#obsessed with the world and characters) but there’s no way either of them could possibly hope to compete with the EXPERIENCE that is htn

[camgoloud]

i’m pretty sure this was done on the tlt subreddit once before but i haven’t seen it here and i’m curious to know tumblr’s opinions on the topic! personally i like the second two much more than the first—gtn didn’t really grab me that much and i wouldn’t have even called myself part of the fandom until i decided i might as well give htn a go and immediately got sucked in—but i’m guessing that most people’s experience is different, since the first book seems like the most popular based on the impressions i’ve gotten. also feel free to put in tags where you’d rank the short stories (as yet unsent and doctor sex) relative to the books! i would have stuck those in the poll too but there are. 120 different ways to order 5 unique objects

[ghostie-luvs]

Yandere! Patient <3

tw: depression,, obsessive behavior, very slight mention of sh/attempt

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who had been suffering from depression ever since he was young. His parents never tried to figure out why, only sending him to all these different therapists in hopes of helping him. Of course, they cared but they were also too busy, and perhaps, that was one of the leading causes: neglect.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who never tried hurting himself or attempting but only wallowed in the emptiness of the house he grew up in, no siblings to play with, no parents to admire, only him, and a few servants.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who during highschool, got his first ever partner. Gods, he was ecstatic! I mean, the man was touch starved, attention starved, everything starved really. He really did like the person,, so much that his love developed into a sort of unhealthy love, or so people call it.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who would do anything for his new partner, go above and beyond for them..even if they didn’t like it. I mean, shouldn’t they be more appreciative of his efforts? No matter, he still loves them and will do whatever it takes for them to be happy.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ whose love only grows, progresses into a more..obsessive one. His partner always being treated with the affection he so wish he had when he was younger, with gifts, touches, anything they could ever want.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who savored the feeling of their touches, begging for more each time they pulled away, whining if you could even call it that. He needed the affection, he needed their touch and only deflated whenever he did not get what he wanted, thoughts of his childhood resurfacing.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who began to become dependent to his partner, needing them for everything. He wouldn’t be able to sleep, to eat or anything without them. He needed them, desperately. He couldn’t live without them.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who started to panic when his partner began to get distant. He wanted to ask why, wanted to figure out the problem, what he possibly did wrong. His partner gave him no room to even ask, breaking up with him, saying he was too much, and too clingy. What? Too..clingy?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who after the breakup, didn’t take it very well. He fell into the old friend of his that he had when he was young, finding no use of taking care of himself.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who was sent to a psychiatrist when his parents came back from abroad, noting his appearance and realizing what was happening again. He fought back, he told them that those damn people never helped him!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, the day he arrived to his supposed assigned psychiatrist, felt absolutely horrible being there and only kept to himself. He knew how it would be already. They would prescribe him medicine that didn’t even work.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who, when his eyes fell on you, as you called his name and greeted him with a smile, inviting him to yours and your mentors office-you were only an assistant, only two years older than him- felt his world suddenly fill with colors. What? Soulmates don’t exist. So why was this happening and why did he feel so giddy at your welcoming smile?

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who followed you into your office, making himself comfortable as you told him to sit down and tell you about himself. Why was he nervous? Either way, he did exactly what you told him and found himself getting comfortable in your presence and your smile.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who felt happy..happy in a long time at how much you’ve listened to him and treated him so nicely..just like his partner. He was excited for the next appointment, practically sulking when he had to leave, ignoring the fact that you probably prescribed him medicine on the way out, too busy with what would happen next time.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ who knew he wouldn’t be taking that medicine anyway. Why would he when he found that you were good enough, that you were the cure?

a/n: ahhh another character <3 please point out any mistakes or any constructive criticism is welcomed!! Reblogs are very much appreciated!!

please note that I am not a professional/ expert in the field of mental illnesses and reach out to one if you ever feel symptoms relating to depression or s! thoughts.

more of my works :)

[snailsgoingdowntown]

Help, I Reincarnated as the Female Lead's Sister in Law!

Re-upload due to complications.

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Chapter 1

Dion x Fem! Reader

Warnings: possible yandere themes, arranged marriage, toxic relationship, slight incestual themes due to the content of “Roxana,” blood, mention of murder

Nsfw warnings: Lost of virginity (both parties?), fingering, oral (fem receiving), spit, reader does NOT get to finish, vaginal pain, HEAVY DUB/CON.

Disclaimer: I do NOT condone any of the harmful and dangerous actions/behaviors that takes place in this piece of fiction. These actions/behaviors should not be normalized or romanticized as they are extremely toxic and dangerous.

Minors/blank/blogs that don’t reblog fanfiction dni and don’t span like my posts or you will be blocked.

Overall story summary: you reincarnated into one of your favorite novel-turned-webtoons. However, you didn't want to become the female lead's sister-in-law...

Word count: 4542k

===

“The Way to Protect the Female Lead’s Older Brother,” also known as “ROXANA” was a rather dark novel that was adapted into a webtoon. And as luck would have it, the webtoon wasn’t finished, and you don’t remember all the details of the fan translated web novel you found online.

Now, why would that be a problem? Simple:

You reincarnated into it. Not as a main character, or even a servant to one of the families. You weren’t a child of Lant’s or one of his many wives. You weren’t a friend to one of his children, either. Instead, it was worse than most of what was listed.

Whatever God you managed to piss off had a silly little, petty revenge plan that was straight out of a third-rate horror novel with teenage girls fawning over it. And truthfully, if written right, the non-existent novel would have been a banger – but no, instead it was anything but. Or maybe you only really think that because of your position in this world, where your birth was simple, but painful for your mother, and you were lucky enough to be born into a family that loved and cared for and about you.

It was a noble family, to boot. Wealthy enough to live a comfortable life. Two siblings – an older sister who was already married at the age of thirty with a child on the way. The other was a 12-year-old boy who made it his life mission to be the most annoying little piece of shit on earth.

But as you lay on your back, hands holding your nightgown in place, all you could think about was how small Dion Argece makes you feel. The wedding ceremony just finished up hours ago, and here you are, back pressed against silk sheets as your now-husband hovers over you.

(Name) Argece.

What a horrible name and cruel faith.

Inky black hair that falls into his carmine red eyes that held indifference. His wedding-tux was still on, even the outer jacket with the silly lone rose in his pocket. Oh, what a shame – to be married to such a handsome man only for him to be obsessed with his sister and emotionally unavailable.

God despises you.

“Close your eyes if you’re uncomfortable.”

He unbuttons his outer jacket, sliding it off his shoulders and tosses it to the side. You should close your eyes, you think, because his face was nothing but stone. Not even a condescending grin. He doesn’t comfort you, either – at least not in the typical sense.

“Keep still,” his gloved hands grab your thighs and you let him open them, creating space for him to get closer. You want to push him away and run. But what good would that do? Why couldn’t the man just slice something and claim that the blood on the sheets was from your first night?

“I’m scared.” You speak without thinking, becoming stiff as his hands traveled from your outer thigh to the inner, creeping underneath your nightgown. His gloves feel cold and uncomfortable, touch borderline rough. “I – I need a moment. Please?”

He tilts his head, giving it thought. After a moment he removes himself, but annoyance radiates off him. Your heart beats faster as the second’s pass. You remain on your back. The ceiling is painted white, no decorations and the room was bare saved for a dresser, closet, mirror and a random chair by the window.

You will be sleeping in here, from now on.

“Can’t do it? Then don’t.” he’s annoyed, surely, otherwise he wouldn’t look at you like you were an insect. What a wonderful way to start the newlywed life. But it’s not that easy to walk away, and while it sounds like he’s giving you a say-so, he isn’t; if you don’t consummate your marriage tonight, then…

“… I’m sorry. It’s my first time and I heard there would be pain.” You shouldn’t have to explain yourself. But Dion wasn’t exactly known for his… compassion. Or basic human emotions, either.

If this was someone else, would you be able to do it? Where did everything go wrong? This didn’t happen in the novel; Dion didn’t get married. There wasn’t a grand wedding with the Five Ruling Families in attendance. Nor was there a steamy scene with this man throughout the novel, not even in the side stories.

How did you end up here?

“Then relax.” If you weren’t scared of losing your life you would have run him over. It affects everything! Then again, it wouldn’t matter to him – this is a duty. Not something he wanted, you’re sure, and even if he did it would only have his best interests in mind.

“… I’m ready.” You don’t answer him, because it would only lead to a one-sided argument. Even a wall listens better. Despite your wishes, Dion does the same as last – settles in-between your legs, and this time, you close your eyes.

“Good. Try to relax or it won’t fit.” Your cheeks burn at that, mind already picturing how it would look. Many men say things like that, even in your old world. It’s just a thing they said, like with many things. It doesn’t really mean anything, because if it did then…

His gloves are still on, cold and grip tight on your thighs. You were hoping he would be gentler. But as his hands travel up and up until they’re pulling at the edges of your underwear to slide them down, you realize he won’t.

There’s no slickness down there, your underwear dry and vagina even drier. You peek through your eyelashes, watching as he inspects the article of clothing. He tosses it a few seconds later.

“I’m only going to ask once – would you rather keep your clothes on or off?” It seems that with every second reality just hits harder and harder. This was going to happen. Nothing could stop it. And if hypothetically, if he were to stop this, what then?

Even if he sliced an arm to fake the night, what about later? A baby, Lant wants Dion to have a child. No. You couldn’t do that to a child, especially yours.

“On. Please.” You expect him to just shove in a finger or two, watching as your body jerks in pain. Instead, he lifts your hips until your bottom was off the bed and flips the flimsy skirt up. And then there’s a glob of something wet and gooey, legs twitching as it lands on your bare cunt.

“D – did you just… spit?” steading yourself on your arms, you look on in disbelief as your husband just spat on your pussy. A string of saliva hangs from his tongue.

Instead of answering you, much less look at you, his thumb comes into play and spreads his saliva over the surface of your cunt. It’s only when his thumb swipes over your clit do you let out a shaky breath.

Maybe he was feeling generous or maybe he was curious. Dion decided to rub the twitching nub over and over until your legs twitch and cunt clenched around nothing. The glove made it uncomfortable, but even so, you just tried your best to focus on the pleasure. You weren’t sure if he would give you pleasure like this again.

“You’re enjoying this,” he retreats his hand leaving your twitching and needy clit lonely.

A pathetic whimper escapes as you watch your husband take his glove off with his teeth. This man is everything you fear and more, a character that you should have never met. Yet the sight of him lowering his head to lick a long stride against your slit has your legs shaking.

His tongue is warm and slimy, causing your hands to clench the sheets as your head falls back. Another lick and another until it’s flicking your clit back and forth, sending warmth throughout your body. However, despite the pleasure he’s giving you, his grip is still tight, almost painful on your hips.

Your heartbeat doesn’t slow down as he continues. Your fear barely dies down in your chest, even as the tip of his tongue teases your entrance. You shut your eyes tight, a breathless gasp leaving your lips as he thrusts his tongue into your cunt.

“It feels – “a pause as you catch your breath, “weird, it feels really weird and – “

Dion repeats the action until you’re a trembling mess, sensitive from your mental state and the current oral sex you’re receiving. It’s hard to focus on either one, your mind constantly reminding you that you’re in a novel, about to fuck a man who’s jaded and possibly has a thing for his sister –

“Ah… wait, that’s a lot…” he decides to go further, bringing his thumb back and rubs loose circles into your clit. He’s still eating you out, but not like a man starved like you read in erotic novels.

Even so, your husband keeps at it. If it was a good or bad thing was up for debate – on one hand, while it does feel good, everything is moving too fast, your pleas for slowing down falling on deaf ears. It really is a lot, tongue fucking you while those loose circles on your clit become tighter, rougher. Should you just lay back and take what he gives?

Your mother would probably say so. Your sister would just pat your head and smile like it was expected. Normal. Take what he gives, especially if it benefits you in any way.

“…?” your eyes open at his tongue leaving your cunt with a saliva trail, his eyes glued to your twitching sex. His thumb also stops rubbing circles, instead going back to grip your hip as your back starts to become sore. Your ass is still off the bed and if he keeps you hosted up like this, then you really will snap in half.

But then he locks eyes with you.

“I thought you were scared.” Dion doesn’t let you respond, either because he doesn’t care or because it would ruin the ‘mood.’ He latches his mouth to your poor, abused nub instead. And sucks.

“H-hey!” one hand supporting you while the other grabs at his hair, you didn’t expect him to throw your legs over his shoulders. “That’s enough, really, no need to – ugh…” his mouth was warm and soft, but it sends your nerves on fire.

Good. Bad. Good. Bad.

Good, bad, does it matter anymore?

He sucks harder and your fingers tug harshly at his hair. You kick your legs but are unable to tell if it’s from pleasure or the flight or fight response he’s causing you. He doesn’t budge, doesn’t bat an eye, making it his life mission to suck you dry.

“Ah – wait, Dion – “

It’s at your whine of his name does he finally, finally stop, a ‘pop’ when he detaches his mouth from your sensitive and bullied clit. Your husband decides to lick one last long stripe from your entrance to your clit, all the while making eye contact with you. Your chest heaves as your mind settles, arousal overthrowing your thoughts.

“What is it?” Monotone, his voice is monotone and he’s not even out of breath. Your mother lied, there’s not even a hint of pink across those cheeks. It’s fine, though – no, it’s not, it’s baffling how steady he seems when your back is about to break, and you can’t even breathe.

Your eyes travel from his to his hair, where your hand is still grasping the strands. Mind still catching up to your body, you let go and draw your hand back, covering your eyes with it. Your entire body is shaky and legs sore. You’re not used to this position.

“It – it’s enough.” Your husband lets you pull your legs back, feet pressing against his broad shoulders as you bring them back down. The relief is almost immediate, a pleasurable and relief-filled sigh leaving your chest. You allow yourself to rest for a bit, your sensitive cunt and sore legs screaming for it.

“… O – okay, I think, I think that’s fine. Excuse me…” gently, you pull one leg up until your foot is flat against the bed. With a shudder, you trace your entrance timidly with two fingers, getting used to the touch. You’re not sure of how big he was, but you’ll use three fingers just in case.

You gape like a fish when his hand reaches out, grabbing yours roughly. You didn’t even notice the dip in the mattress as Dion got closer on his knees, face inches away from yours. Oh God, now what –

“What are you doing?” clearly annoyed, Dion doesn’t let you look away – not that you were going to – free hand grabbing your face, pointer finger and thumb on each cheek. It’s barely loose enough to leave no bruises. It hurts regardless.

“I – I was… prepping…” part of you wants to pretend that this man doesn’t know how to comfortably prepare you for pentation with his… but you know better. Because an inexperienced man wouldn’t know how to do things with his tongue like that, or where the clit was because –

“Are you still scared?” The hand that was holding yours releases it, opting to sneak its way to your cunt. His fingers were larger than yours, nimbler as they stroke your labia minora. Are the shivers washing over you from nervousness or arousal?

“… I’m scared of the pain.” By instinct, you knew he meant more than scared of sex – if you feared him. Still.

It doesn’t need to be said.

“Scared of the pain?” His eyes glow in the moonlight, bright red with absolutely no emotion. “Why?” he doesn’t break eye contact as his fingers inch closer to your entrance, stroking the opening, making your legs jolt. What a horrible man.

You remind yourself that this man only felt fear as a child – and even then, it probably wasn’t for very long. Nothing lasts for long, in this estate.

“Because I hate it.” You don’t break eye contact either, breathing in when one finger slowly sinks in, your walls now stretching uncomfortably. It’s not as painful as you thought it would be, your wetness mixed with his saliva making it easier. Your nails are about to rip holes in the silk sheets.

Like a curious animal, he tilts his head, curling his finger. It doesn’t feel good, it hurts, but you endure it even when you wince. Dion decides it would be a good idea to spread your legs a bit further, and like a bug, crawls between them even more. You hiccup when he adds a second finger.

They’re bigger than yours, they reach deeper. In your old world, did it feel like this too? You can’t remember.

“It’s going to hurt worse if you don’t let me finish this. Relax your legs before it hurts worse.” Pressure builds in your eyes, but you fight it off. “Save your tears for when it matters.”

You’re tired of him already.

He doesn’t move them, at first. It’s almost like he expects this, because as you adjust to something foreign inside you, he starts to rub at your clit, again. Softly this time, touch firm enough to feel but not hard enough to hurt. Or maybe you’re lying to yourself because you’re wincing, still.

When he starts to thrust them in and out, you force yourself to look at the ceiling, scared to see the expression on his face. You also don’t want to watch the show, scared it’ll already be bloody. Just a bit.

“It’s tight.” He states it like it’s the morning news. “And wet.” Your cheeks burn with both shame and embarrassment, shutting your eyes.

“… ugh…,” groaning, your hand reaches out to grab his wrist. “It hurts, a lot.” You sit up, back against the headboard, avoiding your husband’s gaze. Unfortunately, by doing this, your eyes land on your messy hole, light blood on his fingers as he pulls them out only to thrust them in again.

“It’s normal. The more you resist the worse it gets.” You give up, letting him do as he pleases, shutting your mouth.

The fingering still hurts as the minutes go by, but little by little the pressure eases down and when he arches his hand, he hits something soft and spongy. He’s rewarded the sight of your head banging against the headboard once, shoulder tense as you bite your bottom lip.

If only you could see that look in his eyes.

“Here?” He repeats the action, faster this time. You only nod your head, lips ajar, tongue swiping over them. Your hips have a mind of their own, raising as the heel of his hand rapidly smacks against your clit with his thrust of his hand.

You’re half there mentally and halfway in heaven, momently forgetting just who was here with you, who room this belonged to, and your entire situation to begin with. “Oh - wait, it’s a lot but – “

A third finger is added, and it starts to sting again. Another wince, another groan, but your arousal helps to keep the pain to minimum. All three fingers curl to hit that special spot that makes you see blacked out stars and pussy clench. All the while light blood coats his fingers, a sight he’s already used to due to his lifestyle.

It’s only when he pulls his hand away completely do you return from the skies, a small layer of sweet coating your forehead. Your hands are shaky as you look at him, only to be drowned back into reality when you’re met with those red, indifferent eyes that glow brighter than the moon.

“If you’re ready, lay on your back and spread your legs.” He undoes his pants while saying this, scooting back to give you some room.

With a heavy heart, you do so, laying on your back and spread your legs. You were fine just moments ago, so why is your heart leaping out of your throat rather than staying in your chest? Maybe it was because of the pleasure, or…

You’re scared, again.

You don’t look when something fat and heavy plops onto your pelvis. You don’t look when he brings you closer by your thighs. You don’t look as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds, catching on your clit.

“Relax or it won’t fit,” he reminds you before pushing the fat head in. At first, it’s a sting no bigger than an ant bite. But then another inch goes in, and you feel like a sword is cutting you straight up open, your legs tensing and hands grasping his forearms in a futile attempt to stop him.

Your nails dig into his sleeves, and you can feel the skin underneath. The tears build up as your face becomes hot, taking in deep breaths like it would soften the intruding body part.

“Big – it’s too big, it’s not going to fit – “

“… You look cute when you cry.” It’s sinister, teasing and everything that makes your stomach drop. His thumb wipes away your tears that’s already staining your skin. But he stops regardless, if only to shut you up if nothing else.

You think a few minutes pass but it’s hard to tell when he’s still inside, pulsing and you could feel every vein on his cock. It’s thick, it’s big and you don’t think you’re equipped to handle it, handle him. He’s everything that ruins your sense of self, that makes your dreams shatter and fear rot you from the inside out.

But he’s your husband…

But he’s your husband.

“Relax,” he inches in deeper, slower this time, but not letting you get a word in. Your nails dig deeper, and if it weren’t for his shirt, you would have drawn blood. Another inch, another gasp that leaves you breathless, grasping for anything that could keep you grounded. The only thing you could grab was him, however.

“Dion, Dion, you’re going to break me, I can’t – I can’t – “

“You can. You have to.” Was his voice raspy, just now? If so, it worries you, because you just remembered one very important detail – Dion Argece was, if nothing else, a sadist. Be it from his childhood trauma, or if he would be like this regardless of, he loved seeing Roxana cried.

It never occurred to you that he would love seeing you cry, too.

How deep was he? It feels you’re being speared open, his cock bullying its way into your virgin hole. You weren’t a virgin in your last life, but it didn’t hurt like this. It had hurt, felt like you were being ripped, but not enough to make you cry and breathless.

You think you can feel blood trickling down your ass crack. “Please tell me you’re almost there, please…” sniffling, you look up at your husband, the man taking your virginity in the name of ‘marriage.’ A mirror shatters in the back of your mind.

There was a flush across his cheeks. Pupils blown wide and a small grin on his lips. He was enjoying this. Your pain, your tears and perhaps even your fear – he was enjoying this.

It would have been better if he didn’t feel anything, you think. Just a stone statue that was performing its task. But even monsters had emotions, you guess.

“I’m not. Just endure it for a bit longer – I’ll stop once I’m at the hilt.” Was he a liar in the novel? You think he was, otherwise, the overtaking of the Argece family wouldn’t have happened. Lant wouldn't be dead. But things haven’t followed the novel to a T – this was proof enough.

“You’ll stop? Like, completely? You – you took my virginity, so that should be enough. Right?”

You hate it when he keeps wiping your tears away. Or when he slides in even more, your blood coating his stupid dick. You hate it when he brings one hand to toy with your clit, granting you pleasure that was just overthrown by the smothering pain traveling up to your belly.

He doesn’t answer. And that was enough for you to rake your nails down the back of neck, drawing blood in return. He’s making you bleed, so it was only fair if you could too, right?

Deeper and deeper until his balls rest against your bottom and pelvic meeting yours. Surprisingly, your husband keeps his word, letting you adjust to the new feeling. It feels heavy. It feels like a heartbeat, like a rod that was stuck. It felt awful.

How long did it take you to get used to it, in the past? No longer than fifteen minutes max, right? No, shorter than that. Then again, it didn’t hurt this much, but that partner was more loving, more caring, gentler –

“Who are you thinking about?”

The question breaks you out of your daze. You blink, once, before you question him back. He only glares in response.

Panic fills you when he pulls out, pain still there, blood still trickling down. “Wait, you’re – “

“I’m what?” he pulls out until only the head remained inside. You try your best to ignore the bruising grip he has on your hips. You’re going to be sore tomorrow. If you survive this, anyway.

God, if you’re listening, please let this night end peacefully.

“B-big. It’s going to hurt, please don’t…” dragging your hands down from his neck to his chest, your fingers dig into his shirt.

“Hm. A shame, really; you still must give birth, eventually. It’s better to get used to it now than later.” Your mind doesn’t catch up with your body, legs tensing when he slides oh so carefully back in, like he didn’t just push your worries aside like nothing. “Relax.”

“Dion,” hiccupping, you brace yourself, head nuzzling into his chest as your hold on his shirt tightens. When he pulls back out, you could feel every detail, every vein trail, his grith truly opening you. He graces you a mercy, going at a languid pace, minimizing the pain. His thumb never stopped rubbing your clit, either.

It goes like that, for a good while. Slow and steady, your hushed sobs dying on your lips, your husband careful with his thrusts, but not his grip. It was almost comforting, in a way. But you were still scared of him, and of what will happen after this.

“… I have a proposition.”

His hips stop and your ears perk up.

“You want me to stop, correct?” Dion pulls back until he’s on his heels, his cock dragging along your walls. You wince before breathing out. He doesn’t even try to hide the sadistic look in his eye as he sees the dried tear streaks on your cheeks. He almost grins in glee.

“Y-yes…” You don’t let go of his shirt. “Why…?” there’s hope inside you, but dread starts to rot it away.

“Jerk it.”

“…what?”

He was different from the novel. Extremely so, because you doubt that Dion would suggest a thing, much less give you a choice in the matter. That Dion would have either ignored you and this night or take you as is, no mercy, no humanity granted if this took place at the beginning at the novel.

When he doesn’t repeat himself, you pull yourself up until you’re resting on your knees. The sight of blood both on his cock and the sheets make you gag and thankfully, he doesn’t comment on it. Hesitantly, you take him into your hands, fingers barely able to close around it.

It throbs in your hand.

Your blood is coating your hands now, too.

Only silence is between you, your hands working him. Your thumb swipes over his head, circling it before stroking his dick up and down. Your other hand plays with his balls, massaging them. You’re not sure how long it would take him to finish.

Your core throbs in pain, and you become worried over the thought of peeing. It would probably hurt.

You want to sleep.

Without giving it much thought, just like your husband, you spit on it, a glob of saliva falling onto the staff. It throbs harder. And when you look at him, tired eyes and drool still dripping down from your tongue, still jerking him off –

“…Ngh…”

It’s almost cute, the way sperm spurts out and makes a mess on your hands. The very small and fleeting look of embarrassment on his feature is almost enough to comfort you. But when there’s barely a sheen of sweat adoring his forehead, unlike you was still recovering, you’re reminded that your husband was different from you.

There are no kisses, no sweet nothings shared between lovers. No stroking your hair or comforting your trembling form as your legs shake. Or even an offer to warm a bath for you, the warm water soothing your body. There’s none of that.

Not even a smile.

“Welcome to the Argece family, wife.”

Instead, all that awaits you is a restless sleep on a bloodied mattress with a husband who left after cleaning himself up.

Which God despises you so much and why?

[thera-daydreams]

SCARLET & SHADOW

ᱬ The Darkling x Scarlet Witch!Reader ᱬ

[aleksander morozova x wanda maximoff!reader]

Warning: This will be very canon-divergent, considering that it will be a fix-it fic for the Darkling's story. Will contain elements of violence, manipulation, and gore present in the series. Plus, mentions of depression, trauma, regret (as W. Maximoff) and the inclusion of possible adult themes in the later chapters.

Majority of this will also be based on the Netflix show since I haven't read the entire books yet. There may be inaccuracies and a whole lot of changes. You have been warned!

Otherwise, proceed and enjoy! ♟️🌹

(Sidenote: So... okay. I'm deciding to write this and make it a formal fanfic—as per previous post one and post two—because I seriously cannot sleep with the overwhelming inspiration I'm getting from shipping these two characters. Aleksander and Wanda are practically the same person in different fonts. They both did shitty, selfish things but I need to give them a happy ending. Together. Somehow. And hate it or love it, I firmly believe this idea should be shared to the world. If you know my other JJK fic, you'll know Wanda is an obsession of mine. Also, also, also! Please bear with me if updates are scarce. I'm juggling my academic review, work, another unfinished fic, and my daily fangirling. 🥹)

1. once upon a dream

Aleksander had dreams of you long before he even knew you. Maybe it was the stress of this neverending war. Either way, you weren't real anyway... were you?

(3.9k words)

2. coincidence

The Black General finds himself magnetized by the seemingly inconspicuous gardener in the Little Palace. He gets to know you, contemplating life. Just when he thought you were just a strangely wise, young otkazat'sya woman, he finds out why exactly you decided to work in the Little Palace.

(2.5k words)

3. reflection

You are confronted by a certain Shadow Summoner about your motives in bringing the kids to the Little Palace. He realizes that you've loved and lost so deeply, eerily the same as he had. Perhaps that's the reason why he was so drawn to you; he could see his reflection in your eyes. But the more answers the Darkling got, the more questions he had. Unfortunately for you, Aleksander was a patient and persistent man who would stop at nothing to get what he wants.

(4.8k words)

4. haunted

You were no powerless otkazat’sya, Aleksander finds out the hard way. He’s pushed you too far, and he’s left to deal with the aftermath of the new knowledge he half-regrets he gained. On the other hand, you see something bad about this new world that wished you had never seen.

(6.0k words)

5. ?

(tba)

... more chapters?

Synopsis:

"No more magic." You swore to yourself after the madness that you'd spiraled into; the chaos you'd wrecked upon the Multiverse under the influence of the Darkhold. Now, you had destroyed the Darkhold in every universe.

The last universe that had a Darkhold? Safe. Book of the Damned, gone. It was a land with no heroes, gods, or sorcerers... just... normal people and... Grisha? Either way, it was time for your atonement. Your repentance for your mortal sins.

But when you save and bring three orphaned Grisha children to the Little Palace, working as an otkazat'sya gardener to secretly keep an eye on them, it turns out that a certain Shadow Summoner begins to have his eye on you, instead.

taglist: @idohknow @robertthehoover @the-desilittle-bird @pearlstiare

[m4rs-ex3]

so naturally i was up at 1am the other night watching tdp related youtube videos and i figured i'd watch the 2020 comic con panel since it'd been a while and oh my god some of this shit

(also just me talking about how much i love this cast)

"IT IS I, DARK_MAGE_DAD420" i cannot believe that is real

aaravos: "if i want to do a screen call, i must perform a cosmic blood ritual. with a mortar and pestle. AND FLOATING KNIVES" you are fucking kidding me (edit: i realize that pertains to what he did in s2 but still like "cosmic" "ritual" "knives"? cmon)

jason simpson playing the ukulele. that's all.

jack: *talking about how he had a baby in quarantine* eric: i've been doing a lot of gardening... uh i haven't had a baby, but you never know! i mean if it's possible through social distancing aaron: if anybody can make that happen through social distancing it's aaravos you are F U C K I N G KIDDING ME

racquel: some fun things i did- i uhh died my own hair and burned my scalp and i would like to inform you all it's finally healed and we're good to go, i'm ready to do it again! i'm obsessed with the fact that racquel is quite literally claudia irl

the ttm read is awesome. jack came with the Rayla Voice fucking PREPARED oh my god

i don't think i've ever actually talked about the dnd sketch but it is one of my favorite things in the entire world

rayllum in this sketch is amazing particularly callum he is SO down bad like "my character is a mysterious elf assassin with two beautiful blades to match my two beautiful eyes~~ ✨" like hello that's canon idc if it's a sketch that is canon

"my character cannot help but look at her. he locks eyes with rayla's mage" "....there will be time for roleplaying later" HELLO THATS GOLD

viren in this skit is genuinely one of the funniest things i've ever seen. i cannot emphasize enough this is comedy

necromancer ezran. i think about him daily.

s: "i start swinging my sword at, uhh, idk, rayla's mage" r: "WAIT WHAT" c: "uh wait wait i take it back MY SWORDS GLEAM INTO THE LIGHT AS I LEAP TO THE DEFENCE OF THE BEAUTIFUL MAGE!" s: "hey no takebacks!" sibling ass fight i love them

"LIKE WHAT DO YOU ACTUALLY DO?"

i rolled a 1 😐

i loot their corpses for blood >:D

"do elves have four toes?" "i always assumed that they would have 6 so they could learn how to count to 20" paula my love

someone get sasha some hamantaschen

i don't need arc 3 actually i just need the beta script including as many guns n roses references as possible

racquel: ok call me crazy, call me crazy... jesse: you're crazy, racquel racquel: THANK YOU FINALLY they are literally just them

"I WILL NOT BE POSTING A SINGLE THING ABOUT ICE, FOR I AM JULIA" (okay but.... venous frigoris anyone?)

paula: ugh, no one likes soren jesse: well no one likes rayla racquel: you two should fight 😈

long hard sigh

bonus: jason: literally no one likes viren so let's move on

"how old is bait?" "sasha, how old do you think bait is?" "3."

"is-is a glow toad kinda like a toad?" "................kind of"

i fucking love sasha have i ever mentioned that i fucking love sasha

"i think that he's 56." "either 3 or 56 only, apparently"

the saga announcement is great i love how everyone's is so excited they don't even know all of their characters are about to be destroyed physically and emotionally

the way aaron says it so fucking funny "is there gonna be a season 4?" "uh so i think it's really important to emphasize: yes-"

"i too want to cry" "just cry, just-" "IT'S A PANDEMIC. NO TEARS. THERE'S NO CRYING IN A PANDEMIC." "...where is this rule coming from?"

and finally there were a handful of moments that i could not do justice by transcribing in a post so here is a masterfully edited compilation i made

[selkiesongss]

listen. when it comes to which manifestation of magic would choose sam, i'll admit that seegenpelater is the obvious answer. i get it, i do! like lou mentioned in today's AP, it's literally persuasion magic, obviously that meshes well with sam's magical strengths

HOWEVER !!! i am a firm believer that at her core, sam is more aligned with miskoro (alteration) than seegenpelater

lengthy and incoherent rambling below the cut

as @/wanderingsoftly noted in an earlier post of theirs on this topic, sam's very first spell was transmuting lint into a sundae. i'd like to point out that when given the reality-warping powers of magic, she doesn't think to just poof a sundae into existence - her first thought is to use the lint from her pocket as some kind of equivalent(ish) exchange.

i see this mindset of 'work with what you've got' as a huge part of sam's character, since in her interactions with both the pilot program and the world, she always meets people where they're at. she consistently matches people's energies in a way that neither diminishes nor amplifies, but in a way that illuminates. i think the clearest manifestation of that is in her local charm effect- she doesn't try to be likeable, her presence is just so warm and kind that you can't help but be disarmed. you bare your soul to her, and she responds with a compassionate and tender understanding that opens up an entirely new world of possibilities.

sam sheds light on the ugly, harsh edges of a person and embraces them as they are- not to be romanticized but not to be neglected either. she's an amazing friend when life is good and a safe haven when life gets rough; she was there for jammer when he took on alexis the dragon's curse, for k after they accidentally killed evan, and for evan when he was still a shadow haunting a pair of shoes. there is no aspect of humanity that sam butler/black/britain is too afraid to hold, because no burden is too great to be shared.

with that being said, i'll try to get to my actual argument.

sam is undeniably magnetic, able to compel demons into releasing their grip on evan's soul, and i'm not going to dismiss that at all! sam's ability to influence the people around her is a fundamental part of her character, but i think it's important to draw a distinction between being magically persuasive and being naturally persuasive, as sam usually falls into the latter category.

as for why that distinction is important, it's a matter of intention.

the magic of seegenpelater is inherently subjective, taking perceived reality and molding it into illusory shapes at the whims of its user. on the other hand, the magic of miskoro is inherently objective; its alterations are exactly what they present themselves to be. as we've seen on weugan, sam is deeply opposed to projecting her desires onto others and seegenpelater is entirely antithetical to that. in contrast, miskoro represents the honest potential to change- which sam has always kindled in those around her- and i think that perfectly aligns with who she is at her core.

sam has been helping people out since day one. she provides the warmth and safety they need to grow past their fixed ideas about who they should be and into who they could be. she's been a sailor moon fangirl, a twitch streamer, a scuppers player, a television host, a celebrity, the world's greatest wizard, and only the qohlye knows who she'll be next!

sam butler/black/britain is a woman who treats surnames like haute couture, a wizard perpetually moving forward, unbridled by the threat of stagnation, and i am deeply obsessed with her. somebody please sedate me.

anyway save my girl from cannibal island PLEASE !!!! drop by purble place and get some dope ass alchemy powers instead :3

LET SAM COMMIT CRIMES AGAINST THE NATURAL SCIENCES '24

[str8upjorkinit]

Why do you like the brat

(genuinely want to know lmao)

funny you should ask that...

it all started when I saw that one ad where leo was kicking his feet in the bathtub...(big yap warning)

shallowly, he gives power bottom energy. i was prepared to not like him since my friend was further in the game + picked leo bc she thought he looked cunty and quickly found out that she hated him, but my first meeting of him was that ad.... that ad.... hes so like girly and like cutesy and and :3c!! so then i actually met him in the game... hes so girly and cutesy omg, i live for that fake bitch energy. hes so like... pathetic and two faced and cute like....

so basically i have this thing where i yearn for this kind of dynamic where i can overpower him but hes smarter than me and also very interesting so i just let him boss me around. hes so like... weak. and i love his voice i need him to moan in my ear especially when hes being fake and cute bc he wants something from you? "captain~<3 can you please open this bottle for me?~ <3" ugh. fuck. boner. hes such a vixen. hes such a diva.

also him crying... oh my lord LEO CRYING!!! UGHHH. the world's prettiest crier <3 and his goddamn tongue piercing

also like the switch up is hot too, the duality of man <3 my pretty delicate princess!!

psychologically, hes such a fucking wreck and i love that, hes such a bitch, and hes so manipulative, and hes so jealous, and insecure, and such a liar, im so fascinated!!! does he know how awful he is? does he realize how toxic hes being? is he toxic on purpose?? is he a shit friend on purpose? is it a power trip to make sho pay for his food or is he just lazy? i want to know what hes thinking

his relationship with sho is so fascinating too, like its so clear hes scared of losing him but in a way he also hates/loves him. like wdym you have other friends besides me??? you're starting a business??? ugh, ur so lame. and he actively tries to isolate him, is he jealous of sho's popularity? his talents? his social life? or does he hate the things that takes sho away from him?? he also does not give a shit about shos happiness either bc he like badmouthed him to subaru just so subaru could leave him alone... wow... what a fucking asshole... im so invested, drama!!!! also the valentine's day line where he doesn't mention getting anything but sho does,,, it means something no?? dude, like, leo is everything and nothing, i bet he feels so worthless but to make up for that he uses sho and internet validation

hes built like a reality tv character, THE instigator but hes smart about it. hes such an attention whore, like .... regina george... guys real shit i have a mean girl kink /j

leos the type of bitch to flirt with and sleep with his boss to make more money.

ANOTHER THING he has like a weird sense of justice?? like he hates ppl who've made the world shitty (ref to when he jumps off the building) and so him and sho scamming old rich guys is kinda like them being vigilantes? leos kinda like an anti-hero in a way. hes so interesting!!! AHH!!!

omg also hes in his self-destructive era and i need to see how it goes, like will he be a villain? will his life get ruined bc of himself?? will he get punished? will he redeem himself? does he regret his choices??

ngl i tho im actually not romantically interested in him, which is pretty surprising considering how much i like him. im obsessed with him in the most objectifying way possible

but yeah i love my toxic fruit tart boy <333

[feyd-meowtha]

taps the mic. hilly what are your thoughts on the nature of feydpaul asking for a friend (the friend is me)

No strong feelings really... Pretty impartial ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Unless we're talking about the fact that they're narrative foils, they're star-crossed lovers. They're polar opposites, they're the same person. They were born to either kill one another or give birth to the most important child who ever lived. Neither of them has ever had a real friend their own age and they didn't even know enough about normal childhoods to mourn not having them. I almost never think about the complex elements of gender present in the fated relationship in a boy with the powers of a female witch, who was supposed to be born a girl, and another boy with pouty lips whose favourite weapon is poison (famously a feminine choice) and wears flares and leotards and lives under the thumb of a powerful, abusive older man.

I especially almost never ponder the fact that one of them tried to kill the other in the most Freudian imaginable possible way - cunty secret poison hip knife - because that simply has no strange and interesting implications which I could theorise about for hours over a bottle of japanese whiskey. The symbolism of penetration and killing thing Vs as bringer of new life, especially in the insanely penetration obsessed world of Dune. (Knives and breeding programmes and worms, whole topic in itself for sure)

It also means nothing to me when I think of they ways in which they were so uniquely isolated. Both having members of their families killed and being thrust into positions where ambition and power seem like the only way to keep themselves alive and sane and safe. It means nothing to me when I consider that no-one in Feyd's life ever genuinely loved him, probably not up until his death, not even Frank Herbert who never even bothered to bring him up again after the first book. I never think about the ways both of their families decay and crumble after they're gone, their children either suffering bizarre fates or disappearing. How even their legacies are bloody and stained.

Never before have life and death and fate and trauma and power and hope and destruction (both of the self and the other) been so entwined in characters with less interaction, and as you can see .... I really have no opinions on it one way or another.

Plato said this about them and it makes me feel really normal, actually.

(thank you for asking - as you can see, they make me deeply unwell and I haven't had a full nights sleep since the second movie came out. Living the dream wouldn't change a thing <3)

[alexanderwales]

Pitchposting: Generation Ship

(Pitchposting is a way of giving away ideas that threaten to grow in my mind until they become draft documents. They are free to a good home, though there's no guarantee that I won't try to write them at some point.)

Alright, hear me out: it's a generation ship, one expected to reach its destination with an entirely new generation of people who never knew the homeland, except instead of being a scifi concept, we're doing it as mundane as possible.

I think this is one of those ideas that only appeals to me because I immediately start thinking about the logistics of it all, and there's something in the mundane, gritty realism that really appeals to me. Mostly I'm worldbuilding and problem solving, trying to get at what it would actually be like for people to have been at sea their entire lives, to have a ship that either needs to endure the waves or be rebuilt as it goes.

I was going to say that this needs to be fantasy, but I guess technically it can be an Alderson Disk or something. An Alderson Disk has a habitable circumference of approximately a billion kilometers, a sailing ship can go maybe eighty miles a day, that's a ballpark of 12.5 million days to circumnavigate the disk, which is 34,000 years. That's a hell of a lot of generations, twice as long as we've had agriculture. (But you could also just have it be a fantasy world that's larger than our own, with a generation ship that was only trying to flee to greener pastures that are a hundred years away.)

The purest version of this story is a world that's just water, to match the void of space. The ship sails, repairs are made from flotsam and jetsam and driftwood from unspecified places, rainwater is caught and put into barrels, pitch is used for patching, fish and kelp are hauled up from the ocean, birds are captured from the sky, and the ship must necessarily endure storms and swells.

I've always felt there was something compelling about constrained living situations, places where everyone knows everyone and you have to make it work because there's absolutely no way out — where you're on a knife's edge because there's only so much preparation you can do. A generation ship needs to think about absolutely all of its needs and how it will deal with the deterioration of all things over time, along with problems that might only crop up once every hundred years, or problems that won't become apparent until long after the ship has left the dock.

Let's say you have a sailing ship the size of one of the largest sailing vessels of the 19th century, a thousand people all told. The families are carefully braided to prevent accidental incest, everyone has their position in life, every master has at least one apprentice but probably more so gout or cancer don't eliminate the last person who knew how to make more pitch.

This is clearly an Idea story, one that starts with a ridiculous premise and then explores it, but one of my favorite things about idea stories is finding the characters and the conflicts within them. For a generation ship, the biggest, most obvious conflict is the conflict between generations: the old people who once knew dry land, the middle generation who will likely die before the destination is reached, and the children who will be the beneficiaries of all this travel.

We have a woman who was born to the sea, who loves the sea, who loves the travel and takes great joy in knowing that she's probably not going to see the end of it until she's ancient. We have the grizzled sailor who's nearly risen to the rank of captain and sees the whole mission as utter foolishness. A boy of thirteen who is obsessed with writing stories about the land they've set off toward and keeps his telescope on the horizon, hoping that the predictions were off, that they're somehow two decades early. A girl of sixteen who doesn't feel suited to the marriage that's planned for her, who is secretly in love with her best friend. A scientist who has been quietly advancing the state of knowledge with every new fish brought up from the deeps.

And then there's the plot, which there are so, so many options for. I would start the novel with simple sailing, a few chapters of the daily routine, the personalities, their petty fights with each other, and the stress of being in the middle of unfathomably deep waters whose depths are only glimpsed when the nets bring up something new. Then ... an island, another ship, sea creatures that have a glimmer of intelligence, a storm that makes the ship limp, spoilage that threatens starvation unless drastic action is taken, a political squabble that might bring all the plans crashing down.

Maybe it's a book about being trapped by the past, or about hanging on by what feels like a delicate thread, or about how systems are fragile and careful thinking and brave leadership are the only things that will get us through.

Mostly I think I want to be a geek about a ship that needs to survive in the ocean for a hundred years, and I do not have the time to write this novel, not when there are so many other novels to write.

[the-banana-0verlord]

Love

Requested by @angeltreesunshine (i don't take requests anymore btw). You didn't specify which characters but you did send the request on my overblot malleus blog so i included him. I also included kalim because he was the one i had most ideas for. I really hope you enjoy!

Cw: i realized half-way through i wasn't comfortable with writing yandere that aren't ocs or canon yanderes anymore so there's that, possibly ooc, yandere stuff, implied kidnapping, obsession, reader has a mental breakdown.

Reader is gender neutral

🕯🕯🕯

Love.

It's a wonderful feeling, right? To look at someone in the eyes and think "I wish to spend the rest of my life with them."

But you knew better. You knew the truth about it. How it clawed at your chest, ripping your heart to shreds. How it left you broken beyond repair. What a wretched thing.

So why did he have to come in? Why did he have to appear in your life, bringing in the doomed butterflies?

"Why....why..." you uttered between sobs, your legs giving in as you slid down the wall behind you. The deserted courtyard could only echo your words. Tears as black as ink(or was it really ink? You didn't really know or care at this point) rolled down your cheeks.

"I wish I could just erase my feelings... I'm not cut out for love... Why can't it just go away!?" You cried aloud

Not knowing he was there, hearing your every word.

🕯🕯🕯

Malleus Draconia

How intriguing you were. Unafraid of him but terrified of love, the very thing he longed for. Yes, how truly intriguing.

The sound of his heels resonated closer and closer to you until he was standing in front of you, his shadow cast over your crouching body. He kneeled down at your level.

"Well well well, what do we have here?" He whispered, placing a strand of loose hair behind your ear. You looked up quickly, confused and panicked. In your sorrow, you hadn't noticed him arriving. He gently wiped your tears away with his thumb, leaving a dark stain. He was smiling, but there was no warmth to it.

"Wh-what are you doing?!" you spoke out, voice hoarse from crying.

"Shh..." he answered simply.

He took you in his arms and stood up again. He grabbed your hand and put it on his cheek.

"Look at us, what poor souls we are. Doomed to a life of unfortunate affection. How better would it be if we lived it together?"

You protested:

"Don't say that. It would only make it worse. I'm not sharing my life with anyone, even id it's you."

Especially if it's you.

Malleus brought your hand to his heart, this time. You could feel it thumping even through his thick dorm uniform.

"Do you feel it beat? It beats for you, my dear. No matter what. No matter if you don't want me. But you do. You're only scared. You'll see we're meant to be."

Green lights started forming around the both of you. As it began to cover you entirely, he brought his face close to yours.

That night, you disappeared from Night Raven College. You would learn to love Malleus, and you would stay together for eternity.

🕯🕯🕯

Kalim Al-Asim

Afraid of love? How could that be possible?! Love was the best feeling in the world! It made you all warm and fuzzy inside. It made his body catch on fire whenever he saw you.

So when he witnessed you all broken down in tears on the ground... It made him ache. He just had to show you how beautiful it was!

After that night, his behavior changed oh-so slightly. His usual clinginess became even more overwhelming. He wanted to spend every minute with you, and he was always either hugging you or holding your hand. You would also get showered with all kinds of presents.

It made you more uncomfortable than ever. Your skin crawled everytime his fingertips were laid on you. Your body had a natural knee-jerking, stomach-churning reaction to his dreaded affection. You tried to avoid him as much as you could, but it never seemed to work. He would always find you, wherever, whenever.

If he kept on like this, you wouls get used to it, right? Just like how people cured their arachnophobia by looking at pictures of spiders. It would work, Kalim was sure of it.

And before you knew it, a golden cage had formed around you.

🕯🕯🕯

I hope you have a good day/night!

[toothlespoggers]

I got silly and infodumped again…

The fact that crystalised despite being the worst ninjago season by far- showed that for a long time now, possibly since season 11 has had his emotions turned off. Is crazy to me. Because I know Cole had a pretty okay moment with Zane about it and he ended up turning it back on in the same season or maybe even same episode I can’t fully recall. But I don’t know how mentally fucked these characters are or what- but I feel like no one stopped to think about that for enough time. Like Cole, he’s a very caring, affectionate, empathetic guy. Yet even he didn’t really seem to register the implications this had for Zane’s mental health. Zane is filled with so much emotional turmoil that he physically couldn’t bear to feel anymore. And this group of traumatised young adults were like- “oh haha Zane, that’s so quirky, that’s so silly of you, haha relatable anyway-“ Like duuuude I don’t know if this is the writers wanting to avoid actually discussing mental health in a “children’s” show or if these characters have had such little emotional awareness and support through their lives, almost dying everyday since they were teenagers that they are so desensitised to the horrors tm that they literally cannot tell when someone is basically holding a sign over their head saying “I NEED SERIOUS HELP.”

That kinda says a lot about Sensei wu, doesn’t it? I mean he’s great we Stan- but he did kinda adopt a bunch of struggling teenagers and burden them with saving the world and then allowed them to put themselves in harms way for years, without ever sitting them down and asking them if they were okay, emotionally? Like I don’t know if this happened and I didn’t see it or if it was implied to happen off screen but I really doubt wu was any sort of a support system for these guys that treated him like a father figure.  

Maybe it’s because this cycle of pain goes back to wu as well, because he’s not the most stable person in the world either, but idk it feels crazy to me that these people that were basically family. Just- never checked in on eachothers well being or looked out for each others mental issues.

I mean they never really got a break and when they did- hell the only reason season 11 happened was because wu, so obsessed with the ninja being in tip top condition urged them to do something, which led these idiots to unleashing Aspheera and then ended up with probably the worst fate you could wish upon a Lego, for Zane. Seriously the fact they turned the ice emperor thing into a joke is so tone deaf to me like if this happened to your friend. In real life, (just suspend disbelief for a second) you would be absolutely GUTTED. You’d probably feel SO BAD. And that person? Probably can’t function like a normal individual anymore. Probably needs serious therapy.  Not a joke.

I don’t hate wu, I never did. But I just think he’s been very irresponsible with the way he’s handled his students and while he’s wise in some aspects 70% of problems in the show could’ve been avoided if this old man valued communication.

And if this isn’t based on the characters flaws. And it’s Lego refusing to discuss mental illness and mental health. COME ON LEGO IT WOULD EDUCATE YOUR YOUNG AUDIENCE ON PTSD, ANXIETY AND HOW TO HEALTHILY DEAL WITH YOUR PROBLEMS. Because right now, if you wanna deal with issues the ninja way, YOU BURY THEM AND TAKE THEM TO THE GRAVE AND YOU NEVER COMPLAIN OR REST.

All I want is at least one episode where it’s not all about the current bad guy or plot and it’s just about the ninja actually confiding in one another and trying to help their friends out. Maybe Zane or Lloyd finally snap and have a full mental breakdown and the only way to deal with it is for them to actually talk about it and work it out. I’m sure you can make a compelling episode with that in mind. They’ve tried to address mental health in the show with Lloyds anxiety arc thing in DR they need to do better.

We need a scene in DR where Zane and Frohicky are at the monastery while the other ninja are doing stuff, (maybe I’ll work out the details more and write something on this) and something happens where all the pain and trauma and just, awfulness just builds up in Zane’s mind and he just. Has a moment where he cracks. And he stops working on whatever he’s working on. And Frohicky notices the shift in the air and suddenly his entire demeanour changes and he comes over concerned and Zane is standing there or kneeling and Frohicky puts his hand on his shoulder and asks. “Are you okay?” And Zane just doesn’t know how to respond. He tries to shake everything off but he can’t, he’s never been asked that before. And Frohicky starts babbling on trying to help him and offers to get him set up so he can rest, and Zane doesn’t have the strength to object or the will to say anything and he’s just like.

“I.. don’t know.” In a final response to the previous question. 

And it’s just a scene where Zane accepts Frohickys gesture of kindness. And while not everything is fixed obviously. You can slowly see the tension leaving him.

Because it matters if someone asks you if you’re okay. It reaches into the darkest place and offers a hand saying “I’ll listen.” And that could genuinely change someone’s life.

[yanderes-galore]

self aware Micah please and ty hehe

Sure! Thanks to this Anon for giving me ideas!

Yandere! Self-Aware! Micah Bell Concept

Pairing: Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Self-Aware yandere, Violence, Blood, Forced "relationship".

This is an interesting case, as self aware characters are usually protagonists.

Characters such as Arthur, John, and Jack are the ones who have the closest connection to their player.

But Micah?

Micah is an NPC, the only connection he has to you is how you interact with him through Arthur, your host character.

In fact, what would make this more interesting is Arthur being aware too, even if he isn't obsessed.

Arthur may be aware that he is the connection you have between his world and yours.

Although, he probably thinks he's the only one who knows of you.

Turns out he isn't.

Micah seems to be the only other one who senses your presence.

Which, of course, leads to some anomalies in your playthrough.

In a strange way... having a self-aware yandere could be interesting if you've already done a playthrough.

At the same time... It's unnerving as there's no rational explanation for it.

Micah definitely takes center stage more often than you remember.

Yeah, maybe it's been awhile since you played the game but...

Did Micah interact with Arthur this much?

It's all oddly subtle things.

Micah starts showing up more at Arthur's tent is one example.

You recall Micah being around Dutch more often.

Yet once you save him from Strawberry, he stays by Arthur's tent.

You may notice Micah's derogatory pet names occur more often...

In response, you may even hear Arthur respond more harshly if he's also aware.

It's all changes that you can probably write off...

Until Micah starts deciding to change the story.

Imagine if Micah began changing whole events?

It's everything from removing characters to altering entire quests.

Other characters don't give you requests, sometimes they don't even talk to you/Arthur.

Know who does? Micah.

He gives you requests, he talks to you, the entire time he tries to be as sweet as can be to you.

I feel it would be easier for Micah to take control if Arthur wasn't aware.

If Arthur was merely a husk you use to play the game, Micah has free reign.

If he isn't? Arthur and Micah no doubt fight for control of the narrative.

For this concept, I'll just say Arthur isn't aware like Micah to keep it simple.

Micah, like any self-aware character, will slowly begin to control the game more and more.

He blocks entire quest lines, he often challenges you to five finger fillet, he quickly makes himself the center of your attention.

Micah definitely notices if you prefer other characters over him.

Which means he either makes you unable to interact with them... or gets rid of them.

For example, maybe you like Sean?

Suddenly you're in Rhodes during the mission he dies in... With Micah right beside you.

Do you like Javier?

Well now you can't interact with him... and he's never at camp.

While protagonists usually keep their changes to a minimum...

Micah doesn't mind straight up messing with the narrative.

Once he knows this is all a game, it's his game now.

No matter how much you try to uninstall/reinstall, turn your set up off and on...

The changes Micah made remain.

If you leave for an extended amount of time... Micah may just force the game open.

He no doubt sees you through the screen, too.

Micah's always trying to keep an eye on you...

He likes to mess with the game so you're aware of his presence.

He hopes deep down you know it's him doing all this.

How could you not?

Micah's always by your side during the strange events.

He's always grinning, calling you nicknames.

He's so sweet on you...

He just wishes you were here and not Arthur...

I feel there would be more and more changes until soon... There's no one left.

You log into your save one day and the camp is empty.

There's no one there... perhaps even blood surrounding the area.

You use Arthur to walk around... Only to find Micah following you.

You try to pull a weapon, Arthur doesn't listen.

You try to interact... nothing.

Yet Micah responds just fine.

"How ya doin', sweetheart? Like what I've done with the place?"

You try to tell yourself you're dreaming, this isn't real.

Micah simply grins, as if knowing your shock.

"Don't worry, darlin'... You'll love it. In fact, I made one more surprise. You'll see it soon."

By this point you shut off the device and try never opening the PC again.

Unfortunately... when you go to sleep one night...

You don't wake up at home.

You wake up at that bloody camp from the game...

With Micah standing over you, a wicked grin on his face.

"Mornin', love... Sleep well?"

It all feels like some fever dream.

Yet when Micah pulls you to your feet, it feels too weird.

You try to reason with yourself, maybe there was an accident?

But Micah teaches you this is all real... pulling you close as his lips ghost over your own.

"I've been waiting for you..."

His voice is a purr, caressing your cheek with a possessive grip.

"Now it's time for the real fun to begin, isn't it?"

Even the kiss he gives feels too real.

[10000year-old-child]

The fanfics of Shen Jiu and Shen Yuan as siblings strongly reminds me of Shi Wudu and Shi Qingxuan from TGCF. Imagine if the reason Shen Jiu was reborn as a slave was because of his previous actions/ death as Shi Wudu and is given the worst of luck (misfortune follows him). Which is why Shen Yuan was taken from him to be raised in a softer, more comfortable world because he obviously suffered hardships at the end of his life as Shi Qingxuan.

Also if He Xuan was reborn as Luo Binghe. you know, the protagonist. who is also a heavenly demon (former ghost king, anyone?). Who has all the fortune in the world protecting him and forcing him to progress forward no matter what.

Shen Yuan becomes obsessed with Luo Binghe. he cheers him on and becomes his no. 1 fan. enjoying his progress and journey. He feels strangely connected to the character. (He wants to see him progress because the guilt of stealing his fate still lingers). Meanwhile, Luo Binghe the cold, vengeful heavenly demon who is put on the scholarly peak feels empty inside 24/7 develops an obsession with Shen Yuan almost instantly after his transmigration. An obsession that changes his entire cruel demeanor and he doesn't know why either but Shen Yuan (Shen Qingqiu) is otherworldly and perfect and he must make sure all his needs and wants are met. (He also wants to see him happy because he feels like he ruined the last good thing remaining in his previous life. He is Lowkey guilty about it)

Shen Jiu (Shi Wudu) was once offered the chance to redeem them both, bury old wounds and start over with Luo Binghe as his student. But he could never shake the uncomfortable feeling he gets from the little beast. After their last disastrous life where he dies as Shen Qingqiu in the water prison he is offered the option to return but this time give his previous younger brother the chance to try instead. While Shen Jiu would be taken some other world to start over (obviously he suffered enough) maybe he'd take his brother's place in the modern world or some other new place. He feels bitter about it but he eventually accepts it.

In a way they were all given EXACTLY what they wanted. Shi Wudu was given another chance, and obviously his brother was the safest he could possibly be as Shen Yuan, He Xuan got to be a one in a billion kind of talent with unlimited fortune, luck, strength and fate protecting him and got to have a chance at being a renewed Scholar in a cultivation sect not to mention his 3000+ wives (all the women he could protect). Shen Yuan got a break from his brother and well everyone and everything for a half lifetime, until he got to be with Luo Binghe again. Somehow it all worked out!

[inthemaelstrom]

So we're about six weeks out from another "most important election of my lifetime" and it's predictably making me literally sick to my stomach. When Trumpacabra got elected in 2016, I threw myself into politics in a way I never had in my lifetime and it almost wrecked me. I was one of those people who never voted for religious reasons (long, separate story) and I felt I had to make up for lost time. By the time 2020 rolled around, I was an unhealthy mess. I had stopped reading. Everything. When I wasn't watching MSNBC and political commentators obsessively, I started consuming absolute junk TV: home improvement shows, crack paranormal ghost hunter crap, etc. Things with no plot, no emotional investment, no danger. No fear.

Right before the 2020 election, old fanfic friends from my days in the Master and Apprentice Star Wars listserv found me and saved me.

They dragged me back into fandom, introduced me to Discord, and got me writing again. I updated a story I hadn't touched in 5 years. I made new friends online and in RL. I got some great fiction and fic recs from those friends and discovered a subgenre called Hopepunk—low stakes fiction with very little if any violence and fear and with happy endings. (Becky Chambers writes a lot of what I read, and Amy Crook has also become a favorite.)

One morning, I had one of those really vivid, realistic, linear plot dreams that literally dragged me out of bed to the keyboard. It was a meet-cute modern au of The Phantom Menace's characters, set in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan. I cranked out about 2000 words the first day. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. Then another 2000. And so on every damn day for the next four years until I had four novels, about 668k words, several timestamps written by three other collaborators who've come on board, some beautiful art I've been allowed to use, and now a fifth book in the works.

This is the Yooperverse.

It's not just The Fic That Saved Me, it's the place where I'm writing a vision of what the world could be like into being. A place where people with fucking obscene amounts of money don't spend it on themselves, or hoard it, or exploit other people to get more, but use it to help other people. It's a place where people who are bigoted dicks either get their comeuppance and crawl back under their rocks, or learn better and do better. It's a place where abused kids get rescued, everybody gets therapy and healthcare and is paid a living wage, people learn to value themselves and each other, and protect each other and defend each other. It's kinky and queer (although I'm neither) and above all, if not entirely safe to be both, I'm trying to write both things as just being another setting on the dryer. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

It's not a utopia, by any means, because there are still assholes and the government is still ... the government, and capitalism is still a thing. There's some danger, especially in the first book, and there are accidents and illnesses and the vagaries of life. In the middle of the series, I had spinal surgery and was out of commission for a few months and that made me start thinking more about my main character dealing with aging and the limitations thereof. There's a LOT of mental health issues and the working through thereof, and a lot of ongoing process. Nobody's perfect. The world outside is still pretty much what it is. But in the little corners where my characters dwell, life is pretty dang good, sometimes great.

It's a vision of a life we all deserve. It's the thing I loved about Star Trek's universe, where people's basic needs are cared for and the obstacles to them developing their best selves removed. It's what I've loved about science fiction in general, especially Ursula LeGuin's: that opportunity to explore possibilities that are better than the present. It's modeled on the MacArthur Genius grants, but you don't have to prove your worthiness first. My main character invests in people's potential, young or old, with scholarships and grants and a steadying hand. His partner builds low or no-cost housing for people in need. There's an informal network of queer and straight kid rescuing going on under the noses of unfriendly governments and failed social service safety nets. The main characters build refuges, literal and emotional. They love each other fiercely and respectfully.

Right now, we're living in a country that is almost the antithesis of these ideas, for far too many of us. People are being manipulated by their fears, which are stoked by unscrupulous, lying shitbag politicians whose all too real evil would never make it past the pitch if you were going to try to sell it as a TV show or movie. They're consciously turning us on each other with lies about our common humanity, about the state of our country, about who and what's responsible for many of its faults, sewing suspicion and hate. And though the Yooperverse started as my personal comfort fic, I'm trying in my very small way to counteract what's happening in the world right now.

I've always believed in the power of story to change people's minds and lives, and I've experienced it myself. When I talk about story, I don't just mean fiction, though. I mean the narratives we tell ourselves and others about our own lives as a whole and day by day or moment by moment. I mean the stories we tell about each other when we're together, at the bar, at wakes, at a party. I mean the stories we invest in as fans in whatever kind of media we consume. I mean the stories we spin for ourselves and others to explain what the everloving fuck is wrong with the world.

Stories aren't separate from the world, they are the world. They tell it into being. They give it shape and purpose and meaning and a sense of possibility. Whatever stories we tell ourselves or each other about how things should be or how we should act as human beings (also called our "beliefs" or "morals" or "ethics"), they shape us, and we shape society. We are society, both together and as individuals. One person with a big voice and a story can tip a mass of people into either violence or solidarity.

I have no illusions that the Yooperverse will ever have that kind of power. It has a tiny audience on AO3 and Discord and it's mostly written for me to explore the things I feel deeply about, and wish I could do, and to teach myself to be a better person and live up to my own ideals. It's a world I'd like to manifest, to call into being, even in a small way. Even if it's just a story.

[thelosers-club]

HELLO so I heard people talkimg about Stan having OCD and I just really really needed to clear up misconceptions about OCD and Stans character so if you like stan uris or mental health studies at all this might be fun to read for you

none of this is like drama relatef at all it was just a fun little thing i wanted to do so i could learn about mental health and my favorite characters at the same time

sorry if none of this makes sense i wrote it all in one go at 2am (feel free to add any info you want or clear up anything i might've explained poorly)

This started because I was sick anf tired of people saying stan has ocd because that just doesnt make sense towards any canon material (If you want to headcanon him as it, that’s fine, but please read through this so you can do it more accurately) and it seemed to be just a dramatic stereotyping of what OCD is.

After doing research, reading the literal DSM’s sections on OCD, I’ve come to the conclusion that: I was right, Stan very very much does NOT have OCD.

People said he has it because in IT 2017, he makes sure to clean the windows properly, and in the book he has germaphobia. That’s about it. I looked at other things I tried to find as evidence for him having OCD, but I couldn’t find anything else that fit. And this is not a case of opinion because I like to be as absolutely objective as possible in these types of things and see no point in anything otherwise

So anyway, I’ll try to put this all simply because if I get too complicated I’m gonna get lost and this will turn into a rant on literally anything because currently I’m unmedicated for my adhd

Why does Stan not have OCD? To put it simply, he does not fit any of the criteria. I do think he has germaphobia, but I believe that to be part of his autism (as it’s very, very common in autism) and/or anxiety.

To delve into that a liittle bit more, the OCD criteria is this:

A. obsessions or compulsions, such as recurrent and persistent thoughts, impulses, images, that are, at some point, intrusive and inappropriate and cause distress. the thoughts, impulses, or images are not simply excessive worries about real life problems. the person attempts to ignore/suppress such thoughts as to neutralize them with some other thought or action.

Thinking back on the book, which is what I like to adhere to as much as possible, Stan does not have these thoughts recurrently enough that it is affecting his life. I can see that he has a fear of dirt and ick which sometimes spikes when he’s stressed, but otherwise he is able to go through his day to day life easily enough with these thoughts.

Other diagnostic criteria to fill up the cracks in this is that the obsessions or compulsions must be time consuming (taking up more than 1 hour a day) or significantly interfere with the person’s normal routine and functioning, or social activities or relationships. Stan is not shown doing things like this repeatedly and, in my mind when I try to follow stephen king’s writing and ideas as much as I possibly can, I do not think he would if the book were longer either.

But, I very much think these traits are there; And they fit perfectly into autism traits. I think right now is a good time to note that autism gets mixed up as OCD quite a bit because they have overlapping traits.

Now to defend my case for why he might have Autism;

He acts to put it quite simply, insanely fucking autistic. Alllll the fucking time. That man is incredibly autistic there is no denying this

His whole character is set on the fact that he is a very black and white person, very very rigid, and you can’t deny it because he literally killed himself over finding out he was wrong about the guidelines and rules he made up for the world. he is so autistic

A common trait of autism is having an abnormal way of speaking, like a weird rhythm, and Stan’s tone WAS described as pleasant but it was also described as abnormal and such..

Look at how much he likes birds. it feels a little obvious to me here lol

the meltdowns he’s had because, again, his routine and rules were interrupted

He was insanely good at math/accounting which I think also has to do with the need for rules he has, math is ruled and never changes 4+4 will always be 8 yada yada

Also stan just in my headcanon world has very very limited romantic and platonic feelings and I think thats common in autistic folks because we’re so different from other people

anyways im tired and i think you all get it by now if youve watched any of the movies or read the book Stan acts quite autistic. i swear im not self projecting pleas

[nunalastor]

Guy / Serial Roommates

Anonymous asked:

Goes anyone else get mixed-vibes about Guy? I don't know what he's meant to look like but I always imagine dark hair, dark grey eyes, and tan skin. Like he might be white-passing but there is some Asian in there somewhere.

Anonymous asked:

Vox finds out about Guy and what he hears makes him think that Guy is Alastor's lover. There's no way Alastor suffered through all that for just a friend, right? And that would explain in Vox's head why Alastor rejected him if his heart belonged to someone else.

Guy and Alastor find out about that false impression and do the crazy cross-eyed laugh together.

Anonymous asked:

Serial Roommates Plot Twist: Guy is miserable in heaven (he and Al are friends for a reason) but convinced himself if Alastor is there, everything will be okay and they can fix all the problems together. Part of him knows he is more alive in hell and so is Alastor, but preconceived notions of what heaven and hell are meant to be makes him think helping people leave hell is best. Either way he acts as a therapist to give others the kindness and grace about mental health he couldn’t find in heaven.

Anonymous asked:

At this point, every demon with a brain knows it would be suicide to kidnap or hurt Guy. It reminds me of this episode of Superman of a plane being hijacked and Lois Lane is on it. When she tells them her name they’re like, the one Superman always saves?!

Imagine that with Guy? He just let his would be murderers know his name and they instantly know, they fucked up. By then it’s too late and they hear the screeching of an elk and radio static.

Anonymous asked:

The combination of Guy dying from cancer or some other sickness and Alastor still dying first is so painful! He would need the support of a friend, but one day Alastor never came home from his hunt and Guy was left to suffer and die alone. Any comfort he could have in reuniting with him after death also destroyed when he finds out he went to heaven and Alastor went to hell.

Anonymous asked:

Oh! Guy has a death now! It makes sense for disease to do him in, nobody in the cast we know of died of illness and after looking up images of the Bakers Estate that looks like somewhere someone would get all the diseases, mold cure or not.

Buckshot Anon, your time has come!

Anonymous asked:

What characters do y'all think Guy and Llewella would play in the DnD AU? I imagine the two of them being guest party members who only occasionally join the main group.

Also, Cherri Bomb takes over playing Sir Pentious's character after he dies.

Anonymous asked:

Currently obsessed with the song Albi by Sevdaliza and it gave me of the idea of genderbend Alastor and Guy.

Guy would still work for the police but possibly a matron or secretary. (Who knows maybe still an officer cause I just googled and apparently the first female cop was in the 1908) So her focus would be focused on women. So when she learns her roommate is killing the abusers, rapists and other killers; of course she’s going to support her.

Can you remember when the last time was

You felt safe in the dark?

This world was never meant for a woman's heart

But still, you rise through it all

When I'm out of breath, she's my vitals

When I need to rev, she's my ride-or-die

When I'm out of faith, she's my idol

I just killed a man, she's my alibi

Anonymous asked:

Can we all agree that if Guy were to fall for whatever reason, his demon form would be legitimately horrifying? His base form would probably look mostly human like Alastor (didn’t we say he had some dog traits, like he is to dogs what Alastor is to deer?) but going into his full demon form would tap into the mold he was infected with for months in the Baker Estate and become something grotesque. Shit like his burned away angel wings regenerating comprised entirely of the mold. That, and if he died of cancer related to his exposure to the mold, what is a more fucked up demon form to have than that of the thing that caused your torture, possession, and later slow death? 

Anonymous asked:

Alastor's suitors: *kidnap Guy for yandere reasons*

Guy: ROOKIE NUMBERS