#trial entrances

[inafieldofdaisies]

[dkniade]

Childe’s Story Quest: theme, storytelling, form follows function

Content Warning: self-destructive behaviour, mentions freezing and mutilation

Spoilers for the entire quest.

—

Showing both Teucer’s and Tartaglia’s perspectives throughout the quest sure reveals more about Tartaglia.

The quest on so many levels conveys its theme: the divided perspectives between a naive childhood lens and a disillusioned (??) adult lens.

One is unknowingly caught in a wonderful yet deceiving story (the tone and form), the other sees reality for what it is but tries to maintain innocent childhood dreams with these stories (the content and meaning).

Tartaglia was once the former, and is now the latter.

—

For example during the hide and seek cutscene, the tone set by the soundtrack “Foul Legacy” and the flashy cinematography & visual effects is very adventurous (in an anime way).

This is how Teucer views Tartaglia. (Teucer literally shuts his eyes and thinks it’s all a game.)

But the reality of the situation is shown moments before, where we see Tartaglia looking all soft and mortal against the dangerous Ruin Guards right behind him. Like, if you didn’t know what the game is, you’d think this is a moment of dramatic irony where the boy is gonna die because he doesn’t seem to notice the big scary automaton right behind him.

And it’s not that he’s weak in general, but in this specific moment he just defeated a few dangerous automatons, and he’s about to use his physically draining technique to fight off even more of them under the limit of ten seconds—all for the sake of protecting his kid brother’s innocent dream.

—

But really, this divide between childhood and adulthood is shown straight from the beginning. And I think the whole quest could be summed up with that nursery rhyme:

拉钩拉钩不许变，变了丢他去冰川。冰川冷，雪原寒，撒谎的舌头都冻烂！

The Chinese rhyme scheme is ABCBB.

Literally speaking it’s

Pinkie promise, pinkie promise, [you’re] not allowed to change [it], change [it and we] throw him [onto] the glacier. The glacier [is] cold, the snowfield [is] cold, lying tongues all freeze [and] rot!

(Note that 丢 is a verb that could either mean to throw away or abandon [something physical or abstract]. The syntax here is a bit odd because it’s a nursery rhyme. 丢他去冰川 doesn’t have a preposition so I’m not sure if it’d be “throw him onto the glacier” or “throw him into the glacier’s river”. Also, 冷 and 寒 are two different adjectives that both mean cold, essentially.)

But if I try to rhyme it with a bit of rhythm then it could be something like

Pinkie promise, pinkie promise, you’re not allowed to change it. He who goes back on his words gets thrown onto the glacier. The glacier’s cold, and so’s the snow. The tongues that lie shall freeze and rot.

English dub equivalent:

You make a pinkie promise, you keep it all your life. You break a pinkie promise, I throw you on the ice. The cold will kill the pinkie that once betrayed your friend, the frost will freeze your tongue off so you never lie again.

Rhythmically and tonally it sounds like a fun and naive nursery rhyme (emphasized when the innocent Teucer first says it at the start)—but the content is about the fatal consequence of breaking a promise… especially as a Snezhnayan (emphasized when the traveler and Tartaglia repeat at the end after the near fatal situation in the factory).

Ohh, so a character’s theme could also be done this way.

—

In hindsight as I was explaining how 丢 could refer to throwing away something physical (e.g. an object) or abstract (e.g. dreams), the person in the nursery rhyme could easily be a stand-in for childhood dreams, huh…

A childhood dream that promises to never change, but ends up changing anyway, so it gets abandoned at the glacier and is left to freeze…

拉钩拉钩不许变，变了丢他去冰川。冰川冷，雪原寒，撒谎的舌头都冻烂！

As Paimon says, “Wow... That one nursery rhyme kinda says all you need to know about Snezhnayan culture…”

Miscellaneous first reactions of third act

Teucer takes the path straight into the factory but the door immediately closes, so Childe is forced to enter from the side with a more difficult path

What goes into a world of danger and unknowingly get trapped? What has to use more lopsided methods to sneak in just to protect… Teucer symbolizes childhood innocence, and Childe is adulthood?

Hm, that overhead shot of tiny Teucer running into the factory with Childe and Traveler watching from higher grounds behind bars— It’s like Childe watching his younger self… rushing into the forest and into the abyss? Oh, and consistently Childe is forced to take the dangerous route and face all the difficulties while being unable to reach Teucer.

aw…

Paimon and the traveller witnessing Childe’s moment of vulnerability yet still needing to keep up the toysalesman illusion to Teucer in the domain is…

(Actually, this feels similar to Thelxie’s Fantastic Adventure where Zuria is optimistic about the plan and Freminet later pulls the two aside to tell them the truth about the condition)

Well, both have the theme of keeping up childhood dreams with stories don’t they

Wanting to keep up the illusion longer and not wanting to let Teucer see his weak side of him, huh…

Yet still wanting to fight the traveler in the future despite still recovering from a serious injury. What kind of self-destructive tendency is this

Ah, the idea of meeting Childe in his home turf is interesting considering Snezhnaya is so far from Liyue

It’s all so sad. Why does he trust the traveler this much even though they’re on opposite sides and fought in the Liyue archon quest not long ago

[newtish250]

more scorch trials stuff

“Dude, if those shuck WICKED people wanted her dead, she’d be rottin’ under a big pile of rocks.” -Minho about Teresa

Well… we all know what happens to her don’t we?

“We should’ve stopped a couple hours ago to get some sleep. But thanks to Mr. Desert runner down here..” - Minho to Thomas

Thomas is Mr. Desert runner

Then, to Thomas’s utter disbelief, the man jumped through the jagged hole in the ceilings, falling toward them. At the last second, he crumpled into a human ball and rolled three times, then sprang up and landed on his feet. - About Jorge

Are we just going to ignore his entrance!?

[zazzander]

I just realised why Camp Jupiter is seperate from New Rome. It's for training. It's so they get attacked. It's to keep them vigilant. Camp Half-Blood is a safe haven where you learn to fight. Camp Jupiter is getting thrown into the gladiator pit and being told to literally "conquer or die". They aren't supposed to be safe. They're suppose to fight for their lives for ten years straight and then they've proved themselves good enough to be safe.

[kafus]

i remembered people shipping hau and gladion back when i was in high school but it’s been so long i kinda forgot Why, and replaying this game already has made it Very Clear to me as to why LOL it’s so funny how hau is just completely impervious to gladion’s emo energy (as an aside i think it’s really funny how gladion talks about the battle royal dome in the same fashion as drinking sorrows away irt alcohol 😭)

also i WON the tutorial battle royal and they didn’t give me anything for winning SMH. i took out a pokemon on the one permitted turn and no one else did and no one acknowledged it. like was i not supposed to be able to win or something LMAO

oh yeah and i forgot to post this yesterday, look at how much money i made off of pearl items while fishing for that fucking mareanie LMAOO the series of bad luck was crazy

man you don’t even know the start of it sir

[citrine-elephant]

the warden, but after the mace is introduced and gets its enchantments, a player who decides to power slam one..... enters a new dimension....

[kotaerukoto]

chat I'm asking this seriously genuinely for realsies what did Junko mean by this

[lunar-wandering]

Decided that before i go to bed id show yall the dresses i drew based on a moodboard in the fashion class i had today

[batmanq]

“Hello noses!!” SSCARIEST SHITTWUGKSKGNAK

[mightaswelljxmp]

hm ok so interestingly, bdubs’s courthouse is built on an odd number of blocks. note the roof of the facade coming to a point, but more importantly, the nine pillars….

you don’t use an odd number of pillars. like ever.

let me get this out of the way first: i get why you’d build with odd numbers in minecraft. i usually do it myself, to not run into problems like double doors or two-wide pointed roofs or frustrating spacing/symmetry between decorative elements. however. to not even out the design of something so unequivocally done in every other example of columns and pillars…. fascinating implications…

every other example guys. every other building with columns like this has an even number of them.

doing so sets the line of symmetry at an invisible point between two pillars, an even number on each side. but an odd total number of pillars makes the central pillar itself the line of symmetry. this does a couple things.

one, it upends the sense of community and equality. which i know sounds crazy, but really, a group of columns are all put there to hold up a structure. there’s no focus on one because they are all are working as supports.

symbolically, at least when first used in ancient greece, pillars represented people. and it makes sense for courthouses, especially, to want to show an even, fair, equal number of people on each side. no focus on any one, no inherent bias right off the bat just looking at it.

with an odd number of pillars, though, one will always be placed front and center.

and THEN. and then you walk in the courtroom itself (also odd-numbered blocks) and you are immediately opposite the judge, bdubs, located exactly centrally. and true, courtrooms are often set up like this anyway. but bdubs ups the ante and reaffirms that no, focus is on him by staging it all as a daytime court show, boom mic just over his head, cameras pointed in, spotlights on him.

literally by design, it was not built for justice. it’s built for show, for entertainment. and just look at the credits to know exactly what sort of message you’re supposed to be getting from this show.

the biblical story he used, with king solomon. it’s about king solomon. isn’t really about the trial itself, or the babies, or the women. it’s about showing (off) how wise and just he is. that’s the point. hm. interesting.

now, getting to the second point that etho also picked up on: it feels like a prison.

it’s not just the color palette. when your eyes naturally draw to the center point, you aren’t seeing an open space. instead of feeling like an arch or gateway or otherwise some kind of opening, the pillar there makes it feel closed off. the overall effect is that of prison bars. not pillars lining the entrance to a place of order or a temple. bars of a cage, a cell.

imagine the lincoln memorial were set up with 11 or 13 pillars. he’d look so much more trapped in there.

having a central pillar blocks the entrance. it’s not welcoming. you have to go around it; it’s immediately inconveniencing you. and when you go to leave, it’s there blocking you again.

this courthouse was not designed and built to be fair, nor accomodating, nor equitable, on any terms. even if unintentional, i wouldn’t call it so much coincidental as i would… subconscious.

after all, y’know. form follows function.

[meelkiewee]

The real trial chamber

Idk what came to me, it's very late at night and I just can't wait for the trial tomorrow. I saw some namemc spoilers around and tried to give my own interpretation idk guys idk I feel insane.

Ref and details under the cut.

What's very funny is the name of who posted the image and the name of cc!mumbo... sus ahah

Scar instructed Mumbo how to distract the judge, he's a bit nervous about the plan. (when is he not, honestly?)

Also Scar is definitely not sketching the entrance of his zoo instead of taking useful notes.

This is just my fav zoom in of the whole piece. Beef contemplating vengeance in the name of Big Salmon and Keralis just being himself.

Then XB with all the evidences and a good luck kiss from his lawyer (yk standard procedure) and Doc ALSO trying to seduce the judge but only distracting Ren in the back lol

There's also Grian laughing but we don't talk about him. He came out uglee.

Hope you feel insane too after this post, bye.

[sunniques]

— lascivious addiction

cw/tw: hoon is still mean and manipulative, jealousy, possessiveness, daddy kink, size kink, exhibitionism, voyeurism, fingering, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie

pt2 to this. minors do not interact.

Your face is hot as you press it against Sunghoon’s pillow. The cool air is hitting your cunt, and you can feel how wet you already are. Being bent over and spread out is embarrassing, but for some sick reason it only turns you on.

“See this?” Sunghoon says as he spreads your ass, giving the four people an unobstructed view of your pretty holes. “This is mine.”

You cry out when he slaps your pussy. More arousal drips out of you, and the groans coming from behind you make you clench around nothing. Sunghoon eases two fingers into your tight pussy, smirking when you whine out his name. His other hand trials up your naked body until it's latching onto your hair. He roughly yanks your head back as he curls his long fingers into your most sensitive spot.

“Isn’t that right, angel?”

“Yes!” You mewl, moving your hips to fuck his fingers deeper into your pussy.

“Yes, what?”

Your face is burning, but you feel too good to not give into Sunghoon's indirect request. “Yes, daddy!”

The groans and dark laughs make you tighten around Sunghoon’s fingers. He lets go of your hair to caress your ass, tossing a smirk to his depraved friends and your friend that lended you two her room last week. It’s so funny. Your friend has a neutral face, but anyone can tell she’s entranced by the way your little hole sucks in his fingers greedily. Heeseung has a filthy smirk on his face that shows no trace of shame or anything close to it. Jake’s face is bright red, but he can’t look away despite how embarrassed he feels. And Jay’s dark gaze is intently fixed on your dripping pussy like it’s the prettiest thing in the world.

All of the men in the room are hard. Painfully hard.

Sunghoon is so mean. They all know he’s doing this to show off and to make them suffer. Forcing his friends to look at something they’ll never have is like sweet torture for them and thrilling for the man fucking his fingers into you. Sunghoon’s boner is starting to hurt from how much he's enjoying this. Just knowing that all his horny friends are so close to the tight little holes they’ll never touch, lick, or fuck has his thick cock straining against his pants.

Long fingers work your pussy just right to get you nice and soaked, and all you can do is mewl and whine into Sunghoon’s fluffy pillow. Everyone in the room can hear how wet you are. The lewd squelching coming from your stuffed cunt is mixing in with your needy moans loudly and obscenely.

Sunghoon bites his lip when your legs start to tremble. You’re so hot, and the fact that you’re willing to go along with all his filthy desires makes you even hotter. When he sees you fisting his sheets, thinks he’s teased you long enough. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out to let everyone watch how your tight little pussy tries to suck them back in before clenching around nothing. Sunghoon doesn’t bother to stifle his mean laughter when he sees his friends squirming.

It’s hard for the guys to ignore the way their cocks are throbbing in their pants. You’re so fucking pretty, and they can see how tight you are which only makes everything so much harder—literally.

“Think you deserve my cock?”

Heeseung wants to answer for you because damn it if you aren’t the epitome of a good girl. You’re so desperate and needy and exactly his type.

“Yes, daddy,” you moan, too turned on to be embarrassed anymore. “I’ve been such a good girl for you.”

“Has she?” Sunghoon directs his question to his friends.

Jay swallows thickly before responding in a hoarse voice. “Fuck yeah.”

Sunghoon hums before finally deciding that his dick is starting to hurt a little too much. So he manhandles you until you’re facing the other four people in the room with your pretty ass up in the air. He gets behind you and quickly gets his dick out of his pants. For a while, he slaps and slides his cock against your slippery pussy. He can tell everyone is getting impatient, but he doesn’t give in so easily. Not when he’s having so much fun.

Your friend feels stupid and fucking nasty. After coming back and literally finding you getting rawed on her bed, she never thought she’d speak to you or Sunghoon again. But when that pretty face asked her to wait outside while he finished using your little pussy, she agreed without fully thinking it through. That night, she was forced to listen to your wanton moans and Sunghoon’s filthy words as he fucked your brains out.

When Sunghoon reached out to her again, she didn’t imagine it would be for this. And once again, she agreed to participate before fully thinking it through.

Finally, Sunghoon grabs your hair and yanks your head up, forcing you to lift your body and press your naked back against his chest. All three of his friends groan at the sights of your pretty tits. God, do you look amazing.

Sunghoon grabs your chin and forces your face forward to make sure you don't stop looking at them. Goosebumps cover your skin when he whispers in your ear: “Let’s give them a nice show, baby.”

Everyone remains silent as Sunghoon pushes his massive cock into you. The way your cute little cunt is stretching beyond belief to accommodate his dick looks painful, and none of them have ever seen a hotter sight. Your moan is loud and nasty—downright pornstar worthy.

Sunghoon smirks at his friends before biting down on your neck and roughly fucking his cock into your hot cunt. You cry out loudly, pussy pulsing from being split open and the heated gazes on you.

None of the men move to touch themselves even though they desperately want to. This is their punishment for Heeseung trying to covet something that is clearly not his. Jay and Jake were mostly there as collateral damage, but Sunghoon always made sure to cover all his bases. It was also the perfect opportunity for him to make sure you sever all ties with the one person who almost stopped him from having you.

Now they were forced to listen to your sweet moans. Moans that each one of his friends want all to themselves. Every one of them wants to split you open, to absolutely ruin you. What they wouldn’t give to be able to take Sunghoon’s place. To be the ones to make you beg, make you cry, make you cum. 

But since it’s a punishment, all they can do is watch.

“Daddy, harder!” You beg, moving your hips to meet Sunghoon's rough thrusts.

The way you arch your back and moan louder is so filthy and hot—fucking obscene. Just like Sunghoon ordered you to do. And damn it if you aren’t putting on a filthy show. One that’s making him so, so proud.

Once again, your friend is the victim of jealousy and shameful arousal. You look so good getting split open by Sunghoon’s fat cock. He’s so rough, and she can tell it feels so good because his cock is covered with your cream. She’s not sure who to feel more jealous of at this point, and all she can do is squeeze her thighs together to relieve the ache in her ruined panties.

“You’re going to break her, Hoon,” Jay groans, eyeing your messy pussy as his friend’s heavy balls slap against it with every thrust.

“That tiny pussy can take it,” Heeseung says as he licks his lips. “Fuck. Just look at how it’s stretching open.”

“God, Y/N,” Jake whimpers, looking something between guilty and horny. It’s cute. 

Sunghoon laughs against your neck. “Hear that, baby? The boys love how nasty you are. Why don’t you be a good girl and show them how pretty you look when you cream all over this cock?”

And so they watch with envy as you convulse and squirt all over Sunghoon’s girthy cock. They don’t take their eyes off of you even as you desperately ride out your orgasm until he shoots a thick, creamy load deep inside your pussy. He fucks it back into you, loving the feeling of your mixed cum dripping down to his heavy sac.

The room is permeated with the musky smell of sex. It’s all so erotic that the three boys are close to cumming in their pants. But they control themselves and savor the sight of Sunghoon slowly pulling out of you. Cum slowly drips out of your messy pussy and onto the sheets. 

“Don’t think we’re done yet, baby. These idiots still haven’t learned their lesson.”

[psqqa]

dahlia: from the moment i first laid eyes on my feenie, i knew it was love

mia: *michael bluth voice* him?

[yandere-daydreams]

Not-So-Scary Moments With The Yan. Genshin Boys (Sumeru + Fontaine Edition).

Characters: Alhaitham, Neuvillette, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, and Wriothesley.

Word Count: 2.7k.

TW: Borderline Shitposting, Prolonged Imprisonment, Varying Levels of Emotional and Physical Abuse, Codependency, Mentions of Stalking, and Unhealthy Relationships.

Alhaitham

It took Alhaitham about ten minutes to drag himself out of bed, his staggered footsteps audible through the thin walls of his apartment.

It took twenty for him to haul himself through his morning routine – water running somewhere in the distance and porcelain clattering against marble countertops as he washed his face and tried to work some life into himself. Alhaitham usually wasn’t so lethargic, but he’d had a rough week. There’d been a sudden influx of paperwork for the Akademiya’s sole scribe, and every second he didn’t spend buried under new legislation and requests for increased budging was, instead, dedicated to one of his many personal research projects. By the time he’d gotten home last night, it’d been all he could do to make sure you hadn’t starved to death and drag himself to bed.

He usually would’ve kept you waiting for a few more minutes, but an agitated grunt marked an end to his normal patterns. In a moment, he was braced against the doorway to his own study, his eyes narrowed half-hearted towards where you sat in his leather-padded chair, your feet propped on his desk. There was an book open in your lap – one of his, something about metaphysics and ley line abnormalities and how both tied into the Inazuman politics. He eyed it wearily before speaking, his voice still deep with exhaustion. “Where did you put my hearing aids?”

His tone was accusatory, his irritation visible. You put on your sweetest smile. “Where did you put my novellas?” you signed, thinking for a moment before adding, “Bitch?”

“They aren’t ‘novellas’, they’re—” He cut himself off with a scoff. “They’re filth. I don’t want you rotting your brain with smut.”

“The plots are very—”

“The plots are half-baked excuses for paper-thin characters to fondle each other in locations you can tell the author didn’t take the time to properly research and—” His gaze flickered to you, his frown deepening. “Why are you smiling like that?”

“You’ve read them?”

There was a long beat of silence.

Finally, he let out a labored sigh. “The dozen or so I couldn’t be bothered to throw away are in a cabinet underneath the kitchen sink. It’s locked – the code is your birthday. Now, where are my aids?”

“You fell asleep with them on last night,” you said aloud, abandoning his glorified textbook and pushing yourself to your feet. His hand shot to the side of his head, finding the metallic cuff only slightly displaced by having spent the better half of the night on his head. As you passed him, you paused, pressing a kiss into the corner of his scowl and pretending to ignore the muffled groan he let out in response.

Neuvillette

Of all the sights you thought you might see after arriving in your wonderous new nation, the Iudex of Fontaine standing over your drained bathtub with a look of potent remorse written across his expression was not one of them.

You’d imagined yourself strolling through the walls of the Opera Epiclese in vivid detail, been able to picture exactly what you might’ve seen standing below the Tower of Ipsissimus or above the bottomless pit that was the entrance to the Fortress of Meropide, but even after you’d found yourself in the smothering care of Monsieur Neuvillette, you never would’ve been able to conjure this sight. He usually insisted that you bathe together, going so far as to have an in-ground tub that could’ve easily been mistaken for a hot spring installed in his (until recently neglected) personal residence to better indulge the habit. Thankfully, the trial he’d been presiding over had run long today, and you’d been able to save yourself an hour of his calloused hands running over your body, of his eyes burning into your skin with a nearly inhuman focus. You knew he’d be disappointed. Irate, even, depending on how his trial swung.

You hadn’t expected him to be so… sulky about it.

Half-lidded eyes, a slight pout tugging at the corner of his lips as he lingered idly in the doorway between your shared bedroom and the in-suite bathroom. Steam and silence laid heavy in the air – the latter you were eventually forced to break as you fiddled with the hem of your robe. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, hoping more to break the tension than to make him think you were genuinely apologetic. “It was getting late, and I didn’t know when you were coming home. I didn’t think you’d take it so personally.” When he didn’t respond, you braced yourself for the worst. “If you’re angry, please say so. I… I’d rather get this over with now, if it’s all the same to you.”

His expression softened. He let out an airy sigh and, with only a moment of hesitation, closed the space between you. “I’m not angry.” A pair of lean arms wrapped around your waist, his face soon buried in the crook of your neck. You heard him inhale, and did what you could to suppress the shudder that ran up your spine at the thought of him basking in your scent. “I’ve just been… looking forward to it, I suppose. Your taste relaxes me.”

Immediately, you went rigid. “My… taste?”

“Mhm.”

“Neuvillette,” you started, very slowly, giving your own mind time to catch up to the dread slowly building in the pit of your stomach. “Have you been drinking my bathwater?”

He was quiet for a not inconsiderable amount of time.

Finally, he pulled away from you just far enough to speak. “…no?”

For your own sake, you decided to believe him.

Kaveh

“Kaveh.”

“Not now, treasure.”

“Go to bed.”

“I will, in another hour.”

“You need to get some sleep.”

“I’ve already told you – I’m fine.” He narrowed his eyes, expression contorted by concentration. “Knight to B4.”

“Kaveh,” you repeated, leaning across the table. “You were showing me your blueprints.”

“Oh.” He blinked several times, looking over the sheet of blue paper marked with chalk drawings and near indecipherable hand-writing. “Were you impressed?”

Your frown irked, but you swallowed back your exasperation and pushed yourself to your feet. Slowly, you took him by the hand and, when he failed to protest, guided him out of his own seat and towards the room you were usually restrained to, when he wasn’t home. He’d kept himself awake for the past two nights, every moment of the past forty-eight hours devoted to finishing his proposal for a wealthy commissioner’s summer mansion before its upcoming deadline and, now that the coffee had been drained from his system and his adrenaline had been given time to fade, he was practically a shell of a man – all dark circles and hunched posture and disheveled blonde hair.

Sleep deprivation was, by far, the worst thing he could inflict on himself. At least he was happy after he drunk himself into oblivion. This was just depressing; as miserable for him as it was for you.

With a dutifulness you shouldn’t have had to show to your lover-turned-stalker-turned-captor, you brought him to his bed and watched as he collapsed onto it, what little strength he had to hold himself up immediately dissolving. With a sigh, a roll of your eyes, you turned to leave, but a hand lashed out from the crumpled heap and caught you by the wrist. “Stay with me?” His voice was muffled by layers of sheets and blankets, but clear enough. “Please?”

Usually, his bids for affection were met with bitter neutrality or, on your worse days, spiteful condensation. Usually, you would’ve torn yourself out of his hold and made sure he knew that he’d ruined any chance of living out his little domestic fantasy the second he decided his obsession was worth more than your happiness. Usually, you would’ve hated him that much more for daring to ask.

But, he could barely hold his eyes open and when you failed to immediately recoil, the sloppiest, most lovesick smile you’d ever seen plastered itself across his lips. It was his turn to pull you forward, this time; to drag you onto his bed and into his chest. With a satisfied sigh, he slotted his chin against the dip of your shoulder and draped his arms around your waist – an old position. A relic of better times you’d never been strong enough to completely dicard. “When it’s time to draw up the plans for our home,” he mumbled, only half-audible. “I won’t so much as breathe until its perfect.”

You opened your mouth, but didn’t say anything.

He’d already fallen asleep.

Tighnari

He glanced once at the thick packet of ink-marked parchment you’d slammed in front of him before looking back to you, his expression disparaging. “And this is supposed to be…?”

“A custody agreement,” you answered, grinning. “Alhaitham put it together during his last visit.”

“We don’t have any kids.”

“It’s for Collei. If I ever leave you,” and, to be clear, you would be leaving him, as soon as you figured out how to get away from a man who poisoned your tea whenever you so much as suggested entertaining a future that didn’t include him, “I want weekends and summers.”

“She’s nineteen.”

“Which is why we’re letting her pick who she wants to spend holidays with.” You tapped the front page with your knuckles. “Honestly, dear, if you weren’t going to so much as read the documents, we could’ve scheduled this for another day.”

His ears twitched, his tail sweeping across the floor in irritation. “Even if this was legally binding – which, by the way, something assembled by a scribe would not be – I would never give you weekends. That’d be too much travelling for a girl in her condition, and I don’t want her to feel like she comes from a broken home. Moreover, according to Regulation #531 as passed by the Grand Sage last year, you would have to get Collei’s signature before—”

“Check page twenty-seven.”

You watched him scowl as he thumbed through the pages. A second later, his ears flattened against his scalp, and he took to muttering under his breath. “Traitor.”

“If you don’t want your aggression towards the dependent party used against you in court, I’d suggest you sign on page four, seventeen, and thirty-two.”

You left his villa half an hour later with a with a new imprint of his fangs on the side of your throat and a signed document in-hand.

Cyno

“You have kidnapped me.”

“Technically, I was only—”

“You’ve blackmailed me, imprisoned me, and tortured me.”

“You can’t still be hung up on—”

“You’ve branded me with your name, forced me into your bed, and made me play out all your delusional, fucked-up fantasies—” You took a deep breath, pursed your lips. “—but if you show up to a black-tie event wearing that, it will be the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”

He looked down, as if considering his attire for the first time. He was in his usual uniform – which was to say, shirtless and barefoot, his hair windblown and a fine layer of sand still coating what little he was wearing. You could only be thankful his polearm wasn’t slung across his back, but you knew he’d make it past the door without it. “The way I dress has never been a problem before.”

“There’s a difference between hunting down rouge scholars and going to a banquet being held by a literal god. Archons, Lesser Lord Kusanali herself might be there.” You gasped, dragged your hands over your face. “Everyone who’s ever gone to the Akademiya will absolutely be there.”

For all his many faults, he could never stand to see you in pain. There was a brief delay, a moment of unsure shuffling, then his arms were wrapping around you, his chest slotting against your back has he pulled you against him. “It’ll be alright,” he muttered, speaking into your shoulder. “If anyone so much as attempts to insult you—no, if anyone tries to talk to you at all, I’ll strike them down in the blink of an eyes.”

His comfort was stale, but you forced yourself to relax. At least enough to speak. “You know,” you mumbled, letting your hands drift to your temples. “Dehya was hired by an up-and-coming scholar, a few weeks ago. I’m not sure how long her contract was, but there’s a chance we’ll see her tonight.”

There was a beat of silence, then another.

“Cyno?”

“I’ll change.”

Wriothesley

You could hear him trudging up the metallic stairs to his office; his footsteps heavy enough to drown out the soft music flowing out of his century-old gramophone. His head emerged from the curving staircase, first – his hair somehow more disheveled than its usual state of barely-tamed chaos – then his chest, his tie undone and his collar terribly mangled, as if he’d spent all day indulging the worst of his nervous habits. He was baring his teeth, his pale cheeks flushed with anger and his eyes narrowed into a pointed glare. It wasn’t quite the reaction you’d hoped for (in your wildest dreams, he would’ve managed to sink his beloved fortress before he ever reached you), but it was close enough.

You moved to stand, to greet him with the warm embrace he usually demanded, but he was already in front of you, already pinning you to the back of the lounge you’d been splayed across with a single fist planted less than a hair’s width above your shoulder. “You,” he growled, leaning in close enough for his breath to fan over your skin. “Do you know how many journalistsI had to deal with today? They were everywhere. I couldn’t go a step without tripping over some— over some glorified tabloid.”

“So, your meeting with Monsieur Neuvillette went well?” His scowl deepened, and you let out your most faux innocent laugh – a chiming, bubbling thing he’d never been able to stand. “You shouldn’t scowl like that, love. All those photographers will have to find a new model if you manage to give yourself frown lines.”

He jolted, but forced himself to shut his eyes, to let out a long, ragged breath. When he did face you again, he’d regained a degree of his composure – just enough to meet your smile with his own tight-lipped grin, more teeth than anything. “I’ll let you off easy if you tell me how you did it now. Before I decide it’d be faster to strangle an explanation out of you.”

“I didn’t break any rules, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You paused, folded your hands over your lap. “It was all thanks to our great and benevolent duke. Contacting people outside of the fortress has gotten so much more efficient ever since you decided prisoners should be able to send letters without administrative vetting.”

He buckled visibly, his shoulders falling as he lean towards you, his face soon buried in the dip of your shoulder. “You’re gonna be the death of me, sweetheart.” There was a raspy chuckle, a hand on your thigh, squeezing just hard enough for his anger to shine through the playfulness of the gesture. “I think I’ve earned the rest of the day off, and I think you’ve earned—”

The door to his office swung open before he could finish, a masculine voice calling up from the voice below only a moment later. “Your grace, t-there’s a reporter here to see you! She says she’s been told not to leave until she speaks to your partner!”

“That’ll be Charlotte,” you half-sung. “She seemed like such a nice girl in her letters. It’d be a shame to keep her waiting.”

When he failed to answer, you brought up both hands and cupped his face, cooing as you used your thumbs to quirk the corners of his mouth upward.

“Just remember to smile for the camera this time, alright?”

[lovverletters]

👉👈 yandere serial killer...??? Maybe?? Like just this big scary dude with a mask and a big fuck all weapon like a butcher's knife or something and hes so big and scary but he sees his darling as he's just head over heels in love and obssessed and stalks them and makes sure they are safe.

Maybe leaves gifts as a way to try and court his darling even (trial and error style)

So like he leaves maybe a dead animal like a fucking cat cause he's this kinda survival guy and he's trying to provide food but darling is freaked out, so he tries again with something else maybe bones. Doesn't work. Tries to figure out what they like and tries again with their favorite flower or something.

Like he's out of touch with society cause again big serial killer who likely lives out in the woods, kills people who get to close to his home etc so he's really trying to win over his darling who lives closer to the town/city or something.

Just.... I just love big scary man who is so scary and mean but is ONLY nice and soft to his darling and tries to be so gentle, especially if his darling is much smaller than him.

No pressure if you dont wanna do this! Just!!! Giving out some ideas!

♡♡♡

♡Bunny

Yandere! Serial Killer

A/N : thank you for requesting! I changed a few things if you don't mind💖 this is like an intro for him? I'll write more if people like this dude

T/W : Obsessive behaviour, murder, mentions of dead animal.

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

"─yet another body has been discovered near a park at Heartfelt Avenue this morning. The police were alerted to the scene after a man who was walking his dog stumbled upon the deceased body covered with deep cuts that were shaped into a heart. This marks the twelfth victim of the serial killer, 'Lovelorn' that has left communities in fear──"

The news forecaster were cutted off as [Name] switch the television off. Their stomach churned with uneasiness at the reports of the new killing. With the serial killer still on the loose, god knows who'll be next?

It could be them.

It's a terrifying thought but a probable possibility. All of the bodies were found near their place of living, meaning that the killer is not far from their area. Moving away is not a choice for them, they could barely make enough money to stay afloat.

[Name] will have to put up with the murderous maniac's antics until they were caught and placed behind bars.

"Shit── I forgot I have to cover for Stacey today!" They cursed out, hurriedly changing into their horrendous work uniform.

Working a late shift at a cafe wasn't exactly their choice. [Name] usually worked the day shift── stressful but far better than being all alone at night when there's a lunatic who's going around stabbing people. Their coworker Stacey had an emergency today and had practically begged [Name] to cover for her shift as no one would take up on it.

[Name] don't blame them, no one in their right mind would voluntarily throw themselves in a situation where they would ended up in a news headline.

However, adulting is hard and it drains your sanity slowly and [Name] already lost theirs a long time ago. Plus, they really need more money otherwise they'll have to live off cup noodles.

What ever could go wrong? The killer had just slain a person today, they couldn't possibly attempt to do it again could they?

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

Everything went wrong.

It had been mind numbingly boring shift, the cafe were deserted at night with only a few people coming in and getting out as soon as they got their drinks.

[Name] were tempted to just sleep through their shift in the break room. Their boss won't care──probably.

"Can't something interesting happens right now? I'm bored out of my mind──" On cue, the lights suddenly begun flickering before shutting off.

Fuck. They're not bored anymore.

[Name] jolted in their place when the main door slammed to a close and their heart stopping momentarily as they saw a figure running towards the backdoor entrance.

They raced towards the exit──there's no way they're going to investigate it! They value their life more than this store they worked at──and try to pry the door open but discovered to their horror that it has been jammed!

Before they could attempt to break the glass door with a steel chair, they heard a noise from their former place behind the counter. [Name] eyes widened in fear at the sight of the figure they'd seen running earlier.

The man was muscular and had a red horned mask on, in his hand was a large butcher knife that serial killers loves wielding. Had their life not being in danger, [Name] would've laughed at how cliché this situation they're in.

"H─hey buddy, that's a nice looking knife you got there" [Name] says as they held onto the steel chair tighter, ready to wield it as a weapon if needed to.

The killer only stalked further in silence, ignoring [Name]'s remarks. He only stopped once they reached a good distance from each other and [Name] were confused, is he fucking with them?

Their confusion only furthers when the killer drops a fucking dead rabbit in front of them. Horrified beyond belief, [Name] looked at the horned masked man who stared at them as if he's waiting for a praise.

"Wh──wha..?" They could only croaked out timidly.

"It's for you" The killer spoke in his deep voice, elaborating no further.

Their eyes almost bulged out of their sockets as he dropped a human heart next to the dead rabbit. [Name] felt their knees weakened as they fell on the ground, disturbed at the sight before them.

Mustering whatever courage they have left within them, they asked the killer that's towering over them.

"Wha──what are these f──for?" Stumbling over their words from how terrified they were.

The killer, holding a flower in his hand──they looked freshly cut from the stem──lowered to their level of ground and spoke in his gravely voice that's strangely laced with a certain gentleness and love.

"M' courting you cause' I love you"

«────── « ⋅ʚ💌ɞ⋅ » ──────»

[d-targaryenshoe]

Affectionate Travels - Benedict Bridgerton

Word count: 1469

Summary: Newlyweds may find it hard to keep their hands to themselves, i'm not wrong am I not?

Warnings: S M U T

As the carriage rumbled along the muddy country road, you gazed out the window, lost in thought.

 The honeymoon had been lovely, of course, a whirlwind of devotion and pleasure, as you and Benedict had explored the lush vineyards of Burgundy and the cobblestone streets of Paris.

 But now that you were on your way back home to England, you couldn't help but feel a strange mix of anticipation and apprehension. 

You wondered what life would be like now that you were truly married, and if your love would be able to withstand the trials and tribulations that were sure to come your way.

A gust of wind swept through the open window, carrying with it the scent of damp soil and the distant sound of laughter.

 You turned your head to glance at your husband, who was buried deep in conversation with your coachman. 

He looked handsome, even with his hair disheveled and his jacket unbuttoned.

 A small smile played at the corners of your lips as you remembered your wedding day, when he'd first seen you in your wedding dress, his eyes widening with surprise and admiration.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, the leather upholstery creaking beneath you.

The ride back home was going to be long and arduous, but you were determined to make the best of it. 

Maybe you could simply lean back against the squabs and close your eyes, relishing the gentle sway of the carriage and the feeling of being wrapped up in his arms.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled closer to your husband, your cheek resting against his broad shoulder. 

You could feel the warmth of his skin through the fabric of his shirt, and his muscles tensed as you ran your fingers through his hair.

The rhythmic clickety-clack of the horse's hooves on the road soon lulled you into a peaceful sleep, and you didn't stir even when the carriage came to a stop.

It wasn't until you felt Benedict's lips pressed against your neck that you awoke with a start.

"What are you doing?" you murmured, your voice hoarse from sleep.

"Just making sure you're pleased," he replied with a chuckle, his breath warm against your skin.

You let out a small laugh, feeling a blush creep up your neck. "I am now."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. "Good. Because I was thinking we could pass the time more...entertainingly."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine.

 "Oh?" you breathed, your heart racing.

Benedict slipped his hand beneath your dress, his fingers tracing a path up your thigh. "Yes. Why don't we relish our last few moments to ourselves, in this carriage?"

You gasped, your body responding instinctively to his touch. 

You arched your back, pressing yourself against his hand. 

"Here?" you whispered, your voice trembling with desire. "Now?"

Benedict smiled, his eyes darkening as he gazed down at you. "Yes, my love. Right here."

With practiced ease, he shifted your positions, maneuvering you so that you were straddling his lap.

 His other hand found its way to your breast, cupping it through your chemise.

 You moaned, your hips moving in time with his thrusts as he guided his erection to your entrance.

The carriage rocked and swayed with the movement, but neither of you cared. 

You were lost in the heat of the moment, the thrill of being caught in the act.

 Your nails dug into his shoulders, your back arching as you felt the familiar pressure building within you.

As your lovemaking intensified, the sounds of the horses and the creaking of the carriage seemed to fade away, leaving you in a world of your own. 

The leather upholstery beneath you groaned in protest, the carriage rocking wildly with each thrust.

Benedict buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he fought to control his desire.

 Your body trembled with each thrust, your muscles tensing as you neared the point.

 The carriage rocked wildly, the horses whinnied in protest, but you were oblivious to anything but your own need.

Your movements became more frantic, more urgent, as the pleasure built within you. 

You threw your head back, letting out a shuddering cry of release, your body arching tight against your husband's. 

He followed soon after, his breath hot on your ear as he groaned out his release.

Your hearts pounded wildly, your skin flushed as you clung to each other, trying to catch your breath.

 The carriage finally came to a halt, the horses' harnesses creaking and groaning from their exertion.

 The air inside was thick with the scent of your sweat and the tang of your lovemaking.

You leaned back against the squabs, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. 

You looked up at your husband, your eyes locked, and felt a rush of affection and contentment wash over you.

 "I think," you whispered, "we should do that more often."

Benedict smiled, wiping the sweat from his brow. 

"Yes," he agreed, "I think you're correct." 

He reached up to straighten your hair, his fingers brushing against your cheek. 

"Perhaps," he continued, his voice low and husky, "when we get home, we could find a more comfortable spot to continue our celebration."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine. 

"I think that's a wonderful idea." you glanced out the window, taking in the familiar scenery as you pulled into the driveway.

 "It's good to be married to you, Benedict."

He smiled, leaning in to kiss you. "Likewise, my love."

As the carriage came to a halt, the driver opened the door and stepped down, coming around to help you descend. 

You took Benedict's hand, allowing him to help you down from the carriage. 

The air was cool and crisp, carrying with it the scent of autumn leaves and wood smoke. 

You made your way up the steps to the front door, your hands still clasped together.

The butler, Mr. Jenkins, opened the door at your approach, bowing slightly. "Welcome home, my lord, my lady."

Benedict nodded in reply, his eyes never leaving your face. 

"Thank you, Jenkins." He glanced around, taking in the grand entrance hall with its marble floors and ornate ceiling. "I trust all is in order?"

"Yes, my lord. Everything is just as you left it."

You continued through the hall, the servants falling into step behind you.

 You felt a sense of contentment wash over you as you walked hand-in-hand with your husband, the warmth from your lovemaking still lingering between them. 

You couldn't help but wonder what other adventures you would share, what other memories you would create together.

As you entered the grand sitting room, you were struck by its cozy atmosphere. 

A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows across the rich wood paneling and softly lit sconces. 

A plush rug covered the floor, the furniture arranged invitingly around it. 

You could almost imagine curling up on the sofa with a book and a cup of tea, spending the afternoon lost in the pages.

"Would you like something to drink, my lady?" Mr. Jenkins asked, interrupting your thoughts. 

"Perhaps some tea or a glass of wine?"

"Wine sounds lovely, thank you, Jenkins," you replied. 

You glanced at Benedict, who nodded in agreement. 

You exchanged a smile before the servants withdrew, giving you a moment of privacy.

You moved closer to the fireplace, warming your hands by the dancing flames. 

The room was beautiful, but it was the feeling of being with Benedict that truly made it special. 

You looked up at him as he stood at the window, gazing out at the garden beyond.

 There was a distant look in his eyes as if he were lost in thought.

"Are you alright, dearest?" you asked softly.

He turned to you, a small smile on his lips. 

"I was just thinking about the future, my dear. All the possibilities that lie before us." He walked over to you, taking your hands in his. 

"I can't wait to see what we'll accomplish together."

You felt a surge of affection for your husband. Despite your differences, you complemented each other perfectly. 

You knew that your partnership would only continue to grow stronger with time.

"I'm looking forward to finding out, Mr. Bridgerton," you said, leaning into him. 

"And I think we should start by finding that comfortable spot we were talking about earlier." you winked, your lips curving into a mischievous grin.

Benedict chuckled, his eyes sparkling with amusement. 

"I believe I remember what you had in mind. Very well, my lady. Lead the way." He took your hand, entwining your fingers as you began to wander through the sitting room, searching for the perfect spot to continue your celebration.