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piastrixpole · 3 months ago

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Lessons in Lust - Charles Leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x sainz!reader

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, soft dom! charles, praise, dirty talk, riding

Your fingers brushed delicately over the ivory keys before you in rapid succession as you played the same sequence for what felt like the millionth time. The slow melody was all but ringing inside your head as you tried to keep your focus on not messing up as you approached the most difficult part of the piece. It was particularly melancholic to the ear and absolutely beautiful when played correctly but technically very difficult to pull off. Especially with a distraction looming over you, observing your every movement.

Feeling the pressure while under his intense stare you missed a critical note throwing the whole piece off. You let out a quiet sigh knowing what comes next, restarting and playing the whole piece again. Casting your eyes momentarily up at your sheet music that rested on the stand you pretended to busy yourself with fixing your consistent mistake, but in reality you just wanted a better look at him.

Him being your piano teacher and sometimes lover, Charles Leclerc. It had started out innocently enough. You were his teammate’s deceptively sweet and naive sister and despite him denying it you knew he got off on having you like this. Knew that Carlos would lose his shit if he found out that the piano lessons you were taking with Charles weren’t just you honing your skills but rather a ruse to fuck him.

“You’re overthinking again,” he finally spoke. Only then did you realise how close he was to you. His tone seemed softer than it should be for a man that was ruthless in spite of his sweet appearance. It sent a shiver down your spine, to think that maybe –just maybe— he was being gentle because it’s you. But you had to shake that ridiculous thought out of your head. You were merely his teammate’s sister, another rich girl who threw herself at him.. “Your shoulders keep tensing up at the first movement of the piece. You need to loosen up Y/n, feel the emotion of it, feel the desperation.”

Well you were certainly feeling desperation. There was something captivating about how animated he got when passionate about what he was saying. And perhaps it was that desperation that lead you to your next move. “Care to show me how it’s done then?”

“You want me to show you?” He echoed, now seemingly amused by the situation.

Maybe you’d come to regret these words later but you were determined to rile him up “well yeah, you’re kind of all talk, you know…I’ve never actually heard you play in person. Are you even any good?”

Charles scoffed, a smirk tugging at his lips Without glancing at the sheet music, he placed his fingers on the keys.

“Prove it,” you retort with a hidden smile.

You shuffle further towards the edge of the small piano stool as he takes a seat next to you. For a moment you contemplate standing up and letting him have the space in front of the keys entirely to himself but you couldn’t pass up a front row seat to his performance. Without glancing at the sheet music, he placed his fingers on the keys. The moment he began to play, a surge of energy filled the room. The notes flowed effortlessly from him, each one rich with emotion and power. His style was distinct—intensely passionate, yet refined.

You can’t help but stare at the way his fingers move back and forth with a dexterity that should not be possible for hands of that size. His movements are almost paradoxical, impossibly delicate and intense at the same time. When he reaches the height of the emotion in the piece which is by far the most difficult part, the part you can never quite seem to master, you see how he stretches out his hands so that his pinky and his thumb are playing keys that seem impossibly far apart.

It’s just unfair. The size of his hands, the length of his fingers, give him an advantage that you don’t have. It’s useful to have hands like his, and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to have them on your body. If that veiny hand was instead curled around your neck or trailing down your skin.

“Show off,” you whisper. You mean it to sound playful, but instead, you sound breathless as the music slowly fades away and he finishes.

There’s a lingering gaze between you two. As if you’re both daring the other to break the tension that’s been brewing since your first lesson. Before you even have time to react, to give in to your own impulses, his lips are on yours. You’re momentarily stunned but quickly give in. His hands wander somewhere behind your neck, gentle and cradling your head, one of his thumbs brushing your cheek delicately. The kiss grew more fervent as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. He pulls you closer to him as it becomes more passionate and you feel like you're melting.

Little gasps and whimpers escape you but he swallows them all in his kiss. He wraps a forearm around your waist and pulls you across so that you’re now sitting on his lap. Your ass is now directly on top of his crotch and you can feel how hard he is pressed up against you. He comes up for air from the kiss and whispers against the flushed skin of your neck “your turn, sweet girl.”

“Are you serious?” You’re in complete disbelief at his request.

“Come on amour,” he coaxes you by planting soft kisses along the expanse of your neck, sucking harshly on some causing soft moans to fall from your swollen lips “don’t you want to be a good girl for me? My star pupil?”

Your hands hesitantly rest on the keys only for a second as you process the words that just came out of his mouth. His perfect fucking mouth. But then you remember yourself, and you know that you can’t disappoint him. You have to focus on the instrument in front of you and make sure not to make any mistakes, which is easier said than done with his hard cock pressed up against your ass. You almost have the hang of all your movements when his hands begin to move from your waist towards your rib cage and his thumbs sweep back and forth against the underside of your breasts.

“Such a good girl for me,” he murmurs against your ear. “Tell me this is okay.”

“Fuck, yes. All of it.”

He doesn’t need any more encouragement. The next thing you know, his calloused hands are on your tits, his fingers teasing your nipples over the fabric of your thin little bralette while you will your hands not to shake so that you can finish the piece before you cum untouched.

Somehow managing to play the piece flawlessly you get a hum of approval from Charles. “Good,” he says and you preen at his approval. From there he wastes absolutely no time standing you up and pushing your tight little black skirt up to your stomach, revealing the delicate lace underwear you’re wearing underneath. He’s still sitting, his face at the right height to admire your exposed body on display for him. “Fuck sweetheart, your ass looks fucking beautiful in these.” They don’t stay on for long. Within seconds and one fell sweep your panties have been ripped .

“Sorry darling, they had to go. They were in the way of my perfect pussy.” You look over your shoulder just in time to see him stuffing the now useless lace into his pocket before his hands move to undo the button of his jeans, and then his fly. Your eyes are glued to his crotch as he lifts himself off the seat to push his jeans and boxers down far enough to reveal the most perfect cock you have ever seen.

He takes it in hand and pumps it a couple of times before he looks up at you again with something akin to mischief in his eyes. “Well, what are you waiting for?”

You don’t have to check to know that you’re already soaking wet, but you also know that you’ve never taken someone as big as him. He must see the slight hesitation in your eyes because his smirk softens just a bit. “Don’t worry sweetheart, I’ll be gentle, but just while your pretty little cunt gets used to my cock.”

Well in that case, who are you to deny him? You take a deep breath as you position yourself above him, the hand that’s not holding his cock moving toward your hip to guide your movement. You can’t help but moan when the tip of his cock nestles itself between your folds.

“God sweetheart, you’re so wet already. Fuck,” he says as he pulls you down to rub your slick all over his cock and you jolt when he presses against it your clit. “I need to feel your cunt now. Move down slow, okay? I don’t want to hurt you.”

You lean forward to watch as the head of his cock disappears into you. It only takes a couple of thrusts for your body to slip into place over his and all of a sudden you feel fuller than you ever have in your entire life.

“Oh fuck, I fucking knew you’d be tight. I fucking knew it,” he says in a tone that’s surprisingly soft for the words that are coming out of his mouth. His hand pressed firmly on your lower stomach so that you can feel him inside of you

“Oh-fuck!-Charles,” you moan as he slowly pulls out of your cunt, only to slam you back down on his cock roughly. His cock seems to be touching places so deep inside you that you didn’t even know they existed.

You clench around his cock as you bounce up and down on it, Charles’ hands exploring your body with fascination. It was as though he was trying to memorise every curve, every detail of you. He thrusts up roughly into you as well, stretching your pussy wide to fit him. Your eyes are practically in your skull at this point with the pleasure of him repeatedly hitting that spot inside you.

The originally slow and calculating thrusts into your pussy were a cruel taunt, with each one of them bringing you closer and closer to the edge. But as both you and Charles got closer to reaching your orgasm he began to pound a lot more rapidly and sloppier. Desperation was a good look on him you decided. The lustful eyes that couldn’t take their glossed appearance off of you, the swollen red lips matching yours, the way he threw his head back with a loud groan every time you clenched around his cock. The only noises in the echoey room were the sound of skin slamming against skin and the sounds you were making which were almost musical. An unusual kind of symphony.

“That’s my good girl,” Charles praises you as your tits bounce in his face with each and every thrust inside you “my perfect little slut, so good for me.”

You nod eagerly, brain so overwhelmed by the situation that you can’t even think of words to respond with.

“Say it darling,” his hand suddenly grasps your jaw forcing eye contact between the two of you “say you’re my good slut.”

“I-ma…I’m your good slut,” you manage to mewl out between moans.

“God your pussy is incredible,” Charles groans as he feels himself getting close to cumming “fucking milking my cock, that’s it, good girl, keep doing that.”

It hits you in waves shortly after. Every time you think you can’t possibly keep cumming, Charles and his unrelenting pace keep slamming into you, prolonging the sensation of utter fucking bliss that runs through your entire body. It’s the hardest you’ve ever come in your life.

He doesn’t stop, even as your legs go slack and he has to hold you up against him. He doesn’t stop thrusting into you even as he whispers how perfect you are, how perfect you feel cumming on his cock. He doesn’t slow down as he pushes you back down against the piano and tells you he’s going to fill you up with his cum. He doesn’t even lose his rhythm as you feel it pour into you in long streams.

Charles takes a few last thrusts before he pulls both of you back down onto the seat, his softening cock still buried in you. He runs his hands over your breasts and tilts your chin so that you’re facing him. That’s when he kisses you for the second time. His lips are just as soft and perfect as they were the first time. His tongue running against your lower lip even more so. “You did so good darling.”

“And you weren’t bad,” you jest with a small grin “very Moonlight Sonata of you.”

You’re not wrong. The rumoured story behind the current piece you’ve been working on and practicing together is that Beethoven composed it with his student and lover in mind. Funnily enough you seem to have unintentionally mirrored it.

“Only not bad,” Charles feigns offence “well if you’re going to be a brat about it, there’s always time for round two love.”

You chuckled softly, the tension in the air shifting from the intensity of the moment to a lighter, more playful energy. “Round two? You think you can handle me again?”

Charles smirked, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I’m more than capable, believe me. But let’s not rush it. There’s something to be said for savoring the moment.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider his words. “Savouring, huh? Is that your excuse for taking it slow?”

“Perhaps,” he replied, his voice smooth and teasing. “But I think it’s important to enjoy every note, don’t you?”

“Fine, but I expect a grand performance,” you replied, crossing your arms with mock seriousness. “No more half measures..”

With a grin, he leaned closer, his breath warm against your skin. “I promise to give you a show you won’t forget. But first, let’s see if you can keep up.”

You met his gaze, the anticipation of what was to come stirring excitement within you. “Challenge accepted."

#f1 smut #formula 1 smut #f1 fic #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x reader #sainz!reader #cl16 #cl16 x reader #cl16 x you #cl16 smut

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ramp-it-up · 3 months ago

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... As Hard as I Did

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Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. You came along and knocked him on his face. Now he knows he wants more than just one night with you, so much more. Do you feel the same?

Word count: 1.9K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This fic is connected to the Knock You Down AU, and comes immediately after KYD IV, but I feel it can be read as a stand alone. It is in answer to this ask. Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run is making me feral. I can write these two ALL DAY!!!! Y'all are gonna have to deal with this for a while, sorry not sorry.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. Bucky is in love. The angst! The fluff! The morning after! Bucky wakes you up the best way he knows how, thorough female receiving oral sex, edging, manual sex, teabagging, squirting, nipple play, begging, use of Daddy, bukakke, cum play, Bucky cooks for you, google translate Romanian, the "L" word, allusions to cock riding.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

James Bucky Barnes had slipped and fallen in love.

Steve was so right.

It came out of the blue last Monday when he met with you about a painting, and here he was the very next Sunday morning, holding you in his arms. The ruse of him being a fully legitimate art dealer and not a crime boss had been quickly done away with by the media and your friends, and the fantasy of wooing you met the reality that you did not come to play.

You called Bucky on his bullshit and that made him fall even harder for you. He was honest about his plan to go legit and careful with your feelings, not immediately turning to physicality as he did with every other woman. There was something special about you that was worth the wait.

The five days had been an eternity for both of you, and Bucky had been like a teenager, unable to last very long. He was determined to set that right today, and also to tell you how he felt.

Bucky Barnes knew very little fear, but wondering if you returned his feelings was shaking him to the core.

He held to his original dream of making you smile at him forever, but those dreams had grown to thoughts of a life together, a home you could build together, and the thought of what kids together might look like.

Bucky smiled and held you closer as you snuggled deeper into his embrace and threw your leg over his hip. He caressed the soft skin of your thigh as he argued with himself. He was too old for this; he would be an old man when your kids were just going to college, but that didn’t stop him from making Steve go with him to Cartier yesterday after your event.

Steve grumbled, but he was still smitten with you from his conversation with you yesterday, so he didn’t protest the 5 carat purchase that Bucky made. His best friend just asked Bucky some pertinent questions like:

Had Bucky told you that he loved you?

Did you love him?

Did you even want to get married? To a criminal?

Did you want to have kids with Bucky?

Bucky just stared at Steve, creating the opportunity to goad him.

“But all that aside. If you don’t lock her down, I just might. I’ll close the deal swiftly.”

That left Bucky’s blood to boil while he prepared for dinner last night, but when he opened the door and saw you standing there, every negative vibe left his vicinity.

And now, you were here, warm and beautiful, and naked, in his grip. He was going to take full advantage of the few hours you might gift him today. He didn’t want to risk you running away after he told you his feelings.

He lifted your thigh and positioned himself most where he needed to be.

—--

You moaned in your sleep. You dreamed that Bucky was eating you out again, but you couldn’t quite feel his kisses and slurps to your folds, only whispers of sensation, like air. It was so frustrating, so you grabbed Buckys’ hair and scratched his scalp, trying to encourage him to be rougher.

He moaned and you smiled, calling his name.

“James, please….”

Your eyes fluttered open to the unfamiliarity of Bucky’s bedroom in the morning light. Your legs were spread wide and Bucky’s head was pillowed on your thigh, his hot breath teasing your pussy.

“What are you doing?”

You looked down to see him staring at your most intimate parts and smiling.

“Mmmm. Good morning Frumoasă. I’m about to check an item off my long list of what I want to do to you…”

He pursed his lips and softly kiss your lower ones. You shivered and continued playing in his hair. You laughed, music to Bucky’s ears. He smiled up at you.

“Oh, so you have a list, do you?”

“Yes, an extensive one at that. I will show you later, but right now…”

Bucky moved to kneel and shoved his hands under your ass, serving you up to him as on a platter. His eyes moved from your fluttering cunt up your soft belly and your beautiful breasts to your face. He leaned forward to give you a sound smack on the lips.

“I was wondering if I was going to get a good morning kiss.”

That eyebrow arched and he moved down your body again.

“That’s all in my plan, Frumoasă. Just be patient. ”

You pulled Bucky’s hair as his long, thick tongue licked through you to your soul. You shuddered and Bucky smiled, then those lips took hold of your clit and sucked ruthlessly as he brought one hand up to push two fingers inside you, the squelch of your wetness so gloriously obscene. He stopped and just pumped those fingers inside you, listening.

“Hear how wet you are for me? It’s a dream come true.”

You reached with grabby hands for him to stimulate your clit as all he did was fuck you with his fingers and hold you open for him. You were on the edge of madness. And it seemed that was where Bucky wanted you.

“Jamie….”

“Atât de nerăbdătoare Frumoasă. savurați momentul.”

Somehow, you knew he was telling you to wait.

“Please, please, please James. Eat your pussy please!”

Bucky’s eyes rolled back into his head. You begging was his weakness, what he wanted to hear from since day one. Then he realized what you’d said.

“... Did you say… that this pussy was mine?”

You smirked at him, feeling the brat.

“Maybe…”

Bucky frowned and slapped your clit, causing sparks of pain and pleasure to roll up your spine and wetness to gush out over his fingers.

“Ow! Yes! Yes! This pussy is yours, Daddy, please eat it.”

Bucky clenched his jaw and his cock, which was hard against his abdomen, jumped.

“Seems you know the magic words, Frumoasă.”

Bucky rewarded you with his mouth clamped over your clit and his eyes locked on yours as you watched his tongue working in his jaw. He was eating you out like a professional. You arched into his face, clit hart and throbbing, ready to give him…

He pulled away as you gasp/screamed in outrage, then whimpered and pouted.

“Please Daddy!”

“Oh, you’re ruining me, I can tell. But tell me, Frumoasă, tell me…”

He regarded you now with a new possessiveness. Impossibly, it made you wetter.

“What else of yours is mine?”

You squirmed under his attention and he rewarded you with another finger in your cunt and all three curled against that electric spot within you.

“What about this ass?”

His pinky bullied into your tighter hole, and you arched as he leaned down to suck your clit like saltwater taffy.

“Oh shittttttt! Yes! Fuck yessss.”

Bucky was grinding his cock against the sheets now, possessed by the sight, taste, and feel of you in his hands. He could actually taste that you were close now, and he wanted it almost as much as you did, but he abandoned you again. He looked up at your body.

“What about those glorious tits?”

He reached up to pluck both of them of them ruthlessly over and over as he continued to finger fuck you. His breath was ragged and his face a mask of desire, but he still had a modicum of control.

“They are next on my list.”

“W-what do you mean?”

You were thrilled and scared at the same time.

“Nu-ți face griji pentru ea frumos, doar ai răbdare.”

And his face was busy again between your legs, which were shaking around his ears. He held one down with one hand as he fucked you with the other.

“Shit, Daddy! I’m gonna….fuck! I’m gonna…”

Bucky nodded and looked up at you, then he told you to cum with his fingers and you shattered, gushing into his mouth and all over his bed.

Bucky leaned up and groaned as he played in your wetness, using that hand to begin to jack himself over your shuddering body.

“Can I come all over you, Frumoasă?”

“Yes, Daddy…”

Bucky groaned and then manhandled your nipples.

“Cum all over me, Jamie.”

Then he roared as you moved so that you could suck his balls.”

“Holy, shhhhhhitttttttt!”

You were circling your own clit as the first hot drops of his cum sprayed over your already heated body. You came one more time as he focused on your breasts and left a hot, sticky mess all over you.

Your eyes were closed as your shivered because Bucky’s hot mouth was sucking his spend off your nipples. He alternated between kisses, bites, and laps against your skin.

“James! Gotdamn! I–”

“I know, I know, Frumoasa. But I can’t get enough...suportă-mă, iubito…”

—---

Later that Sunday, around noon, you sat, twice showered, marked, edged, and fucked to within an edge of your life as you ate the brunch that Bucky made you. You were ensconced in one of his plain white tee shirts and some of his boxer briefs and socks, and he was looking at you hungrily.

You laughed.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

Bucky smirked, happier than he’d been in a good while.

“Do you want more…?”

Despite the debauched things you’d spent the morning doing, you blushed and looked down at your plate. You felt like a slut. But in a good way. You loved sex with Bucky. It seemed like even his pleasure was focused on you. It was unlike any other relationship you’d ever had.

“I’m sorry. Do you regret it?”

Bucky stopped eating and tipped your head up by your chin with his fingers. He looked worried and you melted. You bit your lip and decided to go for it.

“No. Because I love you.”

Bucky’s fork clattered to his plate and his eyes grew wide while your bright smile faded. Then he frowned.

“Fuck.”

He looked mad.

“I- I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. It’s too soon. I’m sorry, just forget that I said that.”

“No! Shit…”

Bucky grabbed your head and kissed you, the strawberries and cream from the waffles flooding your senses as his tongue found yours. When he was done, he grinned at you.

“I was pissed for a second, but not at you. What you just said is all I’ve ever wanted. I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you that I love you, too and here you are, saying it first.”

You rolled your eyes, although your soul soared. You pulled away and took another bite of food.

“It’s not a competition, James.”

You said it through a full mouth.

“Hmmmm. Maybe not. But I do love you more.”

He took another, bigger bite of food and you shook your head at him.

“You are insufferable.”

Bucky grinned.

“Get used to it if you’re gonna be my girl.”

“Your girl? Oh?”

Bucky wiped his mouth, then picked you up and placed you on his lap.

“Y/N L/N. I love you. And I want to figure this thing out between us. I want you to be my girlfriend while I figure out how to be the best man for you. Then maybe… “

You stopped him with your finger on his lips.

“Listen. One step at a time, Jamie. I love you too, James Buchanan Barnes. You are the best man for me. My man. I’m along for the ride.”

Bucky kissed you, then stood up and threw you over his shoulder as he moved to his couch.

“Speaking of riding. There’s my list to attend to.”

You screamed and laughed as Bucky slapped your ass.

——

Next part Here!

All feedback is golden, babies! Let me know how you feel. ✨

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literaryvein-reblogs · 22 days ago

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Writing Notes: Tactics of Persuasion

Phantom dreams

Story-telling

Tailored pitches

Source credibility and authority

Social consensus and social identity

Scarcity

Information control

Self-generated persuasion

Commitment

The rationalization trap

Phantom Alternative

An option that looks real, is typically superior to other choices, but is unavailable (Pratkanis & Farquhar, 1992).

The key to selling a flimflam (i.e., the selling of pseudoscience, fringe science, and other questionable claims) is to sell the phantom as real and possible and something that can be obtained with the right belief, effort, and, of course, money, but, in reality, it is a false dream.

The sale of a phantom begins by creating ostensible solutions to satisfy our most basic needs and desires.

As such, phantoms often purport to provide things such as:

Health (quack cures, diets, “healing” rituals, mental health pseudoscience, psychic surgery, faith healing).

Wealth (get-rich-quick schemes, lucky lottery numbers, investment fraud).

Social popularity (weight loss regimes, love potions, dating and romance fraud, becoming an “expert” with “secret” knowledge about UFOs, the Loch Ness Monster, and the moon landing).

Fear of death and the end of our existence (séances, life-after death claims).

Reduction in the anxiety of life’s uncertainties (advice given by horoscopes, astrology, psychic mediums, and other means, phrenology, psychic detectives, conspiracy theories that “make sense” of the world and the desires and feelings of those who spread them).

It is relatively easy to create a phantom since it does not actually need to solve these needs, but just appear to do so.

Compounding the problem, it’s often difficult to spot the real from the fake course of action without the needed knowledge, expertise, and critical thinking skills.

Although a phantom dream is imaginary, its impact on our behavior is quite real.

Story-Telling: The Invented Ruse

To allay our concerns, the seller of flimflam invents a ruse or story to make the fake look real (Bell & Whaley, 1991; Clark & Mitchell, 2019)

A good narrative:

helps to guide our thoughts (e.g., the cure is natural and traditional),

determines the credibility of information (e.g., as a natural cure, this makes sense), and

ultimately directs evaluation and choice (e.g., it works for Native Americans and Quakers, why not me?).

As such, stories cement information in our mind and tend to persist even in the face of strong, discrediting information (Anderson et al., 1980; see Pratkanis (2007) for the use of stories in influence).

Tailored Pitches

Fake healers can use the technique of pre-show to gather needed information.

For example: Before the healing event, attendees can fill out prayer cards with their healing requests and other information.

During the service, the fake healer can call out names and appear, by purported divine intervention, to know the person’s illness and personal life story.

Typically, the fake healer will “cure” shills (plants who fake illnesses) and those with painful health problems for which the pain can be overlooked in the excitement of the moment. The prayer cards (along with Googling and social media) provide the needed information.

Source Credibility and Authority

Two of the most robust research findings in social psychology are as follows: (a) we tend to listen to those who are credible (expert and trustworthy) sources (Hovland et al., 1953); (b) we tend to obey authorities (Milgram, 1974).

The merchant of flimflam leverages these 2 basic human tendencies by creating a persona as a credible authority and then using that persona to hawk a phantom.

Social Consensus and Social Identity

Flimflam merchants will use our social relationships to sell their phantoms by employing the influence tactics of social consensus and social identity.

When we see other people doing something, we are more likely to do the same through the conformity created by social consensus – if everyone is doing it, it must be the right thing to do.

Social consensus engages 2 psychological processes that promote conformity (Deutsch & Gerard, 1955):

information or social proof (“if other people are doing it, it must be correct”; Cialdini, 1984) and

normative influences or social pressure to agree or go along with the group (“I don’t want to be different from the group”; Asch, 1951).

The seller of flimflam will manufacture a false consensus (or take advantage of an apparent one). Quack remedies, astrological readings, unproven Covid treatments, get-rich schemes often feature testimonials of people who speak to the “value” of the product.

Once we become engaged with a flimflam, it can provide us with a desired social identity or a sense of who we are based on our reference group memberships, whether they be real or aspirational (Abrams et al., 1990; Kelley & Volkart, 1952; Tajfel, 1981).

Scarcity

Another social influence tactic to make a flimflam look desirable is to make it look scarce (Cialdini, 1984).

Given that phantoms are generally rare, this is rather easily accomplished.

As an effective social influence tactic, scarcity:

plays on a rule in our head, “if it is rare, it must be valuable”;

creates a sense of urgency and panic that we need to act now and feeling of frustration (reactance) when we do not obtain the phantom; and

inflates our feelings of uniqueness and self-worth when we obtain something that is rare (Pratkanis, 2007).

Information Control: False Accusations, Projection, and Doubt Campaigns

The sellers of flimflam often encounter scientists, journalists, magicians, lawyers, informed citizens, and other “do-gooders and crusaders” who use evidence and reason to point out false claims made in selling the phantom.

If left to stand, these criticisms can cut into sales and deflate the entire scheme. As such, the flimflam merchant needs to control the information environment and can do so using at least 3 techniques:

First, the peddler of a flimflam can falsely accuse the critics. Such attacks can be effective because it can result in a negative impression of the target of attack, undermining their reputation (Wegner et al., 1981). In addition, such allegations set up a chilling, coercive effect as others may become fearful of speaking out.

A second information control tool for the flimflam merchant is a variant of the false accusation known as the projection tactic – accusing others of the misdeed you are doing (Rucker & Pratkanis, 2001). In research, we find that a projection attack: (a) focused attention on the accused and away from the person making the accusation, (b) increased the blame placed on the target of projection, and (c) decreased the culpability of the accuser, making the accuser look good and moral for raising such issues. The effects of projection persisted despite attempts to raise suspicions about the motives of the accuser and providing evidence that the accuser was indeed guilty of the deeds.

A third approach to controlling the information environment is through a doubt campaign (Michaels, 2008; Oreskes & Conway, 2010). The purpose of a doubt campaign is not to convince someone of something (say, the value of the flimflam) but instead to raise doubts and confusion about the facts with the goals of (a) making it difficult to know the truth, (b) creating the impression that there is a controversy (when there is little or none), and (c) forestalling any action until the “controversy” is resolved. The doubt campaign was pioneered in the 1950s and 1960s by tobacco companies seeking to dissuade consumers that their products were harmful, but now is used to create doubt and confusion on such issues as climate change, the efficacy of vaccines such as those preventing childhood illnesses and COVID-19, the value of masks for limiting the spread of COVID-19, and evidence against various conspiracy theories.

Self-Generated Persuasion

One of the most effective means of influence is to have the target generate arguments in support of a position and thereby persuade her- or himself (Boninger et al., 1990; Lewin, 1947).

Self-generated persuasion is effective because in essence it asks the target to think up good reasons for a proposition and to refute any counter argument.

This self-generated message comes from a source that is considered credible, trustworthy, respected, and liked – ourselves.

Commitment

In order to establish continued advocacy and use of a flimflam, the seller needs to secure a commitment, especially a public one, from the target.

With a public commitment, a person is linked to a behavior or course of action – in this case, advocating for and using a flimflam.

Breaking this binding produces a negative tension of not living up to one’s promises and a concern that one will look inconsistent and untrustworthy (e.g., a need to save face). As such, securing a commitment increases the likelihood that the target will comply and perform that behavior (Brockner & Rubin, 1985; Salancik, 1977; Staw, 1976).

Commitments are strongest when the behavior is public/visible, irreversible, and perceived to be freely chosen.

One method for securing a commitment is through the use of the foot-in-the-door tactic (Freedman & Fraser, 1966).

Flimflam is rampant on social media, and we can easily see why.

Social media, with its emphasis on engagement (liking, reposting, posting, commenting, posing, arguing) provides many opportunities to make public, irreversible, and freely chosen commitments (as well as to allow those commitments to be used to create the appearance of social consensus as to the value of the flimflam).

While making a commitment increases compliance, it also results in perhaps the most important ingredient in selling a flimflam: setting a rationalization trap.

The Rationalization Trap

Once a person is sold on a flimflam, and especially when he or she comes to purchase and publically advocate for the phantom option, it changes the way a person processes information.

No longer is the goal “to find things out” but instead to defend and justify the beliefs and actions in what can be called a rationalization trap (Festinger, 1957; Pratkanis & Shadel, 2005; Tavris & Aronson, 2007).

When a person holds 2 discrepant thoughts, what social psychologists call cognitive dissonance, it results in an aversive tension state with painful implications for the self.

In such a state, we are highly motivated to reduce the dissonance.

Of course, one way to reduce the dissonance is to admit a mistake – I was wrong about the cure – and to take responsibility for one’s actions by alerting others and rejecting or, at least scrutinizing more carefully, the source of the disinformation about the quack COVID-19 treatment.

While a mature response and what science requires (Feynman, 1985), it is often difficult to take this route to dissonance reduction, especially when we have made public commitments, self-generated arguments, and linked our social identities to the flimflam, in this case, the quack cure.

Admitting a mistake often is taken to mean – to ourselves and to others – that we are not a good and capable person.

After all, we were unable to see through the deception and then told others to do something that might damage their health.

Unfortunately, an all-too-often course of action is to dig in our heels further and to rationalize and justify our behavior.

Some common ways to do this include:

deny the evidence (“the data showing the ineffectiveness of the cure is made-up”),

take some irrelevant aspect of the disagreeable research and pretend that it is damning (“the study was only done in New York”),

derogate the source (“that’s from the biased media and the doctors’ union”),

derogate others who expose the quackery (“nurses and doctors don’t care about people”),

perform a selective information search (search out and spread any study or claim no matter how unreliable that supports one’s position),

keep repeating discredit research as if it is true, bolster one’s own self and one’s intuition as a way of knowing (“I can see through the media; I did my research unlike those duped by big pharma”),

derogate other forms of knowing, particularly science and reason (“science is a limited way of knowing unlike my intuition”),

use whataboutism (“what about the time Fauci might have said something wrong”),

seek external justification (“a cure that might work is better than having to wear a mask”), and, perhaps worst of all,

self-censorship of putting ourselves in an information bubble where we only hear agreeable information and anything disagreeable is either not heard or ridiculed.

Obviously, a rationalization trap is a very effective means of selling a flimflam.

Once we are in the trap, we will continue to buy the flimflam and advocate for the phantom option in an attempt to justify ourselves in the face of failing evidence.

A key component of being an active truth-finder is to have a plan for evaluating and making decisions about claims.

When we do make a mistake, the honorable thing to do is to admit the error and take responsibility for our actions.

Source ⚜ Reading Scientific Articles ⚜ False Claims ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

#persuasion #psychology #writeblr #writing reference #literature #writers on tumblr #spilled ink #dark academia #writing prompt #creative writing #science #communication #writing inspiration #writing resources

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syresdcthings · 9 months ago

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Just had the visualisation of Bruce needing to be weighed down a really specific amount ever since he was a kid. Like Thomas lifting him during a Gala under the ruse that he was just sleepy but in reality he's squeezing him. Or Alfred bandaging him during his rebellious young teen years and having to do them over and over until they are JUST the right amount of tight. Khoa, stopping a fight with him when he notices he's acting odd and Bruce having to awkwardly instruct him on how to push him down by enough that he isn't hurt but he's unable to lift himself from the ground under his grip.

This carrys into his Batman career, and this means his Cape is WEIGHED. Like, imagine 3 weighted blankets on top of you. That's how heavy it is. And literally nobody else can lift it or wear it but to Bruce its perfect and it doesn't even change the way he fights, because he's used to it.

Dick fucking hates it. He has to be Batman on multiple occasions, and he HATES the Cape. More than usually does. Because its so hard to do anything flippy when you're body Is being pulled DOWN by some torture device on your back.

Also, the Cape is fluffy on the inside. He got that once Robin Dick was insistent on wearing shorts and he'd be chittering during the winter, so he allowed him to hide in his Cape whenever they were standing idly. Yeah.

#dc #batman #bruce wayne #dick grayson #robin #autistic bruce wayne #autistic batman #idk... just an idea

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cuntressgoingdigital · 1 month ago

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abby knows how god awful you are at taking care of yourself. fortunately, she learned that just a little bit of help and subtle coercion will force you through your nighttime routine.

(aka bedtime domesticity with abby)

free palestine! click this link for more info

at night when you’re already cozied up under layers of blankets, eyes glued to your phone, she pulls you out of bed and gives you a piggyback ride to the bathroom to force you into your nighttime routine. to start, she carefully undresses you while telling you how beautiful you are and how happy she is after coming home to see her beloved. her days were long and stressful. she absolutely hated coming home late at night, only being able to hold your attention for an hour or two before sleep took over.

“did you have a good day, baby? i missed you.”

she’d keep you talking about your day and any other musings to keep you from begging to go back and reclaim your imprinted spot on your shared mattress.

you lean back against her in the shower, feigning exhaustion so she can hold you up. in reality it was an excuse to feel the warmth of her skin against yours.

“my poor baby. so, so tired.” her tone would almost sound patronizing if you hadn’t known her mannerisms. “you need me to do it for you?”

you’d nod and she would. the question was superfluous. the answer was always the same. she’d start by gently washing your face with a really expensive specialty cleanser she bought for you on nora’s recommendation. then, she’d use a combination of a washcloth and her hands to wash your body. she ran her hands along your collarbones to your shoulders, slowly moving downwards to your waist and hips. she knelt down in front of you, holding your thighs up one by one, making sure she scrubbed every inch of your body.

while down on her knees, she couldn’t help but place a few kisses against your hips and thighs. abby always had to resist the urge to bury her face in your cunt right then and there.

right now, she had a mission.

these moments were mostly for you. she was a morning shower type of gal, but had no problem making sure you were taken care of, even if you didn’t want to.

after the shower she would take her time toweling you off, taking in your body like it was the first time she’d ever seen you unclothed. every time was the first time to her. she couldn’t get enough of you.

the two of you would do the rest of your identical skincare routine together, a ritual she imposed as a ruse to get you to actually use the products you begged her to buy for you. while she brushed her teeth, you would undo her braid and carefully detangle her hair.

at the end of the night she’d carry you right back to your spot in your dark room, pulling out a pair of pajamas for you. they never matched, something that bothered you for a while, but quickly got over knowing she would never hear out your complaints. sure, you could get your own pajamas, but it was more fun putting her to work. abby slept in the same thing every night, just a pair of boxer briefs.

she was always the last to fall asleep, waiting to see your chest rise and fall in that familiar soft rhythm. until you did, she’d lay and watch your scroll on tik tok. abby refused to download any social media app, so you had to bookmark the videos to show to her at bedtime. the two of you softly giggled together shrouded in darkness.

abby glanced at the time, sitting up in bed to leer down at you. "don't you have to be up early tomorrow?"

"buuuuut, i'm staying up to hangout with you." you whined back.

it took a few moments for abby's face to soften with a defeated sigh "and tomorrow you'll wake up complaining about how sleepy you are."

"maybe." you reluctantly conceded. "but, what if i love you so much and want to sit and talk to you all night?"

"what if i love you more and i'll make you coffee while we talk in the morning?"

"fineeee."

wrote this at like 11pm while laying on my bathroom floor trying to convince myself to take off my makeup. love domestic abby #needthat !!

#nisa rambles #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x you #barely proofread oops

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magical-reid · 4 days ago

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The Fine Line Between Pretending and Falling

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Ravenclaw! Reader

Word Count: 1.6 K

Prompt: 31: “You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me.” “I lied.”

Summary: When Ravenclaw Y/N enlists Fred to be her fake boyfriend to fend off a persistent admirer, she expects an elaborate but ultimately harmless plan. But Fred’s penchant for theatrics—and the growing feelings between them—turn what should have been a simple ruse into something much more complicated.

The problem started with Jeremy Tuttle.

For weeks, you’d tried to politely decline his advances, endure his overly enthusiastic conversations, and sidestep his relentless invitations to study together. It was exhausting, and no amount of subtle rejection seemed to deter him.

Desperate for a solution, you turned to Fred Weasley, a master of mischief and persuasion, to play the role of your fake boyfriend. His easy charm and love for theatrics made him the perfect candidate—or so you thought. What you didn’t realize was how quickly Fred would take the reins, blurring the lines between pretense and reality.

Blurred Lines

What you hadn’t anticipated was how much you’d enjoy Fred’s company. He made you laugh, even when you were determined to stay annoyed with him, and he had a way of noticing things others overlooked.

One evening, as you sat in the library revising for your Charms exam, Fred appeared beside you with a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“I figured you might need a snack,” he said, sliding the box across the table. “And don’t worry—I picked out the good ones. No earwax, I promise.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Thanks, Fred.”

He leaned back in his chair, watching you with a soft grin. “What kind of fake boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly turned your attention back to your notes, willing the flutter in your chest to settle.

The Great Hall Incident

The plan was going well—or so you thought. By the fourth day, Fred had ramped up his efforts, wrapping his arm around you in the corridors, and occasionally whispering something teasing that made you blush.

But everything came to a head one morning in the Great Hall. You were seated at the Ravenclaw table, buttering toast, when Fred sauntered over from the Gryffindor side, earning curious looks from the other students.

“Good morning, love,” he greeted, dropping a quick kiss on the top of your head before sliding onto the bench beside you.

You blinked at him, startled. “Fred, what are you doing?”

He didn’t answer, instead reaching for a piece of toast from your plate and biting into it with a grin.

The answer came a moment later when you spotted Jeremy entering the hall. Fred must have noticed him first.

Before you could say anything, Fred leaned in and, without warning, kissed you square on the lips.

Gasps rippled through the Great Hall as heads turned toward the spectacle.

Your heart raced as Fred pulled back, his smirk firmly in place. “Just making sure everyone knows you’re taken,” he said, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

Your cheeks burned, but before you could respond, you caught sight of Jeremy standing frozen in the doorway, his face a mixture of shock and embarrassment.

Fred glanced in his direction and gave a small, satisfied nod before returning his attention to you. “Toast’s a bit dry, don’t you think?”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet,” Fred said, entirely unbothered, “you keep me around.”

The Quidditch Sweater

A week later, you found yourself seated in the Ravenclaw stands during a Gryffindor Quidditch match. It was cold, and Fred had insisted you wear his Gryffindor sweater for “authenticity.”

“You know, to really sell the whole boyfriend thing,” he’d said with a wink as he handed it to you that morning.

Now, as you watched the game, his red-and-gold sweater hung loosely on you, the scent of broomstick polish and something distinctly Fred lingering on the fabric. You felt more self-conscious than you ever had, especially when a few of your Ravenclaw friends raised eyebrows at your outfit.

When Fred scored a spectacular goal, he looped around the pitch, searching the stands until his eyes landed on you. His grin widened, and he gave an exaggerated bow in midair before flying off again.

“Ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath, though you couldn’t stop the small smile tugging at your lips.

After Gryffindor’s inevitable victory, Fred made a show of flying over to you, landing just beyond the stands and jogging up the steps with his broom in hand.

“Thought you’d like a personal victory lap,” he teased, pulling you into a quick hug.

The sweater hung even looser now, but as Fred ruffled your hair with an affectionate grin, you realized you didn’t care who noticed anymore.

The Gryffindor Common Room

It was late one evening when you found yourself in the Gryffindor common room, sitting beside Fred on the worn couch near the fire. You weren’t sure how he had talked you into staying, but the warmth of the flames and the easy laughter of the Gryffindors around you made it hard to leave.

George, however, wasn’t letting it go unnoticed.

“You know,” he said, leaning against the arm of a nearby chair, “you don’t need to fool anyone here. We all know the ‘fake boyfriend’ routine is for show.”

Fred raised an eyebrow. “And what makes you think we’re not just this madly in love, dear brother?”

George smirked. “Because you’re sitting here with hearts in your eyes, and she’s the one keeping you grounded. It’s almost nauseating.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

George grinned. “Takes one to know one.”

Fred threw a cushion at his brother, who dodged it with practiced ease, but you couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know, we could always move this to the Ravenclaw common room,” you teased Fred, leaning against his shoulder.

Fred shook his head, feigning horror. “Too quiet. Not enough chaos for my taste.”

Hogsmeade

When the next Hogsmeade weekend arrived, Fred didn’t even wait for you to ask—he showed up outside the Ravenclaw tower with his hand already extended.

“Shall we?” he said, grinning.

The walk to the village was filled with light banter, Fred making exaggerated gestures every time a group of students passed by to ensure they noticed the two of you holding hands.

At Honeydukes, he bought your favorite sweets, stuffing the bag into your hands with a mock-serious expression. “A boyfriend’s duty,” he said solemnly.

By the time you reached The Three Broomsticks, the whispers around Hogwarts had reached a fever pitch. You could feel the curious stares as Fred guided you to a table, but you found yourself caring less and less.

When the two of you finally returned to the castle, your cheeks were flushed from the cold—and from Fred’s endless teasing.

“You know,” you said as you climbed the stairs back to your common room, “you’re enjoying this way too much.”

Fred leaned closer, his grin softer than usual. “Maybe I am,” he admitted, his voice quiet.

Your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he kissed your forehead, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

“Goodnight, love,” he said, leaving you standing there, your heart racing as he disappeared down the corridor.

Not Pretending Anymore

The next evening, as you sat together in the library, Fred broke the comfortable silence between you.

“You know,” he said, his voice unusually serious, “this whole fake boyfriend thing was supposed to be fun. But…”

You glanced at him, your quill hovering over the parchment. “But?”

Fred hesitated, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t think I’m pretending anymore.”

His words hit you like a bludger, your heart pounding as you struggled to find the right response.

“Fred…”

He smiled faintly, his usual bravado gone. “I’ve never felt this way before, and it scares me. But the idea of not trying? That scares me even more.”

“You said you wouldn’t fall in love with me,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

“I lied.”

Fred’s hand found yours, his fingers brushing against your own before curling around them. “So, what happens now?”

You swallowed, your voice soft but steady. “Now, we stop pretending.”

And as his lips met yours in the quiet of the library, the rest of the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the undeniable truth between you.

#fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x reader fake dating #fred weasley #fred weasely x y/n #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley reader insert #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x y/n #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts imagine #hogwarts reader insert #reader insert #fluff #fake dating #ravenclaw reader #ravenclaw #magical-Reid

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r0-boat · 10 months ago

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If we have demon lords rut here, how about some demon knot headcanons 👀 Like how they act when they got stuck deep inside (maybe when they are not even satisfied and want more than just got stuck together)

I'll do you one better. I'll just do dick headcannons; we all know what their dicks look like, but they're far too human for my taste, let's sprinkle in a little bit of demon dick shall we?

Five current lords

Lucifer/Satan/Mammon/Beelzebub/Leviathan Demon dick head cannons(with dildo pictures)

NSFW(duh) mdi

With massive help from @smallestapplin thank you so much!

These are just my head cannons only The pictures are just to use as a physical reference thank you and enjoy the dick!

Cw: monster fucker demon cock, monster cock, dildo pictures, ovipositors, eggs :).

Lucifer

The most 'normal-looking' penis. Has more length than girth. It's veiny and smooth as it arches upward to reach every single spot inside you with appointed tip that nuzzles against your deepest parts. With little bumps that make you arch your back when they slide against your velvet walls. When he had sex with you, this was his first time. You thought you were going to teach him how to pleasure you and be in control. To your surprise, He flips you over holding you down and fucking you like a running animal. Overcome with a feeling that he has never felt before: delicious and addictive. His cock trying desperately to overwhelm you so he could see those pretty tears.

Satan

Lots of smaller ridges, lots of texture. When he's inside you, oh boy, you'll feel him. And he'll fuck you till you're weeping little human hole remembers the shape and every ridge or bump on him. He is much thicker, especially on his blunt tip, which has bumps. All the better to make you cum with. Can you imagine, as he rails you, that rigid cock scraping against your tightening walls?

Mammon

Knotted. thick and long. Pussy destroyer 9999. With pulsing veins on his knot and thick ridges. Big enough to fill you full and stretch you out. Demon cocks have the ability to grow bigger than his is no exception. His blood swells with his knot he still determined to fuck you even with his knot locking you two together. Clawing your ass addicted to the feeling of He's knot getting squeezed by your walls.

Beelzebub

Long and strangely muscular, He's normal in girth, but his cock is slightly longer than the other Lord's. It looks normal yet almost alien However, you put your answer when it's close this cock grows pulsating. He still would deep against you, And then you feel it small round objects, firm yet squishy, going inside you before you get filled up with his cum. He smiles, giving you a shit-eating grin; He loves when His bed partners first feels how he cum how His cock contracts and fills them with his eggs. Work of surprise on their face is heavily addicting.

Leviathan

His human cock is a ruse. Using some kind of demon magic or potions to make both his cocks appear not only has one but more human, to maintain that perfect image in reality He not only has two dicks they are more tentacle like flexible and long reaching every inch inside you. When it's not enough to satisfy feeling you completely he tries to fill you with both of them.

They are firm flexible, slimy, and very sensitive.

#smut #whb #what in hell is bad #what in 'hell' is bad #whb leviathan #whb beelzebub #whb satan #whb mc #whb x reader #Lucifer's little fangs aaaa

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thisfeelslike-iykyk · 2 months ago

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hiiii i have a request <33 maybe percy x daughter of dionysus reader?

drunk on love ࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

percy jackson x daughter of dionysus!reader backtrack: “adventure player”, yao chen inspiration: you!

it wasn’t often that demigods at camp half-blood got to relax. you were usually all busy training and dying. but with all the chaos that had been happening recently, you thought you all deserved a break. besides, with the war brewing, you never knew when the last time you ever saw your friends would be. and it sucked to think about that, but it was reality.

so that’s why you and a few other campers were out here, in the middle of the forest, at night. nobody asked how you got the wine, or why it was even there. let’s just say you called in a couple favors with some hermes kids.

you reminded everyone to keep it down. the harpies usually patrolled the beach area, so the forest was generally safe, but you couldn’t take too many chances. to be completely honest, the party was kind of a ruse to get closer to your boyfriend. the two of you couldn’t be too comfortable with each other during the day, under the watchful eye of your dad, dionysus. you weren’t ashamed of percy, and all the campers--and chiron, you were pretty sure--knew you were together. but you weren’t willing to take a chance on your dad.

percy was looking fine as hell, and it was effortless too. his hair was messed up just a little, his smile practically lighting up the whole forest. he met your gaze from all the way across the clearing and smirked a little. you grinned and sent him a sly wink, raising a plastic cup to your lips and taking a sip of the red wine inside. some stray wine dripped from your lips, which you caught with your thumb and sucked off. not breaking eye contact, you quirked an eyebrow at your boyfriend, a little smirk on your face.

percy shook his head, running his hands through his hair. he made his way over to you, alcohol-free because he was responsible like that. (that was such a lie. you figured he just didn’t like alcohol because of his old stepdad and arch nemesis.)

“you’re killing me over here, [name],” percy said with a grin as he reached you. you grinned as he pushed you up against the nearest tree, hands going to your waist immediately. you wrapped your arms around him to hug him close to you, the near empty cup still clutched in your hands.

percy wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours. he tasted faintly of sea salt--he always did--and blue raspberry jolly ranchers. he was your most favorite flavor. you returned his kiss hungrily as his hand slipped under your shirt, gently rubbing circles on your warm skin.

if it was up to you, you would spend all day kissing your boyfriend. unfortunately, that wasn’t up to you. “perce, my dad could see,” you whispered, unconnecting your lips and forcing yourself to keep a clear mind.

“you’re not worried about him finding out about this whole party in general?” he returned in a low voice, tugging your hair teasingly.

“compared to him seeing you and I together? not really, actually.” dionysus would probably have a good laugh seeing this gathering. “he’d probably be proud of me. about the party.” you downed the rest of your wine in one gulp, savoring the taste. of course, being the daughter of the wine god had its perks, one being you could outdrink anybody.

“he hates me enough anyway,” percy muttered. “I swear, babe, you think we’re being all discreet, but he definitely knows. and I don’t have a problem with that, but he definitely knows. you should see the way he looks at me. I might get murdered in my sleep one of these days.”

“don’t say that,” you protested, rolling your eyes. “you’re too important to kill.”

“hmm,” he hummed dismissively, pressing his lips to yours again. “wanna get out of here?” he mumbled against your mouth.

“you know I do.” you held on to your cup--the dryads would never forgive you if you littered--and took percy’s hand in yours. the music and lights of the makeshift party were quickly left behind as percy led you to his cabin. there was always something eerie and lonely about poseidon’s cabin, but you were not about to bring your boyfriend into your cabin; castor and pollux were busy drinking at the party, but they could come back any time.

come dawn, you'd have to sneak out of cabin three. you couldn't risk being seen in percy's cabin--besides being against camp rules, that would cause such a scandal. but for now, you were okay with being a rulebreaker. and who could blame you? you were simply drunk on love.

I’m sorry this took so long to get out! I’ve been bombarded with schoolwork and am sick on top of that. also guys please don’t drink underage

divider by @saradika-graphics

taglist: @loveinalocket, @raysmayhem-72, @stars-tonight, @toooster

#percy jackson #percy jackson fandom #pjo disney+#pjo series #percy jackon and the olympians #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson fic #child of dionysus #cabin 12 #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fluff #anna's fics

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berenwrites · 2 months ago

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Vocation, Steddie, Stranger Things, G

A/N: Almost didn’t get anything written for this month. Had loads of ideas because it’s a great prompt but kept failing to write them down. But I finally managed it. Hope you enjoy. Don’t forget to check out all the other great fics at @steddiemicrofic too💖.

Written for prompt: GUARD | wc: 532 | Rating G | cw: none

Tags: Fluff, Upside Down aftermath, future, corroded coffin, famous Eddie

Also on AO3 | ( My Other fic on Tumblr)

Vocation

It had started off as a cover when Eddie and the band began to take off. Once Corroded Coffin were slightly too large for Eddie having a constant male companion to go unnoticed, they manufactured a reason. Steve became Eddie’s bodyguard.

The kids had thought it was hilarious, since Steve had never won a fight with a human in his life, but Steve hadn’t. He’d taken private lessons and become what Eddie needed him to be. That it meant he could be seen everywhere with the man he loved had helped make all the bruises from combat training, and headaches from learning strategy and all about security, totally worth it.

The ruse hadn’t been necessary for years, but that didn’t mean the whole fandom didn’t still call him Bodyguard Steve. With the advent of the internet, he even had his own fanbase, which he found decidedly weird, but cheerfully put up with.

Of course, being in the public eye led to one little problem, people were beginning to notice he wasn’t aging normally. None of them were. Those who had been there at the final battle when they took down Vecna for good had all shared in something. It had affected them physically. For Max and Will, it has been more obvious, they could throw things around with their minds just like El. For the rest of them it had taken a few years.

Hopper and Joyce had been the easiest to spot. In their 40s when everything went down it had become clear much faster that neither of them was headed for their dotage when they should have been. Dustin had a whole sideline of studying all of them and his best guess was they were aging, on average, about two years for every ten.

That made turning down the management when they suggested Eddie get a younger man as his bodyguard really easy, but other things harder.

“Do you think it’s time to retire?” Eddie asked as he looked down at the latest article about the band in Rolling Stone.

“Do you want to?” Steve asked.

“No,” Eddie admitted, “but look…”

Steve glanced at the full page spread. It was hard not to see it. Jeff, Gareth, and Doug looked like veteran rockers, Eddie looked like a young upstart in their midst. The guys knew the truth. It had been impossible to keep it from them eventually, but the world didn’t. So far it had been explained away by leaks to the press about Botox and plastic surgery, but that wasn’t going to cut it for much longer.

“Vampires,” Steve found himself saying to his own surprise.

“Huh?”

“Tell the world you’re a vampire,” he replied as the idea formed. “You and the guys always wanted to do a really gothic album. Pretend it’s a whole thing and people won’t see the reality. It’ll give you a few more years until you’re ready to leave it behind.”

For a moment Eddie just stared at him.

“Sweetheart,” his husband finally said, “did I ever tell you you’re a genius?”

Steve just smiled to himself as Eddie dashed off to call the rest of the band. He would guard Eddie’s happiness forever.

( My Other fic on Tumblr)

#steddie #steddiemicrofic #steddiemicroficnovember #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie ficlet #steve x eddie #steddie fluff #stranger things #fanfic #fanfiction #corroded coffin #rockstar eddie munson

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nenoname · 3 months ago

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Journal 3’s references to Stan

Post-Portal Ford

"How is it that I am back? It turns out that despite my warnings and possibility of global catastrophe, Stanley managed to re-activate the portal and bring me back to my home dimension. While his intentions might have been pure, he was just as careless bringing me back as he was knocking me through in the first place. He destroyed the portal in the process, risked endangering the entire fabric of reality, and even found himself the target of a federal manhunt by the U.S. governement (a logical progression from his days in the principal's office)."

"When I first saw him, I assumed I had once again found myself in an alternate parallel dimension! Gone was the stubborn mullet-haired, frostbitten vagabond who had pushed me into the portal many years earlier, replaced by a wrinkly carnival barker with my father's face, fez, and girdle.

I'd spent the last 30 years contemplating what I might do if I saw Stanley again. Would I even be able to look him in the eye after what he did? Would I apologize for shutting him out of my life?"

"As it turned out, instinct took over and I punched him right in the face. I feel kind of bad about that!

Face- Inherited Dad's nose and Mom's untrustworthy tongue.

Gut- I've spent the last 30 years keeping up an extensive exercise and diet regimen. Stanley... hasn't.

Suit- Dad's suit, which he gave me after graduation. He thought I'd wear it for my wedding. I thought I'd wear it to accept an award. Instead, Stanley has used it to trick tourists and sell key chains."

"Machinery- Operated my portal like a monkey pretending to be a mechanic. Half of the instruments are held together with duct tape.

Yes, despite the extra pounds and wrinkles, Stanley is still the irresponsible, shortcut-loving overgrown child I remember from the past. Most unbelievable: his first thought upon seeing me again was to expect a thank-you - a THANK YOU - after destroying my life!

Even worse, he spent the last 30 years avoiding the law by faking his own death, impersonating me, and scamming the local townsfolks with a moneymaking ruse so absurd it would even make my profit-loving father blush. Once a cheater, always a cheater. And it turns out he's become a fraud for a living. I nearly fainted when I saw what he had done to..."

[THE MYSTERY SHACK] "Unbelievable. Once a haven of scientific study, the cabin I built with my grant money has been transformed by Stanley over the years into a hokey freak show that mocks everything about the study of the paranormal!

Signage- There are legal disclaimers in almost-impossible-to-see fine print painted up and down nearly every entryway. It's a wonder Stanley hasn't been sued yet.:

“Walking around my old lab, I feel like a dead man’s ghost haunting a strange fun house mirror version of his past life, I resolve to take back my home and rebuild the life that Stanley has taken from me.”

“The strangest thing about [Soos] is his utter idolization of my brother Stanley.”

"At least there is some GOOD news: I am a great uncle! (Or "grunkle," as Stanley seems oddly insistent on saying.) Apparently, Sherman Pines's grandkods have been staying with Stanley for the summer. (It's hard to believe the parents would trust these kids with Stanley; they clearly thought he was ME!)"

[Mabel] "Shares the family sweet tooth. Diet seems to consist solely of items with the word ‘gummy’ in them. I will need to discuss nutrition with Stanley.”

[Dipper] “Observations: 1) Constantly sweating. Perhaps he takes after Stanley. (…) 4) Rank odor. Clearly hasn’t bathed recently. Stanley should never be put in charge of children!”

“It is just as I feared; apparently, Stanley’s reckless use of the machine overtaxed it and ripped a tear in the dimensional fabric- the same way an overheated oven might burn a hole in kitchen linoleum.”

“Containment dome- A home for the Rift. Admittedly, I was inspired by the snow globes in Stanley’s gift shop.”

“When I tried to share my burdens with my brother, he knocked me into the portal, separating me from my home for 30 years.”

“Stanley always mocked my love of [DD&MD], and even some of my college friends called it "Girlfriend Repellant.”“

"Well, the harm in showing the [infinity sided die] to Dipper turned out to be quite large. During one of our games, my hotheaded brother got his hands on it and accidentally conjured this jerk.”

“I’m proud to say that the Pines family was able to beat the wizard at his own game. Stan’s contribution was (of course) to cheat our way to victory.”

“Ironically, in the multiverse I’m just as wanted as Stanley! But my crimes had a noble purpose”

“Stan would have loved this place, but it just made me depressed. Although I had a good run in the Gambling Dimension, the dimensional bouncers ended up kicking me out for counting cards! What are the odds?”

“[The Oracle] looked deep into my eyes and said I had the face of the man who was destined to destroy Bill.”

[A Better World] “On this Earth, I was never pushed into the portal by Stan. On this Earth, my brother listened to me and took Journal 1 away from Gravity Falls.”

“I reentered the world of my youth to face a brother I had not seen in 30 years. My frustration was indescribable- once again, my brother’s actions had sabotaged everything I had ever worked toward.”

“To help Dipper understand, I borrowed Stanley’s car, and we drove until we reached the town border of Gravity Falls.”

“I suggested it would be a good time for Stan to take the kids on that road trip he’s been talking about while I puzzle over [the cracked Rift]”

Other sections: Pre-Portal, Post-Weirdmageddon, Lost Journal pages + Ford's letters

#gravity falls #stanley pines #stan pines #ford pines #stanford pines #journal 3 #stan twins #part 1 is hidden by tumblr cos it hates pre portal ford's moping for some reason the link is at the bottom

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ironunderstands · 8 months ago

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Here’s my comparison of Acheron, Aventurine and Ratio that I made in 2.1 which I forgot to upload here lol, I would like you to know my thoughts then because OH BOY HAS THIS AGED WELL

Aventurine, Acheron, Ratio and what the Nihility means to them

(Inspired by a convo I had with @aoxizu on Tumblr!)

The ending scene of the 2.1 update (the one featuring the black hole) is perhaps one of my favorite in all of fiction. I genuinely adore the way it was done and what it says about both the characters and life itself. This game has THEMES and by god did they come through then. So, I want to go over why I love it so much, and why it’s such a vital moment for Acheron, Aventurine and Ratios characters.

First, some context. Prior to Aventurine’s and Acheron’s conversation, Aventurine was taking the riskiest gamble of his life. Prior to the confrontation between him, Acheron and the Astral Express, Aventurine set up a plan to try and get to the secret at the heart of Penacony, as well as provide a ruse for Topaz and Jade to do, well whatever they planned on doing, the ending scene says they came there to “harvest”, so in 2.2 I assume we will find out what exactly that entails.

In order for this plan to work, Aventurine needed his cornerstone and to trick Sunday, so pre-2.0 he went to Dr. Ratio to include him in this plan, and set up a fake betrayal to fool Sunday and allow him to keep the Aventurine stone, with the Jade and Topaz stones also being acquired pre-Penacony. We know this because of Aventurine’s conversation with Topaz post 1.4 Belabog mission in which he requests her help in Penacony, something which we didn’t get confirmation on whether or not she accepted until 2.1, in which it’s revealed that one of the Cornerstones in the box is Topaz, meaning when they got confiscated in 2.0 she had already accepted his offer (we can assume a similar situation for Jade).

Essentially, everything had been going according to plan for IPC (even if Aventurine was absolutely not having a fun time during it), Ratio even says as much, stating that the IPC is pleased to hear of his death sentence, so that part of the confrontation was already predetermined. This leaves Aventurine with one final gamble, hoping the Astral Express and Acheron take the bait, and that they will try and stop him from destroying the entire dreamscape, which if Acheron acts on it, he could entire the true dreamscape to find the truth, as only an emanator could break through the power of the harmony.

Luckily for Aventurine, the gamble pays off and Aventurine does indeed draw her blade, both stopping him and sending them both into another plane entirely, it’s there in which one if my favorite scenes in fiction ever occurs.

You see, even if Aventurine planned this all from the start, he hasn’t exactly been having a fun time while doing it. Being sentenced to death and then slowly hallucinating on Harmony sh1t until the manifestations of your past self and your present doubt and insecurities come to haunt you isn’t exactly fun for anyone, especially Aventurine. 1) Because his backstory is horrifically tragic and being faced with a reminder that you will never feel secure or valued or truly happy would be enough to erode away the psyche of anyone 2) A version of himself which claims to be his future, but is more like a personification of how much Aventurine doubts and hates himself. It’s even more telling that this isn’t the first time he has talked to this version of him, in fact it saved his life several times, meaning one of Aventurine’s driving motivations is his own self loathing.

A trait that on the surface you don’t think he would have, Aventurine plays the role of the confident, unflappable gambler who always wins, when in reality his other hand is under the table, clutching his chips for dear life (something I quite literally paraphrased from the game).

Therefore, going into this conversation, Aventurine is more relieved than anything, yet another one of his gambles paid off, but now he will have to see how to go from there, and that’s when Acheron’s advice comes in. She’s not stupid, and immediately recognizes that he won (or at least got what she wanted), and that killing him is meaningless, it’s not his time yet. However, what Aventurine is really focused on is the fact that out of all the emanators he could have come across, the one he faces now is an emanator of nihility.

And well, in the face of overwhelming nihility, one’s own value comes into question yet again, and that’s something Aventurine doesn’t even need the aeon for to ask. So, he talks to Acheron, as IX isn’t exactly going to answer, but she might know. Now, I’m just going to lay out the dialogue (then explain it obviously) because it’s genuinely amazing.

Aventurine starts out by asking Acheron if she is an emanator of nihility, and I find her response to be really interesting. She doesn’t view herself as someone chosen by IX, as nihilism (the feeling of meaningless) envelops everyone equally, but she has simply walked in their shadow longer, tainted on the feeling. This leads Aventurine to question if this is the end, as if life has lost all meaning, in the face of overwhelming nihility, would that mean he’s dead?

Luckily Acheron immediately disagrees, stating that this is merely a manifestation of IX, not the end (he’s not dead guys idk how anyone can think that). However Aventurine still questions if his death has been determined, but Acheron doesn’t promise it. She mulls over his plan and and Aventurine asks her why she thinks he did it, and Acheron believes it was to find a secret deeper than the dream “deaths: the Real Penacony. He wonders how she found out, and Acheron says it’s the trailblazer’s identity which allowed her (and Aventurine) to come to this conclusion (we don’t yet know how this happened for either of them yet, but 2.2 should give answers).

They continue, Aventurine reveals that he believes the barrier the family built using the power of the harmony was not just to keep death out but the nightmare that is the real dreamscape. That the Memory Zone is simply a vast island built atop a violent ocean with the barrier keeping whatever nightmarish secrets from washing ashore. In order to break through this barrier and find the real dreamscape, which is why he kept killing himself earlier in the dream, but to no avail. When Sparkle gave him the hint, he realized it was referring to Firefly, someone who had seen the other side and survived it, even if she was unable to let others know if it. It wasn’t proof of the families wrongdoing, but it was suspicious enough for him to try and get Acheron to kill him, rather than try and find the Meme to recreate Firefly’s death.

Acheron points out just how insane this plan was, that if he hadn’t gotten lucky and crossed path with her, it wouldn’t have succeeded. Then, she commends him for playing it perfectly, pitting her perfectly against him and creating a plan that would be beneficial for the IPC no matter what happened, as even if he dies that would be great leverage. However, Aventurine disagrees with that last point, he truly can’t guarantee the IPCs success or even his own survival, that if she hadn’t drawn her blade it would have all be pointless.

She’s doesn’t let him continue along this line of thought, what-ifs are pointless and he earned his ticket to the dreamscape. What matters now is what happens next, and Acheron asks him if he can return from the abyss (Childe reference?), but more importantly, she questioned if he has ever wavered, as even a gamble as seemingly insane as the one Aventurine just did seems to have not shaken him (from her POV, we know how terrified Aven was but everyone else minus maybe Ratio does).

Aventurine tells her perhaps the most fundamental aspect of his character; he gambles simply because he has no other choice, betting on everything because he has nothing else to lose. Acheron tells him to wake up from this “dream” (aka find the true dreamscape), and she presumably goes to leave.

However (and this is my favorite part of the scene), he asks her one more question before she leaves, thinking she might know the answer as a pathstrider of nihility, “Why are we born in this world if it’s just to die?”

Her response is the best possible way you could answer this question. Acheron is an emanator of nihility, but she doesn’t think life is meaningless. The feeling of emptiness and pointlessness envelops everyone equally and that’s exactly why the nihility is pointless. It doesn’t matter that nothing matters, and we aren’t born into this world just to die.

Aventurine still worries though, after all if the dice of fate will always roll to the same conclusion, then destiny is predetermined, so why struggle? Why does it matter?

Her answer again is not one he would expect, but one that absolutely makes sense. Acheron says the answer has been with Aventurine throughout his entire life and journey on Penacony, and that he’s already somewhat realized it. Aventurine said himself that sleep is a rehearsal of death, but people aren’t ready to welcome death, which is why they sleep to get a taste of it. Sleep is much like death, a realm of unreality in which anything might be possible within the dreams that define its existence. Death itself is an unreality, and nobody truly knows what it’s like to die, but dreams are the closest we might ever get before the end. Like Acheron says, in a way, dreams are just a preparation for death, a practice before it can be welcomed.

However, much like how dreams can contain anything, even if we cannot choose to experience them or not, life itself is full of choices, regardless of if the ending is determined or not. Acheron understands that there are an infinite amount of things people cannot change before the end, but there are choices you can make up until it. Death is inevitable, but the life you live before it isn’t. This is what the words in red mean, both here and in my opinion, in general.

Acheron reminds the trailblazer to make the right choice when time comes for it, in our first meeting with her. However, I don’t think the path we choose matters, but rather the the fact that we chose at all. Now the next paragraph will include a minor discussion of 2.2 leaks, so skip to the next slide if you don’t want to hear it.

Sunday is getting a bossfight in 2.2, and it’s highly theorized that he works/believes in Ena the Order, especially because it looks like it’s their hand he’s touching in that one animation of the bossfight. Now here’s the thing, Order as a concept Chooses For You. I think the trailblazer making a decision is the thing that will save them and the rest of the gang, as within the face of an entity defined by limiting choice and free will, choosing to well, choose will save them (us?) and perhaps be the thing that gets the trailblazer acknowledged by the Harmony, a concept greater than Order.

Anyways, after she says that, Acheron leaves Aventurine, saying the answer to his question was from his friend.

And Aventurine pulls out the vial from Dr. Ratio

The vial telling him that the only impossible thing in the dreamscape is dormancy (meaning the secrets from before are destined to rise and destroy the “island” that is Penacony.

The vial telling him to stay alive and wishing him the best of luck, which in the Chinese version is:

Ratio answered both of Aventurine’s questions. The physical one, the one that pertains to Aventurines goals in Penacony, informing him of a vital aspect of the dreamscape that will help him win his gamble. But more importantly, he also answered Aventurine’s emotional one. What is the point of living? There is no real deeper meaning but to stay alive, survive and keep on living, because at the end of the day, that’s the only choice Aventurine can make, and that’s the one Ratio wants him to make.

Ratio Gives Aventurine A Reason To Live.

Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them.

This is the true meaning of nihility, not that Aventurine says that he has nothing left, his family is gone and he has nobody and nothing to fall back on which is why he gambles. But Acheron proves him wrong, he isn’t alone, she calls Ratio his “friend”, says that he’s the solution to his doubt. Someone caring about Aventurine is what saves his life, he walks into the massive black hole unafraid not because he holds some secret power or technique or trick, but because someone cares about him, and that someone taught him that caring about himself is enough. Aventurine didn’t need the power of an emanator to survive the true dreamscape, he only needed a friend, and the will to keep going that he realized from them. the universe is meaningless, but that regardless of if it has one or not, it doesn’t matter. It’s this realization that saves Acheron from losing herself like other emanators, it’s this realization that allows Aventurine to cross the event horizon of that manifestation of IX, and it’s this realization that I believe is why Dr. Ratio was never acknowledged by Nous: he was already treading the path of nihility without even realizing it.

Now this is where my conversation with @aoxizu comes in, and I’m just gonna paste directly what they said because I think it’s amazing and everyone should read it, more importantly it’s what inspired this slideshow in the first place.

Ratio tells Aventurine to live despite everything because that’s the only thing he can do. It doesn’t matter how absurd life is, or how meaningless it all seems, choose to live anyways, because all you have are choices, and it doesn’t matter if they lead to some grand outcome or future or whatnot. To Ratio, life doesn’t, and shouldn’t care about that. Existence doesn’t need to make sense to be worth it, and that’s a sentiment both me, the characters and the og poster share.

Acheron is a lot like Ratio, she chooses to live despite having discovered the meaninglessness of the universe. In an existence seemingly black and white she chooses to paint the world red with her choices, accepting its reality and choosing to forge her own path rather than succumb to the madness. That’s why she says in her trailer, “there is no other choice but to move forward” and that’s because there really is no other choice, the universe doesn’t have some grand plan for anyone and you can’t turn back time to change anything, so all you can do is move forward.

My contribution! I’ve already kinda started but I do want to talk about how Ratio could be treading the path of nihility, but I’ll let this amazing post finish.

So yeah, amazing post, and I don’t think I could reword what they said in a better way than they did. Bringing up the philosophical aspects of this scene makes me really happy because they are so prominent, but most people aren’t really aware enough to notice. Absurdism is one of the driving inspirations behind the dreamscape, and it’s nice to see someone else besides you (see: my slideshow about Penacony and its American influences for an elaboration on this) bring it up. Honestly I think that philosophy fits Ratio far better than any of the Ancient Greek stuff you try to slap on him. Sure he obviously has the inspirations, but he’s closer in spirit to philosophers from the 1700s to now than them, a reinterpretation of Greek scholars rather than a copy of them.

And this is where my idea that Ratio is a pathstrider of nihility (and he doesn’t even know it yet) comes in. He doesn’t view knowledge in the same way that pathstriders of Erudition do; knowledge for knowledges sake has never been something Ratio has cared about. Knowledge means something to Ratio because it allows people to better themselves, not because it has some sort of inherent value. That’s why he’s so determined to spread it, he wants everyone to reach their fullest potential, and dedicates his life to doing so. Regardless of if the universe has meaning or not, that doesn’t mean people can’t try and live their best lives, and that’s the philosophy Ratio truly believes in.

Moreover, this is why it’s so meaningful that Ratio is the one to help Aventurine, he’s teaching him something Ratio himself learned long ago when he got rejected by the Genius Society. Despite all of Ratio’s intellect and qualifications, he will never be good enough for them because he simply doesn’t view knowledge in the way they do. But instead of this meaninglessness (nihility) consuming him, Ratio dedicated his life to doing what brought him meaning and validation rather than searching for some hidden answers from the universe (specifically Nous).

And it’s not like he just accepted it happily. Ratio still wants their acknowledgement, and it still hurt (and hurts) him a lot to not have it, which is why I think he unknowingly strides the path of nihility. To Ratio, his view on knowledge is simply how knowledge is, and the fact that Nous will never perceive it in that way because his philosophy is more nihilistic than it is erudite is something Ratio might never come to terms with. But that’s ok. The point is that it’s ok, Ratio doesn’t need to be acknowledged or to understand the truth of the universe to be happy or do well for himself. Our universe might mean nothing and yeah that can and will suck, but existence is more valuable than some grand cosmic plan, and even if you don’t realize it, choosing to live is enough.

Continually, this reminds me of the conversation Aventurine had with his hallucination self, in which he told real Aventurine that him and Ratio are very similar. In a way, they are, both struggling to find meaning in their lives, and Ratio helps Aventurine find meaning in his without really even knowing how. Sure the note was meant to keep Aventurine going, but Ratio caused Aventurine to come to a conclusion that probably won’t find Ratio for a while. He helped Aventurine overcome nihility without even knowing it, without Ratio even realizing that THAT is the thing he has been struggling with, and the path he has been walking the whole time.

I really hope we get to see Ratio again, and at the very least I want a story quest for him because I want to analyze his brain under a microscope. Him and Acheron need to meet asap I want more Ratio content idc if everyone else in the fandom hates him I love him and he’s my pookie bear and I will write 3039493494 things about him when it comes to me UGHHHH. Anyways I didn’t know how end this so this is the ending yaaayyy! I hope you liked it and if you have any thoughts let me know!

_________________________________________

Og post over! That was a long ass read and past me was absolutely cooking up a storm, oh god did this age well and I was right about or close to right about a lot of shit haha. Anyways I really do hope you enjoyed reading this, and this will hopefully provide some needed context for my next posts on this subject. Also feel free to repost this onto other sites I’m very proud of it

#honkai star rail #hsr #Dr ratio #acheron #aventurine #penacony

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mikoyamisheadcanonblog · 4 months ago

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Hi! I'm a huge fan of One Piece and I was wondering (if it's possible) that you can write Yandere HCs for the admirals? I'm a big admiral fan. Thanks!

OMG of course no problem. This is the second time I got requested to write the admirals it is such a fun concept and difficult characters to write, I hope I did them justice for you

Ex Admirals

☀️Borsalino (Kizaru)☀️

☀️When he first meets his S/O he seems uninterested in them but in reality, he is studying them and watching them. He sees what his S/O is interested in and lures them slowly to him as he finally gains control over them.

☀️He is more passive with his S/O but that is all a ruse for his S/O to feel more comfortable with him. Let them wander around on the island shop but little does his S/O know he is in complete control of the people his S/O talks to, to where his S/O goes.

☀️He will watch his S/O from a safe distance, sitting on the roof watching them as they chat with someone and making sure the conversation is what he had ordered.

☀️He will train his S/O if they listen and don’t wander too far or stick to the route, he has planned for them he will give them gifts and praises but if they don’t listen to him and talk to someone they aren’t supposed to. He will give them cruel silence and indifference till his S/O comes to him.

☀️If his S/O is in danger or unhappy with someone he will capture said person and punish them. Using his power and influence to torture them and such and using the said person’s family and friends till they understood his power.

☄️Issho (Fujitora)☄️

☄️He first gets interested in his S/O seeing the kindness they have, when their first reaction is to help him when he drops his cane or helping out someone. He starts getting vastly interested in his S/O playing the helpless man.

☄️He starts getting more invested and interested in his S/O the more they are around him and will play the helpless blind man whenever his S/O starts to wander off. He doesn’t like his S/O wandering too far from him as there are dangerous crooks and pirates out there who would take advantage of their kindness.

☄️While he wouldn’t hurt anyone as he does value human life, he isn’t against manipulating his S/O to stay close to him. Or anyone else to keep away from his S/O as his. He is so charming that a lot of innocent people will fall for his charm and help manipulate his S/O.

☄️He never lets off on the innocent blind man. As he holds his S/O to him and never allows them to leave his side. It does come off as a surprise when his S/O finds out how powerful he is it would be already to late for his S/O to get away as everyone around him would manipulate them to stay with Issho.

☄️While he wouldn’t hurt his S/O or innocent it doesn’t mean pirates and other crooks would get his generosity. He is much harsher to pirates that dare hurt his S/O giving them a full extent of his Devil Fruits ability.

🌳Aramaki (Ryokugyu)🌳

🌳He gets obsessed with his S/O the first time they meet. It could be his S/O said a certain praise he really enjoyed or how his S/O looks either way his S/O is now very interested in them and he will do everything in his power to capture their heart.

🌳At first he is a bit charming if not a little rude and crude with his words insulting his S/O and belittling them but also belittling people around them and giving himself praises so his S/O understands that he is giving them attention that is what makes them special.

🌳If his S/O isn’t impressed with him, he will put his S/O in danger so he can save them and as a form of gratitude, he would demand his S/O stays with him and go on a date and once again he will turn on the charm till his S/O finally does give in and gives him their heart.

🌳He becomes a bit controlling with his S/O wanting them to have the same practices as him but if his S/O can’t live up to them. He will just have them in his presence all the time even on dangerous missions he will have his S/O tied up and on the side thanks to his Devil Fruit, so his S/O isn’t in danger but he also knows where they are at.

🌳If his S/O thinks about getting away from him or asks anyone for help there will be consequences for their actions and those who do help. He loves his S/O and will do everything in his power to keep them by his side even using his Devil Fruit to keep them up tied up tree branches and roots and always be by his side.

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year ago

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OLD THREAD:

Divorce her. Present this to the court as Exhibit A. Anyone who talks like this, this is just the tip of the crazy iceberg.

Have you noticed that the people who insist that they won't be defined by other people always insist on defining everyone else? It doesn't matter if you "identify" as a Nazi or not, they'll declare you to be one. It's irrelevant whether you're a Democrat or a classical left liberal, they'll designate you "far right."

They have to force you to play along because their claims don't even make sense, much less stand up in reality. When "gender is a social construct" untethered from anything real such as biology, as with gods, it requires others to play along and pretend to keep up the ruse; when society doesn't prop it up, your "gender" disappears.

The only time you entertain the delusions of crazy people is in order to get away from them. Otherwise, you tell the truth: she's a woman. Narcissistic, coercive controlling and crazy-eyed, but still a woman.

#Colin Wright #nonbinary #queer #mental illness #pronoun culture #pronouns #narcissism #narcissistic personality disorder #delusion #religion is a mental illness

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heavens-moonlight · 4 months ago

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𝗕𝗢𝗥𝗗𝗘𝗥𝗟𝗜𝗡𝗘𝗦 | 𝟬𝟲 : 𝗕𝗟𝗔𝗖𝗞 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗧𝗦

𝟬𝟱: 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 | 𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

Authors Note: Here's another update and all I can say is the next 2-3 will be the best yet! As always, I'd love to hear what you think and I hope to be back soon! ♡

The night breeze is welcoming as you sit on the rooftop’s edge with your legs dangling over the precipice, a gust of wind bringing with it the evening’s chill, ruffling your hair. From your vantage point, it was as if you were perched on the brink of reality itself, and this long-drawn-out daydream, an invisible cage imprisoning you in the recesses of your nightmares.

Below you, the city sprawls out, an illusion of lights flickering like stars scattered across a vast, dark expanse. You can still hear echoes of the distant hum of sounds found only during dusk, a low constant murmur like your heartbeat.

Despite the precarious position, no more dangerous than your reality, up here high on this ledge, you were encased in a strange, almost serene silence. It brings you comfort to be alone, the only one who you can truly trust without a sliver of doubt being yourself.

You stare out at the landscape that stretches in front of you, but your mind follows a different path, your eyes far from focused on the backdrop. Instead, you were consumed by the labyrinth of the game that had ensnared you. What had started as a harmless and intriguing puzzle—something to pass the time—had now morphed into a disorienting maze with no exit, a twisted riddle that seemed to play with your sanity the longer you were trapped within.

Your life before, the world you were a part of like a mirror image of what you saw below, seemed so distant, so insignificant, compared to the complex, shifting panorama of the game.

“Why am I—Why are we all here?” you mutter to yourself, voice barely audible over the wind. “Why can’t we leave as we wish?”

You don’t notice the door swinging open, your eyes closed and titled upward toward the blackened firmament.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

When you open your eyes again, Hyun-Ho is already settling down next to you, the small outcrop much too uncomfortable for someone of his stature, but he cares more than enough to join.

“How’d you know where I’d be?”

He flicks you on the side of your head playfully and lightly. “Who do you think I am? Of course, I know where you go when you’re upset.”

“I’m not upset.”

Hyun-Ho shoves his shoulder against yours softly. “Even when we were little you would always find the highest point or place you could and escaped away there. It used to be our treehouse.” He points around, gesturing at the empty terrace. “Now you’ve upgraded to a roof. What’s next?”

“The sky.” You gaze back up, stars twinkling in the reflection of your eyes.

“Don’t say that.” Hyun-Ho frowns.

The possibility of the game’s ending couldn’t be ignored.

“None of this is fair,” you say, voice nearly cracking. “Why do we have to be put through this?”

Hyun-Ho exhales heavily, the weight of everything resting in that single breath. “Because people are evil and they do evil things—even worse if they know full well the consequences and still pursue it.”

“I can’t figure out the purpose of this at all. What’s the reasoning behind innocent lives having to be sacrificed? Is it truly a game of revenge or is it just a ruse to justify killing?” you emphasize, the word bitter as it leaves your mouth.

“I don’t know either,” Hyun-Ho trails off, thinking. “Maybe we all did something wrong—something we’re unaware of and it can’t be forgiven in any other way except this.”

“Then, is this heaven’s punishment for us?”

With the celestial presences overhead, it all feels wrong. How can something so pure, so beautiful, be used to inflict such suffering—to be involved in something so inherently cruel?

No matter how hard you try, you can’t figure out the dissonance, the fatal coexistence of good and evil.

“What are you afraid of?” Hyun-Ho questions hardly above a whisper, turning toward you slightly.

“It’s scary…to think that we’ve become evil people.” You look over at him, eyes finding his in the dark, speech shaky. “I’m afraid of what we’ll all become after this is over.”

“But we’re not evil people,” Hyun-Ho pats your knee comfortingly but your chest still aches, your lungs struggling to expand against the vivid streams of blood you’ve all stridden through to get here, wading in fallen tears of the innocent.

You shake your head. “Some of us already are, Hyun-Ho—those who have taken lives and those who allowed it to happen; we’re one and the same. It’s either kill or be killed. Our survival is at the expense of everyone else’s demise.”

“No, we’re not evil people.” Reiterating, he sits closer to you, presence comforting. “We’re merely people surrounded by evil and we have no choice, the only way out being to go through it.”

“You have so much faith in us when I feel like giving up.” You lean your head on his shoulder sadly. “How?”

“Because there’s still people like you around me.” He leans his head on top of yours, assuring you like an older sibling would. “Just the fact that you’re troubled and want to set the moral compass straight makes you a good person. How many others would worry about such a thing over their own survival?”

“When did you get so wise?” Hyun-Ho’s soft chuckle rings out, reverberating in your ears. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Tell that to yourself, Seol-Hwa. We promised we’d be in this together until the end. Whatever happens, it doesn’t matter as long as we don’t lose ourselves or each other.”

“You say I’m a good person and yet…I still can’t bring myself to vote for Kyung-Jun over Woo-Ram.”

Hyun-Ho doesn’t look surprised or mad, almost as if he was expecting it. “I know you must’ve found something out or it’s your crazy intuition but you never do things rashly without reason so whatever you decide, I support you in spirit. I voted too quickly due to peer pressure but if there’s one thing this game has taught us, it’s the ones you least expect that end up betraying you the most.”

“I have my suspicions, and they hurt already. I don’t want to find out the full truth,” you murmur cryptically.

“Who are you talking about?”

“Later,” you assure. “When I know for certain, you’ll be the first person I tell.”

“I’ll try my best to stick around until then.” Hyun-Ho presents his pinky to you and you mimic the motion, your fingers locking and thumb pads coming up to press together, sealing the promise.

“As long as you’re around, I’m not going anywhere either.”

You look back up at the stars in multitudes, wondering how many wishes and promises people have made upon them.

And how many were able to keep them.

The moment you step foot back into the freezer room, Yoon-Seo runs toward you and pulls you into a tight hug before letting go shortly after.

“Are you okay?”

You nod your head, smiling faintly at her. “Of course.”

“About earlier—” Jung-Won starts, hand around your wrist, but you cut her off.

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

Yoon-Seo looks between the two of you, baffled as to why there was a sudden weird distance she couldn’t bridge, not even with her presence.

“But you’ll vote for Kyung-Jun right?” Jung-Won’s fingers tighten on your forearm, her face betraying only a hint of worry.

“Jung-Won—" Yoon-Seo states sternly, about to step in between the two of you.

“Why do you want me to save Woo-Ram so desperately?” You don’t know whether you want to hear her answer or not. Rather, you didn’t think you were prepared to.

Jung-Won drops her hand nippily, crossing her arms. “Then, will you save Kyung-Jun?!” she questions incredulously, her voice taking on a tone of suppressed annoyance.

“Guys—" Yoon-Seo interrupts. “What is wrong with you both?” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Let’s not fight against one another, hmm?” When you and Jung-Won reluctantly nod, Yoon-Seo’s posture relaxes.

“But, what were you guys doing in here?” you ask in all seriousness, entirely curious. “It’s cold.” The frozen bodies of your classmates lay jam-packed across the floor. “And a bit scary…” You eye the white sheets eerily, slightly convinced they could spring up unnoticed.

“I found a hole in the wall,” Yoon-Seo answers nonchalantly, walking towards the far right. “There’s a passage, which means it must lead somewhere.” She sticks her head in bravely, assessing.

“Do you want to go in?” Jung-Won’s shocked expression matches your own. “Yoon-Seo, we don’t even know what could be inside.”

“We won’t, unless we find out.” Yoon-Seo steps one foot onto the ledge, hands against the wall on either side as leverage.

You rush over and pull her back down. “You’re still not feeling well from earlier,” you remind.

Yoon-Seo breathes out, debating. “Maybe not, but who else aside from me would willingly try?”

“Me. I’ll go.”

“Yah, Seol-Hwa…” Jung-Won puts her hand on your shoulder in genuine worry.

You nod at her before turning to Yoon-Seo, addressing them both. “I’ll be back quickly,” you convince, ducking down and climbing through the cavity.

“Be careful.” Jung-Won’s face fills half of the opening as she hands you your phone with the flashlight on, Yoon-Seo looking in from the other half.

“Call out to us if anything happens,” Yoon-Seo adds.

“I will,” you guarantee, slowly heading straight before you veer off to the left, following the established path.

As you cautiously walk through the secret tunnel carved into the weathered walls, a sense of anticipation and trepidation fills the air. The dim glow of your flashlight dances against the crumbling bricks, creating eerie shadows that seem to trail your every step, distorting into dark shapes that nip at your heel, urging you forward even faster.

Neglect had cast a mysterious ambiance upon this hidden passageway with its whispered echoes reverberating only for your ears to hear. One of your hands reach out, feeling against the wall, each footstep of yours echoing like a heartbeat as you venture deeper.

The air grows thicker with musky dampness, wrapping around you, suffocating. As faint beams of light pierce through cracks in the decaying wooden ceiling, dust particles rain down lazily in your field of vision, a hazy curtain.

You forge ahead courageously, fueled by curiosity and a desire to uncover the secrets long since buried in the embrace of this darkness, hoping for a light at the end of the tunnel.

If no one was coming to save you, you would save yourself.

As the thought manifests determination into your mind, you come upon a dead end, face to face with a blank wall.

Taking one step forward, you immediately plummet straight down, your side slamming against hard ground with your shoulder taking a bruising bump as you land unevenly.

“Seol-Hwa?!” comes a mix of Jung-Won’s and Yoon-Seo’s voices, but you can’t quite form an answer as you unsteadily get back on your feet.

The room around you spins as your eyes catch sight of the vast display of CCTV’s lining an entire wall, recording every single square inch of the building.

No matter how outdated, you didn’t mind. As long as there’s proof of the heinous crimes carried out, there’d be no more room for argument and you could all be one step closer to ending this game once and for all.

In a rush of adrenaline, you hurriedly run to open the room’s door, wanting to find your way back to the freezer where your friends were anxiously waiting for your return.

As you navigate through each floor with no sense of direction or time, the disorienting blue lights cast a hypnotic glow down the length of the hallway in front of you, the distance narrowing the farther it stretches.

For looking so much like the layout of the retreat’s building, you knew it was not real.

An overwhelming sense of desolation permeates the atmosphere as with every turn you take down the corridor, a familiar sight awaits: a duplicate floor layout mirroring your past steps, plunging you deeper into confusion and despair.

Time seems to twist and stretch mockingly, the incessant looping cornering you into your wit’s end.

You know that any frantic cries for help would only bounce back in return as nothing more than empty echoes, taunting reminders of your predicament. Imprisoned within an eternal loop, you forego running with wild abandon and stop to think.

Beside you is the only room whose door remains closed. You reach out tentatively, praying that it will open.

The doorknob twists easily in your hand and you enter through to the other side, registering it as an exact replica of the staff lounge, phones ringing immediately as you step foot inside.

Urgently, you answer the phone only to hear the sound of a busy line coming through. You slam the phone back down onto the table, once again fooled by an illusion of the reality you have already lived.

Glancing around the room, your eyes fall upon a strange, ornately decorated box, seemingly much too large for the shelf it’s on and certainly much too out of place. The lid flips open smoothly, a blue beam of light illuminating the inside, coloring your face as you reach in.

You pull out a yearbook from the container, using the minimal source of light to view the contents. Class pictures dating back however long from the Muryeong Retreat Center stare back at you, all past schools that have come and gone, their memories locked in these snapshots frozen in time.

Flipping to the most recent one shows another class, decked out in the same uniforms of your school, every single face scratched out ostensibly with hatred. You pull back with a start as you realize only one face remains intact although the individual’s eyes are completely downturned and soulless.

Why does she look so familiar?

Pulling yourself together, you place the photo neatly back into the confines of your skirt pocket, resolute in finding the way back.

You make use of your keen intuition, meticulously tapping on various sections of all four walls, searching for any discrepancies or hollow sounds that may indicate a secret entranceway.

Each resounding knock resounds through the chamber, anticipation building with every measured tap that vibrates through your fingertips into the palm of your hand.

As you finally discover a subtle change in acoustics upon knocking at a particular juncture, you swiftly peel back the wallpaper, once again coming face to face with a hollowed-out wall just like the one in the freezer.

Perhaps you had grown expectant of seeing shadows dance in the dark, or perhaps your eyes were still playing tricks on you, not yet accustomed to the shift in realities, but the outlines of your awaiting friends was not the only one you saw.

In your peripheral vision, a hand reaches out, fingers moving as though beckoning you back into the depth of darkness.

“Thank goodness, you were able to make it back.” Yoon-Seo dusts you off, the three of you having made your way to the classroom. “I was worried about you.”

Jung-Won breathes out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you’re okay.” She looks at your pale face and does a double take. “You…are okay, right?”

You nod your head. “Yeah, I am now.” The two look at you in equal parts curious and equal parts concerned at the implication that you weren’t fine originally. “I happened to fall down to the basement but as my luck would have it, I found a room with cameras. Somehow, someway, I was stuck in a repeating cycle of time and space, alternating between floors—the lowest and the highest. I barely escaped, and here I am,” you recap in a jumble of words, still trying to catch your breath, one hand holding your hurt shoulder.

Jung-Won scratches her head in bewilderment. “You said you fell all the way to the bottom of this building, but then suddenly were up a few floors? How does that happen?”

“I don’t know…” you trail off quietly, in disbelief yourself, but then remember the picture in your pocket. “I swear I’m telling the truth.” The photo rustles in your pocket as you reveal it, turning it towards your friends who hover over it. “This is what I found.”

Jung-Won studies it closely, inspecting every single face. “Are they from our school? The uniform is the same.”

Yoon-Seo pulls it closer toward her. “They look to be seniors...”

“Here,” you point at the faces, finger trailing each row. “Their features all distorted like in old tapes, eyes and mouths crossed out.”

“That’s…unsettling.” Jung-Won shudders, pushing the picture into Yoon-Seo’s awaiting hands entirely, having had enough of looking at it.

Yoon-Seo fixates on the girl like you had earlier. “I think she’s the ghost I saw.”

“What?!” you and Jung-Won say simultaneously.

“Earlier when I couldn’t breathe…” Yoon-Seo recounts. “…it’s because a figure crawled out toward me, black hair covering their entire face.”

“The pool…” you recall. “Someone grabbed my ankle in the pool.”

“Me too,” Yoon-Seo gasps, and Jung-Won stares at the two of you like you’re both out of your mind.

“What are you two—"

Before she can get another word out, Na-Hee hobbles into the room, looking frazzled. “Is Woo-Ram here?”

“No, why?” You turn to look at her as she walks farther into the room and settles herself into an empty chair.

“He said he’d wait in his room until voting closes but suddenly disappeared.”

“Where to?” Jung-Won inquiries.

“Beats me.” Na-Hee fiddles with her fingers. “That’s why I was wondering if any of you had seen him.” At three matching shakes, Na-Hee hangs her head. “Jun-Hee and So-Mi are looking for him all over with no success.”

“It’s highly unlikely he’s missing,” Yoon-Seo states calmly. “Maybe he’s just off wanting to be alone for a bit.”

The three of you fill Na-Hee in on what you just discovered, discussions and theories flowing out from every direction until you’re interrupted by a buzzing overhead, signaling the intercom coming to life.

“I’m Park Woo-Ram…”

Yoon-Seo and Na-Hee freeze, listening intently as Jung-Won whips her head toward the sudden address.

“What is this?” Jung-Won voices in incredulity.

Something is off about Woo-Ram’s voice, raspy and exhausted to your ears. “Why does he sound like that?”

“I’m the Mafia. I killed Lee Ju-Young.”

You can’t believe what you were hearing.

Why would he suddenly and willingly admit to his faults when he had begged everyone of his innocence earlier?

With Ji-Soo and Yu-Jun still yet to cast their votes, you knew Woo-Ram didn’t stand a chance.

Not after this.

You slide your phone from your skirt pocket and hold it tightly in your lap, fingers shaking around the device as you open the game’s app, Woo-Ram’s voice filtering monotonously in the background.

“I had no intentions at first until I grew more upset the longer I thought about how she humiliated me—how she belittled me—and all I wanted was vengeance.”

A guilty conscience needs no accuser.

Close your eyes, you hit the vote button, casting with finality.

With Woo-Ram’s takeover of the intercom, your vote goes unannounced.

No matter how silent the verdict, it was permanent.

“Did we vote wrong?” Na-Hee mumbles, her face revealing just how anxious and scared she was at the unprompted revelation.

Yoon-Seo springs up abruptly. “The studio!”

“Yoon-Seo!” You give chase after her as she runs like mad to the second floor, not looking behind to see if anyone would follow.

You stop short as you see Jun-Hee switching between throwing his whole body against the door and trying to kick the handle off, shouting angrily. “YAH! Open the door!” With how much force he’s applying, the sound loudly reverberates all down the length of the empty corridor. “Woo-Ram! Park Woo-Ram!” Every shout of his is punctuated by harsher and harsher pounds against the door, his fist slamming against the stubborn wood.

“Help...” comes Woo-Ram’s weak voice. “I’m in here. The guys kidnapped—"

Whatever screams he planned on letting out are abruptly muffled, and you become more restless by the second, hoping that you hadn’t made the wrong choice.

Out of nowhere, Yoon-Seo comes back, bearing an ax in hand.

“Out of the way.” She corals both you and So-Mi to the side as Jun-Hee grabs hold of the sharp weapon.

“Stay back,” he warns, raising the blade high over his head before bringing it down to hack at the doorknob. In one fell swoop, the door serving as barricade is dismantled.

Jun-Hee kicks the door nearly off its hinges, revealing Kyung-Jun and his gang, all flabbergasted at having been caught in their act.

Kyung-Jun throws his bottle against the ground, the water spilling and diluting the blood stains on the floor as it splatters all over, color fading the further it drags from Woo-Ram’s slumped-over form.

“Dammit, Kim Jun-Hee. You ruin everything.”

Your eyes widen at the horrible state Woo-Ram is in, all bloody and injured. One eye is swollen shut, bruised and swelling beyond recongition. Blood is running down his leg, dripping in incessant drops onto the floor like his own tears of blood.

“You bastards!” Jun-Hee screeches, swinging the ax he’s still brandishing.

“Are you sure we are? Kyung-Jun presses, even as his goons cower away in the corner, eyeing the light glinting off the ax’s blade. “Didn’t you catch a word of what Woo-Ram said?”

“Son of a bitch!” Jun-Hee spits out, advancing on Kyung-Jun, eyes set, hard and cold.

You jump in between the two and grab a hold of Jun-Hee’s arms. “Don’t!” you beg. “I won’t let you stoop to his level!”

His hands shake violently in yours, fists tightening around the handle of the ax by his side. “I need to kill him!” he says, looking crazed. “Only when he's gone will this be over!”

“What will that make you, then?!” You step closer to Jun-Hee, close enough that he has no choice but to look down at you and into your pleading eyes. “You’re better than this!”

He finally drops the ax down by your feet, raising his head in defeat, jaw shaking with suppressed anger. With one last glare at Kyung-Jun, he goes over wordlessly and helps Yoon-Seo, Jung-Won, and So-Mi as they attempt to untie Woo-Ram who appears more dead than alive.

Your gaze narrows in on the pen sticking out from the middle of his thigh, fresh blood still spurting from the wound. The location—the precise location—of targeting the femoral artery, one of the most dangerous anatomical landmarks to attack could only mean one thing.

Kyung-Jun wanted him to die.

You turn around and round on Kyung-Jun in anger at the possibility of having been swayed by his lies.

The vote you so carefully considered was too late to rescind.

As your frustration boils over, it instinctively turns into physical action, your clenched fists pounding against his chest repeatedly. “Why did you do it?!” Kyung-Jun just watches you intently, letting you hit him without putting up a fight, signaling for Seung-Bin and Jin-Ha to leave it be. “Did you want to be right so bad that you had to take Woo-Ram hostage and coerce him into lying by threatening him to the brink of death?!” Whether your outburst even has the slightest capacity to change anything didn’t matter to you, serving its only purpose of being an outlet for your pent-up resentment at the gravity of the situation. Each strike is more forceful than the last, in defiance and resistance toward the injustices and mistreatment that came naturally like breathing to Kyung-Jun. You look up at him, eyes burning. “Just once…could you not cause trouble?”

He grabs your forearms and pins you against the nearest wall, holding you still, pressed between him and the wall. "I could, but then I wouldn't be me, and that would be tragic."

You try to yank your arms away but he steps closer, leaning his face close to yours and gripping your fists still against his chest even as you writhe in his hold, pure rage and bitterness emanating off you. “Why can you never be a good person?”

“And yet,” he drawls, lips quirking. “You believed me.”

“I know now that I shouldn’t have. I regret it,” you say irately through clenched teeth.

The smirk falls from his face and he leans in even closer, fixing you with such an intense gaze, a tangle of various emotions in his eyes you can’t begin to unravel even if you tried. "Why do you have to complicate things?" His dark eyes bore into your own, staring you down. “You always make me weak and I hate it.”

“I trusted you,” you utter quietly, and his eyes shift imperceptibly, the corners now downturned. “How foolish of me…” With how close Kyung-Jun was standing, you can see his Adam’s apple bobbing, like he’s holding back from saying something he knows he shouldn’t. “If my trust makes you weak…” you pause, “…then consider this the first and last time that I will ever be on your side.” You turn your head to the left, away from his dark eyes, even duskier in the low-lit room, ending the conversation.

You feel his heart pound erratically beneath your right fist where it’s laid over the left side of his chest, his hand still wound around yours.

Jun-Hee finally sees your predicament as the rest supports a hobbling Woo-Ram out of the room and runs over to wrench Kyung-Jun away from you.

He doesn’t put up a fight at all, staggering back without saying a word. Although you avert your eyes, you can still feel his on you.

Jun-Hee shields you behind his back protectively. “Cut it out,” he tells Kyung-Jun. “You’re a horrible excuse of a person.”

“Come to your senses, idiot,” Kyung-Jun ridicules, pointing at the clock striking midnight before he gestures to the hallway outside where everyone’s gathered.

You follow Jun-Hee out into the hall where Ji-Soo and Yu-Jun have just arrived hand-in-hand, Mi-Na in tow, the couple’s votes being announced.

[ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴊɪ-sᴏᴏ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ. ]

[ ᴄʜᴀ ʏᴜ-ᴊᴜɴ ʜᴀs ᴠᴏᴛᴇᴅ ғᴏʀ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ. ]

Woo-Ram slumps to the floor on his knees, crying and punching linoleum to no avail. “I should’ve killed Kyung-Jun when I had the chance,” he laments. “Why die alone?”

He quickly stumbles back into the room and picks up the ax left on the ground earlier before dashing back out, his good eye widening. With nothing left to lose, Woo-Ram smiles widely, baring his teeth as he stares straight at Kyung-Jun. “You’re leaving with me tonight.”

Kyung-Jun tries to evade as Woo-Ram swings the ax wildly with abandon. “Are you fucking crazy?!”

No one dares to step in, the sharp and deadly weapon too fatal to stop.

Dead set on taking Kyung-Jun’s life, Woo-Ram is too far gone to care if anyone else were to become collateral damage, recklessly chopping at anything impeding him.

“I’ll kill you if it’s the last thing I do. You deserve a painful death.” Woo-Ram chases Kyung-Jun to the end of the hall, the latter ducking to avoid a hit on target but slams into the wall in his haste, tripping on his own feet and slides down, pressed against the wall in fear, an expression you’ve never seen on his face until this moment.

Just as Woo-Ram raises the ax above his head ready to slice into Kyung-Jun who is caught off guard frozen in fear, he freezes, jerking backward on his feet.

[ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴏᴛɪɴɢ ʜᴀs ᴄᴏɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇᴅ. ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴠᴏᴛᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴇxᴇᴄᴜᴛᴇᴅ. ]

You can only watch in horror, falling to your knees on the floor as Woo-Ram turns the blade around and lets it fall against the top of his head, splicing his own skull in half. Blood sprays in arcs, splattering on your face and Kyung-Jun’s, the two closest in position to Woo-Ram.

Your eyes cease to blink as Woo-Ram’s lifeless body drops with a thud face-first right in front of you, the ax still deeply embedded into his skullcap, his brain becoming more visible by the second as the blade drops and continues to cut.

[ ᴘᴀʀᴋ ᴡᴏᴏ-ʀᴀᴍ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴍᴀғɪᴀ. ]

“See?” Kyung-Jun looks around at everyone, even as he’s taking in ragged gulps of air. “Didn’t I tell you I wasn’t lying?” The last sentence is directed entirely at you, his eyes fixed on yours, a single tear escaping from the corner of his left eye, betraying the smirk he has plastered on his face. Even then, his crooked grin is faltering, lips trembling.

You stare helplessly at the floor, not knowing whether to be relieved for having chosen correctly or hate that you readily sent a classmate to their death.

The conversation with Hyun-Ho earlier on in the night echoes in your mind.

No, we’re not evil people…We’re merely people surrounded by evil and we have no choice, the only way out being to go through it.

Your heart sinks as you realize he was sorely mistaken.

To survive by the deaths of others is not salvation.

The body lives.

But the heart decays.

If you all make it through to the other side, it doesn’t mean you were able to escape from evil.

No.

It means you all have already come face to face with the Devil himself and begged to be allowed past.

And he only ever shakes hands with those whose souls are tarnished, their innocence tainted.

We’ve become evil people.

𝟬𝟱: 𝗛𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗦 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 | 𝟬𝟳 : 𝗔𝗟𝗠𝗢𝗦𝗧 𝗜𝗦 𝗡𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 𝗘𝗡𝗢𝗨𝗚𝗛

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© 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭 𝐠𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐟’ 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐇𝐚𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞. 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐰𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨, 𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞, 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐧𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞��-𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐭. 𝐀𝐥𝐬𝐨, 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐞, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞, 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐛𝐮𝐭𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐢𝐭 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐚 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞.

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