#me when i am blamed for the destruction of the world

[valenshawke]

In Defense of Caitlyn Kiramman

No, this is not a defense of any of her actions or decisions she made after she donned the beret. This is a defense of the writing of her character and what (I believe) the writers are trying to do. With only one act down, there’s many ways the writers can take this. They could very well fumble it. However, I will give the writers the benefit of the doubt. With that out of the way…

The descent into darkness and the corruption arcs are classic storytelling. Where the protagonist, hit with so many traumas and setbacks, gives into her darker feelings, sometimes aided by a more devious figure in the background.

Given all the traumas that Caitlyn has experienced as explained by @bramblebeau, something was going to happen. Without Ambessa Medarda being that devious figure, would Caitlyn have gone full authoritarian at the end of episode 3? Maybe. I still think she would have, but perhaps not as far. But to argue that this is bad storytelling because Caitlyn did not keep her idealism and morality is… horrible missing the point. 

What are the points? When faced with trauma and the desire to retaliate and seek revenge, it is very easy to manipulate those who want those two things. And, in the world we actually live in, we have seen this time and again. Need I bring up the US War on Terror? Whether directly or indirectly, the cultural impact of the 9/11 Attacks, second Iraq War, and the US War on Terror has been and will continue to do so (and if you want a less subtle commentary on that, check out Naoki Urasawa’s Pluto also on Netflix). 

Ambessa Medarda not only manipulating Caitlyn, but the Piltover Elite, was masterful because it showed how easy it is when you can control the flow of information, control the rhetoric, and eventually dehumanize your “enemy” as something less than human. It’ll be fascinating to hear how Caitlyn’s speech changes and what type of language she uses when talking about Zaun.

At this point, we don’t know exactly what the writers are going to do. But it does raise some intriguing and exciting questions from a storytelling perspective. Caitlyn, right now, is at the edge of (the heart) of darkness. Is her blood-lust for revenge going to cause her to fall in? Will someone be able to talk sense into her? Can anyone in Piltover talk any sense into her? How, if at all, can Vi be the one to help/save her? Or will they save each other? How can Vi be that tiny light in the darkness when she has her own trauma to deal with? (There’s another point to examine how both dealt with the trauma by the end of Act 1. Vi went inward and, based on the trailers, went full self-destructive mode. Caitllyn went outward and became the public face of a fascist regime). 

Caitlyn already started taking steps to that darkness after she got the Kiramman key and decided that GASSING ZAUN (and all the implications THAT brings)  was the best option for her strike team to open its mission to capture Jinx, dismantle shimmer, neutralize any agents loyal to Silco. Whatever justification given, especially by Vi, is naive at best and delusional at worst. Vi might have gone along simply because she feels some blame and wants to support Caitlyn. But what Caitlyn did was unjustifiable. The moment you simply accept “collateral damage” as simply being a Tuesday, your moral dipstick is bone dry (credits to Fox Mulder for that one). But that isn’t bad storytelling. I’m supposed to feel that way.

Caitlyn’s descent, as it stands, allows the writer to either give her something of a redemption arc where she realizes the horrors of what she has done and what has to be done to fix it. 

This is classic storytelling 101.

And I am fucking here for it.

Thanks to @caitlyn-kirammans for listening to me ramble this out first.

[rafesbabyg1rl]

Hiii pretties! Welcome to my blog!! Please keep things positive and stay slutty my friends!!!

~If you have any requests, please feel free to leave it in my inbox!!!~

Masterlist: The Watcher (Part One, Part Two, ...)

you can read the rest if you wanna like know more about me n shit ig

Hello!! I'm Kay, or K, kat, whatever you wanna call me. I'm literally just a girl. I am a freakkkk. I do be a bit of a stoner y'all, and I usually am high when I write, so if I make a mistake, I'm blaming that. I'm from the United States (unfortunately) and I only speak English. This is a safe place; I am always here if anyone wants to talk. I do not discriminate; I do not spread hate. I do not and will not tolerate hate or unkind behavior towards me or others here on my blog. Like seriously guys I have bad anxiety, so please be nice and don't make it harder for me.

This is pretty much solely for Outer Banks, Rafe Cameron to be more specific. But, feel free to talk to me about other things!

Other things I'm interested in/passionate about: Taylor Swift, veterinary medicine, Breaking Bad, Better Call Saul, The Walking Dead, 13 Reasons Why, Supernatural, Jurassic Park/World, Harry Potter, The Maze Runner, The Hunger Games, comedy movies (Seth Rogen & James Franco). I love cold weather, books, and cats. Music is life and I listen to a little bit of everything so feel free to send songs.

I AM a student, so just keep in mind that I may be inactive because I’m in CLASS or doing work; because I will prioritize that over tumblr (well, i try). Other times I’m inactive because I am sleeping, or because I’m busy with LIFE. I am not tied to my tumblr and blog. I’ve had only positive experiences here so far, but I know that fanfic writers are often mistreated by readers, but guys we are all just people.

If you want me to hurry up and publish new work, don't tell me that, just interact with my blog and compliment my writing and that will motivate me more than anything else ever could. Also ASK AND REQUEST PLEASEEE!! I really enjoy and appreciate new ideas and feedback from other people's brains. I also appreciate constructive criticism. Don't be mean about it, but if you dislike or disagree with something, tell me politely. I like hearing feedback and am always working on improving my writing.

Seriously y'all, please please PLEASE do NOT be hateful. Do that on your own time, not here. I will not tolerate unnecessary attitude and hate. I believe in forgiveness, and I know that mistakes and misunderstandings happen. I will treat anyone and everyone with kindness and respect unless I have reason not to (really hoping I don't).

Who do I write for? I only write for Rafe Cameron. However, I'm not opposed to writing a little or sharing thoughts about other Outer Banks Characters!

What do I write? I will write literally almost anything. There’s no such thing as too much for me, so request away please. ------ As for darker topics, I will write them. Actually, a large portion of my work will include darker topics/themes/kinks, etc. I will write sensitive subjects too. But just because I live for that shit, doesn't mean everyone else does so I'll do my best to include warnings on all my work for any content that might potentially be triggering for others.

(Small warning: mentions of my mental struggles and self-destructive habits) I've always struggled mentally. I've always felt as though the way my brain works is different from everyone else; like something is wrong with me. But after many many years, I now have a better understanding of myself and how my brain works. Not to dump this on y'all, I swear I have a point, but I have diagnosed depression, anxiety, and ADHD. These things are all a big challenge I face in my day-to-day life and are often the leading cause of why I may take longer to write and publish things. I may take breaks, so don't worry if I'm not active, I will be back at some point. And I'll try my best to update you guys on when I'm gonna be less active or vice versa. Another way my mental health effects my writing is because when I write, a lot of the time my personal experiences or feelings will end up incorporated within my work, since well, it's all coming from my brain. I mostly write for myself to express my thoughts and feelings, having others read and actually enjoy my work is just an added bonus. But personally, I have struggled with self-harm for about one third of my life. I often get ideas for new works revolving around this theme and may publish things about it eventually. Themes such as mental illnesses, self-harm, abuse, insecurities, EDs, suicidal thoughts, unhealthy relationships (obv), toxic household, etc. will have a reoccurring appearance throughout my works. So just be prepared, I guess.

And like I said before, if anyone needs to talk, I am ALWAYS here and I am a very good listener.

Everyone is more than welcome to message me or leave anything in my inbox. Whether it's to chat, request something, ask something, literally whatever is welcome!! (Except hate I don't fw that)

Thank you for visiting my blog, I hope you enjoy! As always, be kind and stay slutty!

[creepa-b0t-inc]

what the hell dude, I had to reinstall undertale because it was broken and wouldn't play, and now it thinks i completed a genocide route???

IT WAS LIKE THIS WHEN I GOT HERE WHAT DO YOU MEEEEAAAAN

[evilminji]

You know what I would kill to see?

Nedzu, in the Zone.

He IS a registered Hero, after all. He probably gets calls for missions. Failing that, he's still legal allowed to intervene. Like, say, if some poor four year old were losing their shit? Got separated from their mommy, their headache, which has been getting Ochier ALL DAY has finally gotten Really REALLY bad... and they... they just CAN'T! So they melt down.

Whoops. Four year old with portals.

In a crowd.

Luckily he, Mr. Principle, is a "cute" looking sort of Hero. And as an educator, well trained in de-escala-*CRASH!* Some jackass glory chasing young thing, with no care for innocent lives around them, smashes onto the scene. Terrifying the poor child. Which obviously makes their non-existent control WORSE.

Starts throwing the word "villian" around.

Nedzu is going to EAT his license in front of him.

The poor thing is hyperventilating, crying, clinging desperately to Nedzus suit. Things are being flung from portals. Sucked into portals. He's seen no less then 53 SEPERATE dimensions on the other side of those rifts. At least two were to the open void of space.

He narrowly dodges a portal straight into the heart of a volcano. Can feel the blistering heat singe his fur. Alumni from HIS school, at least, have arrived to actually SAVE people. Get the crowd away from the danger zone.

And to think, all he wanted was some tea.

How this MORON doesn't recognize him, he has no idea. His graduates are actively SHOUTING his identity, for heavens sake. Yet the glory hound continues to chase his so called "villians" at the expense of everyone around him.

He's about to throw the boy to a near by police officer, to get to safety, when the worst occurs. The tract of land he was about to push off of disappears beneath them. The boy's mother screams. He activates High Specs, world slowing as his mind rushs. Twisting, he throws the boy high.

The portal closes before he can see if it is Eraserhead or Cementoss who will be the one to catch him. The odds were 68.3% in Eraserhead's favor. He hopes... Aizawa, does so take these things quite hard, he hope he will not blame himself.

There was no way to catch him in time.

He was already gone.

Gravity arrests, slowing to a drifting meander. The air thick with something the burns his sensitive nose. Green. Everything is a very peculiar green. This is not a planets or if it is, it is countless times larger then Earth. A gas giant of some sort? There does not appear to be a horizon.

In the distance, an almost stereotypical spaceship changes destinations. Now aiming right for him. It seems aid might be on the way. With nothing better to do, he waits. They slow to a stop, a hatch opens, and... oh? A young Hero student! Hello there young man! I am Mr. Principle of the illustrious UA!

And just? Danny? Trying to return this small furry alien guy back to his alien hero school? Getting the run around and "hmmmm, let me look that uuuup *takes forever* yeeeeah, soooorry. You're in the wrong department. You'll have to fly like three days to this OTHER department, fill out 260 forms, and dance for our amusement. Byeeeee~"

Like? He just wants to get this guy HOME! Why are you all LIKE THIS!?

All while Nedzu is " :) My, this is FASCINATING. I am learning new things, battling wits, learning new languages, AND guiding a promising young mind towards a future of Better Heroics? Delightful! This is practically a vacation!"

He even stops by the Fentons for dinner. Some fudge. A little light destruction of Goverment branches on the side. Just? A Grand ol adventure of Nedzu.

Danny suffers through bureaucratic hell. But Nedzu? The most mentally stimulated he's been in years. His crops are watered and his fur is groomed. Thriving! New toys!

Then?? He just... shows back up to work.

How did he return? Where has he been?? Who is this glowing green Hero Child groaning face down on his very expensive carpet? *sips tea* wouldn't YOU like to know, weather boy! *maniacal Nedzu laughter*

@hdgnj @babbling-babull @lolottes @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter @hypewinter @spidori

[cordeliawhohung]

Real Talk.

Hi. I wish I had good news, but I don't. This is going to get very venty and probably triggering, so I apologize in advance, but I don't want to just vanish.

I've made the decision to private pretty much everything on my account here on tumblr, and I am heavily fighting the urge to delete everything off of my AO3. I realize that I'm sort of self destructing, in a way, and I'm trying very hard not to just toss everything into the void lest I come to regret it later, but here we are.

Things in my IRL have not been great, and they haven't been good for a long while. I started up this blog a little over a year ago at the crux of my depression, fighting off extreme suicidal ideation and untreated PTSD. On top of that, I had to support my mother through marrying her abuser and watching her slowly lose herself while I helped assisted in taking care of my kid brother, and helped my other brothers through their battles with addiction. Like everyone else in the world, I've had a lot on my plate. So much so to the point that my anxiety and stress is making me sick.

For the first time in a very long time, I had picked up writing again and found it to be a wonderful outlet to really get my feelings out in a safe way. It was so freeing being able to be in control of everything, and explore the very real and scary emotions that people have otherwise wanted me to snuff out. I wish I could snuff it out. I have had no choice but to feel everything I wish I could run away from, but at least this way I was the one dictating everything. Even through the pain and the last few months of pure disassociation, this was mine.

Now, I hate it. I hate it all. I can hardly stand looking at these stories or anything I write.

I am not going to share names; and please do not go looking for this person or harass them as I'd quite frankly rather kill myself than have another glimimp situation and would probably just actually delete all my works; but something that really kicked this up was someone plagiarizing one of my works. While not exactly copy and pasted, I could compare pretty much every line they wrote to my own work. I do not mind people taking inspiration from my works, but the fact someone took it upon themselves to essentially create a "fix-it-fic" of my work was honestly the last straw for me, I think. And to just regurgitate half of what I had written like some high schooler summarizing a story?

"Kore, did you try talking to them?" The idea of confrontation actually makes me want to throw up and considering the actual issues I have going on in my real life, I don't see how it's worth getting up in arms over fanfiction. Believe it or not, I'm not really good with words, and I end up making a fool of myself and coming off way different than I intend to half the time (blame the autism I guess). And I know for a fact that it won't change the fact that I still hate it. My works. Everything I write. I want it gone. I want to purge it.

I hate The Prowl and TMTIV. I can't see myself writing for them anymore. I've tried. I had to force out the last chapter of The Prowl only to just not even be able to edit it. (Yeah when that anon sent me that ask about The Prowl? "When are you updating it next?" I literally had the rough draft finished when they sent that and was trying to edit it, and now I don't even want to look at it anymore).

And this sucks because I really do enjoy sharing my stories with you guys, but it's just not fun anymore. And if it's not fun, then why do I keep doing it? And I feel bad, especially to my patreon supporters because I definitely didn't deserve the support when I started that up, and I certainly don't deserve it anymore, but I really need to step away. For a good, long while.

I don't like dealing in certainties, which is why I'm privating everything on here rather than deleting my blog, because maybe one day I'll come back and continue. But right now it's really not healthy for me. This place has grown to become so toxic. I think I'll start focusing on original works instead. Ones I may or may not post to Patreon just... depending, I guess. Writing is still so lovely and I don't want to lose it, but I certainly can't keep it here for now.

I want to apologize to my followers, and my mutals. I cherish every kind message you all have sent to me. I appreciate how considerate you all are, and I'm sorry I don't have the energy to respond half the time. I've deleted tumblr off of my phone, so to the mutuals who want to keep in contact with me, feel free to ask for my discord or something. I'll try to get on to check tumblr every now and then for that.

In the end, I really hope this is just me having some stupid mental breakdown, and that this isn't a forever goodbye, but we'll see.

I'll hopefully be back someday (: if not, I'm sorry and I still love you.

[goodnightmemes]

HOUSE OF THE DRAGON SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTERS

❛ Duty is sacrifice. It eclipses all things, even blood. All men of honor must pay its price.

❛ War is coming, to the whole of the realm.❜

❛ I am indebted to you. ❜

❛ I'm afraid. ❜

❛ We should've just killed her when we had the chance. ❜

❛ When the king speaks, Your Grace, all hear it. ❜

❛ I find myself wondering...do we pursue the same end? ❜

❛ You must accept that the path to victory now is one of violence. ❜

❛ Did you think I would wither in your absence? ❜

❛ You only blame me because your true enemies are out of reach. ❜

❛ She holds love for our enemy. That makes her a fool. ❜

❛ I promise you, you will have all the vengeance that you seek, but you must keep a grip on your impulses. ❜

❛ Do anything but what I ask, and I'll bleed the whole lot of ya. ❜

❛ The gods punish us. They punish me. ❜

❛ This is not the time for blind accusations. We'll know who did this soon enough. ❜

❛ I will not be seen as weak. ❜

❛ Sometimes, we have to pretend. ❜

❛ I cannot trust you. I've never trusted you, wholly, much though I wished to, willed myself to. But now I have seen that your heart belongs only to you. ❜

❛ You think me some kind of monster. ❜

❛ You're pathetic. ❜

❛ We can afford no further mistakes. ❜

❛ You are mad. Mad! You cannot think that I did this! ❜

❛ You would send me to my death. ❜

❛ I would remind you only that when princes lose their temper, it is often others who suffer. ❜

❛ I see all your great adventures have done nothing for your looks. ❜

❛ For too long, I made it my aim to be of consequence. But now, I see that was the wish of a child. ❜

❛ I wish to spill blood, not ink! ❜

❛ Instead of judgment, you display impetuousness, and diminish us in the eyes of our enemy! ❜

❛ Fuck dignity! I want revenge. ❜

❛ They wish now not for the good of the realm, but for the petty satisfaction of vengeance. ❜

❛ Soon they will not even remember what it was that began the war in the first place. ❜

❛ There is no war so hateful to the gods as a war between kin. ❜

❛ I'm as fearsome as any of them. ❜

❛ You showed me grace when you could have withheld it. I'm not often surprised. ❜

❛ I cannot promise to make you happy. But I ask you: make this sacrifice willingly, for all of us. ❜

❛ If you've not yet surmised, you are welcome here. ❜

❛ Sin begets sin begets sin. ❜

❛ If dragons begin fighting dragons, we invite our own destruction. ❜

❛ Do not coddle me. Grant me at least that dignity. ❜

❛ Sadness is a condition of motherhood. ❜

❛ You have as much claim to grief as anyone. ❜

❛ Tales take on a life of their own, like weeds. Unless they are tended. ❜

❛ Always coming and going, aren't you? And I have to clean up afterwards. ❜

❛ You will die in this place. ❜

❛ I have been, at times, unkind, but never untrue. ❜

❛ You must go before you are discovered. ❜

❛ Your mother must've been very beautiful. ❜

❛ You should've burned them when you had the chance. ❜

❛ Is there no honor left in this world? ❜

❛ This is a better death than a traitor deserves. You should thank me for it. ❜

❛ I will not be made to look a fool in front of my allies and enemies. ❜

❛ I believe it is a sin to deny your appetites. They are what make us fully alive as mortal men. ❜

❛ If I may be so bold, you have not seemed yourself of late. ❜

❛ I've barely had the hours to grieve one tragedy before suffering the next. ❜

❛ I've come to know the face of tortured rest well enough. ❜

❛ Do you think simply wearing the crown imbues you with wisdom? ❜

❛ You have no idea the sacrifices that were made to put you on that throne. ❜

❛ What would you have me do? ❜

❛ Do simply what is needed of you: nothing. ❜

❛ Where have you been, these last days? You vanished without so much as a word.❜

❛ There are those who have mistaken my caution for weakness. Let that be their undoing. ❜

❛ If you die, all is lost. ❜

❛ The horrors I have just loosed cannot be for a crown alone. ❜

❛ Do you take issue with me? ❜

❛ I can sit still no longer. I must act. ❜

❛ I did not think they would be so eager to die. ❜

❛ I need them alive. I came here to raise swords, not corpses. ❜

❛ Will you goad me? When your bread and shelter now depend on my pleasure? ❜

❛ I mislike feeling powerless. ❜

❛ I do not know my part. The path I walk has never been trod. ❜

❛ What you cannot do, let others do for you. ❜

❛ There is more than one way to fight a war. ❜

❛ I do not wish to stand alone. ❜

❛ Has your loyalty faded? Or does it flourish only at night and flee the sunrise like a moth? ❜

❛ What we must do now is... terrible. ❜

❛ This is not war. These are crimes against the innocent, that any upright man would repudiate. ❜

❛ And once again, in the name of power, it's the weak and the women who must endure. ❜

❛ Was it worth the price? ❜

❛ I caution you, boldness is one thing, but overconfidence… ❜

❛ You have the impetuousness of youth, and its arrogance, neither of which is to be desired in a king. ❜

❛ Have the indignities of your childhood not yet sufficiently been avenged? ❜

❛ To claim a dragon, you must also be prepared to die. ❜

❛ You can't possibly still be angry about this. ❜

❛ You weren't going to bid me farewell? ❜

❛ It is your way, is it not? When something does not please you, you run. ❜

❛ There are older things in this world than you or I, or living memory. ❜

❛ You are not the player, but a piece on the board. As am I, for that matter. ❜

❛ It is my fault, I think, that you have forgotten to fear me. ❜

❛ It was worth the risk, no matter the outcome. ❜

❛ The enemy without may be fought with swords. The enemy within is more insidious. ❜

❛ Do you take me for a fool? ❜

❛ Oh, you make an art of provoking me. ❜

❛ Stop wasting your life waiting for something that'll never come. ❜

❛ I'm sure you did your best. ❜

❛ They will underestimate you, and this will be your advantage. ❜

❛ If the gods call me to greater things, who am I to refuse them? ❜

❛ Nothing is clean here. ❜

❛ The order of things has changed. Why not embrace it? ❜

❛ It does seem to me that you've made rather a mess here. ❜

❛ I don't need their love. I need their swords. ❜

❛ Mind your tongue. ❜

❛ I mislike all of this. ❜

❛ It seems you need us more than we need you. ❜

❛ So, what was the fucking point in all this then? ❜

❛ It's best to live, I think. However you do it. ❜

❛ You are not alone. ❜

❛ Will you prepare to face such an enemy? Or will you stay here and make yourself easy? ❜

❛ If you hinder our efforts through sloth or unreadiness, I will see you hanged, and your body fed to the dogs in the street. ❜

❛ You've arrived just in time to see my new army. What do you think of it? ❜

❛ This place will have you barking at the moon. ❜

❛ We must all make our sacrifices. ❜

❛ 'Tis no longer our rule that is threatened, our very lives. ❜

❛ Perhaps all men are corrupt and true honor is a mist that melts in the morning. ❜

❛ The dragons dance, and men are like dust under their feet. ❜

❛ We march now toward our annihilation. ❜

❛ There will be time enough to see which one of us is a coward. ❜

❛ There are omens here for those who seek them. ❜

❛ It's all a story and you are but one part in it. You know your part. ❜

❛ I am meant to serve you, and all of these with me, until death or the end of our story. ❜

❛ Be strong. You know you are just. ❜

❛ History will paint you a villain. ❜

❛ I am at last myself, with no ambition greater than to walk where I please and to breathe the open air. To die unremarked and unnoticed and be free. ❜

❛ You speak as if from a distant dream. ❜

❛ Come with me. ❜

❛ My part is here, whether I will or no. It was decided for me long ago. ❜

[sweet-s0rr0w]

Vintage Drarry Fics

Thought I'd put together a list of some of the old Drarry 'classics' of my teenage years, for anyone interested. All posted between 2001-2006, compiled using my (bad) memory, a lot of googling, fanlore.org and numerous different LJ rec accounts (including the incredible @capiturecs). I checked as best I could, but if anyone knows of any fics that their author doesn't want to be shared, please let me know and I will of course remove.

Please also note that these fics are of their era, when attitudes may have been different, and they may not all be grammatically perfect. I haven't reread all, as my own tastes have changed, but most importantly do note that they may not be tagged - don't blame me when, for example, Harry dies tragically on a rooftop at sunrise...

Hogwarts Era (mostly 5th-7th year)

A Thousand Beautiful Things by Duinn Fionn/geoviki (M, 105k)

Draco Malfoy struggles with changed fortunes, shifted alliances, an ugly war, and an unusual spell, with the help of a concerned professor, an insightful house-elf, and an unexpected Gryffindor friend.

All Bets Are Off by Allegra (R, 53k)

I am SICK of Good-little-innocent!Harry...Enter Playboy!Harry and his Overinflated Ego, a challenge, a bet, a couple of Really Cunning Plans - and there you have it, "Forty days and forty nights", Hogwarts style. Mayhem ensues! 

Angels and Devils by beren (E, 52k)

Harry defeated Voldemort and his act of heroism is famous throughout the wizarding world. He's trying to finish his final year at Hogwarts in peace, but, thanks to the method he chose to destroy The Dark Lord, something peculiar is happening to him, something he never would have expected. It's all rather embarrassing and making his life very complicated.

Artful Facade by Sky Sorceress (T, 66k)

Sometimes you fly too close to the sun and lose your wings. With sixth year approaching, the danger Harry seeks can be found only in the form of Draco Malfoy. What follows is a twist in the line between hatred, love, and need.

Beautiful World by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 70k)

Harry finds out he's going to die on his 16th birthday. He embarks on a journey of self-destructive behaviour and drags Draco along for the ride. 

Beneath You by Cinnamon/Lissadiane (M, 113k)

Draco had no idea that the repercussions of stealing Potter's journal and shoving it down the back of his trousers would be so extreme.

Bond by AnnaFugazzi (M, 173k)

It seems 95% of H/D writers feel compelled to write a "Harry And Draco Are Forced To Be Together By Something Beyond Their Control And Then Unlikely Stuff Happens That Leads To Twoo Wuv" story. Count me among the 95% ;)

Checkmate by Naadi Moonfeather (T, 245k)

Draco has the perfect plan to get Harry Potter and challenges him to a game of Dare Chess. But is it love, or betrayal, he has in mind?

The Cicatrix Cycle by Ivy Blossom (NC-17, long!)

Three parts: Origins, Haven, Belong

Draco In Darkness by Plumeria (T, 41k)

Following an accident in his seventh year, Draco loses his eyesight. After Harry elbows his way into Draco's dark world, both boys find themselves in a strange new friendship, and they each learn new ways to see each other … and themselves.

Eclipse by PhoenixSong/Mijan (T, 287k)

"You're dead, Potter... I'm going to make you pay..." Draco swore his revenge on Harry for Lucius's imprisonment, and Harry all but laughed at him. But Draco is planning more than schoolyard pranks this time. The old rivalry turns deadly when Draco abducts Harry for Voldemort. It's the perfect plan, guaranteeing revenge, power, and prestige, all in one blow. But, when Draco's world turns upside down, the fight to save himself and Harry begins, and the battle will take them both through hell and back. If they come back. 

Friend Like Me by Lady Vader (M, 11k)

Draco's rendition of the love story that never was.

How Harry Potter Got His Groove Back by Durendal/Eleveninches (R, 12k)

Snape tries to hang himself, Draco enters an alternate reality, and Harry Gets a Clue. Humor, SLASH, naughty language, and other Evil Things. Harry/Draco, Snape/James/Lucius.

Irresistible Poison by Rhysenn (PG-13, 124k)

Under the influence of a love potion, Draco learns that poison doesn't always bring death -- there are other ways to suffer and live. Chemical emotion runs feverish as Harry and Draco discover the intoxication of love.

Lettered by pir8fancier (M, 7.8k)

Harry has a secret penpal, whose identity is as plain as the nose on his face. Except he's not wearing his glasses.

Love Under Will by Aja (R, 116k)

In their 5th year, Harry and Draco choose to be with one another; but the story--and the battle-- is just beginning...

playing the game, living the lie by Abaddon (R, 159k)

Set in Sixth Year, both the wizarding and Muggle worlds are threatened as Voldemort plans a final revenge. Past, present and future collide as all must consider where their loyalties lie; who they are, and who they want to be. Amidst it all, Harry and Draco begin a dangerous journey of understanding. Is it possible to leave everything you thought you were behind?

Resolution by Frances Potter (R, 322k)

When you've spent six years fighting evil, all you really want is a quiet time. But when your name is Harry Potter the chances of that are very slim. A series of vignettes chronicling Harry's final six months at Hogwarts. Exams, friends, lovers, Quidditch, the war and Draco all conspire to make the year end seem a very long way away.

Seamus is Seamus and You are Yourself by Ari Munami (PG-13, 31k)

Harry goes through some er... changes in his Sixth Year and everyone, including Draco Malfoy, sits up and takes notice.

Snakes and Lions by GatewayGirl (M, 139k)

When Ron and Hermione get together, they notice only each other. A nightmare prompts Harry to return alone to the empty Chamber of Secrets, and leads to a new look at an old enemy. Harry enjoys the company, but with Bellatrix Lestrange actively hunting him, how far can he trust a Death Eater's son?

Something Impossible by epicylical/Cassandra Claire (PG, 6.4k)

As punishment for an act of vandalism, Draco is forced to perform three tasks to win Harry's forgiveness - only they don't turn out to be exactly the kind of tasks he'd been expecting. With wet shirtless Draco, paint-covered Harry, and Proust-reading Goyle.

Transformation by amalin (E, 98k)

In Harry's sixth year at Hogwarts, he must face the consequences of the attack on the Department of Mysteries and the effects of Voldemort's return. And in doing so, he finds that even your enemies can teach you valuable lessons—about the world, and about yourself.

Walking the Line by SilentAuror (E, 179k)

Sixth year is over and Draco Malfoy is on the run. The war is on and an unwanted assignment is forced upon him by the only people he trusts - and a one-time arch-enemy just may be out to kill him.

Post-Hogwarts

Adagio in G Minor by furiosity (NC-17, 18k)

Seven years after Hogwarts and the war, life continues in the wizarding world. Draco Malfoy is rich, bored, and slightly jaded. Harry Potter is famous, busy, and somewhat disillusioned. They've not seen each other since school ended. What would happen if they were to cross paths again? What if it involved music?

Big Dick, Come Quick [PDF] by Calanthe (NC-17, 204k)

Draco’s got a theory. About sex. And after much searching for the right candidate, it appears that only Harry Potter, his life long enemy, can help him test it out.

Draco's Escort Service by Cheryl Dyson/dysonrules (15, 12k)

Draco's job is to escort travelers through the dangerous, war-torn countryside. Harry Potter is forced to hire him, but his destination isn't quite what Draco expected.

Left My Heart by Emma Grant (E, 85k)

Auror Draco Malfoy has disappeared, and Harry Potter has been sent to San Francisco to find him. 

Malfoy, P.I. by Nancy (R, 60k)

"I'm Draco Malfoy, private investigator. I've seen a lot--I mean a lot, and I'm like sweet seventeen a lot. I thought I'd seen it all, until a pair of green eyes stepped into my office." A noir AU set in L.A. where passion and magic collide. Slashy and sexy.

Queen of Hearts by scoradh (E, 65k)

A spectre is haunting Harry - the responsibility of his destiny. It looms over his future and, more importantly, over the future of his friends. Harry is determined to exorcise this spectre for the greater good, but on the way, he enters into a few unholy alliances.

Tissue of Silver by fearlessdiva (R, 76k)

A love story concerning possessed furniture, black silk pyjamas, courtroom drama, premonitions of doom, assassination attempts, Death Eater yoga, absinthe, bare feet and a sensible werewolf.

Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow by November Snowflake (M, 58k)

When the long-missing Draco Malfoy turns up at a Ministry field hospital with amnesia, bitter Auror Harry Potter must confront the shadows of their shared past to shed light on a potentially deadly mystery.

Transfigurations by Resonant (E, 71k)

Five years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry returns to England to help re-open Hogwarts.

[blondeboyfriend]

𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐕𝐈 (𝟏𝟖+)

𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈

[ PAIRING ] Zeke Yeager x f!reader [ AUTHOR'S NOTE ] Cupio dissolvi means "I wish to be dissolved" and it's typically used in a religious context, but I'm using it in the secular sense to express "such concepts as the rejection of existence and the masochistic desire for self-destruction." You can thank Wikipedia for that last bit. Enjoy the pwp. Don't fuck your psychiatrist. [ SYNOPSIS ] You reluctantly decide to tackle your personal issues and end up in the clutches of a psychiatrist with questionable methods. [ WORD COUNT ] 3.8k [ CONTENT ] Modern AU, dubcon, power imbalance, sadomasochism, dacryphilia, impact play/spanking, some very brief phone sex, size kink (Zeke is bigger than you, calls you little), praise, a little predator/prey but it's mostly in the mc's head, dumbification, facial.

“Welcome. I’m Dr. Zeke Yeager. It’s nice to meet you.”

You didn’t shake his extended hand as you crossed the threshold into his office. You practically sprinted to sit down in a plush chair. You gazed straight ahead, looking past the psychiatrist. He was rendered a formless smudge, a figure unworthy of focus, as he took a seat. The wall behind him was painted a faded pink, a pathetic attempt to subdue. It reminded you of an abandoned Barbie dreamhouse.

“Thanks for taking the time to see me,” you said, words glazed with malaise.

This was the last place you wanted to be, but the only person you could blame was yourself. A brief moment of supposed clarity overwhelmed your self-destructive nature, and you made an appointment to see a psychiatrist.

“What are you hoping to get out of these sessions?” he asked.

You allowed your eyes to focus and droned, “Uhhhhhhh. Well, Dr. Yea—”

“Call me Zeke. There’s no need to be formal.”

Zeke was younger than you expected. He looked more like a high school history teacher, the kind that lets kids hang out in his classroom after school. His wavy blond hair was in perfect disarray; it was clear he put a lot of effort into looking effortless. He wore a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up. It fit perfectly, subtly showing off his muscled arms. He looked heavenly, like a bearded angel or Jesus himself.

Your heart was in your throat. You were always a sucker for blondes.

“I just want to feel… better?” you said cautiously, hoping you answered the question correctly.

“What does better mean to you?”

You exhaled sharply. “Less neurotic?”

“I see.”

You could tell he wasn’t satisfied with your answer. You decided to put forth a little effort.

“Less edgy? Maybe less…” You sighed. “I feel like I’m too aware of everything. It feels like everything is happening to me all at the same time. It’s overwhelming.”

“That sounds exhausting. Tell me about a time where you felt like that.”

His tone was warm though it lacked a certain sincerity. It was clear it was a practiced action. You hoped for an individualized approach, or maybe a psychiatrist that was better at acting. It was hard not to imagine yourself on an assembly line.

“Sometimes when I’m on the bus I’ll see people running to catch it, like just going as fast as they can. And then they miss it. Seeing that will ruin my day.”

“You must be a very empathetic person.”

You shook your head. “I just hate seeing someone try so hard and fail. It makes me uncomfortable. It’s so embarrassing for them.” You paused. “I guess what really bothers me is that I let something so stupid and insignificant affect me when it has nothing to do with me. I hate that I notice that stuff. I feel like I am noticing everything against my will.”

“You poor thing.”

“And sometimes I just want to explode. Like everything becomes too much and I want to burn it all down.”

He started writing stuff down in his notebook. You wanted to kick yourself for being so honest. It was almost like you were taking it seriously.

“But I’m still a good person, you know? I just think the world is constantly trying to terrorize me so I’m always alert? It’s hard to explain.”

He put down his notebook. “I never said you weren’t a good person. Do you have a boyfriend? A partner?”

He changed the subject with a smoothness you could only describe as magnificent. If any other man had pulled that on you, you would have walked out with zero hesitation. But Zeke transfixed you.

“No. I… I’m not really into all of that.”

“Not really into all of that? Interesting. Can I ask why?”

“It’s too much pressure. No one’s expectations ever line up.”

He chuckled. “People can be very opaque about what they’re seeking. Tinder’s the worst for it.”

It was hard to imagine him on any sort of dating app. He had the face of a guy that hunts his prey in the wild. You imagined him skulking around bars, watching his potential conquests drink themselves placid. It isn’t a traditional pursuit. He just watches and waits until they’re tired and slurring every sentence and struggling to use a rideshare app. That’s when he pounces.

“I’ve heard Tinder isn’t great,” you said, shaking off your weird fantasy.

“It’s only good for hookups.”

His frankness seemed unprofessional, but this was your first appointment with a psychiatrist so what the hell did you know. Maybe things were more casual, a little looser. Maybe discussing hookups was the norm. You fought off the urge to imagine what a night with him entailed, but it haunted you. Tangled sheets. His rough hands holding you down. Your knees pressing against your shoulders as he splits you in two.

You laughed nervously. “Yeah.”

“Sorry, let’s get back to business.” He adjusted his glasses, the frames gold and intricate. “It sounds like you may be experiencing hypervigilance.”

“Huh?”

“You’re always on the lookout for potential threats. You are essentially a prey animal.”

You were almost convinced he could read your mind. You never considered yourself prey, but it was clear that he did. Your toes curled. The discomfort was of an unusual flavor. Nauseating yet gratifying.

“How’s your sleep?

“Awful, I guess.”

“You guess,” he murmured. “Why is that?”

His questions felt endless, like the appointment was going to eat up the entirety of your life.

“I can’t shut my brain off.”

He sank down into his chair and spread his legs.

“How do you cope with that?”

“I really don’t… Unless weeping counts.”

“Do you feel… relieved when you cry?” he asked, staring intently at your lips.

“Kind of.”

“How often do you cry?”

He seemed too eager as he awaited your answer.

“I don’t keep track. Should I?”

“I doubt it would help,” he confessed. “What else do you do to relieve yourself?”

You glanced down at his crotch and noticed a bulge fighting against the thin fabric of his chinos. The air was sucked out of the room. His cock lured you in, demanding you to witness its growing glory.

“I don’t know,” you confessed. “Sorry.”

“I see. You seem a little combative,” he teased.

You weren’t being combative. You just couldn’t answer his questions thoughtfully on the spot. You weren’t prepared. You hadn’t planned on taking the appointment seriously. Time was needed to manifest something meaningful.

“You seem,”—you coughed nervously—“accusatory.”

He smirked. “Normally I’d refer someone like you to a therapist, but I can’t think of one equipped to deal with you.”

“I’m flattered.”

“Don’t be. After some consideration I’ve decided my counseling would be beneficial. I’m going to send you off with some homework.”

You assumed your days of homework were far behind you.

“Do you masturbate?”

“I do not feel comfortable answering that.”

“It’s a simple question. You either do or you don’t.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

“Just trust me.”

“Give me a reason.”

“Fine. We talked about what you do to relieve yourself, right?” You went to answer but he cut you off. “I think masturbating will provide immense relief.”

“Well… I do already,” you huffed. “So I don’t think it’s helping much.”

He looked at you like you were the dumbest creature he had ever seen.

“You need to masturbate with intention.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s hard to explain without me knowing what you’re doing wrong, which is why I need you to record yourself.”

A wet spot bloomed in your underwear.

“A voice recording is fine,” he acquiesced.

“Yeah, sure, okay. I’ll get right on that,” you said getting up.

You turned your back to him and quickly made your way to the door. The sound of his feet hitting the ground startled you as you went to turn the knob. Your brief moment of hesitation gave him enough time to grab you by the shoulder. The weight of his hand was disarming.

“I want to see you again next week, same time,” he said as he turned you around, your back against the door.

Your face was hot. “I’m not—”

“I promise I’m not taking advantage of you. My methods are proven to work,” he said, slipping his business card into your back pocket.

“So you pull this with all the girls?” you spat.

“The boys too.”

His conviction stirred up the whispers of ardor you tried to keep buried. His breath was clouded by a nauseating combination of espresso and tobacco, though the grime began to entice. You could feel the heat of his body against yours. You wanted to pull him closer so you could melt away into his warm embrace, but you couldn’t initiate something so brazen. You never had the guts for forwardness. And you liked to pretend you knew better.

“How progressive,” you finally choked out.

“I realize that this seems unorthodox and I don’t blame you for resisting.” He played with a piece of your hair. “If you value your mental health, you’ll trust me. Do I look like someone that would lead you astray?”

Kind of, you thought to yourself.

Your hesitation was palpable. He looked like he could practically taste it. He softened his gaze. It could have been a guilt trip, or just a half-assed attempt to assure you he had your best interests in mind.

“What if I don’t want to do it this way?”

“Then I might not be the right person to help you.”

You sighed. His methods did not seem trustworthy; they seemed like something ripped from a gross subreddit. HOT DOCTOR TRICKS DUMB BITCH PATIENT INTO PHONE SEX. You struggled to fully divorce the degradation from the situation. Being that dumb bitch patient was growing on you. It wove itself into your skin, becoming a part of you.

“Fine,” you replied. “But I’m not recording myself.”

“What if you call me?”

“In the middle of it?”

“Yes.”

“I…”

“C’mon. It’s not like I’m a predator. I’m your doctor.”

You wanted to trust him, but you thought about how easy it would be to use as leverage against you. A three hour deep dive video about revenge porn echoed through your mind. Opening yourself up to potential humiliation made you ill.

“I’ll call you. Maybe. I don’t know,” you mumbled.

He backed away. “Even if you don’t, try not to miss next week’s appointment. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried about you."

You laughed, but failed to say anything. You slipped out the door and tried to convince yourself to give up working on yourself. Maybe you could get by living in a state of constant hypervigilance.

That night you crawled into bed, vibrator in hand. A life filled with hypervigilance sounded atrocious.

You stared up at the ceiling, your toy vibrating against your thigh on the lowest setting. It felt late, but you couldn’t check the time. You made a conscious effort to put your phone far away from your bed. You decided to humor Zeke, but you weren’t allowing yourself to call him in the midst of touching yourself.

You sighed and gripped your vibrator. You spread your legs and began to graze the inside of your labia with the tip. Normally you’d pull up Twitter and scroll mindlessly until a video of a hairy guy violently fucking a girl half his size popped up, but that wasn’t an option. You tried to imagine someone crawling between your legs, eyes dripping with lust as they work their fingers between your folds. You kept having to start over because your fantasy was plagued with your bearded fixation. The constant interruptions did little to entice you.

You pressed your vibrator against your clit. You fiddled with the settings until it was a series of long, hard pulses. You rutted up against it trying to unwind and give into pleasure. But you kept fighting off visions of Zeke rolling his tongue against your cunt. You wondered what his beard would feel like between your thighs. You wanted to know if he kept his glasses on because it seemed like leaving them on would be hotter.

You let out a dejected “fuck.”

You rolled over onto your side and stared at your phone. You wanted it to invoke disgust, disdain, but all it did was lure you out of bed. You rifled through your hamper to find your jeans. You fished his card out of your pocket. It had a goofy head shot of him and the number for his office which frustrated you to no end. You flipped it over and saw another number hastily scrawled on the back. You sighed in relief and called him.

“Yeah?” he croaked.

“Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Oh. Hello.” His voice was still tinged with sleep, but much warmer. “You don’t need to apologize. I’m happy you called. How are things going?”

“They’re… not. I can’t get in the mood.”

“Hm. You didn’t mention struggling with that during your appointment.”

“I usually don’t,” you grumbled.

He laughed. “How are you struggling? Lead me through your process.”

You swallowed hard. “I, you know, try to… imagine something, but I keep thinking about things… I don’t, um, want to think about.”

“Like what? Violence? Your family? Animals?”

“What? No! A man! A human man.”

“Your father is a human man presumably.”

“I’m not thinking about my dad!”

“It’s more common than you think.”

You were starting to regret calling him. “It’s you. I can’t stop thinking about you.”

“Really?” The word dripped with amusement. “I can’t imagine why that’s a problem.”

“Well, it is.”

“Jeez, what did I ever do to you?” he snickered.

“I didn’t call you to get teased.”

He coughed nervously. “I’m sorry. I can’t help myself when I’m dealing with someone as precious as you, but that’s my problem. Not yours.”

“You think I’m cute?”

You weren’t surprised by this revelation, but wanted to draw out more praise.

“I do. You’re so adorable I can’t stand it.”

“You can’t stand it?”

“Uh huh,” he replied. “I hear that sweet voice of yours and all I can think about is fucking you so hard you cry. Would you like that?”

His words knocked the wind out of you. He said it so casually, like he was talking about the weather or what he ate for dinner.

“Or I could fuck you so hard you stop thinking. I’ll just have you be my adorable idiot I take care of.” He paused. “Come to think of it, that might help with the hypervigilance.”

He said it so thoughtfully it was almost kind of sweet. You were at a loss for words.

“Say something. Anything.”

“I would like that. Both. Uh. Both would be great.”

You smacked yourself in the forehead for being so unsexy.

“You sound nervous.”

“I am, but I think I like it.”

“Oh good,”—he sighed in relief—“because my cock is so hard right now and I’d feel like a pervert if you weren’t into this.”

“You’re still a pervert,” you said, putting your phone on speaker.

“Why don’t you tell this pervert what you’d want him to do to you?”

You flopped back down on your bed, resting your phone on your pillow, and patted around for your vibrator. You wracked your brain, desperate to think of something sufficiently sexy to say.

“I want,”—you hesitated—“I want you to ruin me. For other people. I want you to do something so disgusting to me that no one else will want to touch me.”

“Is that so?” he purred. “Tell me more, cutie pie.”

“I like it when it hurts.” You winced. You were never great at dirty talk, but Zeke seemed to enjoy it. You heard him let out a pleased groan. “A lot,” you added.

“Do you want me to hurt you, my little masochist?” he asked, voice catching in his throat.

“Yes,” you said as your fingers grazed your cunt.

You heard him try to stifle a moan before going silent.

“I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking this,” he finally said.

You held the vibrator against your clit. Each pulse permeated your body. “What?”

“Where do you live? We can worry about masturbating later. I need to fuck you.”

You sat up. “I don’t think that’s a great idea.”

“Sex brings people together. It’ll make it easier to open up to me.”

He was just finding ways to rationalize his desires. You never expected him to want you so desperately, especially if this was something he pulled often. That should have turned you off, but all it did was make you want him more. It was borderline idiotic to invite a strange man into your home. But there was no better feeling than the ecstasy of self destruction. You relished his red flags.

“Come on. I need to taste your pussy. I’m starving.”

“Alright. I’ll give you my address, but you have to send me a picture of your dick first.”

Zeke hung up immediately. A minute later he texted you a dick pick. You stared at the screen, bewitched by his cock. It was thick and long, almost beastly. The foreskin was pulled back revealing a pink tip, shiny with precum. You sent him your address without a second thought.

I live 10 mins away from you. How perfect, he replied.

Those ten minutes took their sweet time. You stood there, staring at the door. It was as if you were in a trance. You couldn’t wait for him to walk through your door and your heart sang when he finally knocked.

“Hi,” you said, eyes full of stars.

He smirked. “Hey, cutie pie.”

He wore a fitted t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that failed to hide his semi-hard cock. A cigarette dangled from his lips.

“I’m assuming I can’t smoke inside.”

“I, uh, I guess it’s fine.”

He dropped his cigarette on the ground and carefully extinguished the cherry with his foot. He patted your head as he glided through the door. He didn’t seem nervous at all. His motions were relaxed, fluid, effortless. Twinges of jealousy pricked your skin. You still wanted him, still elated that he was standing in your home. But your brain started moving a thousand miles a second.

Was your place sufficiently clean? Did he bring condoms? Did you want him to wear one? Was he using you? Did he need you as bad as he was acting? Were you just a convenience? Did your room smell nice? Should you light a candle? What if you lit a candle and something caught fire while you’re fucking? Would you stop? What if you kept fucking and burned to death? Isn’t there something sexy about letting it all turn to ash? Could this be why orgasms are called little deaths? Did you remember to take your birth control? What if he has lung cancer and then breathes cancer into your mouth?

“Cancer’s not contagious,” you whispered to yourself.

“What was that?”

“Nothing!” you chirped, quickly stripping yourself naked before following after him.

You found him undressing in your room. You could barely contain yourself when he pulled his shirt over his head. His body was toned, but soft. He caught you staring and smiled awkwardly. It quelled the thoughts racing around your brain.

He got on your bed, resting on his knees. His eyes went to your vibrator.

“Aw, you really were trying,” he teased and patted the bed. “Come here. Ass up.”

You wasted no time getting into position and arched your back. He slipped his fingers into your cunt all the way up to his knuckles. He slowly pulled them out and let out a delighted hum.

He leaned over you, his beard tickling your ear. “Fucking incredible,” he murmured. “You’re going to be the one that gets me in trouble. I know it.”

He slid his cock into your cunt. You dug your fingers into the mattress as he pushed it further in. He took his time, making sure you felt every single inch of him filling you. Normally penetration didn’t do much for you. All it did was stress you out. You’d tense up and render yourself unfuckable. But Zeke was different.

He cared about you.

He had concerns regarding your mental health.

His dick was huge.

He didn’t show you any mercy. Each thrust drove his cock against your cervix. Waves of pain washed over you, the anguish further obscuring your issues. The relief was a welcomed affliction. You dug your fingers deeper into the mattress and gritted your teeth.

“You said you like it when it hurts, right?”

“Ye—yeah,” you stuttered as he continued to plunge his cock in your cunt.

He slapped your ass. The pain shot through you and you moaned. Just as soon as the sting subsided, he slapped you again. It made your heart swell. You felt like it was creeping up your throat. Tears welled up in your eyes as your ecstatic moans swelled.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair, forcing you to crane your neck back.

“I knew you’d be a pretty crier.”

His praise made you ecstatic. “Make me cry more.”

He pushed your head down into the mattress and fucked you harder. You went limp. All you could do was whimper and let your orgasm overtake you. Your entire body was throbbing, singing with agony and exaltation. When he pulled out, his cock was slick with your fluids.

“Roll over.”

“Huh?”

He laughed and flipped you over with ease. You stared up at him in a daze. The world was still spinning around you. He started to stroke himself, his breathing labored and depraved.

“Close your eyes and open your mouth,” he choked out.

You shut your eyes and stuck out your tongue, eager to drink in every drop of his cum. His desperate groans made your clit throb. You were burning up, the anticipation coursing through your veins.

“Fuck!” he rasped as cum splattered on your face.

You opened your eyes as he rubbed the tip of his cock on your tongue. You felt so small in his shadow, his body looming over yours. He stared down at you, his expression a little cold, a little clinical.

“So how do you feel?” he asked, his voice hoarse.

“I… Fine, I guess.”

“You guess?”

“I don’t know. Good. I just—I can’t really talk right now.”

You were inarticulate in the shadow of your orgasm. Your brain existed elsewhere.

He frowned. “Alright. I have a lot of questions for you in the morning. I know you haven’t been in treatment long but I think we’re close to a breakthrough.”

[dragonpropaganda]

you should talk about your thoughts on rw fanon (looking with huge eyes)

Oh god, there's a lot of major misconceptions have concreted into fanon, mostly around ancient society and ascension.

First things first! Ascension is not death! They are entirely separate things treated entirely separately by the text of the game. I can see where the interpretation is coming from, but it doesn't really align with how the text treats either subject. Five Pebbles may want to remove the self destruction taboo, but from his reaction to the rot it's clear that he doesn't want to die. Conflation of ascension and death only comes up as an offhand possibility that pebbs makes on iterator 4chan, when he's going into the possibilities of scenarios that even the other sliverists are doubtful of! (let me make clear that I am not a sliverist by any means)

Ascension is more of talked about as a form of transcendence, yeah? A Bell, Eighteen Amber Beads talks about their sitution as being "To have grasped at the boundless infinites of the cosmic void…", not as them seeking an end to life.

The beta dialogue goes into more detail, mentioning the "infinities of time and space" and the "boundless fractal planes of spirit and reality...", though this dialogue was cut and it's hard to tell how much it reflects the concept as in the released game.

As for the cultural misconceptions... there's A Lot to talk about, but the first that comes to mind is the common conflation of the five natural urges and the christian concept of sin.

It is true that the negation of urges is mentioned by moon as an alternative method of ascension, but much of what we know about the culture of the people who the fandom calls the ancients (which makes discussion of the depths a mess but that's something for another post entirely) points towards the urges not being seen as shameful.

Even the first urge does not seem to be particularly scorned! Being a warrior is presented as a cause for bragging in the Shaded Citadel pearl, being comparable with being an artist and a fashion legend. The second urge, also does not seem to be suppressed. Multiple sources attribute some level of honour to parenthood! The aforementioned pearl also mentions Seventeen Axes, Fifteen Spoked Wheel as being a "Mother, Father and Spouse" without any hint of shamefulness. Nineteen Spades, Endless Reflections expresses pride about having progeny, mentioning it alongside their owned land and esteem among their peers.

After some peer review, an esteemed friend has told me to add a section on purposed organisms as well! This is not so much my area, so I might be a bit off on some things.

As moon says, the majority of purposed organisms were tubes in boxes, and that the primal fauna of the world are almost entirely extinct. A lot of the fandom seems to ignore the first part, and i can't say I blame them, but the evolution of the creatures is so much weirder than people think.

Concept art for the creatures has this interesting quality to it, where the organic parts of the creatures have an almost... melty quality to them.

In the concept art, the flesh appears as if it's almost defying the machinery to form an animal shape. It's as if it's conquering its own artificiality the way the foliage grows over the (stone, brick and concrete, not mostly metal as some think!) ruins.

Of course, it's hard to really tell how much of this reflects the finalised concept, most of the integration is much smoother in the game, in line with a seamless kind of biomechanical design. There was always an intention of biomechanical strangeness, as shown in this screenshot of the devlog before the term "slugcat" even existed!

That said, the melty nature of the concept art shows a level of wild change inherent the biomechanical nature of the creatures, as if they truly are the result of these "tubes in boxes" almost revolting against their own boxes.

and considering centipedes... some tubes may not have had boxes in the first place!

[cryptidghostgirl]

Destruction//Creation (Vox x Alastor's ex!Reader x Alastor)

Pairing: Technically Vox x Alastor but also a little Alastor x Reader

Description: Alastor refuses to let the past die and Y/n would rather pretend it never existed.

Warnings: Mild angst. Mentions of a past unhealthy relationship. I'll write some fluff of my own accord soon, I promise.

Word Count: 1,523

Master Lists:

Master Lists 

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

The party was supposed to be a fundraiser of sorts, designed to get the word about the Hazbin Hotel out into the world after their numerous previous failed attempts at doing so. Charlie had insisted all the overlords be there and even when Alastor had tried to leave the Vees off the guest list, she had caught him in the act and admonished him for it.

He cursed himself for not being quicker about it, more slick. Vox wasn't a threat but he was an annoyance and one Alastor would rather not deal with. The added threat of further dressing downs from Charlie should he fail to conduct himself in any less than perfectly pleasant in the mans presence was just the icing on the cake. Vox was screeching, he was haughty, he was overwhelmed by himself, he was-

Alastor's train of thought ran off, his breath caught in his throat. The man in questioned had entered, ready to join the fray, but that wasn't the distraction. No, the distraction came in the form of the charming little demon he was helping take off her heavy fur coat. Alastor watched as she smiled gracefully up at Vox, standing up on her tip toes and planting a tender kiss on his cheek.

How could he have forgotten? In the chaos of the past seven years, she had slipped from his mind. How had looking for her not have been the first thing he did when he was allowed any semblance of freedom? He could blame no one but himself. Now, she had fallen into the enemy's arms. Alastor bristled, seizing the opportunity of Vox bringing her coat over the to coat check Husk was running and using his shadows to appear at her side.

Y/n gasped as he materialized beside her, holding a hand to her chest in shock.

"Jesus... Al?"

Confusion marred her features as Alastor took her hand, whisking Y/n towards the dance floor.

"Hello, my dear." he smiled down at her as the music began.

It was a waltz, something by Shostakovich with all his wild rises and falls, all his nonconformity. The perfect soundtrack to their reunion, Alastor thought. Despite her shock, Y/n kept to the timing of the dance perfectly, never missing a step.

"But how... where..."

"I'm back now, darling. That is what matters."

Alastor dipped her and Y/n let out a sharp laugh. He assumed it was joy, it couldn't be anything other in his mind. She watched him in disbelief as he pulled her to her feet once again.

"I am so sorry."

She seemed only to be growing more confused by the moment. He reveled in her wonder as if it were the finest delicacy, a perfectly cooked steak. He had shown her the world again and again, he hoped never to stop having the opportunity.

"For what?"

Of course she would understand, wouldn't blame him, would know it wasn't his choice. She was always so unbelievably perfect like that, surprising him at every turn. Y/n fell into line without him ever even having to ask, it was just who she was. She didn't even have to try.

"For letting you fall into the arms of scum like that. He doesn't own your soul, does he?"

Y/n opened her mouth to speak but in his newfound joy, Alastor was unable to stop himself. How could he have forgotten? How could he have forgotten?

Her eyes, her smile, her sharp wit -- all of it. Y/n was and had always been, since the first day he had met her, the absolute center of his universe.

"It's no matter. That is easy enough to fix with a contract of our own."

"Alastor."

"Then everything will be all right, things will be just like the old days."

"Alastor."

He spun Y/n out, pulling her back in and catching her in his arms.

"Goodness, I've missed you."

"Alastor!" She pulled himself from his grip, panting.

They stood at the center of the dance floor, still among the whirling bodies. Y/n cleared her throat, smoothing the skirt of her dress. Alastor was thankful that the world around them seemed distracted for the moment, everyone too caught up in themselves and their own lives.

"My dear," he asked softly through gritted teeth, "what are you doing? You'll make an embarrassment of the pair of us."

"That's what I am trying to keep from happening."

"Whatever do you..."

Alastor trailed off, catching sight of Vox as he approached them, weaving in and out of the writhing mass of bodies. His eyes narrowed, his ears laid flat against his head.

Y/n leaned forward slightly, about to ask him what was wrong when she felt a hand on her shoulder. Looking up, a smile crept across her face at the sight of Vox.

"There you are, I've been looking everywhere for you."

Vox caught sight of Alastor now. Alastor expected the man to attack him, to boast, to do anything except what he did which was lean down to Y/n, his voice laced with concern.

"Are you alright? He didn't do anything to you, did he?"

Vox scanned her, looking for any visual signs of upset.

"No." Y/n patted Vox's hand reassuringly where it lay on her shoulder, "No I am fine, I promise."

"Alright, I am sorry. I just know..."

"I know. Thank you for remembering."

Alastor cleared his throat and Vox straightened as he and Y/n turned to face him.

"I have to ask you to leave my girlfriend alone." Vox stated.

His civility sparked something in Alastor, a familiar hunger.

"Your girlfriend?"

Before he could say another word, Y/n cut him off. She took a step forward as she spoke, Vox's hand falling from her shoulder.

"Yes, that is what I have been trying to tell you but you wouldn't let me get a word in edgewise, you never do."

"But..."

Alastor was completely at a loss for words, a rare occasion. His eyes flicked back and forth between Y/n and Vox.

"What can he give you that I couldn't? What can that bucket of bolts do better than me? I wasn't right, was I? Did you sell him your soul? I know I was gone but how foolish can you be, Y/n?"

She stiffened at the sound of her name on his lips.

"He lets me breathe, Alastor!" Y/n threw her arms in the air, adding emphasis to her words, "He lets me breathe. You never did that. With you, what you said went and I had to follow perfectly, I had to..."

She took a deep breath, her hands balled into fists. Vox took a step forward, they shared a look of reassurance.

"I was never happy with you." Y/n admitted, "I am with Vox. He is a good man, he treats me well, he listens, he takes me as I am."

"And I didn't?"

"No! No, you didn't. You wanted me blood hungry and ravaged, you wanted me as destroyer but that is not who I am. It never was."

Decisively, Y/n turned to Vox, his hand slipping gently into hers. Alastor watched in a mixture of shock and horror, unable to act.

"Do you want to go get a drink?"

"That sounds like a good idea. I think I saw Velvette already over by the bar."

"Of course." Y/n smiled.

The pair's locked hands turned into locked arms. Things had been good, he had thought they had been perfect. He had seen Y/n as the other piece of himself, the extension of the whole.

"I don't understand."

Y/n and Vox froze, their backs to him. With a soft pat to Vox's arm, Y/n turned to Alastor, her expression firm.

"I don't... I thought you loved me."

He was helpless, lost and floating. Alastor's mind ran wild, trying to regain any semblance of control over the situation. There was none to be found.

"I did." Y/n nodded sadly, "For a long time. I didn't know any better, I didn't know what love had the potential to be."

A moment of silence, a heartbeat.

"And he gives you that potential."

Y/n looked at Vox over her shoulder. When she turned back to Alastor, she was smiling. Alastor had never seen her smile like that before.

"He does." she confirmed.

"Come on, sunshine." Vox hummed softly from behind her, a hand outstretched, "Let's go get that drink."

Eagerly, Y/n ran up to him, their fingers entwining once again. Just as they were about to leave Alastor, standing alone on the dance floor, Y/n looked back at him. A wild hope flashed in his heart that was dashed when he was the conflict in her eyes.

"It was nice seeing you. I am glad you're alright."

"You too." his voice was weak, blurred. There was nothing he could do to stop it from being that way.

"I hope... this hotel seems good for you. I hope it works out the way you want it to."

---

Tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet 

@reader3

[seat-safety-switch]

I love my fireworks, say all my neighbours as they cram a flimsy plastic tube full of low-yield explosives. Surely everyone in my community will also appreciate them. If not, they are some kind of Grumpy Gus and are not invited to the block party cookout. Friends, I can tell you this right now: I am not going to that barbecue.

As you might have imagined, the residents of my area of the world like to shoot off a bunch of Roman candles when they feel like it. Sure, fireworks are fun and all, but I feel like if you're burning three or four hundred dollars worth of illegal noise-and-light generators every couple of weeks, you might as well just take up smoking again.

At first, it was a lot of fun. Very festive. It helped the community spirit, even if all the dogs were constantly terrified and kept trying to chew through a fence to escape. Ol' Ray down the block lost a finger trying to grab onto what he called a "Winky Sprinkler," though, and then everything changed.

Once there was a scent of blood in the air, it became a competition. Ray needed to "make it worth" his sacrifice, so he started amping up his production. Bigger shows. Coordinated by electronics. More frequently. This drew the ire of another rich asshole (Bob Winsome, who used to own the Ford dealership) with poor impulse disorder, and soon the two of them were getting up to a night-time artillery show that the police were not equipped to stop, mostly because they were at the doughnut store or trying to knock over a casino for some quick cash in the retirement fund at the time.

Nearly every night became a terror of pop-pop-pop. although I am very good at ignoring troublesome noises, those noises are usually generated by my own car while I'm driving them. Not constantly happening while I'm trying to focus on my usual problems: things like "why is this bolt stripped," and "where did this pile of wires I just cut through go to?"

As the Constitution says, though: "fuck 'em if they can't take a joke." After one particularly rough night of having exploding munitions going off directly over my head while I was trying to find the origin of some faint valve clatter, I decided to respond in kind. A friend of mine, who will be called Millie Teri for reasons that are about to become clear, loaned me a couple pieces from her private collection. I had myself a patriotic parade that night. Courtesy, of course, of some army bases didn't really pay too close attention to what they listed on eBay. That's what they call "taxpayer value," even if I did have to technically buy the low-shrapnel M107 flash shells twice.

I had expected to draw a truce after demonstrating my superior firepower, much like how French tourists can shut down any discussion of cheese. After bombarding both rich pricks' homes, however, it soon became apparent that the dickheads blamed each other for the massive destruction wrought on their properties, and refused to believe that a belligerent third party could have done such a thing to them just for "several months of sleepless nights courtesy of constant 120dB outside noise."

After the mutually-assured destruction finished, though, I never saw or heard another fireworks display from Ol' Ray or Bob Winsome. If they ever find an identifiable chunk of either of their bodies, we'll probably have a pretty cool tribute at the funeral using up whatever unexploded fireworks they have still left in the scorched remnants of their family homes.

[multiisketch]

Multi's Ramblings: A Warped Perspective

Given the attention my Mini-Comic has gotten and the fact that I've had people asking about a full AU and such, I thought I would collect my thoughts on it here.

As of right now, I don't have plans to make an extensive comic for A Warped Perspective as I am focused on Sonic Boom: Revisited currently (please check it out if you haven't! I plan to play around with Sonic's morality and transformations in that as well!) but will write and draw stuff for Warped as I have the inclination to do so.

This is going to be a long one, so I will be placing it all under the cut!

The Personality of Fleetway Super Sonic

I like to imagine if Fleetway Super Sonic ever did come to the mainline comics, he'd be a sort of... manifestation and release of Sonic's normally tempered rage. If Sonic is the wind, then Fleetway is a hurricane of unchallengeable and intense emotion. Even the smallest infraction on his person would result in an explosive response. He's not necessarily evil at first. After all, he's still Sonic. He still desires the same things, he's just incapable of gauging how severe his actions are.

For example:

Sonic likes destroying Badniks. He likes the rush fighting gives him, but he doesn't let himself relish in the destruction or defeat. He reaches down and offers his hand at the first sign of reluctance. Fleetway doesn't have the luxury of restraint. He's too blinded by his anger. He'd fight a rival like Knuckles or Shadow to the brink of death simply for standing in his way.

Sonic likes making jokes at the expense of his foes and rivals. He chuckles when he manages to throw someone off balance, but he's not cruel. It's all in good fun. Fleetway finds it all hysterical. The more appalled they look the better. He's seeking the same high, but is unable to get it without pushing boundaries well beyond their limit.

Fleetway would be Sonic's entire personality and morality weaponized until it looses all sense and becomes madness.

Eggman's 9th symphony

I think back to that line in IDW Issue #50 where Sonic says something to the effect of, "That's the problem with giving people a choice. You can't stop them from making the wrong ones." This line always stuck out to me because it almost seems like a prelude to a potential breaking point for Sonic. While Issue #50 comes long after the warp topaz is dealt with (for the most part), I think it makes for an interesting moral quandary to touch on with Fleetway. Eggman poisoned the world with the Metal Virus and some part of Sonic blames himself for that. Shadow and Espio's words did not help.

Now... Sonic, normally, is not one to let that type of talk keep him down for long. He always keeps moving. Live and Learn. But even as he moves on some part of him must still linger on what he could have done differently.

As Fleetway, Sonic's emotional dissonance is heightened. That ounce of doubt he has in his actions grows out of control along with all his other emotions. He's tired of giving people a choice only for them to make the wrong ones. And now? Now they don't get a choice. If they want to resist--if they want to stand in his way--FINE. But he's not holding back, anymore. For anyone. And he's gonna enjoy it.

How Does This Fit into IDW?

AKA the AU part

Note: this is just a general overview of what I personally think would be interesting to see. Feel free to speculate further!

Remember issue #30-32? So, take that plot, but instead of Sonic incidentally warping into Blaze's dimension with amnesia, he crashes back onto his planet in the middle of nowhere (some nice lake area). Strangely, he's still in his super form, but the Chaos Emeralds are nowhere to be found. Instead, the Warp Topaz, imbued with chaos energy has become entangled with Sonic's form. This would not be visibly on his person, but its energy effects are evident in his glowey bits and the red rings around Sonic's eyes (tbh I didn't think about the design connections between Fleetway and the Warp Topaz until just now, but it's weirdly there). Imagine how the Shadow Crystal in The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess sinks into Link. That's the imagery I've got in my head as Sonic lays in his self-made crater, unconscious. Maybe I'll draw this initial crash eventually, idk.

I think it would be cool for Dr. Starline to find him. At first, Sonic wouldn't remember anything, falling back on the original amnesia plot. Except something about his behavior is noticeably different. He's more... prone to his negative emotions and extremely skittish for the normally laid back hedgehog. His... awareness is dialed up to 11.

Starline would take care of him for a few days to analyze the effects the Warp Topaz is having on him. He would conclude that the Warp Topaz is somehow managing to maintain Sonic's super form through latent Chaos Energy while granting Sonic the abilities of the Topaz itself. This means Sonic can create portals to warp around at will. However, it has also effected Sonic's personality, intensifying all his worse aspects. Satisfied with this version of Sonic, Starline would try to manipulate him emotionally against Eggman, conveniently playing himself out to be a victim as he explains the Metal Virus, the Zeti rampage, and all the harm Eggman caused.

But... Sonic's not stupid, he's just got amnesia. As soon as he realizes Starline is conveniently leaving out his own involvement, it's game over. He doesn't kill Starline--he says it wouldn't be any fun if he did--but he does leave him with a crippled hand before rushing out to find Eggman. Because at the end of the day he's still Sonic. He still wants to stop bad people.

From there, Sonic would tear through cities looking for Eggman, calling the attention of his friends. They'd track him down. Try to talk him; remind him of who he really is. And, oh, yes, he'd remember, eventually. He'd remember everything. There'd be a soft moment for that unescapable second--a chance. But, in the end, it doesn't change anything. And that's where the real pain is. You see, he's had time to think now. He realizes why he's been so angry even without his memories. And it's because Espio and Shadow were right. He was being too soft. Not just on Eggman, but on everyone. He can see it all now though the Warp Topaz's power. The pain and suffering Eggman's caused the world over. And not just Eggman, but the everyday people. The vagabonds like Rough and Tumble or the Zeti. All the evil in the world that just eats at his planet like its nothing but a tool to be used up. He's ashamed of how blinded he was to it all. And he can fix it, now. Nobody will disturb their peace again. They won't be allowed too.

But...

But now his friends are telling him his clarity is blindness. That everyone deserves to be able to make choices for themselves. Even if they're wrong because how else are we supposed to grow and learn?

And this angers him. His hands shake. His teeth grind. They're saying this isn't him. That Sonic wouldn't do this. Their Sonic. They think he needs to be stopped. Whatever he is.

Well, who needs them? Who needs anyone? They deserve to be stepped on if that's what they think. He's so powerful now. They can see it. Are they scared? Are they scared of him? Are they all scared? They should be. They should be terrified of what he could do. Because it's frightening. It's... It's...

Is he scared, too?

Eggman attacks with his Omega Robot. Sonic rips through it like it's nothing.

Eggman's collar is wrapped tightly around his fist. He's so close to ending it all.

But... Oh man. Why is he hesitating?

Because Eggman's not scared. He just looks... disappointed?

And Sonic's laughing now. He's laughing like a madman. He can't do it. Why can't he do it? What is this? What is this?

Sonic doubles over in pain. His chest is hurting. The Warp Topaz. It wasn't built for this. The Chaos Energy fueling it is quickly beginning to dissipate. It's going to kill him. It's killing everyone. He's...

Sonic plunges his hand into his chest. It phases through, gripping the Warp Topaz inside of him. Screaming, he pulls it out.

It clatters on the pavement as Sonic slumps over. His blue hue returns. His friends gather around, checking him over. Eggman watches from a far.

That would be the end of it, right? The hurricane. It's dissipated. Sonic's... okay. Shaken, but okay. He can think straight. He can--

We're so pathetic, you know that?

There's a voice--right in Sonic's head.

The power to right all that's wrong with the world, to stop Eggman once and for all and what do you do with it? You throw it away! Just to feel better about yourself!

You might be in control, now, but next time?

Next time, I won't let you stop us.

The voice cackles as it fades with the flow of the wind. Everyone else thinks its over now because the Warp Topaz and Sonic are separated. But Sonic knows it's power created a wound inside his heart. Who know what could tear it open, again?

Couldn't be when Sonic almost gets electrocuted to death or when there's a bunch of chaos fueled crystalline structures causing havoc, could it? :)

ANYHOO

That's what I got for yah! I've been agonizing over posting this for a while, so I hope it makes sense.

Thanks for reading this far, too! I don't exactly know what to call this AU-thingy yet. If anyone has any ideas please let me know in the comments! I read every single one I get! And if you have any further questions about it, my ask box is open!

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Galileo Galilei Main Story

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors and inaccuracies.

Spoilers ahead. Not proofread.

His eyelids slowly opened, revealing his amethyst eyes.

His gaze wandered for a while, then he tilted his head and looked at me.

Galileo: "You..."

Mitsuki: "You've regained consciousness! Thank goodness, I'm so glad."

Tears flowed endlessly, wetting Galileo's fingers resting on my cheek.

He moved his fingers awkwardly to try to wipe my tears.

Galileo: "You've been by my side all this time?"

I nodded repeatedly, and he lowered his eyes.

Galileo: "I had a dream."

Mitsuki: "A dream?"

Galileo: "A very happy dream. I was with my family and friends."

Galileo: "But for some reason, I felt like I was forgetting something."

Galileo: "Then your voice woke me up."

(My voice?)

He looked at me again and gently narrowed his eyes.

Then,

Galileo: "Thank you, Mitsuki."

His smile was endlessly kind, without a hint of any shadow or doubt.

After regaining his composure, he sat up and looked outside the window, squinting against the light.

Galileo: "The progenitor within me has vanished, hasn't it?"

Mitsuki: "Yes, thanks to you risking your life."

Drake's knife had even obliterated the progenitor's soul.

Galileo himself was severely weakened and had been in a coma until now.

(It's going to be okay now, right?)

Mitsuki: "It'll take some time for your body to recover, but I'm sure you'll be back to your old self soon."

Galileo: "No, my body probably won't last long."

(What?)

His words made my mind go blank.

Galileo: "I know myself better than anyone. This body is no longer the same as it used to be."

Galileo: "The body that was seized by the progenitor and corrupted by miasma likely won't return to its original state. It will probably decay soon."

(That can't be.)

Galileo: "It might be a punishment for the foolish dhampir who desired the destruction of this world."

He looked at his own hand and spoke with extreme calmness.

He seemed to have accepted his fate.

Mitsuki: "You don't know that yet."

Galileo: "........"

Mitsuki: "It's too early to give up! I don't want to give up on your life."

All I could do was speak hopeful words without any basis, and my voice trembled.

He sighed softly.

Galileo: "You were like that back then too."

Mitsuki: "Back then?"

Galileo: "When my body was taken over by the progenitor."

------------Flashback-----------

Mitsuki: "No matter how powerless I am, even if I have to face the world alone, I will protect him!"

---------Flashback Ends--------

Galileo: "You didn't give up and kept calling out to me."

(He remembered.)

Galileo: "The me that should have disappeared back then was moved by your voice, and now I'm alive."

I could sense that he was trying to face me sincerely.

Galileo: "You always shake me with your straightforward words and eyes seeking the truth."

Galileo: "I was frustrated with you for that. Moreover, I blamed you for my own past powerlessness."

Galileo: "I was probably afraid that you would see through the truth I was avoiding."

The truth he had been averting his eyes from was surely the powerlessness that tormented him, and perhaps his former self that purely wished for peace.

(He had to discard those unnecessary feelings to rush towards destruction.)

Galileo: "But you were not powerless."

His voice held a faint strength.

Galileo: "Unlike me, who despaired in my powerlessness and clung to strength to end everything, you continued to reach out to people, and you even saved me."

Galileo: "Even when you fell into sadness, you didn't give up and found a star called hope. That's the real you."

His gentle smile made my heart flutter.

(That's how he saw me.)

All the various events that had happened between us flashed through my mind.

There were many painful and sad moments, but it felt like all of them were connected to this moment.

(To understand you and come to this understanding.)

As my emotions welled up, I took his cold hand and placed a paper crane I had found in a drawer on it.

Galileo: "This is..."

Galileo: "You found it."

Mitsuki: "Yes. I became who I am now thanks to you."

(Because you saved my life and taught me the courage to help others.)

Mitsuki: "Galileo, please let me say this again."

Mitsuki: "I love you."

Galileo: "........."

Mitsuki: "I know I've hurt your heart many times, and I'm not asking you to feel the same way, but please allow me to stay by your side."

The wind whispered through the trees outside the window, enhancing our silence.

He eventually spoke up.

Galileo: "I don't know how long my body will last, so I might just waste your time."

Galileo: "Even so, do you still choose to stay by my side?"

His eyes, reflecting his heart, wavered slightly as he asked.

Mitsuki: "Yes. I want to be with you forever."

(Even if the day comes when your body withers away, I will support you so you can at least find happiness.)

I answered with all my heart, and he reached out and touched my cheek.

Galileo: "You always stir my heart."

Galileo: "Even when I lashed out at you, you still faced me head-on."

Galileo: "I couldn't ignore your existence anymore."

His voice, squeezed out, seemed to reveal his innermost feelings.

Galileo: "I didn't understand why I couldn't control myself, but now I've found the answer."

His eyes, always seeking the truth, reflected me.

Galileo: "Mitsuki, I can only call this feeling I have for you love."

(Love.)

Something warm surged from deep within my chest, making me unable to speak.

Still gazing into each other's eyes, Galileo's hand moved from my cheek to the back of my head.

He gently pulled me closer, and I leaned toward the bed.

As the distance between us disappeared, our lips gently met, and the midday moon witnessed our tender kiss.

Then, some time passed.

Mitsuki: "Wow, it's beautiful!"

After Galileo started feeling better, we went stargazing, just as we had done before.

Sidereus: "Woof! Woof!"

Mitsuki: "Hehe, Sidereus is in a good mood too."

Galileo: "Yeah. We can see the North Star very clearly tonight."

Following his gaze, I found a bright star near the Big Dipper and felt a sudden wave of nostalgia.

Mitsuki: "They say that travelers and sailors in the past used the North Star as their guide."

Mitsuki: "I wonder if Drake is looking at it somewhere in the world right now."

Since then, Drake has used the door to the hideout to embark on a journey.

A journey through time and space, beyond countries and eras.

(I don't know if he will ever come back, but...)

Maybe this is Drake's way of ending their journey.

Even though I understand that, I still sometimes feel lonely without him around.

Galileo: "I'm sure Drake is looking up at the stars right now."

Galileo: "Knowing him, he'd find a way to enjoy life no matter where he is."

Mitsuki: "That's true."

His voice was so certain that I could almost picture Drake looking up at the stars from his ship.

(Even if we're apart, we are all connected by this vast starry sky.)

As I smiled at that thought一

Galileo: "By the way..."

Galileo: "You're thinking about another man while stargazing with me."

Mitsuki: "What!? No, that's not it. I was thinking about the two of you!"

(Wait, does that mean...?)

Mitsuki: "Are you jealous?"

Galileo: "..........."

(Have I said too much again? But...)

Even under his sharp gaze, I couldn't stop the joy that was welling up inside me.

Galileo: "..........."

As I gazed at him with anticipation, his face drew closer.

Mitsuki: "Nn…"

Then he gently placed a kiss on my lips.

Galileo: "Your eyes should only reflect me."

Mitsuki: "----!"

In his amethyst-like eyes, I was the only one reflected.

Mitsuki: "You're the only one I had eyes for from the very beginning."

(Since the moment I met you in that garden, and ever since you saved my life.)

At my confession, he blinked slightly in surprise and smiled.

That night一

Mitsuki: "Nn... ah."

Upon returning to his room, he gently pushed me onto the bed and claimed my lips.

Galileo sat up momentarily and discarded his cloak.

Galileo: "If it gets too much, tell me."

Mitsuki: "I'm fine. But you—"

Galileo: "I'm not so weak that I can't hold you."

Galileo: "And if my life could end at any time, I want to feel you as much as possible while I can."

Mitsuki: "----!"

His eyes, filled with a burning desire, deeply moved me.

(Being loved feels so wonderful yet so heartbreaking.)

(I don't know how much time he has left.)

But for now, I just wanted to fulfill his wish, so I wrapped my arms around him.

Mitsuki: "Feel me. I'll give you all of me."

Galileo: "Let me love you."

He whispered in my ear, then leaned over me.

Galileo: "Haah, Mitsuki."

Our bare skin touched the sheets.

Every time his hand glided over my skin, the delicate movements increased the heat between us, making me gasp.

Galileo: "Such a sweet voice. It seems you're very sensitive."

(It feels like he's observing me.)

(Even though it's embarrassing, I don't want to hide.)

We laid everything bare, and eventually, we looked into each other's eyes.

Galileo: "I love you, Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "I love you too."

Immediately after whispering our love, the heightened passion connected us.

His sweaty look and silver-white hair swaying made him look incredibly hot.

As our bodies melted into each other, he let out a pained sigh.

Galileo: "Haa..."

He leaned close to my neck, trying to keep something in.

(Could it be...?)

Mitsuki: "Is it the bloodlust?"

When I asked, he suddenly lifted his head.

Galileo: "I'm sorry. I once bit you against your will."

Galileo: "I'm sure it's a memory you'd rather erase."

(He was enduring it for my sake.)

Feeling touched by his thoughtfulness, I reached out to touch his cheek.

Mitsuki: "Tell me your true feelings."

After a moment of hesitation, he kissed my hand and whispered.

Galileo: "Mitsuki, I want you so badly."

Galileo: "Can I bite you?"

(.......)

Realizing that love could heighten the bloodlust just made me even happier.

Mitsuki: "Don't hold back; bite me."

Mitsuki: "Let me take in all of you, your love, and your fangs."

As I tilted my neck invitingly, a predatory light flashed in his eyes.

Mitsuki: "Nn... ahh..."

After a bit of pain, it turned into pure pleasure and bliss.

Galileo: "Ah, Mitsuki, I love you."

(I hope this heat and love will never fade away.)

Feeling his fangs, our hearts beating together, and the way we felt connected, I wanted this moment to go on forever.

After our deep exchange of emotions, we made a decision.

(We've said our goodbyes to everyone at the mansion.)

(Is this the end of our time here?)

Today, we were leaving this place.

We packed our belongings, and the last place we visited was一

Mitsuki: "Are you sure about this?"

Galileo: "Yeah. I should've done this sooner."

He looked out at the sunlit garden as if burning the image into his memory.

Then, quietly, he closed his eyes for a moment.

Galileo: "My brethren, for now, just rest in peace."

He released a lantern with a lit candle into the garden.

In an instant, the fire spread to the Blanc flowers, engulfing the pure white and crimson blooms in flames.

(Everything is burning away.)

As the petals ignited and ascended with the sparks of fire, my heart ached at the sight, and his embrace tightened around me.

Galileo: ".........."

The color of the flames flickered in his purple eyes.

(I wonder what he's thinking now.)

Is he regretting not being able to avenge the dhampir's grievances?

(But the dhampirs resting here will surely not blame him.)

I gently squeezed his hand as if to convey that.

(And he chose to do this to sever the sorrow rooted in this garden.)

To start walking again from here.

Galileo: "Let's go, Mitsuki."

Mitsuki: "Yes."

Turning our backs to the raging flames, I spoke to him beside me.

Mitsuki: "Galileo."

Galileo: "What is it?"

Mitsuki: "I’ll continue to search for a world where everyone, regardless of their race, can join hands and a future where you can truly smile."

(Even if the time left is short.)

(I want to continue seeking hope by your side.)

That is what I can do now, after meeting you and witnessing everything.

Galileo: "Mitsuki."

Galileo turned to face me, his eyes softening gently.

Galileo: "Thank you."

Galileo: "I love you. Your love is my truth, and you're my final star, named Hope."

Our intertwined destinies began through a door that transcends time.

Through miraculous encounters and many sorrows, what I have arrived at is the truth of my feelings for you.

Previous Part ╎ Masterlist ╎ Dramatic End

[nqmonarch]

Red Flags in HSR Characters

I have a problem of simping for the most red flagged characters except I can't handle red flags. Like violence makes me nope the fuck out of any relationship, I am so scared of getting hurt in any way, shape, or form. In real life I'm fucking terrified of being manipulated into being dependent on someone because I've experienced that shit and it isn't fun. Hate being insulted, degraded, all of that.

But the red flagged characters are just too cool???

Like Dr. Ratio, sure he's a pompous shit and would probably end up degrading you which I hate but he's so cool?! So I need to find some way to make him into this weird yellow flag without making myself into some super genius because no way is that gonna happen.

So instead put him in like a tutor AU, he's teaching you and when you get something wrong he gives you such a side ways insult. Like it takes a minute to realize it's an insult, it's worded in such a creative peculiar way. The second it registers you begin doing ten times worse on every question. It doesn't take long for him to realize that being told you're shit isn't inspiring to everyone. So he takes a... kinder approach. He's still a hard ass and strict but he's actively trying to do better and you can tell, when he starts a sentence suddenly stops and then brings that sentence in a completely different direction. You both end up learning. You end up learning the material and he ends up learning how to be somewhat better at dealing with people whose ideal day isn't being insulted.

Then there's the aeons. i simp for all of them, like how can you not??? Especially Nanook (using he/him pronouns for Nanook), Yaoshi, IX, and Aha. Now first off IX isn't a red flag IX is a lovely little black hole who I will defend with my life. But the other three??? They're as red as a stop sign.

Like sure, Nanook would probably destroy you the first chance he gets. Maybe Nanook is the destruction because he wants to be destroyed. I, I don't know man. Like he's so beautiful but how the hell do you even write romance with him? That isn't just like destroying the love interest.

Maybe he's had an insatiable urge to destroy everything ever since the dawn of his existence and he can't remember why. He's always been filled with rage, hatred, toward everything that's existed. Then he sees you and it all comes rushing back toward him. Your death, the hole it filled, the only thing that could really be blamed was the universe. It was everyone and everything's fault. So he would destroy it all to protect you.

Still a red flag but man I'm trying my best, no matter what Nanook will always be a red flag. Yaoshi on the other hand... surely there's a way I can make Yaoshi into a yellow flag after all they just want to help.

Yaoshi who would save your entire planet, heal every individual part of the ecosystem and every person, just to see you smile. They would ask nothing in return and instead remain by your side, enjoying the beautiful of the world. Then the mara strikes, people begin to lose their minds and themselves and you're left to beg them for a way to reverse this. But this is the price of life.

Yaoshi assures you that this is natural but they still watch on in horror as you inevitably succumb to the mara as well. Only then do they try to figure out how to fix it.

The further I get the more hopeless I become. Then there's Aha...

They probably found you entertaining at first, a human full of surprises and excitement, someone that could survive any trial. Then you grew on them a bit more and they found himself becoming attached. Aha wasn't supposed to be attached but this of course just makes an opportunity for more entertainment! Now they're actually invested and can experience the nail biting tension of all this drama!

Just another form of entertainment, it'll be a shame when you're gone though.

Then there's all the other beautiful red flags Ruan Mei, Jing Liu, Blade, Luocha, and Aventurine and Sunday seem like red flags as well even though they're not out. Like if bad to date why do I want to date?

Their red flags are a part of them and it's hard to work around it, so sometimes you just gotta embrace it. Life's rough man. In the end it's my fault for liking red flags. I'll just stick to Jing Yuan for now, peak husband material.

[cheese-water]

Charlie is right.

Bolas Rojos won today. They got their revenge after yesterday’s beating. They’ve proven themselves as real competitors. They have literally won the battle today.

But they themselves have orchestrated the war.

Peace is no longer an option. All bridges have been burned for the red team. Any sympathy or pity from the other groups was gone as soon as they cemented first place. And even worse, there were many witnesses to their carnage. Primarily ElQuackity on green, who faced them head-on (so much for blaming the base raid on Bad), but Pol and Tina on blue saw those same chat messages. Like Charlie said, in situations like these, people will never forget. These are how grudges are formed, how small decisions lead to larger repercussions, and how consequences end up mattering after all is said and done.

The Bolas can’t go back now. They’ve made their bed of destruction and warfare, and now they have to lie in it. While the actions of the others may have led them down this path, do not get me wrong. They were not backed into a corner. There are many opportunities to do something different. For instance, the trader village or going full-on cult mode were genuinely viable options. Due to the lack of players on today and the players that were online’s motivation for the competition visibly waning, the red team could have easily isolated them each and indoctrinated them into the group.

To be honest, the Reds’ resistance to joining general vc only furthered their “us against the world” and “peace was never an option” mentality. Disregarding everything pre-purgatory, the only person who actually has positive relationships with the others is Foolish, who made an effort to interact outside of the team (1v1 with Étoiles, chatting with Tina and BBH, etc.). Unlike his teammates, Foolish really has set himself up well for the future, be it for trading, secret alliances, or if, for whatever reason, teams switch. And in games like these, that's how you gain credibility; that’s how you end up being pitied; that's how you survive.

And today, guess who won in that regard? The team in last place, SoulFire. Which thank god they did, because steamrolling the competition two days in a row is how you get majorly targeted. Their lack of progress (which was definitely unintentional lmao), the gen vc basically being BadBoyHalo’s “apology” tour for a bit (which again, very unintentionally focused the blame off of the six kills from their equally bloodthirsty leader), but most importantly, keeping Étoiles, the skilled and need I mention literal leader of the enemy team, company when his team was gone has more impact than even they might not realize. I mean, talk about damage control lol. Like going into Day 3, my bets on who’s group will form an alliance first are solely on green and blue.

Anyway, I am happy not only about the Reds getting the win they rightly deserve but also about the fact that they are aware of what they are doing. The moves they have and will make are purposeful, self-aware of their own “let’s all be peaceful” hypocrisy.

On Day 1, Blue and Green got to be the bad guys.

On Day 2, Charlie can’t help but question his own morality while doing the same terrible things that sent him down this spiral to ElQuackity tonight.

But I guess it's the burden that first place has to bear. I’m sure they’ll all get used to it eventually :)

[reareaotaku]

how would boris act if you were hurt????

Oh, I love this

Taglist: @fxchild

He's probably the reason you're hurt

Probably convinced you to do something extremely stupid and that's how you ended up hurt

He laughed at your pain, before realizing you were really hurt. Like bad

He feels pretty guilty. ["I can't help but I kind of feel a little bit responsible."]

He's destructive, so he doesn't know how to take care of you

You're lucky he really likes you, because anyone else he would have left bleeding out without a care in the world. Let them figure it out on their own

But for you he'll go find a first aid kit or something [Probably steals it]

Runs as far as possible to avoid being caught

"Here," He tosses the first aid kit towards you, not knowing what to do with it

You stare up at him, blood on your hands as you try and cover your wounds. You flip out your hands to show him they're covered in blood and he would have to do it

He's frustrated, but he kind of owes you

"Here."

You look up towards the voice, only to be shocked when a first aid kit hits you. "What the fuck?" You angrily ask, your hands still covering your battered, bleeding legs.

"I got you a first aid kit. Isn't that what you wanted?"

"I WANTED to not be bleeding a gallon of blood."

"You're overexaggerating," He rolls his eyes, before looking away from you.

You frown, before grabbing his leg, causing not only for him to yelp when feeling the wet blood, but also to leave a blood print on his lower thigh.

"Oh, you bitch! I was being nice and this is how you treat me!?"

"You pushed me into a group of cacti!"

"I didn't push you. Besides, it was an accident, and you didn't land in the cacti; Most of your body hit the concrete."

"God, what is wrong with you? Why are you so.... destructive?"

He frowns at your words, before looking at the ground. He truly hadn't meant to hurt you, but you were right. Every time you guys hung out, you always ended up hurt and then your father would yell at you.

"I'm sorry."

Your ears perked up at the whispered words. You shook your head, before looking at him, thinking you heard him wrong because there was no way he apologized. "What?"

"I said, I'm sorry. You're right. I am destructive and every time we hang out, you always end up hurt."

You look down at your battered knees and then at the first aid kit. "Well, it's not all your fault. I am also to blame for my own pain. Besides, I couldn't imagine my life any different. Especially without you."

He smiles, before kneeing down and opening the first aid kit, "Yeah me too. Me too."