#it's exactly the kind of psychological horror I'm into

[thelittlecoughsomewhere]

Have you ever come across a piece of media that you feel was tailor made with specifically you in mind?

That's how I feel about Scherzo (Doctor Who)

[whosashan]

Hi~ Love and DeepSpace girly here

Could you do hc's for the boys where MC is like. Later for dinner or something but before the bois can go and see what's up, MC sends them a text that's like

"Yea I'm gonna be late for dinner. Not sure how late, but I'll be there. I've been trynna find a way out of my room for like 20 minutes, but there's this very big bug between me and the door, and every time I move, it moves. When it flies its wings make this whirring noise akin to some vassal horror. We're locked at a stalemate, I'm at every disadvantage, and I wholeheartedly believe the bug is aware of this."

(I don't hate bugs or anything but this sounds so funny in my head)

BUGGED AND BELATED

PAIRING: Love and Deepspace men x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: You're trapped in your room, locked in a silent battle with a bug that’s far too aware of your fear. Every move you make, it counters. Every escape plan, foiled. Dinner will have to wait—this thing might actually win.

A/N: Thank you for the request. Hope you enjoy!

You were supposed to leave twenty minutes ago. Twenty. For a date. With a man you had just started seeing—a man you actually liked, which was rare enough to be considered a cosmic event. You wanted to make a good impression. Show up on time, looking effortlessly stunning, exuding charm and mystery. Just like the diva you were.

Instead, you were crouched behind a chair like a soldier in enemy territory, locked in a silent battle with a creature that had no business being this menacing.

The bug sat there, unmoving, yet radiating pure malice. To be honest, you couldn’t even tell what species it belonged to—somewhere between a beetle and a winged nightmare—but what you did know was that this thing was an opponent of the highest caliber. Every time you so much as shifted toward the door, it twitched, its wings lifting just enough to emit that sinister, high-pitched whirrrr.

And like a rational, fearless adult, you responded by screeching and diving right back into hiding.

This was a hostage situation. A Mexican standoff where only one of you had the advantage—and it sure as hell wasn’t you. The bug had taken control of the room, standing guard like a tiny, exoskeletal bouncer blocking your exit. If it had arms, you were certain they’d be crossed. Maybe even holding a clipboard with your name on the Do Not Pass list.

To be fair, you weren’t afraid of it, not exactly. It’s not like you thought it would launch an aerial assault and drag you into the vents. No, this was something worse. This was the principle of the matter. You were bigger. You were (presumably) smarter. You had evolved beyond your primal ancestors who once feared such creatures. And yet, here you were—hiding. Defeated. Outplayed by something a fraction of your size with the IQ of a rock.

It was a battle of wits, and the bug was winning.

You were moments away from accepting your fate, contemplating whether it was time to draft a farewell message to society—“Tell my date I died bravely in combat”—when your phone rang.

Loud. Sharp. Invasive.

The bug moved.

And so did you—by nearly launching yourself out of your own skin.

Xavier

You glanced at your phone, still flicking your eyes toward the bug every few seconds, refusing to trust the little menace. It had already robbed you of your dignity—you weren’t about to let it rob you of your life, too.

The screen lit up with a message from Xavier.

"You could've just told me if you didn’t want to meet today. I could be asleep right now instead of waiting 20 minutes for my date, who didn’t show up 😔👎"

You groaned, slapping a hand to your forehead. Great. Just great. His text was clearly teasing, but the guilt still hit like a truck. Xavier was sweet, kind, patient—all things you did not deserve while currently cowering behind a chair, engaged in psychological warfare with a bug.

You shot a death glare at your opponent.

The bug, as if personally insulted, spread its wings again with a menacing whirrr, as if to say "Do something about it, coward."

You squeaked and pressed yourself further into hiding. The sheer audacity of this thing.

Frustration bubbled in your chest, so overwhelming it almost made you want to cry. This was it. The bug had won. You were defeated.

Desperate, you called Xavier. He picked up on the second ring.

"Bug!" you shrieked—because apparently, that was the only thing your panic-ridden brain could muster.

Unfortunately, your enemy took offense to your attempt at reinforcements.

With an unholy BZZZZZZT, it lunged.

You screamed and made a break for it, sprinting toward the bathroom like your life depended on it—which, at this point, it probably did. You barely managed to lock the door before stuffing a towel under the gap to ensure the beast wouldn’t crawl its way in.

From the other end of the phone, Xavier’s voice came through, laced with concern. "Y/N?"

"Xavier! There’s a murderous bug in my apartment! It wants me dead! Oh my god—I'm too young to die!" you wailed, slapping your thigh in frustration.

Which, in hindsight, was a mistake.

"Ow."

You winced, rubbing the sore spot like an idiot.

There was a pause on the line before Xavier simply said, "I'll be there in a second."

You barely had time to process that before the call ended.

Outside, you could still hear the bug, hovering around like a tiny, winged executioner.

"Stupid bug," you muttered under your breath, arms crossed, sulking in your self-imposed exile.

A minute passed. Then—a knock on the bathroom door.

"Y/N?"

You practically leapt up, flinging the door open. Your eyes darted around the room, scanning for any signs of your sworn enemy before finally landing on Xavier.

“…Did you get rid of it?” you asked, breathless.

He simply nodded, expression unreadable.

For a moment, you could only stare at him—your knight in shining armor. And then, overcome with relief, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck like a lifeline.

"My savior!!" you cried, rocking the both of you side to side, your gratitude radiating off you in waves. For extra effect, you even pressed a dramatic kiss to his cheek before pulling back, hands settling on his shoulders.

Xavier was visibly flustered, the tips of his ears burning red. But there was also something else in his expression—a quiet, barely-contained laugh.

And then he did laugh. A soft chuckle, amused and way too smug for your liking.

He reached out, smoothing down your slightly disheveled hair. "You're adorable when you're terrified."

"Don't you dare laugh at me," you pouted, though the small smile on your lips betrayed you. "You don’t understand how bloodthirsty that thing was."

"Mm, sure," he mused, eyes gleaming. "But now that I’ve saved your life, and considering you did ditch me tonight…" He tilted his head, a mischievous smirk playing at his lips. "You’ll need to make it up to me."

You narrowed your eyes. "I’m going to kick you."

"Okay, okay—" He held his hands up in surrender, still grinning.

…You did end up baking his favorite cookies as a thank-you, though.

Zayne

You snatched up your phone with the urgency of someone fleeing an inferno.

“Is something the matter? We were supposed to meet 20 minutes ago,” Zayne’s voice was impossibly calm, though you could hear a hint of something softer underneath—a trace of disappointment, perhaps, that you weren’t there.

“Help!!! Me!!!” you wailed into the phone, your eyes fixed on the fiend in front of you. It was perched in the doorway like a guardian of doom. A creature so vile, it made your pulse quicken with panic.

You swore it was mocking you.

“Where are you? I’ll be there in five minutes,” Zayne responded, his tone laced with concern that might’ve been heartwarming if you weren’t currently engaged in a life-or-death standoff with an insect that seemed capable of understanding the emotional depths of human suffering.

“In my apartment... There’s a bug. It’s holding me hostage, Zayne, I’m not kidding. I can’t get out,” you explained, backing away slowly as the bug twitched. The sheer audacity of this tiny creature to hold you prisoner in your own home had you flabbergasted.

You could almost hear Zayne’s sigh through the phone, a mixture of concern and, dare you say it, disbelief. You could practically picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, probably contemplating the universe's cruel sense of humor. Was this how living a life by your side would look like?

“…I’ll be there in five minutes.”

You tried to wait. You really did. You took a deep breath, lifted a pillow, and threw it at the bug. It fluttered back, as if taunting you, and your confidence plummeted faster than the falling stock market. Next came the slipper, but that only made it angrier. You briefly entertained the idea of throwing the chair at it—seriously, what was the worst that could happen? But common sense prevailed.

Still, the bug didn’t relent. In fact, it seemed to be toying with you, edging closer with each passing second, its wings fluttering like the harbinger of doom.

And then, like a knight in shining armor—if that knight was slightly irritated and impossibly poised—Zayne entered.

He didn’t knock. He didn’t need to. He knew you’d open the door for him.

The scene he walked into was something straight out of a tragedy, but it lacked the nobility and grandeur. You were cornered like a mouse by a cat. The bug sat there, wings spread in a challenge. You, in your finest cornered-animal panic, clutched the edge of the couch as if it could save you.

Zayne surveyed the situation, his brows knitting in disbelief. The word “seriously” almost visibly hovered over his head. He muttered something to himself under his breath—something along the lines of “A grown adult, reduced to this…” and grabbed the slipper you had unsuccessfully used in your battle. With one deft movement, he swatted the bug dead.

It was over. The monster was slain. You were free.

He turned to you, expression still a mixture of confusion and disbelief.

“Are you… Are you quite finished?” Zayne asked, his voice a low, cultured lilt, tinged with something that could almost be construed as amusement. His gaze flicked to the corner where you’d been backed into, and then back to you, who was now clinging to his arm like your life depended on it.

"Oh, thank God you're here," you sighed, utterly dramatic, “I thought I was going to perish in this apartment, alone and forgotten, just me and the bug in an eternal standoff!” You fluttered your eyelashes at him with all the flair you could muster, trying to inject some levity into the situation, though your chest still heaved in relief.

He blinked, visibly softening, but his voice remained stern, a tad patronizing as he gave your cheek a light pinch.

“You and your antics. Unbelievable,” he sighed, shaking his head. “What on earth possessed you to try and fight the insect with a pillow?”

“It wasn’t my fault!” you huffed, pouting as you gripped his arm tighter. “That thing had too much intelligence—I’m telling you, it was strategic.” You let out a dramatic sigh, as though recounting the tale of a great hero's struggle. “But, I’ll make it up to you. You’re my hero, after all.”

A sudden mischievous gleam flickered in your eyes. “How about I treat you to a massage for those tired, heroic muscles of yours?” you said, raising an eyebrow playfully, leaning in just enough to make your intentions clear.

Zayne raised an eyebrow in return, his lips twitching into a small but unmistakable smile. “A massage, hm? How very… unconventional of you,” he said, the hint of a smirk playing at his lips. “And here I was, expecting a thank you cake or perhaps a trophy for my valiant deeds.”

“I’ll bake you cookies later,” you said with a wink, already turning toward the kitchen. “But right now, I’m focused on making sure you aren’t walking around with tense shoulders from saving me from certain doom.”

Zayne’s smile softened, his eyes glinting with fondness as he crossed his arms. “Well, I suppose there’s no point in disobeying you now, is there?” He reached up and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead, his voice soft but teasing.

You grinned up at him. “But if that thing ever shows up again…” you glanced at the now-dead bug lying on the floor, “we’re going to need more than just a slipper.”

You smiled to yourself. The bug was defeated, your date was salvaged, and Zayne… well, Zayne was a keeper.

Rafayel

Your phone was practically drowning in notifications from Rafayel. Each ping was more insistent than the last, almost like he thought you were hiding under a rock and couldn't see them.

"Where are you??" "I've been waiting for you for like, an hour now." "The audacity. I'm leaving. Fishes would start walking faster than you would get here." "AND you're not replying." "I'm this 🤏 close to blocking and reporting you."

You groaned, every word a reminder of how you were literally about to die at the hands—or wings—of a bug. You cursed under your breath and, with all the dignity you could muster, typed back: "House. Bug. Come!!!!!" That was all the energy you could spare before the creature—an absolute demon with wings—flapped them in your direction. Your heart skipped a beat. You dove behind the couch, praying it didn't have night-vision, or a complex plot to kill you slowly.

Your phone pinged again.

And again.

And again.

You didn’t dare check it—no, not while the little monster was hovering like it was plotting your demise. It was a battle of wills now, and you weren’t about to let your phone ruin your chance of survival.

You grabbed the nearest weapon: your expensive perfume. Maybe, just maybe, a spritz of it would do the trick. You aimed it like a champion—but the bug? The bug didn’t even flinch. Instead, it got more aggressive, flapping its wings with a smirk, if bugs had expressions. And the worst part? You just wasted your last drop of your favourite, expensive perfume. A tragedy on all fronts.

With no other options left, you waited for salvation. Where was anyone when you needed them? What kind of sick joke was this? How could you be outsmarted by an insect?

And then, the sound of footsteps. Hallelujah.

It was Rafayel.

You couldn’t decide whether you were filled with relief or utter terror. Was he here to rescue you? Or was he about to bail on you and leave you in a dramatic, bug-induced death scene worthy of a low-budget horror flick?

The door swung open with zero drama—Rafayel just barged in. He saw you, crouched behind the couch, practically whispering to yourself like you were in a hostage situation. His eyes immediately locked onto the bug, and for a second, time stopped.

His mouth opened, and you could practically hear the gears in his head turning before he spoke: “You are so in trouble right now, young lady. I—”

But then, the bug made a dramatic entrance. It flapped its wings in a show of pure, unadulterated confidence, like it knew it had just broken Rafayel's spirit. Rafayel froze, his eyes widening in horror, and within seconds, he was out the door, like a man running from a natural disaster.

“Rafayel! Don’t leave me here, you fish!” You whined, your voice pitched high in a way that made you sound like you were either five years old or on the verge of a mental breakdown. You weren’t sure which one it was.

The bug flapped its wings once more, mocking you. It was taunting you. You were being outwitted by something with a brain smaller than a grain of rice.

“I am not coming in there unless you get rid of this disgusting thing!” Rafayel’s voice came from the safety of the hallway, an unmistakable whiny tone in his words. He was refusing to enter, as if you had just asked him to enter a lion’s den while wearing a steak costume.

“You’re a fish! Don’t fishes eat bugs??” You groaned, still peeking out from behind the couch like a small animal in danger of being eaten alive.

“I have never been more insulted in my entire life,” Rafayel shot back, his voice dripping with melodrama. "Never in my—"

Before he could finish his Oscar-worthy speech, the bug made a beeline straight toward him. It was clearly hunting him now, and if you could hear its evil little thoughts, you were sure it was laughing at him. Rafayel yelped in sheer terror, darting behind the door like a child avoiding a splash of water.

“Take it away from me!!” He whimpered, his voice cracking in an almost comical way. If this were a reality show, this would definitely be the most embarrassing moment of the season.

You rubbed your temples in exasperation. This was fine. Everything was fine. Sure, your dignity was shattered. Sure, Rafayel was now questioning your survival instincts. Sure, you were the one who brought a broom to a battle that required grit and determination. But you were ready. It was time to defeat the beast. You needed to. After all, you couldn't get slain by the monster. you still had the whole Lemuria to repopulate.

“If I die right now,” you muttered to yourself, glaring at the bug like it was the villain in the movie of your life, “just know… I think your cooking’s actually terrible. And I once purposefully placed a brush next to your bed so you would slip on it. And—”

You were cut off by the sound of the bug’s wings buzzing, louder and more threatening than ever.

You grabbed your broom with the determination of a warrior and—without hesitation—charged. You swung it like a sword, taking out all your frustrations in one glorious, wild swipe. The bug was in mid-flight, doing its best to dodge your clumsy strikes, but eventually, victory was yours.

The demon bug, defeated, fluttered weakly out the window, and you stood, panting, broom still held high, like you’d just slain a dragon.

And then—silence.

You turned to Rafayel, still holding the broom like you were the hero of the story, waiting for your applause. But no. Instead, he stood there with his arms crossed, his lips pressed into a disapproving frown.

“You did WHAT?” he asked, the disbelief in his voice thick enough to spread on toast.

And in that moment, you realized—you’d won the battle against the bug. But now, a greater danger awaited you - an angry fish.

Sylus

You barely had time to register the sound of your phone ringing before bam, your door was obliterated like it was made of cardboard.

There stood Sylus, a whirlwind of concern and urgency, his brow furrowed, eyes scanning the room with that signature intensity.

He must’ve assumed you were in immediate danger, and, well... he wasn’t entirely wrong.

You were hiding behind the chair, poking your head out like a startled meerkat, a wave of relief washing over you at the sight of him. Sylus, your towering savior. The person who could fix anything, even the most horrifying of circumstances.

The bug, though? It seemed just as startled as you, its wings twitching nervously as though it could sense Sylus’s unyielding presence in the room. If bugs could feel power, this one was now thoroughly aware of its impending doom.

You almost giggled to yourself. Game over for the bug.

Sylus, meanwhile, stood frozen in the doorway, his gaze shifting between you and the bug with an expression that could only be described as... confusion.

"Kitten, what’s the matter?" His voice had that smooth, no-nonsense tone, but there was a definite edge of concern hidden beneath the sternness.

You pointed dramatically at the bug on the floor, your finger trembling slightly as you did. You could feel your pulse racing, that primal fear creeping back. Sylus’s eyes followed your outstretched arm to the bug, then shifted back to you, his expression unreadable. He took a beat, processing the situation. Then, after what felt like an eternity, he deadpanned:

"You’re not actually serious, are you?"

You couldn’t even muster a comeback. Instead, you whined, ducking further behind the chair as the bug flapped its wings once again, preparing for round two.

"It’s trying to kill me!" You squeaked, clutching the chair as though it were your only line of defense against the monstrous thing that was quite literally the size of your thumb.

Sylus’s gaze lingered on you. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—was it disbelief? Amusement? Maybe a little bit of both. He stood there, dead silent, taking it all in. And then, to your horror, he turned on his heel and walked out of the room.

"Sylus, wait!" You squeaked, your voice rising with panic. The bug was closing in! Would your hero really leave you to face your untimely death at the claws—or wings—of this vile creature?

But just as quickly as he’d left, Sylus returned, striding in like the cavalry had just arrived. In one hand, he held a can of bug spray. No grand entrance, no dramatic speeches, just a weapon of mass destruction for your foe.

Without another word, he unleashed the spray like a warrior wielding a sword of justice, a small but fierce hiss filling the air. The bug’s frantic wing-flapping turned into a lazy, defeated flutter as it crumpled into oblivion.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, cautiously peeking from behind the chair, making sure the battle was truly over. The bug was definitely down for the count. You waited another second, just to be sure, then, with all the grace of a startled deer, you leapt from your hiding place and ran straight into Sylus’s arms.

Without missing a beat, you buried your face in his chest, wrapping your arms around him as though he were your personal superhero—because, in this moment, he definitely was.

"Thank you, my hero!" You chimed, looking up at him, your voice a mixture of gratitude and—okay, maybe a little bit of dramatics. But could you blame yourself? It was a near-death experience.

Sylus’s face didn’t shift much, but his lips curled up at the edges in that trademark sly smirk of his. Oh, here it came.

"My, my... Whatever shall I do with you?" His voice was smooth, filled with an undertone of amusement as his hands slid around your waist, pulling you in closer, his presence overwhelming and comforting all at once.

You couldn’t help but giggle, your heart still racing from the excitement of it all. “Whatever you wish, oh my savior.” You batted your lashes dramatically, trying—and failing—to hold back a grin. "But first, let's get this dinner! All this near-death experience made me starving!"

With that, you grabbed his hand and began tugging him toward the door like a child dragging their parent to their favorite amusement park. Sylus followed, his chuckle rumbling through his chest as he matched your pace.

“As you wish, my lady,” he replied, his voice warm and amused.

“Oh, and by the way, you need to replace my door. You did kinda knock it down.” You gestured at the gaping hole in the doorway, now very much ruined by his heroic entrance.

Sylus raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I can just buy you a new house.”

“No,” you said flatly, shaking your head with conviction. “Not a new house. Just the door. And maybe some new furniture to match the hole you made.”

Caleb

You ignored your phone's ringing for now - afraid to move your gaze away from the bug.

You'd tried everything: pillow throws, shoe swats, even a half-hearted attempt at swatting it with a hairbrush. But every time you tried to inch your way to the door, the thing flapped its wings with an eerie, almost taunting precision. You were fairly certain it was actively laughing at you. The worst part? You couldn’t figure out what it even was—was it a cockroach? A beetle? No, it had the terrifying charisma of a tiny dragon.

At this point, your phone was pinging like crazy, full of messages from Caleb.

"Where you at, babe? :P" "You good? 😬" "Okay, I'm seriously starting to get concerned. Did you get abducted by aliens? XD" "Or worse... did you bail on me??"

You groaned, knowing you had to respond. With one eye on the bug (now doing an actual flyby of your head), you typed out a frantic reply: "Bug. Help. Please. I’m literally being held hostage."

The "send" button clicked just as the beast made a bold move toward you, sending you diving behind the couch. You muttered something obscene under your breath, praying to whatever higher power existed that Caleb would get the message.

You heard the front door creak open, and the sound of footsteps entering your apartment. Caleb’s unmistakable voice rang out immediately.

"You alive in there, or did you get eaten by a mutant insect?" His tone was teasing, light, but you could hear the hint of concern buried underneath it.

The moment you saw his face peeking around the corner, you almost burst into tears, then immediately regretted not thinking of this sooner—why hadn't you just called him earlier? This was a disaster.

"There!" You pointed shakily at the bug, now circling you like a demented helicopter, "It’s... it's trying to kill me, Caleb. Please get rid of it before I lose my mind."

He looked at the bug, then back at you, arching an eyebrow. "So, you're telling me this... thing has been keeping you hostage for 20 minutes? I’d say I’m impressed, but also... I’m honestly a little offended you didn’t call me earlier."

You shot him a pleading look. “I didn’t want to bother you! Plus, I thought I could handle it myself, but clearly—" you gestured at the bug dramatically, "—I was wrong."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright, I’ll take care of it. But you owe me one for this. You owe me big time."

As if on cue, the bug lunged towards him, its wings buzzing aggressively.

"Look at this thing, Caleb! It knows I’m weak!" you shouted, half laughing, half panicking. You watched him as he calmly reached for the nearest object—a broom—before striding toward the creature like a true warrior.

"Relax, pipsqueak. I’ve got this." His voice was smooth, dripping with that signature teasing tone, but there was a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. You knew he wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.

With one swift motion, he shooed the bug out of your apartment, making sure it was well and truly gone before turning to you with a satisfied grin.

You practically threw yourself into his arms, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh my god, Caleb. Thank you. I would’ve died in here if it wasn’t for you.”

He chuckled softly, his lips brushing the top of your head as he held you tight. "You owe me, sweetheart. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. I came here expecting a romantic evening, not to play exterminator." His hand gently ran through your hair, a soft gesture of care that made your heart flutter despite everything.

"I’ll do anything," you said, your voice a little too serious.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Anything? Hm, we might need to revisit that offer later, but for now..." He paused, leaning back to look you over. "I think we can still salvage the evening. After all, we’ve got the whole night ahead of us, right?"

You smirked, playfully brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Yeah, and you’re not getting out of dinner that easily. You still owe me a real date after this."

He laughed, pulling you closer. "Alright, alright. But just so you know, next time, I’m sending you a bug-catching kit as your official starter pack for dating me. You’ve been warned."

You couldn’t help but grin, a weight finally lifting from your shoulders as you found yourself safe in his arms.

"And Caleb," you said, trying to hide a mischievous smile, "You look hot when you move around with a broom."

[l0v-ly-c4t]

Movie Night - Daisuke x fem!reader

Summary: You and Daisuke have a scary movie night, but it turns out he's too scared to sleep alone + after care

Pairing: smut and fluff

T/w: smut, mentions of Anya, protected sex, full consensual sex, loss of virginity, whinny soft dom Daisuke

Wc: 3,3K

A/n: This is an AU where the shitty compan- I mean, Pony Express doesn't exist, so our boy Daisuki is on college living his best life as the lover I know he is.

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━━ ❝ It has been some time since you started crushing on Daisuke. You met him when you first arrived at this school. Being the new student is taught, and he knew it, that's why he made so much effort just so you could have friends and feel welcome. After that you guys became best friends.

Obviously, you always thought he was handsome, and kind, and funny, but something about him kept bringing you closer, leaving you in the situation you're right now: friend zone.

The worst part is that, no matter how much you try to show him that you like him, he's just too danm naive to get a hint! Urgh, this feeling is consuming you from the inside.

Little did you know that he thought of you in the exact same way you did of him. Well, not exactly "exact same way." He had his own little way.

It took him a while to realize his feelings. At first, he just thought of you as his prettiest friend. He would stare at you and be lost in your looks without knowing why. He would always try and be useful for you, being it by carrying something for you or paying you something to eat at the cafeteria. He wanted to be around you all the time, he would get bored and blue without you.

It is actually impressive how he didn't realize his feelings until very recently, when he saw you talking very closely with another boy. How to describe his feelings? It wasn't jealousy, it was more a sense of loss. He finally realized that being friends didn't mean that you would always be by his side. For that, he needed to be more than friends. THAT'S when he realized his feelings.

But then, he panicked. "What does it mean??? Do I... l-like her?" Silly little thoughts like this were frequently on his mind. Oh, if only he knew that you thought of him too...

You and Daisuke were chilling on your sofa, waiting for the other friend of yours, Anya, to show up. You had decided to make a little movie section in your house since you and Daisuke haven't been able to talk much with Anya. She's just really focused on getting her degree.

You were both on your phones. Daisuke is playing some silly mobile game, and you are just scrolling down your tumblr timeline, looking for something fun to pass the time. It was already 8 pm, and Anya hasn't given any news yet.

"Dude, she must be really busy. She didn't even send a message or something!" Daisuke says, his lips almost pouting like a disappointed kid. "Don't worry, she has a lot of work to do, we can hang out another time." You confort him.

"Yeah..." he answers. "Is just that I was so excited, I was like 'Let's watch a movie, yay, bom bom clap!!!' But now I'm just 'yeah, movies'" He emotes.

"What?"

He sights. "Nothing. Do you still want to watch a movie? Just the two of us?" He asks.

"Yes, it'll be fun! Let's watch something scary!" You give the idea. Daisuke instantly smiled at your words, thrilled to watch a super super horror movie with you.

You let him choose a movie, and after a while, deciding which one, you finally settled on a psychological horror movie. You sat by his side on the couch, eventually laying your head on his shoulders.

Daisuke didn't even notice, but he would probably have blushed if he wasn't so absorbed in the screen. If you didn't know him, you would say he was scared.

After about 2 hours later, the movie ended, and Daisuke was just too pale. "Daisuke U good? Are you scared?"

"Me? Scared? Pfff, c'mom y/n!!! I'm the thoughtest guy you know!" He said, playing it off. "U sure? I don't want you coming at my room at midnight"

"Don't worry, you'll get your well-deserved beauty sleep, and I won't bother you," he said. "Whatever you say gorgeous" you played.

You guys watched some other movies, one scarier than the previous one. I mean, scaring for him. You were just cool, but Daisuke was biting his nails and playing with his fingers the whole time. You didn't pay much attention at the beginning, but as time passed, you could literally see his nervousness.

Worried for your friend psychological state, you decide that you should both take a bath and go to sleep, even though Daisuke kept swearing he wasn't dirty enough for a bath and that he could sleep that way just fine.

Both of you cleaned up you decide is time to sleep, the clock already hitting 2am. "S-so, am I going to sleep here? In the couch? A-alone?" He asks.

"Why? Are you scared?" You tease him, resulting in him making an angry face to prove it to you that he wasn't scared. "What? Naah, I'm, like, totally fine." He says. Oh, how he regretted that later that night.

You were almost falling asleep when you heard a light knock on your room door. You got up and checked just to see Daisuke, with the puppiest eyes you had even seen on a man, standing in front of your door eith a pillow under his arm. "Daisuke," you called. "What are you doing?

"You were right, I'm scared. Can we sit and talk just so I can fall asleep?" Daisuke said, silently begging for you to let him in already. You invite him to sit on your bed, and you both stay there for a while, just chilling. You were almost falling asleep again when he started a conversation.

"So.." he said. "Are u seeing someone?"

"Why are you asking this so randomly?"

"I-i don't know, I'm just trying to break the ice ans start a conversation" he eyes you. Even though the only light comes from the moon past your windows, you can notice the little blush forming on his cheeks and top of his ears. You also blush at the sight.

"Sooo, are you seeing someone or not?" He asked again "no I'm not. What about you?" You look back at him. "No"

At that moment, being right there on your bed sitting and talking in the middle of the night. That was so good to Daisuke. He didn't know why, but just to know that you weren't seeing anyone got him full of happiness, his sleepless far gone now.

You eye him, his lips hard pressed together. This feeling is new to him. He doesn't know how to describe it. He just wants to kiss you, hug you, and be close to you. So close that your bodies become one. In a fearless act, he leans closer to you, his eyes asking for permission as your lips grow closer and closer.

When your lips touch is like heaven to him. You were coight off guard, but you followed his actions without thinking twice. The kiss is slow and passionate, and the chemistry is just right. In a slow move, he drags his hands along your arms and place them behind your neck, pulling you even closer. He couldn't believe in his own actions. He was actually kissing you!

While one of his hands is still behind your neck, caressing the hair and pulling you more and more to him, his other hand travels to your tight. He's so scared he moves in slow motion. What if you feel uncomfortable? What if you pull away from him? He's so scared, but he needs to touch you, or he'll drive himself crazy.

Your body grew hotter as you felt the warmth of his hand gently caressing your tight. A low sound scales his lips when you pull the kiss apart, leaving him with a red face and pouty lips. "Is this real?" You asked. Daisuke didn't reply, he was too embarrassed of himself to do so. It all happened so fast he didn't have the time to think straight about his actions.

The kiss was something you wished for a long time, and now that it was actually happening, you needed time to cope. To be honest, you have always imagined you and Daisuke together. You have always wished for him, craving for him silently. You wouldn't let this chance go to waste.

He stares at you with doe eyes, melting your heart. He looks so cute and so sexy at the same time that you actually feel dirty for having this kind of thought about him. Not knowing how to proceed, you both just stare at each other. For a moment, it feels like time has paused. For a moment, everything is about him and you, sitting on your bed with clumsy feelings and red lips.

"H-hey, so.. c-can we do more? Like... I want to kiss you more." Daisuke breaks the silence. You look at him, but it feels like you're looking straight to heaven. All you want to do is kiss him more. Not just that, you want him in a way you never wanted anyone before.

"S-soo... are you going to accept or... it's okay if you don't wanna, really!! A-actually, I don't even know why I'm asking, haha!" He fake laughs. His face became more redish and fluttered. He was about to pull completely away from you when you throw yourself on top of him.

You kiss him again, this time in a more needy and desperate way. You caught him off guard, but it didn't take long for him to respond to your kiss. Very gently you start to move, now sitting on his lap, never breaking the kiss as you do it.

He's overwhelmed. He can't say he never thought of you on his lap, but to actually have you there is a totally different level. He can feel himself getting harder as you get closer to him, pressing your body onto his.

Your hands go around his neck, hugging him while you press yourself on his chest. His arms hug you from your waist, caressing your back and sending you chills. He slowly lowers his hands until he reaches your butt, gently grabring it.

"Ahh, so hot" he says between kisses, making you shiver and readjust yourself on top of his laps. You start to grind on his lap, moving in a painfully slow rhythm. With his hands still on your butt you trail your kisses dawn his jawline.

He's lost in the feeling of your mouth in his neck, and just the thought of you leaving hickeys on him makes him even harder down there. How lucky was him for having a girl like you on top of him? He didn't know. He just knew he was lucky as hell.

"I-i need to tell you something.." Daisuke says. You make a signal for him to continue talking but never leaving his neck, your mouth glued to him like you need him to survive. "I'm- ah, I never... uhm, I-m a v-virgin" he finally says.

You stop the kisses, and he panics for a moment. You move back to look at him, his lips red and glimpse from the earlier kiss. You take your hand and put on his left cheek, caressing a little to bring comfort to him. "I-i'm a virgin too. Hehe" you say.

"So, like, do you want to stop here?"

"No- I mean... we c-could make it work. O-only if you want to, or course!!" You say, now being the shy one. Everything is new to you both, the feelings, the sensations, the craving, the desires: everything.

After a while, just admiring you, Daisuke comes back to kissing, not lasting long and going straight to your neck. Now, it was his turn to leave marks on you. The little noises tha scape your mouth almost making him cum right there.

The make-out is way out of control now, both of you kissing and praising each other as the clothes disappear one by one. At one point, you were only in your bra and panties sitting in front of him.

With his hand, he reaches to your arm, slowly making his way to your back. Your faces so close to each other you could count the moles in his face. "Can I take your bra off?" He asks. You nod, and he proceeds to do so.

He helps you take it out and throws it where the other clothes were thrown previously. He trails kisses down your bodies, starting from your neck and going all the way down to your clavicle. He worships you like you're the last drop of water in a desert, kissing and leaving hickeys everywhere he passes.

When he finally reaches for your boobs he can't help but stare. "Ahh, you're just so pretty~ I want you all for me," he says, looking at you.

In a bold movement, you push him down, forcing him to lay on his back while you crawl on him until you reach his lap again. For a moment, you stop what you are doing. "Wait, what about protection?"

"There in my pants, in the wallet, there is one we can use." he says. You get up quickly and gind the condom exactly where he said it was. "Do you always have this thing with you all the time? Why?" You ask coming back to him. You sit at the same position you were before.

"For moments like this." he answers, making you blush and smile a little. He smiles, too.

You look down at him, the volume in his boxes being extremely visible. "This looks painfull" you say as you help him take his boxes, leaving him full naked under you. "Oh, it is, c-can you help me?" He asks, his voice clearly more desperate than before.

You take of your last piece of clothing and open the condom. Stroking him a little before, you put it on his dick. "A-ah, that's... so tight.." he hisses. "I think you underestimated you size baby"

He blushes. "Hey, don't you think it would be less painfully if I was the one on top?" He asks

"Well, maybe... I'm not actually sure."

"Let's try then." He gets you on his arms and switches the position, now being on top. This view of you makes him feel like on cloud nine. The prettiest girl he'd ever seen all open and needy for him? Danm, he could cum just by the view of you like this.

Not being able to watch any longer, he positions himself and moves forward, his dick filling you inch by inch. The pain makes itself present, but it's not something you can't handle.

"Ah- ahh, you're so tight... shit" Daisuke says as he finally puts everything in. "Oh yes, ahh~ you're so hot, so tight, hmmm.. so fucking good"

He lay his body down, letting his weigh on top of you. You can hear his little moans in your ears as you try to get used to his length. "Danm Dai, I didn't know you were s-so big"

"S-stop it, if you talk like this I might already cum." He smiles. "A-ah, I can't believe I'm finally in you"

"I-i think.. you can move now.." You say, the pain now transformed into pleasure, making you crave for more and more of him.

He starts to push into you, the feeling consuming your senses. The extase is just too much. You actually feel like you could come right there already. "O-oh my god, ahh~"

"D-do you like it? Am I, ahh- am I doing g-good?" He asks. His voice filled with luxury, whispering right at your ear. "Y-yes, yes"

He slowly picks his pace, savoring and discovering your body. He wants to know every place you're sensible at, every move that makes you moan louder, he wants to kiss every corner of your body and make you feel so special that your would come just for him. Gosh, that's his greatest wish.

You were getting overstimulated, your clímax approaching so fast your moans started to go silent. Then, he suddenly stops. You look at him with a sad eye, a moan of protest leaving your mouth as you roll your eyes at the back of your skull.

"W-why'd you stop?"

"C-can we switch positions? Uhm, there's this one position I've always wanted to try.." he asks, his lips pouty like a little kid and his dick twitching inside you like a rock. You were in so much pleasure that you would accept anything this man asked you, so you instantly agreed.

He guides you how he wants, and you end up on all fours, with your chest glued on the bed and your ass up like a cat. He stands behind you, his eyes betraying him as he worships you. "Shit, you're so hot, you know that? Perfect, just perfect, ahh"

He positioned himself again, not sparing time for you to get used to him, going as fast as he can the moment he's inside you. He's crazy. So lost in the souce he can't make a proper sentence, he just yaps nonsense and moans desperately, seeking his hight just as he seeks your pleasure.

Your moans are like music to his ears. The more you moan, the more he knows he's good for you. "Aahhh, I don't think I'll- hmm, last any, uh longer" he moans.

He's now totally on top of you, his chest glues to your back while he leaves kisses, hickeys, and bites at your neck, making your pleasure ten times bigger. He's pushing as fast as he can, trying to make you feel as special as him.

"Ah, I-I'm gonna, ahh!" He screams. His movements become more erratic as he reaches his high. The condom becoming even more tight in his cock, now full of his liquids. You can feel his cock throb inside you, the feeling pushing you over the edge, making you both come at the same time.

The movements stop, and you just stay there trying to catch your breaths. After a while, he comes out of you and removes his condom. He lays down at your bed on his back, right by your side. You lay on your tummy and you look at each other.

"Did I do well? Was I good enough?" He asks.

"You were perfect, Dai" you reply. His eyes light, and he finally relaxes. You go closer and kiss his forehead, then his cheeks, then his nose, then you finally leave a peck at his lips. He looks at you with heart on his eyes. He's confident he's the happiest man in the world.

"So, are you seeing someone?" He asks. "Yes," you reply, "you."

After taking a bath, you both finally lay down to rest from your tiring movie night. He's hugging you from behind, leaving sugary kisses on your neck where the bruises start to appear. "Sorry I marked you, I went a little wild, hehe"

You turn to face him. "It's okay, Dai," you smile. He looks at you and throws a sad smile. You know him too danm well to recognize when something is off with him, and since he's just naturally honest, it's usually not hard to find out what it is that is bothering him.

"What happened?"

"Can I ask you a serious question?"

"Sure, go on," you reply.

"What's your favorite Pokémon?"

"Are you serious??" You ask. The sound of his laugher travellings straight to your heart.

"No, seriously now. Do you... happen to like me? Or something?" He plays with his fingers while looking down, just occasionally looking up to see your reaction. You don't even need to think before you answer him. "Yes, I do." You say.

When he was about to say something, you heard a ringtone, someone was calling you.

"It's Anya!"

"God, FINALLY!"

You accept the call. "Girl, you could have sent a message!" You sight. "It's okay, we understand. What I did all night? Ah, you know, casual things... cupcakes." Daisuke smiles by your side. "Okay, rest well, se ya!" You hang the call.

"Is my new nickname 'cupcake'?" He plays.

"Shut up."

F/n: Sorry if it looked like I was babying him, I just had this thought of him being a really sweet young guy. Also, sorry if it looked rushed, I am DEFINATLY NOT a professional, both in writing and in English. (Please tell me if I made a spelling mistake)

[lovelymindescape]

Crazy Thanos x reader idea here! (fem reader if that’s alright <3)

I’ve seen the Ghost!Thanos AU everywhere and I was wondering if you’d be able to do an x reader around that? Maybe the reader sees him before the guards take him away and the she goes to Namgyu to take some of the drugs he stole. After that, she keeps “hallucinating” Thanos and having conversations with him and such. Except it’s not just a hallucination, he’s actually haunting her because he left too much unsaid before he died

Haunting Shadows (Ghost!Thanos x Fem!Reader Fic)

pairing — ghost!Thanos(choi su-bong) x fem!reader

Summary - Years of Friendship and secret mutual feelings for eachother are ruined, when he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and started a fight , which ended deadly. And now you're living with the consequences.

warnings - Nam-gyu being a various drug dealer (in this he has more than just the ones in the cross), a little ooc Thanos (he for once was quiet and unspoken but sadly about his feelings). Violence and Death , so typical squid game. Major Character Death. Paranormal Themes. Psychological Horror. Drug Use. Mental Distress. Cold/Unsettling Imagery. Emotional Angst. Maybe a little Fluff

author’s note — I made it just one significant moment , where he haunts her. But I think you can tell that the memories are haunting her mind before , thats why she takes the drugs, then the haunting becomes more prominent , ignore typos, English is not my first language

The dorms were suffocating.

The air was thick with sweat and the lingering stench of unwashed bodies. The makeshift beds crammed together, the restless turning of players who couldn’t sleep—it was all too much. But it wasn’t the heat, the exhaustion, or the looming fear of the next game that had you on edge. It was the silence.

The silence where his voice should have been.

Thanos was gone.

You hadn’t seen the guards take him away. Not completely. But you’d caught the aftermath—the bloodstains on the floor, the way the other players whispered his name like a ghost story.

You’d stood frozen, your hands curled into fists at your sides, your mind refusing to comprehend what had just happened. He was dead. And you didn’t even know his last words. The thought was unbearable. That was why you found yourself sneaking through the dimly lit hallways, slipping past sleeping bodies and keeping to the shadows. You weren’t sure what you were looking for.

Solace? Distraction? No.

You knew exactly what you needed. Your feet carried you to the bathroom, the only place in this hellhole where the guards didn’t watch as closely. The flickering fluorescent light buzzed overhead, casting eerie shadows across the cracked tiles. And there, leaning against the sink with a smirk that could cut glass, was Namgyu.

You had known where to find him. He always lingered in the bathroom late at night, giving out stuff to players who needed something. And tonight, you were one of them. "Well, well," he drawled, eyes scanning you up and down. "Didn’t think you were the type to come looking for me."

You crossed your arms, keeping your expression unreadable.

"I need something". Namgyu tilted his head, his grin widening. "Don’t we all?" You clenched your jaw. "I'm serious."

"I can see that."

He pushed off the sink and took a step closer.

"What are you looking for, sweetheart? Something to take the edge off? Something to make you forget?"

Your stomach twisted.

Forgetting sounded dangerous. Forgetting sounded wrong. But remembering was worse.

"Something strong," you murmured.

Namgyu raised an eyebrow. "Strong enough to knock you out, or strong enough to make you see God?" You hesitated. You didn’t want sleep. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant reliving the moment Thanos was taken from you.

"I don’t want to sleep," you admitted.

Namgyu studied you for a moment before chuckling under his breath. "Ah. You want the fun kind, then."He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small packet, holding it up between two fingers.

"This should do the trick."

Namgyu’s grin widened.

"Pleasure doing business with you."

He pressed the packet into your palm, his fingers brushing against yours.

"Enjoy the ride, sweetheart."

You didn’t say thank you. You just turned on your heel and walked out of the bathroom, clutching the small packet like a lifeline. You didn’t care about the risks.

You just needed to stop feeling.

The pills hit fast.

You sat on the edge of your bed, your head spinning, the world around you warping at the edges. The dorm was a blur of muted sounds and shifting shadows.

You welcomed the detachment, the feeling of floating just above reality. But then—Then, something changed. The air turned cold. Not the usual damp chill of the dorms, but something deeper. Something unnatural.

And then—A whisper.

"Did you think I would leave you so easily?"

Your breath caught in your throat.

That voice.

Low.

Familiar.

Impossible.

You turned your head, expecting to see nothing but shadows. But then—A flicker. A figure standing at the edge of your vision.

Thanos.

Your heart stopped.

He stood in the darkness, his form flickering like candlelight, shifting between presence and absence. His eyes—piercing, burning—locked onto yours. He looked exactly the same. The same intimidating stance, the same quiet intensity. And yet, there was something different. A weight to him, something heavier than death itself.

"You're not real," you whispered, your voice trembling. Thanos tilted his head. "Is that what you think?" Your breath came in shallow gasps.

"This is just the drugs."

"Is it?"

He stepped closer, the air growing colder with every inch between you shrinking.

"You've been running from this," he murmured. "From me."

Your hands gripped the thin blanket beneath you. "You’re dead."

"And yet, here I am." He was close now.

Too close.

You could see the faint shimmer of his form, the way the dim light of the dorm flickered through him. He wasn’t solid. He wasn’t whole. But he was here.

"Why?" The question barely left your lips.

Thanos studied you for a long moment before speaking.

"I left too much unsaid."

Your chest tightened.

"You don't have to do this," you whispered. "You don’t have to haunt me."

A ghost of a smirk flickered across his lips.

"I’m not the one keeping me here."

You inhaled sharply.

"You are."

"I’m not the one keeping me here. You are."

Your chest ached.

You wanted to argue, to deny it, to tell him he was wrong. But the truth was bitter and undeniable—you had been holding onto him. Clutching at the memories, the lingering warmth of his presence, the things you never got to say.

And now, even in death, he was still here.

"That’s not fair,"

you whispered, your voice barely audible over the hum of restless bodies in the dorm. Thanos didn’t look away.

"Neither is dying before you can say what matters."

Your fingers curled into the thin blanket beneath you.

"Then say it."

Something flickered in his expression, something softer, almost hesitant.His gaze burned into yours, and for the first time, there was no barrier between you—no games, no danger, no pretense. Just the truth you had both been too afraid to face.

"You mattered to me,"

he said, his voice quieter now, rougher.

"More than I ever let on."

Your breath caught in your throat. He had always been guarded, always careful with his words. You had spent so long wondering, second-guessing, overanalyzing every moment between you.

But now, there was no room for doubt.

"You mattered to me too," you admitted,

the words tumbling out before you could stop them. Thanos exhaled, something unreadable flashing across his face.

"I know."

You swallowed hard.

"Then why didn’t you say anything before?"

A bitter smile ghosted his lips.

"Because I thought we had time."

Your vision blurred.

But you didn’t.

You never did.

And now, it was too late.

Except… maybe it wasn’t. Slowly, cautiously, you reached out, your fingers trembling as they passed through the space where his hand should have been. A cold shiver ran through you, but you didn’t pull away.

Thanos stared at your hand, then back at you.

"You don’t need to hold on anymore," he said gently.

Your throat tightened.

"But if I let go, you’ll—""I’ll be free."

The words were heavy, final. But there was no sadness in them.

No regret.

Just peace.

Your breath trembled as you looked at him, memorizing every detail, every piece of him that you had been so afraid to lose.But he was already gone. Not in body—not yet—but in the way he stood, the way his form flickered at the edges, lighter than before.

"You were never alone," Thanos murmured.

"Not then. Not now."

Your chest ached.

You nodded, even though it hurt.

"I know."

His lips parted slightly, as if he wanted to say more. But then—The flicker grew stronger. His form shimmered, breaking apart like smoke in the wind. The warmth in his gaze lingered, even as his outline faded, even as the cold dissipated.

And then—Silence.

Final this time.

You exhaled shakily, your head falling forward, your hands curling into the blanket.

He was gone.

And yet—You weren’t empty.

The weight had lifted.

The ache remained, but it was different now.

Less suffocating.

Because for the first time since he left, you knew.

You knew he had cared.

You knew he had loved you, in his unspoken way.

And that was enough.

That was peace.

For him.

And maybe even for you.

The End.

Divider: @cyberangel-graphics

[glitch-but-ya]

Just finished reading your Caleb one shot, silken chains and I just wanna rant a bit bc of how good it is (pls feel free to ignore me if u don't feel comfy to answer. Trumblr being annoying bc I can't message or even reply to a post anymore sobs)

Man at first I was doubting my eyes cause 31k one shot in Tumblr isn't quite something you'd find easily. Saw the yandere warning but think to myself, "I mean what's the worse it can be?"

AND I AM?? GRIPPING ON MY CHAIR. I literally have no words– just speechless over the way you have written him, written the mc.

Coming from a psychology student myself, I just enjoyed sooo much how you explain the way mc brain works. How it feels we're one step further trying to cover this mystery while Caleb isn't even there, like of course he isn't?? It's still a part of his plan somehow, and I just??

10/10 gonna follow you and probably reread it just for trying to dissect every words there cause legit think mc can outsmart him but nah ahaha.

ANYWY THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS FOOD WHOOO, haven't find much really dark psychological story about his brain (I wanna open his head and study it I swear to God). So I'm just 🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️🙇‍♀️

- 🐰

THANK YOU ANON!! I appreciate it sm😭

I really enjoy asks like these so don’t worry!!

(Brace yourself for a long yap session)

I’m so glad a psychology student enjoyed my work. Honestly, while writing this, I was so afraid that a psychology student may read this and wheeze at how inaccurate everything is😭 I did some research to ensure I get things right (for the most part) because I was afraid I’d end up writing something corny instead of an actual ‘psychological thriller/horror’. I’m very interested in psychology myself. I have been ever since I was a teen. I love writing psychological thrillers as much as I enjoy penning philosophical stories (two very differing topics to be interested in, I know, but to me, they’re very similar). And that’s technically what prompted me to write this fic!! :3

I feel like tumblr has a lack of good, long Caleb fics and just long fics in general, so I wanted to be (or at least, I attempted to be) the one to write it!! I also think tumblr has a lack of genuine psychological thrillers which aren’t just romanticism of yandere/dark romance tropes (nothing wrong with enjoying those types of content, it’s just that the romanticism often throws away the fear of it all— the dread of being wanted obsessively by a mentally unstable individual, and instead focus on romance. It’s just a personal criticism of mine which may not align with others).

Writing Reader was incredibly tough. There were so many unwanted variables at play that just curating her personality was an arduous task that made me want to delete the whole fic and rewrite it (I didn’t, thank God). Your usual criminologist would be completely objective and unfazed and to a certain extent, reader is exactly that, but she’s also soft at heart and she is especially emotional regarding this case with Caleb due to her suppressed feelings for him and the importance he has in her life. That conflicts greatly with her professional side and was just, in general, really tough to write.

(I sent like a 20 minute yap to my friend just crying over this problem😭)

But I’m glad I managed to write her in a way that pleases you all! And yeah, in general, I’m really grateful people like my fic enough to leave asks, replies, and comments on reblogs! I’ve been having a horrible time the past few days, and one of the only things keeping me afloat are these kind comments💕

Thank you, 🐰 anon!

(SORRY FOR YAPPING)

[stalkyarsen-ebook]

dang already? i guess i'll have to brainstorm then

first and foremost, i must say that i didn't read FSYY. i plan to read it someday but i know some bits about the story and the general idea for nezha's background. I still don't get some details too because i don't have the cultural understanding either (i have a european vision in case you wanna know.) that being said...

I think it is not a surprise for anyone who knows me that I'm really interested in psychological horror. And I want to lean in that direction. And so, if I were to adapt Nezha's story, I would want to talk about cultural and philosophical clash between each characters, and most importantly how everyone sees Nezha.

Because you mean to tell me a child with herculian forces, that can bend the elements to his will, that kills extremely powerful creatures isn't a scary thing, and no one is even terrified by this monster of a child ??? Li Jing is terrified as fuck for sure but you know what I mean.

I want Nezha's mentor Taiyi that decides to take him as his pupil because he wants him under his control, I want Li Jing to have a paternal crisis because his third son is someone he can't understand unlike his other children. I want Yin Shi to be horrified at every atrocities her son made and still love him which terrifies her even more. I even want Nezha questions his own actions.

You may think that I want it to be an edgy story with blood and gore. But I assure you, these kind of things happens in real life with real children. I know that because I work with children. I know how they are and they can be super scary sometimes. And that's normal, they are in a phase where they learn morality and social norms, we can't despise them for being clueless.

Nezha is exactly that case times 10. He is a kid that learns about the world with the adults around him. But the adults in question are scared of what he is capable of. And he doesn't understand because of their apprehensions.

One thing I also want to talk about, the elephant in the room, is also his relationships with Ao Bing (and possibly more.)

Ao Bing should be the exact opposite of Nezha, a well educated child and an honourable dragon. Big emphasis on the dragon part, he lacks human social norms and morality. He is still a good person but why ask a dragon to treat a human as an equal? Humans are pets to them.

With this way of thinking, Ao Bing is able to connect with a misunderstood Nezha while still disagree with him, and vice-versa. And like the children they are, they can play and fight each other. Speaking of it...

Ao Bing's death is relatively the same as in the original story, Nezha made chaos while playing causing the destruction of the dragon palace. Ao Bing is seriously mad at him this time and they both fight. What differs here is the fact that Nezha doesn't control his emotions and force, he always fights with Ao Bing so it doesn't change from what he is used to. He is still in the playing games mindset and his impulses and emotions overwhelms him. So when he rips Ao Bing's spine, it is both intentional and accidental. Once he calms down and realizes what he's done, he panics and doesn't know what to do.

I mentioned Taiyi trying to control Nezha. It exactly what it sounds like. Not that he is power hungry but he does have a certain ego. Controlling a calamity like Nezha would be extremely gratifying. It sure is difficult but Taiyi would think it's all worth it. He would even manipulate him if he deems he needs to.

I think so far I've covered what I wanted to do with the original story.

I also would like to explore their story once Nezha grew up after FSYY events. How he feels about himself about what he has done in his childhood and how war affected him.

I'm also thinking about an Adult Ao Bing, I know that Jiang Ziya gives him a divine title of a constellation, and so I guess that he became a constellation just like some greek heroes ? (according to wikipedia, he is assigned the constellation Cassiopea? Or maybe a star of this specific constellation.)

Can someone more specialized than me clear that up? I' not sure of myself.

Back to the topic, if I were to bring back Ao Bing as a star deity, I would still him being paralyzed and hating Nezha for what he had done to him.

(i sometime want Nezha to feel so guilty for what he has done that he decided to stay by Ao Bing's side to take care of him and support his constant burst of anger against him. It can have angst, fluff and even fucked up things. it's just perfect.)

but yeah that's all i have right now. if i have more ideas, i'll share them. if you have any questions or suggestions, i'm all ears.

[leggerefiore]

A while ago I saw this trend (?) where someone would follow their partner around for a while without saying anything. Like whenever their partner would ask what they were doing they'd just stare at them like 🧍‍♀️ it was verry funny LMAO. How would fucked up hair trio (Volo, Lear and Grims) react to their S/O doing that?

(Also I feel you whenever I see you post about ur job. I have never felt less confident in myself than when I have to work in retail 💀)

(retail is a form of psychological torture.)

cw: mentions of knives in Volo's part, mostly worrying about being followed

characters: Grimsley, Lear, Volo

♠️Grimsley❤️

♤ The gambler was always so aware of his surroundings. He had to be, naturally. His position as an heir to a wealthy family had set him up to be used to cruelty and possible threats even as a small child. He was simply aware of his safety. Then, in becoming a gambler, he further honed that skill. Not to mention, his poor Liepard seemed just on edge. Someone was following him. Why? Well, he could assume a few reasons. He was not the most beloved person and maybe owed a few too many people money. He flipped a coin as he kept himself in mostly populated streets. Though, when, he finally gained an opportunity to glance at who was stalking after him. He blinked. What…?

♡ “Darling?” He called out as he turned around fully to face you. His mind rushed with possible reasons. Did you think he was cheating and decided to follow after him? He tilted his head and waited for a reply. You gave none, however. Your eyes simply peered into him. It was truthfully a bot unsettling… You were not exactly the type to do things like that. His hand found his Liepard's fur as he pet her. Was this… some kind of game? A challenge, perhaps? For what goal or gain? He rushed with so many possibilities, but nothing came out right. You were simply just following him. It was unsettling, but there was nothing he could do. He wandered back to the apartment you both shared.

◇ Stopping in front of the door, he glanced at you on the other end of the hallway. You simply stood there. He had enough. Grimsley walked towards you with a brisk pace and found himself staring deeply into your eyes with his piercing own. The icy blue could send a shiver down most people's spines. He watched as you finally gave a reaction, shrinking back a bit. A chuckle left him. “Oh, man, is my cute stalker scared?” he shook his head and caught your chin with his hand, “How about a role reversal? I'm pretty good with going undetected.” Suddenly, you broke down and explained it was a prank. He tilted his head. While he did not really get it, to each their own, he supposed. He did want to repay the favour, though.

👑Lear💎

🪙 The prince was a busy man. He had places to be and duties to tend to. This tended to give him a certain aloofness that others tended to notice. Though, he was still trained from a young age to be aware of his surroundings. He was entirely competent about what was happening around him. Which is why he noticed a certain oddity as he engaged in his various duties. Someone had been following him. No, not either of his retainers, who were at his side. He felt unsettled. Horror stories of attacks on various figureheads played on his mind, but he refused to show any weakness. He was going to be king. These little things could not bother him. Yet, at the same time, he simply had to look. His gaze fell back to see who dared followed him. A deadpan then fell across his face.

🪙 “I order you to stop trailing behind me at a distance of about three metres!” he ordered, “If you wish to travel with me, your place is at my side!” Sawyer and Rachel turned around to see you just standing there. You stared at them without saying a word. Lear honestly felt a bit discomforted by your actions. What in the world were you doing? Knowing it was only you following him had relieved a lot of his concerns but left him confused. You were more than welcome to join him in his tasks…? He rather enjoyed having you at his side. Yet, you did not move unless he did. It was oddly frustrating. Sawyer scratched his head at the situation while Rachel clearly was fighting back a laugh.

🪙 This continued on until he grew far too frustrated with the situation. Why on earth were you doing this!? He could not comprehend why you would wish to follow him rather than come to your rightful place at his side. It felt as if you were subtly rejecting him! He crossed his arms and gave up on whatever needed his attention. It was not urgent enough. Stomping toward you, he grasped your wrist. This seemed to snap you out of whatever had overcome you. He pulled you along to where his retainers waited for him. “You belong here,” he grumbled, “Whyever would you follow me…?” Lear shifted to grasping your hand. He simply refused to comprehend and was only mildly annoyed by the situation.

📜Volo💫

⭐️ The merchant had a terrifying awareness of the world around him. Nothing slipped by him, and it was truly both a curse and a blessing for him. He was always cursed with an innate curiosity that seemed to torture him. Though, it also benefitted him. He was fully aware that someone was following after him. His movements were deliberately made to see if it was mere coincidence or purposeful. He determined the latter and grew more worried. Was someone aware of his intentions? Did they plan to attack him? He certainly was not going to allow that to occur. A knife he kept on his person for protection had his hand resting on it. He turned around to catch the pursuer unawares. Yet, as he went to pull out the knife, he froze dead in his tracks.

⭐️ “… What in the world are you doing?” he retracted his hands and crossed his arms. You stood just a few metres behind him, watching him ominously. This would have made him nervous had he not already been aware that you were not possibly with knowledge of his plans. He waited for you to reply, but nothing ever came from you. This immensely frustrated him. He could have attacked you — Many times, the merchant had to deal with bandits attempting to steal his goods and possibly his life. The blond shook his head when you only stared at him wordlessly. This was not something that he could dare to stand for.

⭐️ With eerie speed, he approached you and caught your wrist in his hand. A single grey eye stared through your very being. Whatever resolve you had to keep pranking, the merchant faded, and you shook your head, trying to explain just what was happening. Your words calmed the panicked thoughts in Volo's mind. He had been utterly terrified you had somehow uncovered something. “… I see, I see,” he tried to pretend he was not a hypocrite who had not followed you around himself, “Well, I must say… I had thought it was a bandit. Please be more careful.” He brought a hand to cup your cheek while stroking it with his thumb. When he parted, you felt oddly on edge. The blond simply kept walking as he had before.

[kiyomitakada]

at this point, i think people should just send in prompts for the ask game about the entire cast. can i put in a request for aizawa, if no one else has asked?

hgklhklshf god if people did that we'd be here all month, which i actually have no objection to, this is the most fun thing i have scheduled

favorite thing about them: he's so… normal? he's a regular guy. he has a life outside the investigation, he has a wife and kids. he never has any kind of parasocial instinct and it shows especially in the successor arc, when the task force is basically surrounded by false gods and he takes the time to balance the pros and cons for each of them. he doesn't trust near or light or L (the original, because now that has to be said); he trusts his own judgment and that's all. he's just really grounded! it's very admirable

least favorite thing about them: he is SO mean to matsuda sometimes… i don't really think he's trying to be mean, he's just taking his frustration out on the easiest target, but man. no wonder matsuda sticks to light. the epitome of their relationship to me is the bit right after the explosion that's like,

aizawa: (worried) matsuda! are you okay?!

matsuda: aurghahghrhghghh… ow……… no……………

aizawa: good you seem fine

favorite line: (shaking) "so we'll be able to go to the park… and the zoo… …even the amusement park…"

brOTP: him and ide are so cute together. i love that bit where ide is like i didn't join the task force for either of the Ls, i never trusted L anyway. i'm here for You. and aizawa is like Oh Ide…… i think i screenshot that during my first read with the simple caption #yaoi but im kind of attached to the idea that they're best friends instead now

OTP: also aizawa and ide, on the days when i think they are yaoi rather than best friends, but i will provide other ships. im kind of fond of L/aizawa but this is my only serious take on it so far. otherwise in my head it's just L dramatically and unrequitedly pining after this married man who is convinced L hates him and wants him to die, and even after he realizes otherwise aizawa is just incredibly awkward about it and is like L i think i am too old for you

nOTP: none…? yeah none sorry i don't think about aizawa enough for this

random headcanon: is allergic to dogs. wishes he could own one. is incredibly jealous of how good matsuda is with dogs to the point where he claims he doesn't like them

unpopular opinion: not exactly an opinion about him but i don't hc his wife as abusive, just kind of not-in-love with him. more power to everyone who does though! iiii was going to give reasons but got depressed halfway through, here's a better unpopular opinion: i think he's probably one of the most morally upright characters in death note and at the very least would not have shot his daughter in the face. #GoodCopsQuit (he should have stayed quit…)

song i associate with them: to answer this question i looked up "reasonable songs for reasonable people" in youtube and then immediately realized that was a terrible idea. uhhh. ACTUALLY

Who am I? Who am I against him? Who am I? Why would he let me win? Why would he let her go? Who am I to think that he wouldn't deceive me just to make me leave alone?

to quote @applestorms: successor arc is shuichi aizawa's personal psychological horror

favorite picture of them:

i LOVE how angry he looks here

[milkamel]

Mel you threw me down this hole you get to give me the things i request….. now i request some fanfics you personally think were the best damn things you have ever read of shadowvanilla….

Please and thank you 🥹

-lore anon

Hehehe come on I didn't throw you I just.. gently nudged you forward it's not my faulttt!! Anyway the ficsss.. hm. A good question. I'm very picky when it comes to fanfiction, especially the way characters are depicted. I can't read too OOC stuff unless it's a crackfic then it can get a pass. My personal nitpick 💔

BEFORE I START IF SOMEONE HAS SOME GOOD SHADOWVANILLA FIC RECS I DIDN'T MENTION.. GIVE ME PLEASE,,-

I think the classic of shadowvanilla genre is "Jambound". The most popular one but a very high quality, loved reading it. Characters feel accurate to canon and just- that's exactly how I imagine a good sdvn redemption AU. Jamma aka the writer of Jambound also wrote another fic recently called "Dollfaced" and it's more on the psychological horror side, but I recommend this one too!!

Oh and one of the first sdvn fics I read was "The Light Continues" series it's been written before episodes 7-8 but from what I remember they were enjoyable. I feel like I should mention it even if I read it quite some time ago. But it's not sweet but an unhealthy depiction of the ship lol (if anyone knows fics similar to this one please share,, as much as I love fluffy sdvn I want to read some more toxicity and unhinged Smilk hehe)

Another sweet one is "A Guide to Making Friends". It's very cute and silly and made me giggle a lot. PV mistakes a courting book for a friendship one. A lot of misunderstandings coming from both PV and Smilk, strongly recommend!!

I think I should also mention Truthlessage fics (aka the swap versions from the costume stories) too since I love them a lot- "What the Bluebird Carries" is a great fic about their relationship very close to how I see them too so it was a delight to read <3

Another fun one is "Two Truths and Two Lies" essentially Smilk and Sage swap universes ngl like these kinds of concepts so I was sold immediately. Didn't disappoint at all. If you'd like a silly crackfic I also recommend "Stream: START" long story short Smilk becomes a streamer and PV follows after. Loved it, funny af.

Honorable mentions, some of these fics I didn't personally read but my friend talks about them so much I believe I should mention them: "Code of Honesty", "Golden Cage", "Beyond the Farm Gates." I trust my friend's judgment 🙏

Anyway these are the most memorable ones for me personally. I have my own fic but since I have no idea if I continue writing it I won't mention it lol

[thechekhov]

Hello! Just wanted to say I love all your content but I wanted to ask if you had any advice/tips for running curse of strahd? I'm working on getting ready to run it with some friends/my partner and while I've run a fair amount of homebrew stuff this is my real first attempt at a legit module so I was curious if you could share anything since I believe you also are running/had run that module as well?

Thanks for asking! This is a very fun question!

I have indeed run Curse of Strahd. It was my first foray into long-term DMing and my team and I finished that campaign a little under a year ago. It was awesome, and I'm always excited to talk about it. Curse of Strahd had be a great game if everyone is on the same page!

First of all, I'm gonna say

Having Experience with Homebrew will be a huge boon

When I ran CoS, I followed the actual module about... 60% of the time. It was good... as a baseline/blueprint. But the reality is that I changed up a lot of the details. Either because I didn't like the vibes of the story, or because the plot points were antithetical to my team's goals. I changed up an entire floor of Ravenloft. I threw away a whole storyline for a major NPC because I felt it was too boring.

I think most people who run Curse of Strahd do this, actually. I've heard countless tales of how others Homebrewed their own meat onto the skeleton, and still came out of the campaign with an awesome, Strahd flavored experience. So don't worry about that part.

Here's my advice:

1. Everyone should vibe with what Strahd IS as a game.

Strahd can be a lot of things - you can Homebrew your own motivations into him, or make him a her, or change the history of his castle if need be. But if there's one thing Curse of Strahd is... it is DARK.

The Venn Diagram of Parties Who Understand That Suffering Can Be Fun To Roleplay and Parties Who Had A Good Time Doing CoS is probably a circle. You cannot do this adventure with a group of people who just want to hit monsters a whole bunch. It's an inherently 'oh my god this SUCKS' adventure. That's the main theme. Your players need to be able to enjoy that sort of game, otherwise they will just be miserable.

One of my players, upon arriving in Barovia, immediately said 'I hate it here' and then continued to say it for the rest of the campaign. That is kind of the catchphrase of CoS. Your players need to be comfortable with that sort of bleak horror and overall misery. It makes the end and the potential to finally end Strahd worth it.

That being said, Strahd can also just be... a lot. It has death and torture and psychological horror in there. KIDS DIE. Please discuss this stuff with your table, and remove elements if they guarantee a bad experience for everyone!

(Yes, you can trim down some of the viscera if you need to, that's fine. But keep in mind it will still be tragic. It SHOULD still be tragic. I set some boundaries for myself, but I also killed a whole town in an avalanche. It happened to be the only town my players had grown to like. It was a dick move. It was exactly what you would expect to happen.)

2. Read ahead - A LOT AHEAD.

For a self-contained world, Barovia isn't actually that big. It's a very small map, compared to some that span continents. That means you have the ability to flesh it out, as it were.

To add to that... some areas are... severely underdeveloped plot-wise. Sometimes there are places your players will go where it FEELS like it should link up to another point in the game but it just... doesn't. There is room to expand there. Use your Homebrew skills to connect the dots that the module doesn't!

I greatly recommend taking the time to either read through the whole adventure OR listen through some video-essays. There IS some cool stuff that comes in in the later game that you can grab and put down breadcrumbs for from day one. Or add to your own story twists.

My recommended resource for this is the Curse of Strahd DM's Guide video series.

...and to that end...

3. Start living in Ravenloft Castle WAY before your players get there.

Listen..........listen. look.

Look at this, and suffer as all GMs have suffered.

Castle Ravenloft is unarguably the biggest, stupidest, most architecturally ludicrous hurdle when it comes to GMing CoS. And I am here to tell you - IT IS DOABLE.

You can understand the castle, you can grow comfortable with it. But you need to start early. Hell, I think I began to set up Ravenloft maps before my players even knew it existed. Then I stopped, because I was scared.. but then I went back, and I.... roleplayed SOLO on my off-days! I set up little scenes between Strahd and others and imagined him setting traps, and doing other things. It helped me understand which staircase led to where, and what floors were accessible from which angles.

A part of me actually thinks that there should be a mini GMs-only class where a more experienced Strahd GM takes some time with other GMs to guide them through a map of the castle. A CoS Learning Oneshot, if you will.

There's also a LOT of talented mapmakers that create beautiful, digital CoS maps! Here's one:

Even if you are playing analogue, at a physical table, I greatly encourage you to check it out for reference. The official CoS maps are bleak and a little bit more... rustic? Than they are gothic.

Anyway, in order to avoid talking your ear off, I will end it here.

My last bit of advice is... to have fun!

Yes I know I just said that Strahd is an inherently bad-vibes game. But it's actually GOOD to let your players goof off now and then. Don't be afraid to let them do shenanigans. It builds character, and allows them to regain the energy they need to role-play properly heavy elements later.

My group did a whole bunch of funny stuff. They felt so bad about losing Ireena that when they saw Ismark, instead of explaining themselves to him they cast Darkness and tried to scramble away. There was a running joke that the cleric was too good to know about sex, so they used the euphemism 'play cards' around her, much to everyone's amusement. They got kicked by a walking house once and never forgot nor forgave. And finally, they defeated some Flame Skulls by putting them into a bag of holding.

Anyway, the point is... have fun! I wish you and your party the best of luck. :)

[wanderingmind867]

I'd say Clayface is actually far more terrifying (to me) than most versions of Two-Face. Excluding the Aaron Eckhart one (that version with the burnt and exposed bones still terrifies me), Two-Face could be fixed with skin grafts. His burns could probably be fixed pretty quick. And I mean...burn victims don't exactly look undamaged, but they don't look like inhuman monsters. Even the worst victims i've seen in photos and on tv are recognizably human. Most they might do is make someone a bit uncomfortable at first. But you'd get over that. And Two-Face just has severe psychological trauma from his childhood, his DiD, his anger issues, his paranoia, etc. Psychological trauma, that real stuff, it isn't usually as scary to me. If anything, it can be relatable. The stuff I don't understand, that stuff is the worst. I hate authors like Stephen King for exactly that reason. His stuff is bizarre, and it's terrifying because of that.

Now, I think you see where i'm going with this. Clayface is a body horror nightmare. Imagine accidentally inhaling toxic fumes, or ingesting a dangerous untested make-up chemical. Or even sinking into a hot spring of protoplasm (like matt hagen did in the 60s). Imagine that sensation as you begin feeling sick. Then imagine losing focus on your physical body (to think about anything) and having your bones melt to soft clay. Your skin is just putty, capable of being stretched, squished and molded into different shapes. Some of these clayfaces can even melt into puddles on the ground. I find this more terrifying than anything with Two-Face or Joker. Scarecrow can be freaky too, but Clayface has the market cornered on body horror. I suppose he's like the evil twin to characters like plastic man. I kind of wonder what would happen in a crossover with those two. But that's a digression, probably just intended to distract me from imagining a man's bones dissolving and turning to soft clay the same texture of a soft solid, like butter or something. It's disgusting and disturbing.

[heyftinally]

Okay, I almost ranted about this on a reblog, but it can (and probably should) be it's own post.

Fiction effects reality and fiction does not effect reality are BOTH true.

Yes, I'm going to elaborate in the most unedited, covid-fueled rant I can, as tumblr intended. Hold on to your butts, grab a soda, and strap in.

First and foremost, I need all of the piss on the poor readers to stop their feral response typing - READ what I'm ACTUALLY SAYING before you start bitching about what you're pretending I said. Got it? Good.

This is going to involve nuance. Yes, I know, this website is allergic to nuance. Pop a Benadryl, you'll be okay.

Now, for real:

Fiction DOES effect reality BUT

Only in subtle ways. Absolutely nobody is going from your average normal Sarah to a cold blooded mass murderer because they played silent hill or something. People who become murderers always have some other motive, usually long term and/or severe (ie years of abuse, victim of trafficking, untreated psychological disorder usually paired with abuse, etc).

When I say fiction influences reality, I mean kids who grew up hearing Disney's Pocahontas say "you think the only people who are people are the people who look and think like you, but if you walk the footsteps of a stranger, you'll learn things you never knew you never knew" are more likely to be accepting of diversity than the kids who exclusively grew up on South Park and Family Guy.

I mean reading stories of real people's struggles with disabilities not being accommodated will make you more likely to notice inaccessibility in your daily life, and make you more likely to be accommodating to those who need it.

I mean reading about how a character was skeptical of or easily misled about something via the media can make you more critical of what you read.

Fiction effects reality because if you only consume one kind of media, we assume that's the only way things are. If we consume a vast array of media, we learn to explore different possibilities.

Fiction does NOT effect reality IN THE WAY THAT

Reading a fanfic (or even a published novel) with dubious themes is inherently going to normalize those themes in your reality.

Millions of people watched Hannibal, but cannibalism didn't surge.

Lolita is a rather famous novel, yet I've never heard of it being the sole reason someone suddenly condoned pedophilia out of nowhere.

Horror movies do not routinely make people murderers.

Fiction is not enough to make someone completely change their morals.

So where is the line?

Exactly where your critical thinking ends.

Because yes, there are people who watch shows like South Park and Family Guy and take the crass, bigoted, and otherwise truly vile jokes at face value, and find the humor in that. There are also people who watch it and see the jokes as hyperbole emphasizing just how terrible the people in the show are. Yes, some of this also has to do with the show writers, but again - your critical thinking is what tells you "is this show promoting being racist, or is it showing this character as racist to drive home what an absolute shitbag they are?"

The other aspect is your personal moral compass and ability to adapt.

Yes, I'm talking about echo chambers.

If you can NEVER accept being wrong, or if you refuse to change your mind on a specific topic (again, like racism), so instead of adapting you seek out people who are more likely to agree with you, you may find yourself starting to agree with other viewpoints that previously you wouldn't have.

And this can be good OR bad - if being friends with someone who agrees with you that racism is wrong, they may influence you to also start believing homophobia is wrong, and that's a good thing! But the reverse can also happen, and that's bad.

But media alone didn't do that - it was one of MANY contributing factors, including race, religion, disability (or lack thereof), income, how you were raised, where you live, and more.

So whenever I see people talking about "pro-ship" and "anti-proship", all I can think is

Shipping is only one tiny thing that media can influence you on - why is shipping your sticking point, but not murder?

You aren't capable or willing of engaging with the media you consume in EITHER direction.

Being anti/proship is irrelevant. If anything you're just telling me whether or not toxic purity culture is part of your specific flavor of media illiteracy. It means nothing of substance.

Instead of worrying about who ships what, worry about how your views and actions shape how you percieve and impact those around you.

[stick-ball]

saw a hc about jean moreau being hyper sexual especially post-ravens. thoughts? feelings?

thoughts AND feelings! Oh the joy of being given a chance for a hot second to discuss this. You came to the right place my love. ❤️

Trigger and age warning : rape, sex connected trauma, dissociation, psychological abuse, controlling relationships, discussion of sexual acts.

Okay so, being hyper sexual. You know who does that in the books? Andrew actually. I know some might look at me weirdly rn like, 'what the hell are you talking about, he doesn't let anyone touch him'. Yeah, that's true! But that doesnt take away from the knee jerk reaction. (I'm sorry I know this isn't exactly what you asked but I need to discuss andrew first, and that has a lot to do with jean, bear with me).

Andrew finds a partner that he can to some limit trust (leverage, deals, careful observation, "training" them to behave how he tells them) to follow his instructions, which gives him a sense of control. They can fuck, but it's him who's doing it. It's him who's touching, kissing ect. The other person, of course if they consent, get to partake but not create the experience. It's one of the very, very valid scenarios of hyper sexuality as a responce to rape. He is rewriting every poisoned nerve ending in his body. He doesn't actually get off from the sex. For his own release he needs privacy, as shown in the books. Andrew's problem can be, that due to his truly inhumane trauma he can fall into the mindset of defining his sense of self through sex. It's an action and he's a tool in this scenario. Then again, We circle back to control, which is also a key feature of his decisions and protectiveness. Taking total control of the situation which used to be utterly outside of it, with no way out of it. Rewriting it, giving the traumatic experience a positive ending, hell an ending - when, and as suddenly as he might want it to end, is the motivator here. I think what he finds satisfying in terms of sex, not control, is giving sexual consent to his partners and, which he finds just as important, them giving it to him. Because it wasn't given to him. It's a way of building trust.

The motivations sound pretty nice, even if heartbreaking, don't they? Seem uplifting? The problem is, even if in good faith, this process can be very harmful, trauma surviviors mention that (at least ones I discussed it with personally) it feels good, but in the long run it does what this type of coping mechanism always does to your brain (similiar reactions can be seen for different traumas), which is hurt it. It's a form of desensitisation that limits your brain's ability to percieve the situation. It's hard to rewrite and leads to hot and cold kind of reactions, so yeah, having a relationship with a capital R is, difficult. That's what I always understood as Nora saying they are never actually okay (andrew and neil). Or at least partly understood it as.

Okay, so this cleared a couple things up. Now JEAN. Jean and Andrew share some factors of their trauma. While not treated as such, Jean was technically fostered by the Moriyamas, and well, Andrew's experiences with being fostered are faaaaar from what it's supposed to be as well. The difference is in Andrew's situation everyone tried to pretend the horror is not happening, there must have been a lot of manipulation and coercion and just plain fucking gaslighting in these houses. Its hard to talk about but I can imagine some of these monsters wanted him to act like he is enjoying it, and thats just out if the emotional range of dealing with for anyone. Jean knew he's in a trap from day one. Moreover, when it comes to the rape's he was victim of it was ordered by Riko to be done by others. That's a different level of fucked up. What's even more important as distinction here is he stopped, when Jean stopped reacting and fighting it. Because what Riko wanted wasn't violation, that was the tool. He wanted to psychologically break him. When the fish stops flailing on the cat stops pushing it around.

And Riko was constant, his modus operandi was regular, and the psychological torture was the motivator behind most of his "conditioning" of Jean. This is a situation where the abuse has a cause for the victim. It sounds sick and I don't agree with it, but it's a game in their mind. In the books we can see that he learned how to limit the amount of attention Riko gave him and as we know he is not confrontational like Andrew with his problems. And yeah I don't mention Neil as confrontational here bcs he has conditioned himself to run from everything and say he's fine to everything so..., sometimes it erupts frk mit but that's not exactly the same, its a last resort.

Circling back, I think Jean is more likely to be sex repulsed. For him sex, which was a form of punishment, is a cause of anxiety. Sexual tension is easy to mix up with nervous tension because of a feeling of losing control of the situation. That's why if we do get romance in the new book, I am putting my money on it being very messy from his pov. The magical thing about trauma responces though, is that they're not black and white, and someone who is sex repulsed might also seek an ending to their anxieties through it. Yet, it's ts a bit of an opposite motivation to the one Andrew has. When Andrew thinks of himself as a tool, Jean is more likely to think of himself as an object. There's a difference. While Andrew wants to take control, Jean is more likely to use it as either a way to retraumatise himself - so his version of hypersexuality would include less control and more roughness and violence, actually trying to rile the partner up. It might stemm for him from low self worth or be a way of letting out his angers and frustrations. It's not that he is used to being hurt, it's that he doesn't expect anything different. I also think he is more likely to have problems with opening up in therapy. Where Andrew is active Jean is passive, and the opposite. The upside is he might actually be more likely to communicate emotionally than through rules and laws, it will take longer, but be a smoother transition, because more people understand it than Andrew's way of building relationships.

Hope this anwser satisfies you, I'm sorry if I got a bit carried away. 😅

[haley-harrison]

Eric Kripke is the Alfred Hitchcock of our generation. In this essay I will outline the main types of horror they use, offer examples, and elaborate the genius of the said tropes.

It will come as no surprise to anyone familiar with the man's work, that Kripke loves his ✨gore✨. Now that he's no longer restrained by CW's PG rating, he gets to go full-throttle with it in The Boys. That isn't to say that Supernatural didn't get it's fair share though - I mean, just remember the "Skin" episode in season one - that scene where the skinwalker changes his skin is pure body horror. Masterful.

Okay, Haley, so what? Some of us aren't squeamish. What's the brilliant part?

Good point, my med/bio orientated reader. That gets me to the second type of horror (and my personal kryptonite): psychological horror.

Here we get to lovecraftian themes. And I don't exactly mean Cthulhu. See, lovecraftian monsters are incomprehensible to the human mind, which generates horror through the unease of being unable to understand. Similarly, certain characters that the majority of the audience cannot identify with, can be used to the same end. Lemme illustrate this with two examples: Homelander and The Deep.

I reckon it's safe to assume most people aren't sadistic psychopaths, nor zoophiles with a penchant for sea creatures. Therefore the extreme Otherness of these two makes people uneasy, disturbing on a fundamental level. Hitchcock refined that particular horror trope by sprinkling his movies with taboo-topics of his own time, such as implied homosexuality. (*gasp* 🏳️‍🌈😆)

And here we get to the now well-known horror rule: the unseen monster is the scariest monster. More broadly, what is only implied can be more impactful than having the exact scenario shown on screen. The unsaid leaves more to the imagination (which is the most powerful tool for horror), and creates and additional dread with the element of unknown. People are unsettled by what else there might be, when elipses replace a clear answer.

Now back to Kripke, and how CW's censorship actually worked in his favor in Supernatural.

Maybe you saw this coming, but the monsters aren't the lovecraftian element. (Really, with the exception of tulpas and wendigos, none of them were even remotely scary). As I said above, Homelander and The Deep are lovecraftian because they're freaks. Unsympathetic freaks, but imagine if we took that first part away...

I shan't say it.

Just. Something something, american gothic, shit's implied and that's the point.

Haley, is this an elaborate ploy to talk about shipping? Really?

No. This is about environmental storytelling, gritty noir filter, camera angles, and just how much is left unsaid. This is about trauma, and repression, and the emotional reaction of the audience when they're left to ruminate a bit on the kind of lives the Winchesters had. It's about the missing scenes, the psychology, the implications - just -

*deep breath*

Another brilliant thing is how Kripke plays around with bathos - causing contrasting feelings in quick succession to give the audience emotional whiplash. The quips sprinkled in between the violence. The unexpected gag right before a gut-punch. It accentuates the experience for the audience. Like the way Dean's relationship with food is often played for laughs, but when you mull it over it's not hard to figure out the underlying food scarcity while growing up.

And furthermore, where did the money come from when times were tough? A myriad of angst-fics went ahead to answer that, which just proves an implication is far superior to exposition.

Then there's Hell. We don't get more than a few seconds of flashes, but think about it. Wouldn't Hell use every torture method imaginable? And what's the most psychologically damaging thing you can do to a person, especially a man?

I think you know the answer.

And that realization is the dawning psychological horror.

Finally, I'll leave you with this:

Just... Kripke!!!

I'm biting stuff!

[verdantwyrm]

I'm curious on what do you think about genderbend au of mouthwashing since I see a lot of people hates it for not "getting the point" and "erases the plot"

While some genderbends of it from what i see is never intended to be a serious au all of them are just like silly fanarts

Short answer? No, I don't think it inherently takes away from the plot and misses the point and people are allowed to have fun with their psychological horror video game however they like.

Long answer? I already have some pretty stickler opinions about genderbends as is simply put: Alot of them are extraordinarily lazy by just slimming down men into big busty women with no body fat or muscles, and so on the opposite way with turning women into big buff ugly alpha chad dudes. But whatever thats not the point— I think Genderbends, for specifically Mouthwashing, are fine.

While the pregnancy does play a very huge part in the game, it can be done expertly the other way around or not at all, if thats what you're aiming for, as the actual assault and it happening is just as important. Its just one of those kind of things you need to surgically manoeuvre around to make it not seem like you're dismissive towards rape against men or that women can be rapists without it coming off as extremely misogynistic, which is where alot of people that do write this stuff tend to fall towards, even by accident.

I absolutely do think, beyond Anya, that if the situation was genderswapped, I do think it would go pretty much the same. Some very small things would be changed, and I'm not entirely sure exactly what since the themes of Toxic Masculinity, Abuse of power, etc. All rely entirely on Pony Express' treatment of their workers, it boils back to capitalism and how it directly impacts people like Jimmy and directly enables their behaviour. The actual mince meat of the story wouldn't change all that much because PE is an absolute in both circumstances, and the things that would change are miniscule compared to the overarching theme of Capitalism Is Bad and that it Enables Bad People. As much as I love a good analysis, its a beautiful thing to be able to enjoy stuff on the surface level like fun art and silly AU's. or shipping, maybe even good endings! Its what keeps us sane.

[crownmemes]

Supernatural & Paranormal Sentences, Vol. 6

(Sentences from various sources for muses exploring the unexplained. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"There must be a rational answer for all of this."

"I have no tolerance for the unexplainable."

"Unfortunately, satanic ritual is alive and thriving. The trick is knowing how to recognise its patterns."

"You don't see ghosts. They don't exist. Is that clear?"

"You really believe this, don't you? That you're a vampire?"

"You're not scared of ghosts?"

"A cat! Don't you understand? It's the classic satanic offering! It's what they do - it's what they've always done!"

"I have a bad feeling about this..."

"Hateful things live in this house."

"I haven't seen a lot of horror movies, but this seems like exactly the kind of place they'd suggest to avoid."

"When I was a kid, I could see things. Things humans aren't supposed to see."

"You must allow that each incident in itself is capable of a more natural explanation."

"Hey, are you experiencing an ominous sense of foreboding?"

"I know only that we cannot hide from our ghosts. Whether they are real or not, we must make our peace with them."

"You haven't come all this way just to turn back now, have you?"

"They do tests. Psychological, medical. They look inside your head, and they insert a tracking device inside your brain sometimes. You wouldn't like that."

"I know that this is hard to understand, but you have to believe me that this is real!"

"You don't think that's a little paranoid?"

"For once in your life, admit that you are up against something bigger than you!"

"I'm not weird! It's just that weird things keep happening to me!"

"Nobody ever feels really safe in the dark."

"At the time she was seen, it was impossible that she could be a living person."

"If we identify a UFO, does that just mean it's an FO?"

"Don't worry, people who die in this house always come back."

"I talk to ghosts here all the time."

"You cannot make deals with the dead!"

"Normal? There's nothing normal about this!"

"To a collector of fairytales, this is no doubt fascinating - but you cannot seriously believe that."

"It is quite the feat to kill that which is already dead!"

"Please be aliens, please be aliens, please be aliens..."

"There are things happening here that you don't understand, and right now, you just need to accept that."