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thesacrificialdove · 1 month ago

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tags sugar daddy, rich yandere, low-key obsessive behaviour, first meetings, college student reader, age gap, brief mention of a rapist (no description or anything more)

—📜" Being a broke college student, you decide to try your hand at getting a sugar daddy. You find someone who is... quite eager to know everything about you. It's weird because he doesn't seem to be the same person he was online.

They say to spend your youth on nightclubs and partying with friends. But really, they don’t know the true beauty of being in a jazz club and drinking all by yourself. There’s no ill intentions, there’s no partying until the sun goes down—just some nice music and good drinks.

People find it odd, sure. But nothing can beat this feeling for you. As you lay in a couch that’s worth double your college tuition, you drink champagne that's triple your college tuition.

How you ended up here is another embarrassing story. Hunting for a sugar daddy online is a clear plan for destruction. It could end well with a decent allowance every now and then, of course. Yet, fear gets the most of you. The thought that you end up with a fat well and alive man who asks for sex with his small dick looms over you like a gloomy cloud. That fear is there because your sugar daddy is anonymous.

Sighing, you drink another sip of the champagne as you fix your posture. Again. The seat in front of you is still empty. You’d think he wasn’t really being honest with you but he did have a reservation ready for the both of you.

It’s not bad to wait. Even if you do look dumb getting stood up, at least you’re enjoying yourself.

“You lonely there?” someone asks behind you.

Turning your head behind you, you see a towering man with a smile so bright you think you could be blinded by it. He looks elegant—the way he’s holding a glass like a connoisseur and his long black hair pulled into a slick ponytail. Fuck, is he your sugar daddy? He looks the age for it and honestly, he aged really good.

You tell him, “Maybe. Are you lonely?”

He chuckles and takes the seat opposite. Finally. “No,” he says, “not anymore, at least. All thanks to…?” he gestures to you.

When you tell him his name, he parrots it like he’s tasting it. “Beautiful. Your mother picked it out?”

“I’m sure so,” you don’t know, who the hell would know that? “It’s a generational name, really. In our family we keep reusing names.”

“So are you the second? The third?”

The third was your great grandfather but he ended up being a rapist. Eugh. “The fourth,” you answer. “But I never tell anyone that, actually. Bit embarrassing if they call me the fourth, so.”

He laughs, somehow finding you amusing. “Nicolas,” he says, “very nice to meet you.”

Was… his name Nicolas? You’re not so sure about that. From the site he only revealed his last name so that you could get the reservation. Huh.

“Nice to meet you, Nicolas.” The little twitch in his lips is unavoidable to your eyes, “You look very nice tonight,” maybe that’s why he took almost an hour to arrive here. “Do you live near here or?”

“Oh, no,” he shakes his head, “I come from Bolzano. But I came here from Portofino, where my heart currently is.”

You nod like you know where those places really are. Italy, you assume. “Very nice. I heard it’s a beautiful place.”

“Beatiful even more with company,” he puts his drink down. “How about you? What makes you come here?”

You, actually. You wanted to go here. “I was raised by my grandfather and jazz was his favourite. Every corner of the house Hank Mobley would be playing. I have his old records that he passed down to me and whenever I play it, I can see the way he dances.”

“So, come down here for a little trip to memory lane?”

Before you could answer, you think about it even more. The man you were talking was definitely not Italian, right? No, his name sounded British, at most. And Nicolas sounds like he has little to no knowledge about the fact that you two are supposedly on a date.

Fuck, did you get him wrong? I mean, he is interested, you think.

“Yeah, it’s nice,” you hum. You put your glass down too, clasping your hands. “I think I do need to go now. It was nice to have your company—”

“Going so soon? A bit rude especially if you came here to be mine for a price, no?”

You pause. Though you’re ready to leave this embarrassing meeting, you’re caught. You turn to him in confusion. So you were… wrong? Right?

“Sit back down, this champagne is a bit too new to me.” He raises a hand and someone immediately finds their footing beside him. Nicolas speaks in his own tongue, requesting something you don’t understand.

You’re promptly back on your seat with a small wave of his hand. “Come on, I think we have a lot to learn about each other. But I know you.”

Did he send in a private investigator or what? Fuck, man. You didn’t think that those things were real in real life. “How much do you know?”

He doesn’t answer. His legs are crossed as he watches the busboy leave to prepare your drinks. “How are your classes?” he asks, making idle conversation of things you’re a bit worried to talk to him about. “Hope you’re dealing well.”

“Yeah,” you say, unsure of this now. “It’s all fine, yes. Just a few projects and classes.” You wonder for a moment how rude it would be to ask for a price on your body right now. “Nothing interesting, really.”

“I’m sure anything you say is of interest,” he says, all too fond of you. “Tell me, love, you mentioned having difficulties with some of your professors.”

He wasn’t interested in all that before when you were talking. “It’s fine. Well, not like I can say no. It’s a bit hard when you’re paying for an education and you’re not being taught,” you laugh, “Self-taught learning, he excuses.”

“That’s simply lazy,” he excuses. “Fine arts is such a nice career path. No reason to be dismissive of students who want to learn it.”

Did you tell him what you’re studying?

The busboy returns and brings a drink to the both of you. The song changes and it sounds familiar. You could almost see your grandfather dance behind Nicolas.

“I’m going to guess that’s your doing,” you say, “Thank you. It sounds lovely.”

He smiles, “I’m not one for jazz myself.” He reaches for his glass and swirls in, taking a whiff of its scent afterward. “But I’m curious as to who you are. How you grew up is one of those things”

When the both of you talked online, you expected him to be more lustful than this. Maybe it’s the repeating innuendo in his messages. All of that persona is gone now as if it never existed. It’s concerning.

Both of you make small conversation. Mostly it’s about you. He asks every little detail about you, asking for things that not even your friends would care about. It’s the little things.

‘Do you like soft cotton or silk?’ You don’t really know the difference but cotton is nice.

‘How often do you see your family?’ Every or so month, you’d wager. But you make sure to keep in contact.

‘What’s your thoughts on caged animals?’ A bit cruel, but you can see where it can stem from. Still, it’s cruel. You’d never do it.

The night come to a close when you start to feel a bit light-headed with the drinks you’ve ingested. Nicolas puts aside your glass as he stands to go on your side of the table. “Maybe it’s time to take a break tonight, love?”

You groan. “Yeah, I guess that’s fine now. I’m really thankful for tonight.”

“I’m glad,” he says, pulling you up and helping you walk. You don’t need it but it’s nice anyways. “I can take you back to your dorm, yes? You don’t need to worry about anything else when you’re with me.”

In your pocket, your phone buzzes. You don’t get to check it when Nicolas wraps both of his arms around your waist. He pulls you to the exit and you swear you hear ‘Signore Giordano’ come out when the men bid him goodnight.

Which is weird, because his surname is Abbot.

The ride was a blur, literally. Maybe you’ve had too much to drink. The next thing you know is that both of you are in front of your dorm. It’s too dark outside. The streets are dead silent. The low rumble of his car is the only thing you can really hear.

He calls your name. “It’s time to go home. You can’t stay with me yet, love.”

You stretch in the seat. A car seat has never been more comfortable. “Been nice, really. Thank you.”

As you unbuckle your seat, he leans forward. His arm drapes over your shoulders as his hand comes to your face. “Then can I get a little reward? Just a little?” He turns his cheek, a grin on his face.

It’s stupid but oh well, he would pay you. You press a kiss on his cheek and he looks like the happiest man alive. He laughs, looking at you with stupid heart eyes. “Thank you. Call me with this number—” he places a card in your hands—”and delete that damn app. I’ll come find you after your classes tomorrow for your contract. You don’t need to find anyone else now.”

He leaves shortly after you get inside your dorm. You hear the revving of his car go in the quiet night. It’s relieving. You’re tired on your feet, unable to really process what happened tonight.

It’s whatever. It’s all done now.

You delete the app on your phone, swiping away a message you got from it. You’re pretty sure it’s from another match you had last time but again, you don’t need it anymore.

do not redistrubute this work as yours/without permission or feed to AI 📷 art by @ L0tus_Ren_ & @ Ivan Belikov

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brujaluas · 3 months ago

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How will your spouse see you after you start dating/get married with them?

(I have to say that I'm obsessed with the whole aesthetic of Nosferatu and The Phantom of the Opera, besides being completely fascinated by the films I've seen, I'm fascinated by the talent and beauty of the actresses, I want to live that lol)

pile 1

they will love your free and adventurous spirit, you are the same, but you are at different stages of life, one is more mature than the other, but the two of you will be a perfect match, it is as if your spouse were singing that song "Is somebody gonna match my freak?", and you answer "I definitely will", some of you here were more stuck in themselves, but you will give the person the opportunity to understand that they can also have fun, go to parties and things like that, you will become a very lively and friendly couple <3

pile 2

we have the obsessed ones in this pile, but not in a bad way, they will see you as the sky, the sun, the moon, the stars in their sky, they are very romantic and devoted to you, it reminds me of the song Religion by Lana del Rey, the moon can be important here, I don't know why, maybe they would ask the moon for giving somebody like you, and they got! they will want kiss your skin under the moonlight, as mentioned, they see you almost as a religion, and they are still very proud of you, that you may be younger than them or somehow have this more youthful air than them, and you will achieve so many things and they will be happy for you, it also reminds me of those old couples in love that we saw in funny cartoons.

pile 3

as the queen of their lives, regardless of gender, it is as if you rule their lives, some may idealize you too much in some way and put you on a pedestal. you are in the same moment in life, but you have different personalities and ways of dealing with things, and they like that, it is as if the difference that you have from each other made them more passionate and enchanted, sometimes, for the most part, differences drive people apart, but in this relationship it will only add up.

#tarot reading #tarot readings #tarot #divination #witchy things #pick a card #free tarot #tarot deck #tarot cards #pick a pile reading #pick a card reading #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a picture #oracle cards #oracle

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ozzgin · 4 months ago

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We have yandere school,, but what about yan! Restaurant? 👀

You've only ever visited this particular restaurant once, but the food was just so good that you can't help but come back from time to time! And, oh.. The workers and manager there can't help but favor you a lot more than the rest ♡

I'm not sure if you meant it in the sense that the restaurant is a regular, normal business, and the staff became obsessed with you, or if the restaurant is quite literally advertised as a yandere service. I went for the latter, for the memes. Content: gender neutral reader, parody?, horde of (adult) yanderes

Yandere!Restaurant provides you with an extensive list of employees to choose from. From grey-haired and soft-spoken, to brash and youthful; the restaurant guarantees you will find your matching server within their impressive catalog.

Alright, where is the menu? Most customers are indeed taken aback when presented with a leather-bound book of blank pages. The gesture is quickly followed by a second, much thinner folder: a questionnaire, and an agreement to be stalked.

You see, Yandere!Restaurant has a particular modus operandi - you provide them with the basics: your full name and date of birth. Everything else will be uncovered by the yandere themselves. Once they have found you, the true serving process begins.

The first part is always the longest, hence their recommendation to book months in advance if you're a new customer. It's the research phase. Your chosen server will follow you around and gather all the needed information.

"No, thank you, it's too sweet for me", you tell a friend offering you some of their snack. From within the shadows, a cloaked figure scribbles down furiously.

The second and final phase is your usual dining experience. You are seated at the table and presented with your dishes. They have been carefully curated to match your taste in that very moment. Maybe you'd recently hoped you could eat your childhood favorite again. Maybe you'd seen a social media post about a trending dessert, and wished to try it out yourself. No matter the reason, know that it has been skillfully uncovered by your loyal server.

"This is..."

You gasp quietly and cover your mouth with a napkin. The taste is exquisite, filling you with a wave of nostalgia. How did they know? This is exactly what you wanted.

Why, of course. It was made with utmost love and attention. Won't you visit them again, (Y/N)?

[More Yandere Scenarios]

#yandere restaurant #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios

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floatyflowers · 3 months ago

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Dark Male Evil King x Wife! Reader

"Why? What sin has my son committed to be killed in that way? "

You wail over the dead body of your son while your husband, looks down coldly at the both of you, feeling emotionless over the fact that he murdered, Snow White, his stepson.

"Stop weeping, he was nothing but a pest"

You couldn't believe Grimhild's callousness, he used to be so kind in the beginning of your marriage and treated your son kindly even considering him his own son.

Until that Mirror hurt his vanity by saying that Snow White is the fairest of them all, and the evil King being obsessed with youth and beauty, doesn't decided to kill your son.

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as she clung to the lifeless form of Snow White.

''He was a sweet boy, kind and generous like his father,'' you whispered, with a shaky voice.

Hearing you mention your first husband infuriated Grimhild, reminding him that you belonged to someone before him.

The Evil King loves you to the point of obessesion, that's why one of the main reasons he murdered Snow White is just to get rid of the last living memory of your late husband.

If he grow old and ugly, you might leave him for someone much younger and handsome.

The Evil King gets down on his knees beside you before embracing your shaking form.

"Now hush, we could always have a child of our own to replace Snow White."

Part 2

#The Evil King x reader #tw: toxic relationships #reader insert #wife reader #disney x reader #yandere disney #snow white

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sugar-grigri · 2 months ago

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Pochita, if you can read, why don't you speak ?

Wouldn't it be humane to protect humanity and demonic to protect the underworld? And what if... it was actually the other way around.

The interweaving of questions and answers is exactly what this chapter does.

While Yoru sordidly states that children are nothing more than the property of their parents, the one who can't speak, instead of devouring a human as he did with all those demons, decides to go to the blood drive.

Pochita understood what the sign meant. He knows how to talk. But he'd rather hold up that sign and roar than make any demands.

Worse still, he does not decide to give any orders.

It's not words that symbolise order, it's that raised index finger that already in Roman times expressed command.

In the United States, arms are a constitutional right (as recently reiterated by the Supreme Court, which does not admit of any restrictions), a fundamental freedom but also a means of preserving one's freedom, allowing organised militias to fight and protect the State.

You can see how it's all a construction, the weapons are a technological creation, the State is an administrative and political creation.

And that's where things get interesting. First of all, this chapter is highly symbolic and has a very strong political message (oh my god, political interpretation in a manga, impossible..........)

Yoru has sliced off the index fingers of those who support the right to bear arms in the United States. Or campaign for that freedom. But what Yoru is doing. In fact, it's taking it away from them. How can I shoot without this index finger? You can't do it.

It's by taking weapons away from men that they actually regain their freedom.

But it goes even further than that. Why does Yoru sacrifice these fingers? Because it reinforces the fear of weapons. Let's say I point a gun at you (sorry). You'd be less scared if you were as armed as I am. Especially when you're trained, know how to defend yourself and aren't afraid to shoot.

Yoru makes those who thought they were invincible with weapons vulnerable. She strengthens the Gun Devil's power. She contracts with them through her sacrificed child.

Weapons,

freedom,

deprivation of childhood,

of loved ones,

obsession with a mentor,

To think that a god created them.

Remind you of anyone?

Infanticide is what makes you immortal.

The sacrificed demons become weapons, lost between humanity and the demons. Not being human, nor demon, because they have no parents. Even artificial weapons like Reze and Katana display these characteristics. Isn't loneliness one of the ingredients?

Humanity sacrifices its children. As Fujimoto confirmed, they were prepared to do it for eternal youth.

And now you're going to say to me. NOOOO! Yoru too! Just as Makima wouldn't hesitate to do. The demons are also ready to do it.

Yes, because they are influenced by men.

Yoru speaks, uniting with humanity to say horrible things. Whereas Pochita doesn't speak. Worse still, he has chosen not to speak. Worst of the worst, even worse. He'd rather be a dog than a human. That's his choice.

Pochita fights for those he loves, he doesn't sacrifice them.

The demon of birth, it swallows but can spit out. Suspending existence, giving it new life, denying none of it.

Wasn't Makima devoured by Denji proof of this?

Nayuta is the symbol of this rebirth. A perpetual love that surpasses hate.

Pochita loves demons. He also loves those who mean something to him, like Denji. But he also knows that when we become too human, we can end up sacrificing ourselves out of vanity rather than love.

Pochita has sacrificed himself for love, without expecting anything in return as he waits permanently for Denji's dreams.

He is also Denji's lock, preventing him from fully adapting to men.

That's why killing Black CSM was Denji's wish come true. Because Pochita is preventing Denji from becoming normal.

Because he wants to protect him from humanity. Pochita has never been for humanity.

He is simply the guardian of the underworld, all those demons whose existence he guards, a supreme mother. Humanity must endure in order to continue to be afraid. But if humanity is prepared to overcome the ultimate fear of losing its child, then fear is scorned.

So Pochita tried to wipe out the weapons' existence, to devour them. But they still existed. Why? Because they are already the result of infanticide.

being devoured by the demon of birth, mother of the underworld, actually reinforces their existence.

Being devoured by their mother is the reason for their nature.

Whereas weapons are beings born because their mother has killed them.

Denji is the result of the death of the Supreme Mother.

It's not a weapon.

He's a wall.

Hero of the underworld.

A hero of the underworld who has been fighting from the start for the victory of love, sacrificing himself for those he loves and not sacrificing them. So he asks for blood.

And I'm sorry. If weapons really are born like that, they have to look human, and I think this is the last possessed human.

Someone's been ringing the doorbell.....for 100 chapters… it's time to answer it, isn't it?

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peacheeeliz · 4 months ago

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EMPIRES

SYNOPSIS ⤏ you're trying to peacefully build your starter house on the empires server when your neighbor so rudely (accidentally) kills you, starting the biggest war on the server just one day in.

PARING ⤏ idol!jung yunho x streamer!fem reader

GENRE ⤏ smau, rom-com, fluff, "enemies" to friends to lovers, some written

FEATURING ⤏ ateez, txt, aespa, and sungchan from riize

FACECLAIM ⤏ faceclaim for y/n purely for picture purposes!! (@ sullendin on ig)

WARNINGS ⤏ swearing, a lot of dnd/bg3 references, pls ignore timestamps 💔, mentions of minecraft alliances, wars, and deaths, sexual and kms/kys jokes

STARTED ⤏ 8/21/2024

STATUS ⤏ complete ♡

NOTE ⤏ i've been so obsessed with minecraft youtubers lately 💀 so i decided to do a fun little story inspired by the empires smp that ldshadowlady and her friends did awhile back!

PROFILES & CHAPTERS

THOT POCKETS | 8TEEZ | EMPIRES SMP

001. apology video w/ tears

002. you're dead to me

003. yucloudz

004. count your days

005. wooyoung's emojis (1.5k wc)

006. huggy wuggy backpack

007. he's a pain in my as-

008. begging PLEADING PLEASE KQ PLEASE

009. you're delusional man

010. ominous but ok!!

011. hurry up we're hungry (1k wc)

012. whore

013. MY FRAME RATES

014. ew gross

015. AM NOT

016. WHY TF IS MY SON IN A PAN

017. my sweet boy

018. mingi go to bed

019. "sohee!" we all say in unison (1k wc)

020. choke me pls 🫶

021. did i fuck up

022. she called me baby

023. hey pretty (904 wc)

024. i'm out

025. only for you pretty (946 wc)

026. pls drop it

027. MATCH MY FREAK?

028. it's all coming together

029. very demure, very cutesy

030. my little emperor

BONUS

bonus 1: domestic yucloudz

bonus 2: gaslighting her way out of a scandal

bonus 3: atz members kidnapping y/n

☆©peacheeeliz, 2024

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ taglist is closed!

#ateez #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez social media au #ateez smau #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop social media au #kpop smau #yunho #yunho smau #yunho fanfic #kpop fanfic #yunho au

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langernameohnebedeutung · 19 days ago

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there's a lot of valid takes on why Gen Z is becoming radicalised at the rate they are - all that misinformation, tiktok, red pill, the pandemic - all have good points. But I think another factor is that even politically, their sense of normalcy is entirely different to the one of prior generations. The spiral of the last 15 years, the way the Overton window has moved, the change of style and tone in political discourse, the normalisation of anti-democratic ideas, the obsession with people's private lives, the topics that are front and centre during elections these days, the changing concept of the respect and dignity expected in a public office (god I sound like a boomer) - all of that was shocking to us.

the three generations of my family, all born and raised in VERY different time periods from one another, we've all just been equally shocked and horrified again and again these last 15 years - not just by what is happening but how it is happening and by what is possible and how easy it is to make a total mockery of the democracy and the rule of law. For all of us, that was a feeling of realising that something we implicitly trusted in to the point that it didn't need talking about ... just falling away. Or proving to always have been an illusion to begin with. To someone who grows up right now, this safety and security has NEVER existed.

But for these kids - the window of their life where they start becoming politically and culturally aware basically coincides with this downward spiral and I think that makes many of them blind or numb to it. I think for many of them, that's just their understanding of how things naturally progress and politics works. That the way previous generations evaluate the current situation - this framework of intentional manipulation and misinformation and radicalisation - is just fair and acceptable behaviour and that of course politicians manipulate the discourse to get what they want and of course it is normal to tell brazen lies and spread panic if that gets you what you want and if you're loyal to the party, you parrot those lines whether you really believe in them or not. (And let's be honest with ourselves - the seed to that has always been there)

And others, who I imagine intellectually know that things are going downhill, are really stuck in this extremely mind-numbing fatalist mindset (climate change is gonna kill us all anyway, haha) which makes you hopeless and desperate. And being hopeless and desperate also makes you vulnerable to all kinds of manipulation and radicalisation - because the offer you a perspective. Or meaning.

If you think about the trad-wife and redpill stuff or generally christian nationalism but also any movement that instrumentalises history with ideological narratives, you notice that their narratives place periods of stability way back in time in periods that match aspects of their idelogy e.g. their fetishisation of the 1950s. Then they come up with some horrible bad evil enemy that destroyed that paradise and created the 'degenerate' misery we live in now. Authoritarians and ideologues and cults have always done this. It's part of constructing the mutual enemy.

Beause this way, they can create their illusion of this kind of mythical, unreachable utopia (the past) that fascists love and attach all kinds of conditions to reaching that - with no pressure for them to ever actually deliver: women staying at home, racial segregation, christian hegemony, eugenics, absolute exclusion of gay and trans identities etc. This doesn't just have the benefit of pushing their politics on a confused youth (though that's a big benefit) - it also helps them hide from young people that these last 15 years, they literally created the chaos that these kids are living in. They sowed this situation and right now, with the radicalisation of the youth, they are reaping the rewards.

And the thing is, we can blame the Tiktok or whatever but I also think it is important that we let younger people know and feel that what's happening right now - is just not normal and not sustainable.

And yes, we need to let go of the naive illusion that "the kid are going to save the world". We should never have had that. But I also don't think a radical heel-turn vilifying all of Gen Z is going to help anyone or do justice to the situation.

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girlactionfigure · 13 days ago

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let Anne Frank rest

NOVEMBER 11, 2024

THIS IS DISRESPECTFUL

ANNE, MARGOT, THEIR MOTHER, AND FATHER WERE ZIONISTS

Here’s the thing: we have absolutely no way of knowing how Anne Frank would feel about today’s Israel-Hamas war, because her life was brutally cut short by the Nazis at just 15 years old. Is it possible that she would be attending pro-Palestine marches and donning keffiyehs? Sure, it’s possible. A minority of Jews do that.

Here’s what we know for sure: in her own famous diary, Anne Frank wrote that she was interested in Zionism. Her sister, Margot Frank, was an ardent Zionist. She joined the Dutch Zionist youth club in 1941, and hoped to make aliyah (immigrate) to Mandatory Palestine, where she planned on becoming a midwife for the Yishuv (pre-state Jewish community in Palestine).

Otto Frank, the only family member to survive the war, was very, very strongly pro-Israel, particularly after the Holocaust (whereas beforehand, he was slightly more ambivalent, though never anti-Zionist). In fact, in the 1970s, Otto had a disagreement with the Anne Frank House, as he demanded that the museum’s statutes explicitly affirm Israel’s right to exist — a right much of today’s keffiyeh-wearing pro-Palestine movement doesn’t accept.

We don’t know how Anne would feel today. But we do know how most Holocaust survivors feel. Not only do most Holocaust survivors -- like most Jews -- support Israel, but 49% of today’s remaining 245,000 survivors live in Israel. It’s even possible that Anne may have moved to Israel had she survived the war; after all, Israel absorbed nearly 400,000 Holocaust survivor refugees between 1946-1952, including Anne’s childhood best friend, Hanna Goslar.

APPROPRIATION OF OUR TRAUMA, AGAIN

I’ve talked about Holocaust inversion on this account for years. I have numerous posts on it, with more coming. But perhaps I haven’t made this explicitly clear yet: Holocaust inversion -- that is, the depiction of Jews and/or Israelis as Nazis, crypto-Nazis, or “worse than the Nazis” and the Palestinians as the “true” victims of the Holocaust -- is a blatant appropriation of the Jewish people’s worst collective trauma.

That is not to say that Palestinians don’t endure pain. Of course they do, and pain and trauma can’t exactly be quantified. But this obsession with stripping Jews of our very unique, deeply painful experience and placing it onto someone else is deeply offensive. At a certain point, it almost looks like these people have Holocaust envy, which is bizarre and frankly deeply disturbing.

Why would you want this? For six years, the international community stood by as nearly 70% of Europe’s Jewish population was exterminated in the most industrialized genocide in human history. Countries all over the world shut their doors to Jewish refugees. The Allies refused to bomb the death camps and the railroads leading to the camps, despite the desperate pleas from the Jewish community. In 1939, there were 16.6 million Jews in the world. Today, 85 years later, we just scrape 15 million. This is not what has ever happened to Palestinians, whose population has not decreased by even half a percentage point since 1948, not even since October 7, and not even in Gaza (as there have been more births than deaths, according to Hamas and Save the Children).

Even more infuriating? Not even did Palestinian Arab leadership collaborate with the Nazis during the Holocaust -- and in 1948 -- but public opinion polls from the time period demonstrate most Palestinian Arabs favored Nazi Germany. Enough. You don’t get to take this one from us, because your ancestors, too, were complicit during the Holocaust.

STOP IMPOSING IDENTITIES ON JEWS

As I explained in a recent post, antisemitism can arguably be divided into two categories: (1) “Nazi antisemitism,” which seeks to eliminate Jews physically, and (2) “Hanukkah antisemitism,” which seeks to strip Jews of the qualities that make us Jewish. In other words, forced assimilation.

Anne Frank was a Jewish child. She was born in Germany and later became Dutch. Never in her lifetime would she have worn a Palestinian keffiyeh, because at the time, the Palestinian keffiyeh was the official uniform of British officer Sir John Bagot Glubb’s “Desert Patrol,” comprised of Palestinian and Jordanian Arab Bedouins who were loyal to the British police force in Mandatory Palestine. Since Anne Frank was neither a Bedouin nor a member of Glubb’s Desert Patrol, putting the keffiyeh on her -- a murdered child -- is nothing but imposing an identity on her that isn’t hers.

Maybe this sounds dramatic, or like it shouldn’t be a big deal. But this is also part of a larger pattern of Palestinians appropriating Jewish historical figures and claiming them as their own (the Jesus comes to mind).

And this is not a matter of doing this just to historical figures, but to living, breathing Jews. For example, several of the released Hamas hostages testified that Hamas threatened to forcibly convert them to Islam, much like their ancestors once did to ours when they conquered the Holy Land from the Byzantines in the 7th century.

IF YOU ACTUALLY CARED ABOUT ANNE FRANK, YOU WOULD CARE ABOUT THIS

On November 7, 2024, a premeditated pogrom took place in the streets of Amsterdam -- Anne Frank’s Amsterdam.

Thousands of pro-Palestinians supporters ambushed Israeli Maccabi Tel Aviv fans as they were leaving a Maccabi Tel Aviv-AFC Ajax soccer match. Much like on October 7, the perpetrators live-streamed themselves stabbing Israelis and Jews, running over Israelis and Jews, throwing firecrackers at Israelis and Jews, and beating Israelis and Jews to a pulp, as the Amsterdam police looked the other way. They stole their phones and passports, and for some time, some of the victims were missing. Jews tried to hide in a canal, in boats, in a KFC, and more, just like the Franks hid in an attic. The perpetrators forced the victims to shout “free Palestine!” They attacked not just men, but women and children. Not all of the victims were Maccabi Tel Aviv fans, or Israelis, but all of the victims were Jews -- or perceived to be Jews.

Of course, it wasn’t long until antisemites -- and the mainstream media -- spun the event, which, again, had not only been premeditated, but the perpetrators had dubbed “a Jew hunt” (in fact, it was so premeditated Israel had forewarned the Dutch police). They said it was simply soccer hooligans brawling, or that it happened because the day before, a few Israelis had torn down a Palestinian flag, or because some of the Maccabi fans had chanted racist chants. In this regard, they’re in terrible company: every pogrom in history has had its “justification;” sometimes the justification is based on a true event; other times, it’s pure fiction (e.g. blood libel). Kristallnacht, the pogrom that marks the beginning of the Holocaust, was excused because a Jew killed a German diplomat in Paris.

Are some Maccabi fans racist? It seems so. That’s no justification for an attempted lynching. Imagine if Jews tried to lynch pro-Palestinian protestors every time they chant antisemitic chants (“globalize the intifada,” “Khaybar, Khaybar ya Yahud,” for example), or every time an Israeli flag or hostage poster is torn down. None of us would have jobs, because this happens daily, multiple times a day, everywhere in the world.

For over a year, Dutch Jewish community leaders have warned of a hostile, dangerous environment for Jews in the Netherlands, and in Amsterdam more specifically. The Central Jewish Consultation, the official Jewish umbrella organization in the Netherlands, defined the November 7 mob attacks as a “pogrom” and tied it to the growing antisemitic climate in the country, which existed long before any Maccabi Tel Aviv fans showed up in Amsterdam.

As usual, however, antisemites are tokenizing the words of fringe Jews whose views are not representative of the community.

The Chief Rabbi of the Netherlands also issued a damning statement, noting the hostile, antisemitic climate in the country.

The above is true. But this is not a one-off event. The Netherlands has been failing the Jewish community for a long, long time. These situations don’t escalate out of nowhere. Instead of offering us your apologies and condolences after the fact, take decisive action.

For a full bibliography of my sources, please head over to my Instagram and Patreon.

rootsmetals

another post I started working on before November 7 that suddenly became very relevant…

#Anne Frank

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luna-loveboop · 10 months ago

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Currently obsessed with the idea that the boys go to Time for love advice, since "he's married so he knows this stuff right?"

I mean they couldn't recognize a wedding ring??? And neither did he???

And time was saying this in his youth I mean cmon

Twilight: So ancestor. What would you do if like. Malon left to another world and never came back

Time: ... bro Malon called me fairy boy and then we were married like what

Hyrule: So uhh old man. How does one. Meet a girl.

Time: By speaking to her I guess? Or not, Malon did the talking for me

Hyrule: riiiiight...

Wild *no tact*: Hey so like... what if your redheaded wife who's name started with M died.

Time: what?!?!

Wild, undeterred: but like before she proposed.

Time: ...

Wild: and you don't remember if you would have said yes. What's your advice for dealing with that?

Time: ... vent to a fairy?

Warriors: hey old man

Time: no no no not this one asking me please

Warriors: how do I get women to stop coming after me. So I can ya know. Choose without war trying to force me into relationships

Time: I can safely say I've never had that problem captain

Wars: of course not *smirks*

Wars: ok but seriously how do I make them go away

Time: ... wear a wedding ring so they think you're taken, I've got a shiny extra

Time: no no why- they won't stop, I don't know how to do love!

Time: ok well at least I have legend. That kid would never ask for advice, I'll sit by him.

Legend: so old man.

Time, looking forward to a normal conversation: yeah?

Legend: hypothetically, what would you do if you found out Malon didn't exist.

Legend: And her whole world didn't, but it did, and now it doesn't

Time: ...Excuse me for a minute.

Time, writing a letter as fast as he can: MALON HOW DO I GIVE LOVE ADVICE THEY THINK IM WISE

Malon: lol

Happy Valentine's Day guys, have a headcanon :P

The boys go to Time for love advice and Time spouts whatever wise-sounding bs he can, before shoving them all on Malon for therapy when they visit the ranch

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse! :D

#I'm just??? we have like three different times they went to him with love problems? guys he grew up in a forest raised by a tree #he proposed with a cosplay ring #Malon laughs her head off when he says they're going to him for advice #'babe I had to force you into understanding marriage'#'give me the boys I'll talk to them'#to the boys: 'listen Links don't stop going to him for love advice. ask about the most wierd traumatic shit you've been through'#'cook record his reactions this'll be hilarious'#'he's seemed wise...' 'he don't know shit kids he's quoting me'#Lu time #lu #linked universe #linkeduniverse #little did he know legend was the worst of them all #wars wears the glittery engagement ring he recommended with pride 'sorry I'm taken ladies in case you missed the sparkle'#technically Valentine's Day was 43 minutes ago but shhhh it's ok time doesn't know what love is either #I do not have several of the games or complete information #if I said something incorrect (or offensive ever) let me know :)#love you guys #:)

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therainscene · 5 months ago

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I've described myself in the past as "overly-queerbaited" as a way of explaining why it took me so long to come around to Byler endgame as a legitimate possibility... but that's kind of a misleading way of putting it.

Truth is, I've always been too much of a cynical fuck to fall for queerbait... or any other story that promises positive queer rep.

[Sherlock couldn't touch me; I saw this cringe homophobia coming from a mile away. Fans mistaking straight anxiety jokes for meaningful gay subtext was clearly doomed to end in mockery. Nobody deserved to be treated like that... but god, it was easy to predict.]

I think it's a symptom of having grown up under Section 28 -- feeling like I'm being unreasonable for wanting to see queerness normalized is such an ingrained habit that even today I instinctively recoil like a vampire touching sunlight whenever an optimistic queer story falls unrequested into my lap.

But I'm hardly alone in feeling this way -- many queer Millennial and Gen-X fans of Stranger Things are against the idea of Byler because it would ruin the catharsis of watching the gay boy growing up in the same era as we did slowly succumb to the same despair that we did.

[For those who haven't played the VR game: Vecna is speaking in this screenshot.]

There's genuine comfort to be found in painful stories -- this type of catharsis is practically the cornerstone of horror as a genre -- so I can't really fault myself or anyone else for wanting it, despite the obnoxious oversaturation of disappointing queer endings in media.

This is the nostalgia show, after all -- and like it or not, for many middle-aged queers in the target audience, nostalgia is shot through with the pain of homophobia and loneliness.

But do you know who else is a hurt queer(-coded) adult who resents happy endings? This cynical fuck:

Henry personifies despair and loneliness and the dark urge to take our pain out on others -- and when Will is in the picture, I would argue that he also represents internalized homophobia.

Will might represent who we were -- but Henry represents who we've let ourselves turn into.

And I don't think many of us want to admit to that, because that would involve questioning why we have so much in common with the literal villain of the show; why we're still so consumed with self-pity after 20+ years that we're obsessing over the fate of some kid.

I'm not suggesting that wanting a less-than-fairytale ending for a fictional gay boy is equivalent to being a child killer lol. It's perfectly valid to want to see your pain acknowledged, and stories which appeal to that desire deserve to exist.

But between Henry's connection to Will and the cycle of abuse themes of the show, it's clear that this particular story simply isn't about wallowing in the bleakness of growing up gay in the 80s, but about self-actualizing in spite of it all.

So I just can't bring myself to want a "relatable" ending for Will.

As much as I struggle to enjoy positive queer rep, I don't want to be so cynical. I'd thrown up so many walls to protect myself as a teenager that I forgot how desperately I wanted to see just one of those painful queer stories end on the same uplifting note that straight stories were always entitled to: with true love overcoming the odds, saving the day, and living happily ever after.

[But I'm A Cheerleader, a surprisingly fun movie about conversion therapy, is proof that stories like this did exist when I was a teen... but finding them in the pre- and early-internet days amidst so much censorship was a tall order.]

What makes Stranger Things different from most queer stories -- and what allowed it to pierce through my defenses and stab me in the gut -- is that it perfectly mimics those bleak, acceptable-to-the-censors stories from my youth -- only this time, the secret uplifting gay plot twist is real.

Not for the sake of shock value or of grabbing some empty woke points at the last second, but because the plan all along was to slap the audience in the face for believing homophobic lies about the existence of queer happiness.

That's some gourmet catharsis, if you ask me.

Just the possibility that my inner child might finally be vindicated has allowed me to truly let myself want the things I want for the first time in 20 years -- and that's the first step towards finally crawling back out into the sunlight.

Happy Pride Month, everyone. 🌈

#stranger things #byler #will byers #henry creel #my analysis

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solxamber · 2 months ago

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WOAH CAN I REQUEST LILIA X AN NPC THAT HE GROWS ATTRACTED TO (romantic) AND THOUGHT SOME USE OF MAGIC THEY GET TO HIS WORLD?! AND THEY GET TOGETHER? PLEASE

Lilia Vanrouge x NPC! Reader

thank you for the request, I hope you like it <3

Lilia Vanrouge is an old fae who has seen many things in his long life. He has fought in wars, ruled lands, and babysat a dragon prince. Yet nothing could have prepared him for the strange obsession that takes over him the moment he picks up a copy of the hottest new game in Twisted Wonderland: "Kingdoms & Chaos: Celestial Knight's Quest."

It starts innocently enough. A little late-night entertainment to pass the time while Silver is napping (read: fainted from exhaustion), Malleus is out being mysterious, and Sebek is… well, Sebek-ing somewhere.

But then you appear.

As the Commander of the Celestial Knights—an NPC of all things—you steal Lilia’s heart without even trying. Not only are you charming and competent, but you also manage to dish out some fantastic one-liners as you lead the virtual army across the battlefield with a grace that’s almost unmatched.

"Ah, what a lovely evening," Lilia hums, as the glow of his screen reflects off his ever-youthful face. “So peaceful, so quiet… Oh look, an army of marauding orcs attacking the village!” he says gleefully, mashing buttons with expert skill.

Then you arrive on the screen. Your character, standing tall, sword drawn, voice commanding: “We shall protect this land at all costs!”

Lilia gasps softly. He’s heard you say this line a dozen times, but for some reason, tonight it hits different. You’re so determined… so strong… and that armor—why, it looks splendid on you!

“How intriguing” he muses to himself with a teasing grin. “If only you were real, darling Commander. I’d have such fun seeing how well you could lead in the real world… Imagine, conquering lands by my side…”

Suddenly, an idea forms in Lilia’s mischievous brain.

Never one to back down from a challenge (even if it’s entirely self-imposed and objectively absurd), Lilia decides to play around with some light magical experimentation. After all, what could possibly go wrong with trying to summon a fictional character into reality?

"Just a harmless spell," Lilia assures himself as he draws up a complicated sigil on the floor of his room. He’s chanting in ancient fae tongue, eyes gleaming with excitement.

For a brief moment, nothing happens.

Lilia huffs. “How disappointing… Perhaps I’ve—"

POOF!

Before him stands… you. Armor and all.

You blink in confusion. One moment, you were standing on the battleground, barking orders at your troops in a rather intense cutscene. The next moment, you find yourself standing in what appears to be someone’s bedroom, staring at a very smug-looking man with fangs.

“Where am I? What is this place?!” You exclaim, grabbing for your sword instinctively.

Lilia claps his hands together, delight shining in his eyes. “Welcome to my world, darling! Oh, I knew that spell would work eventually. You’re even more dazzling in person!”

You gape at him. “What… how did I—what kind of magic is this?!”

“Oh, just a little something I whipped up,” he says nonchalantly. “It’s all very simple, really. Though, now that you’re here, I suppose I should give you a tour of the place! Maybe a drink? A lovely stroll under the moonlight?”

You eye him suspiciously. “You… summoned me? But I’m just a—”

“NPC?” Lilia interrupts with a smirk. “Not anymore! You’re free to do as you wish here. Consider yourself the main character now, hm?”

You lower your sword slightly, starting to process what just happened. This man is utterly insane…

And yet, there’s something oddly intriguing about his carefree attitude. And he’s undeniably… attractive?

Adjusting to life outside of a game isn’t easy. For one thing, you have to deal with all these strange, non-player characters called “people,” who seem to have minds of their own. You no longer have the comfort of pre-determined dialogue options either, which is quite jarring.

The most bizarre thing, though, is that Lilia keeps flirting with you.

At first, you try to ignore it, chalking it up to the fact that he’s just messing with you. But it’s hard to ignore when he leans in close to you with a teasing smile every time you so much as yawn.

“Tired, Commander?” Lilia whispers in your ear one evening, his breath tickling your skin. “You should rest… After all, we wouldn’t want you collapsing in battle.”

Your cheeks flush red as you stammer out a response. “I-I’m not tired! And there’s no battle! This isn’t the game!”

He chuckles, clearly enjoying how flustered you’ve become. “But of course! How silly of me. Though, you should know… you’ve already won this battle.”

“What battle?!”

“The battle for my heart,” Lilia says smoothly, winking at you.

Your face burns hotter, and you try to hide behind a pillow. “What kind of nonsense are you even talking about?!”

Lilia just grins and pats your head fondly. “You’ll understand soon enough, my dear Commander.”

Days turn into weeks, and while you initially found Lilia’s antics annoying, you start to realize that he genuinely cares for you. He’s always looking out for you, guiding you through this strange new world with a patience you never expected from someone so chaotic.

One night, while you’re sitting outside under the stars, you find yourself staring at him longer than usual. He’s so carefree and confident, yet there’s a softness to him when he talks to you.

And that’s when it hits you.

*Oh no… I’m falling for him.*

Lilia notices your staring and smirks. “What’s this? Are you finally seeing my charm, darling Commander?”

You groan and cover your face. “Why must you always be so insufferably smug?”

“I can’t help it if I’m irresistible,” Lilia teases, leaning in closer. “Tell me, do I make your heart race?”

You try to deny it, but you know it’s true. Your heart is racing, and it’s all because of him.

Finally, after a long pause, you sigh in defeat. “Alright, fine… maybe you do make my heart race a little.”

Lilia’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before a genuine smile crosses his lips. “Is that so? Well then, I suppose I should reward you for your honesty.”

Before you can respond, Lilia leans in and presses his lips to yours in a soft, sweet kiss. It’s nothing grand or dramatic—just simple and sincere.

When he pulls away, you’re left breathless, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Well,” you mumble, still dazed. “I suppose this means I’ve won.”

Lilia chuckles softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Perhaps… But you’re not the only one who’s victorious tonight, darling.”

Masterlist

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst #lilia x reader #lilia #lilia vanrouge #lilia vanrouge x reader

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convenientalias · 6 months ago

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Why Nirvana in Fire Wins at Revenge Story with Identity Porn

Nirvana in Fire was my first ever cdrama that was a revenge story with identity porn. Since then, I've seen many other dramas along similar lines. A League of Nobleman. Blood of Youth. City of Streamer. Fighting for Love. Legend of Anle. Long Ballad. Princess Weiyoung. Rise of Phoenixes. Sword Dynasty. Weaving a Tale of Love. Word of Honor. Some of them are quite good but none of them really hit the same way. So, apart from the fact that it was the first one I ever watched, I thought I'd made a brief list of reasons why I think Nirvana in Fire is the best.

Lin Shu's Identity

I just appreciate that when shit went down and Lin Shu's whole family and army and many of his friends were killed and he became a man on the run, he was a full-grown man (okay, still pretty young, but definitely not a child) with his own life and even an army position.

A lot of these identity porn dramas will have their MCs meeting ppl for the first time in many years, in disguise, but they only knew these ppl when they were children. Childhood friends are great and all that, but can they hit as hard as the complicated, fleshed out relationships that Lin Shu had and lost? He had a friendship of many years with Jingyan. He had an engagement and a longstanding friendship with Nihuang. He has friends from the army, younger cousins playing the role of "we don't even understand what happened back then and maybe that's better", older friends and relations who he actually knew as an adult.

Simultaneously, his past identity increases the threat of discovery for Lin Shu. He's a known factor to many, many people in the capital. Yes, they think he's dead. But small things like a hazelnut allergy or his mannerisms or his previous friendships with people are still memorable enough that even with a completely different face, if he's not careful, he might give himself away. He's not infiltrating a group of strangers or people who only knew him as a kid. He's infiltrating a group of people who were close to him for many, many years of his life.

HOWEVER. Lin Shu's identity is not so important that everyone in the capital is still obsessed with him twelve years later (with some exceptions). This isn't Mysterious Lotus Casebook where we're all still pining for Li Xiangyi, because...

2. The Chiyan Case Wasn't Even About Lin Shu?? (Also, No One Cares About That Ancient History Anymore (Jingyan, Sit Down))

The Chiyan case wasn't about the Lin family at all, really.

No one specifically wanted Lin Shu dead or had a big grudge against his dad or anything. It's all about power, military and political. For some conspirators, it was just about getting a leg up in court. But mostly, it was about Prince Qi, the previous crown prince. The Lin family just happened to be friends with him and ended up in an uncomfortable (highly murderable and frameable) position.

Lin Shu may mourn his family, but for the majority of the show, he doesn't talk about it. He doesn't talk about his mother and his family back at the capital either committing suicide or being killed indiscriminately. He only mentions his father's name a handful of times in the whole show. Lin Shu's drive is that his father's ARMY was killed, tens of thousands of men. That's the weight on Lin Shu's shoulders: the death of all these innocent men because they were in the way. The Chiyan Case; the Chiyan Massacre. The denouement of Lin Shu's victory (not to give too many spoilers) is not just his father's name being cleared of a treason charge. It's when there's finally a memorial put up for the Chiyan Army, with memorial tablets that he can publicly visit to pay respects.

Why does this make it a better revenge story with identity porn? A couple reasons. First, Lin Shu is very much the center of the story and has very personal beef, but he treats himself like a tool and his objective isn't about himself or familial connections (they're part of it but they're not everything). He doesn't even know all the people he's avenging. That's fine; he'll still carry that weight. I just think it's neat.

Second, the fact that the Lin family (and the whole Chiyan Army) were really just collateral damage for getting rid of Prince Qi really emphasizes just how careless the current regime is of the value of human life.

Third, as Meng Zhi says when Lin Shu comes to the capital, everyone at court is busy with their own little power struggles and no one has time to care about Lin Shu or protect him. Lin Shu's like yeah that's fine :) I'm not anyone's focus anymore and the Lin family has been swept under the rug like we never existed :) and no one even talks about the Chiyan case anymore for fear of being accuse of treason :) that's all okay because I'm about TO MAKE THIS EVERYONE'S PROBLEM ANYWAY and honestly the fact that everyone's trying their hardest to forget will just make them more oblivious when I come to fuck them up.

3. All Of This is Whose Fault, Again?

That's right, folks, we're in a show that knows that when shit goes down at court and your family gets framed for treason and the emperor orders them executed, sure, you can blame the conspirators who framed them all you want, but also, YOU KIND OF DO HAVE TO BLAME THE EMPEROR.

People have said enough about how great this is on a thematic level of accountability but seriously I've seen so many shows dodge this. ~It's not the emperor's fault bc he was misled by these conspirators~ or ~the emperor is only a puppet emperor, if he actually had power instead of this evil person, he would put everything right.~ Or, if they dare to blame the emperor, maybe he's just an evil emperor and was bad all along. NIF says yeah, he was lied to on many levels. There was a whole complicated conspiracy going on and many people to blame. But he could have taken things slower. He could have required better evidence. He could have trusted people who had supported him for many years, at least enough to listen to their side of the story BEFORE KILLING THEM. And why didn't he? It's not because he's an idiot. It's because he's an emperor, and emperors don't like seeing other people gain enough power to even potentially become a threat. It's because he wasn't looking for the truth, he was looking for an excuse to kill. And he's not unusually evil for that; this kind of callousness towards murder and grasping for power at all costs is more the norm at court than any kind of honor or morality.

The Emperor's a nice guy sometimes! He used to fly kites with Lin Shu when he was young! His sons give him a headache, but honestly, relatable, they'd give you a headache too! He likes Consort Jing and honestly, who wouldn't! And he killed one of his sons, one of his closest friends, and an entire army, and he would do it again without hesitation. He's not especially evil. Being an emperor is bad enough.

4. Other Bad Guys

It's worth mentioning that Lin Shu's opponents are not stupid.

Xie Yu and Xia Jiang, Prince Yu and the Crown Prince, even the Empress and Noble Consort Yue: They aren't all geniuses, but they aren't idiots flailing around in spite. They're pretty smart, and if Lin Shu wants to take them down, he has to be smarter.

It's also worth mentioning that this is not one of those shows where the protagonist happens to take down his opponents mostly by standing still and just defending himself when they lash out at him. This seems like an obvious thing in a revenge drama, but the number of times I've seen the opposite, the protagonist swearing revenge and then just struggling with self preservation.... but no. Lin Shu has A Plan. He is going to be proactive and actually take his enemies down. Admittedly he will do this by revealing their past misdeeds but this isn't a case of "the misdeeds will just happen to pop up". This is a case of "I will actively unearth skeletons from where you threw them in a well in an abandoned manor".

TO SUM UP

Without going into the things that make Nirvana in Fire a great show in general (great acting, good pacing and plotting, good costuming, and so on and so forth) I think the main things that make it hit for me as a revenge story with identity porn are 1) letting the MC's past identity be that of a grown man who actually had a life (more connections to the past, but also more to lose and more danger in the present as a result), 2) the fact that the offense that the MC is avenging wasn't even like a personal thing to the offenders (bc! it's fucking infuriating!), 3) the fact that the drama is willing to face the root of the problem (the problem is both corruption at court and the fact that the highest arbiter is flawed, not just individual conspirators), 4) the supply of multiple good antagonists, and 5) LETTING THE MC ACTUALLY, ACTIVELY PURSUE REVENGE AND THAT'S THE MAIN PLOT AND WE AREN'T SPENDING MOST OF OUR SCREENTIME ON SIDEPLOTS AND ROMANCE OR MERE SELF PRESERVATION. These may not seem like large things but my friends, you would be surprised how many revenge dramas I've watched at this point that can't do them.

ok I'm done ranting. Feel like most of this is actually stating the obvious but I'm just in a mood and had to get it out. (...also possibly I've been let down by some revenge dramas lately but I won't get into it. it's okay. we can't all be Nirvana in Fire; only Nirvana in Fire can be Nirvana in Fire.)

#nirvana in fire #just some ramblings really

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rapturously · 11 months ago

Note

Ok hear me out bc this has been in my mind for a minute. Lester secretly toying and touching reader in the truck while someone is standing outside the truck, be it Bo, some potential victim I just feel like he is the type

heatstroke.

( lester sinclair x fem!reader. )

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: lester sinclair x fem!reader.

𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐌𝐀𝐓: one-shot — requested.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 4.3K.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: SMUT! (mdni), public sex, risky location, vaginal fingering, fingering (f!feceiving), fingerfucking, spit as lube, dirty talk, praise, finger sucking, very mild coercion, lester is a bit of a pervert, bo sinclair cameo, obsessive/slightly creepy behavior from lester

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: listen ,,, you were onto something incredible when you requested this, this was so hot to write you don’t understand !!! lester is criminally underrated aaaaand this was so much hornier than I thought it’d be !! hope y’all enjoy! ❤️

TAGLIST: @freyjasfenrir ; @darklylucid ; @chaotichellscape ; @kiki-dohedo ; @vincent-sinclair-deserved-better ; @iamcautiouslyoptimistic ; @milland ; @the-anxious-youth ; @nastymensimp

Summertime in Louisiana was akin to setting fire in a desert — humidity on top of an acrid, stifling heat. You didn’t have a clue as to why your friends dragged you all the way out here under the false pretense of a camping trip. In all actuality, they wanted to visit this town that wasn’t listed on any map — Ambrose.

The journey itself was treacherous, going through thick, endless woodlands, marshlands, and bogs before coming towards the town. It was just around the bend, a large chunk of the road missing, now consumed by swampwater, jagged rocks, and erosion. Your friend was confident that he could maneuver his truck through it — boy, was he wrong.

“It won’t make it,” Josie chimed, standing beside you as the both of you watched a pair of young men attempt to push the truck through the wash. The truck unceremoniously came to a grinding, screeching halt, tires partially buried within the mud. “Idiots.”

You kept quiet, idly smoothing your palms across the little, floral sundress you wore. You certainly weren’t dressed for camping — you had no interest. Going to Ambrose was supposed to be a ‘day out on the town’, with your desire being to look at small shops and simply enjoy the atmosphere.

“Maybe we should call somebody,” You piped up, nervously wringing your hands together. “There has to be a tow truck around, you think?” Anxiousness blossomed within the pit of your stomach, giving you a feeling of uncertainty. You wished that they would’ve just listened and tried to drive around it.

“Cut the shit, we don’t need a tow truck.” Josie’s boyfriend, Tate, growled in protest. Admittedly, you had no idea why you were out here in the staggering heat with these three. Tate and Josie had been your friends since high school, but Cody, the third boy, was simply here out of devotion to Josie. You were confident that there was something else going on.

Josie shot you an apologetic glance, but you had enough of watching them push at a truck that wasn’t moving anywhere whatsoever. With a begrudging sigh, you started down the dirt path in the direction of Ambrose, carefully stepping across rocks to avoid caking your boots in a layer of viscous mud.

“Where are you going?” Josie called out, and you simply waved your hand at her, dismissive of her concerns. You were sick and tired of being around the trio, anyway. A walk and a bit of fresh air would do you a world of good.

“Going to town to find somebody.” You replied, and continued walking, crossbody purse slung over your frame as you made the short trek into town. It seemed exceptionally lively — plenty of stores, the chattering ambiance of a quaint neighborhood, and vintage, neon signs that pointed you toward your destination.

You were delighted to discover the gas station and mechanic shop, which already seemed to be inhabited by someone. An old, beat-up pickup truck sat by the gas pumps, back of the bed shoddily cleaned-out, save for a few remnants of roadkill and animal bones. There was an ‘L. S.’ carved into the worn metal above the back wheel, which you curiously traced your fingers over.

The hot sun blistered down upon you, making it stifling due to the now-faded asphalt you stood upon. You quickly ducked underneath the shaded cover of the gas station, almost colliding into someone when you rounded the front of the truck.

“Oh!” You gasped, chest tight with a momentary lapse of fear. “I’m so sorry!” The energy you carried was akin to that of a nervous nelly, clearly unnerved by her surroundings. You felt horrible for running into some innocent bystander — the owner of the truck, you figured.

You were met with the skeptical, hazel-eyed gaze of a man who reminded you of a possum. Rugged, scraggly, and clearly meant for the woodlands. He straightened his hat out, head cocking to one side when he peered down at you — prettiest thing he’d seen in ages. “Nothin’ to be sorry for, sugar! Guess I wasn’t watchin’ where I was goin’, neither.”

His voice bore that native Southern dialect, but he didn’t sound hostile whatsoever. When you finally got a good look at him, he seemed scrappy — maybe he lived in Ambrose. A large buck knife was holstered to his hip, neck adorned in a series of chokers and necklaces, decorated in some sort of animal bone.

“Say, what’cha doin’ ‘round here, anyway?” He inquired, leaning against the door of his truck. “Y’look a little lost.” His tone remained friendly, high-spirited, even. He was somewhat grimy, covered in a layer of dewy perspiration, wiping his hands off on a damp cloth.

“My friends and I were coming up here to visit the town, but our truck got stuck in that patch of marsh just around the bend,” You sighed, somewhat agitated with the whole scenario. If they would’ve listened to you, the truck would be just fine and not tire-deep in the mud. “I was just looking for some help.”

There was a sparkling in his eyes, a peculiar glittering that intrigued you to no end. A chuckle escaped him, finding humor in the situation. “They should’a jus’ drove ‘round.” He mused, and you had to laugh, even if it was a bitter sound. You kept your hands tucked together, idly fiddling with the strap of your purse.

Your expression was somewhat amused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. “That’s what I said,” You sighed, happy to be away from the oppressive glare of the midday sun. “Either way, we’re stuck. Do you know if there’s a tow truck around here, or someone who could help?” You asked.

He grinned — a toothy, wolfish grin. Lester wasn’t blessed with Bo’s natural handsomeness, but he certainly had the personality to offset it all. He liked that you smiled and laughed along with him, didn’t treat him like backwoods trash, either. “M’brother’s got a tow truck! Bet he’d help ya out! Why don’t I give ‘im a call?”

Finally — your savior.

Relief rippled through you as you nodded several times over, rifling through your purse to unveil a crumpled twenty-dollar bill. “Here,” You insisted. “For the call and for your help. I can’t thank you enough.” You nodded, but the man simply pushed your hand away.

Being around you was a reward in itself — and once his brothers took care of your friends, you would be his prize in all of this. He couldn’t have been any happier with how all of this was progressing. Lester opened up the driver’s side door, grabbing a rather shoddy-looking flip-phone. He was still trying to figure these things out.

One call to Bo later, and his older brother was coming out with the tow-truck and all of that oozing charm, like a shepherd leading the flock to the slaughter. Lester insisted that he keep you out of it — you were sweet, he could tell.

He liked that.

“He’s on his way,” Lester chimed, swiveling around to face you again. He stuck out his hand in greeting. “M’Lester, by th’way! It’s real nice to meet you, sugar. Say, if you’re bakin’ in the sun, could sit in m’truck with me while the rest do the heavy liftin’.” The offer was absolutely tempting to you.

You reached out, introducing yourself with a charming grin and another burst of bubbly laughter. “It’s nice to meet you, Lester. Thank you so much for all of your help, again. You’re an angel.” He was very kind and upbeat — Jesus, you even found him to be cute. “Are you sure? I really don’t want to be a bother.”

Lester grinned again, completely and utterly enamored with you as he waved a hand towards the truck. “I’m real sure, promise! Don’t want that pretty little face of yours t’melt right off. You can sit with me while Bo works his magic.” He insisted, opening up the door as a sign of invitation.

A pleasant wave of heat flooded throughout your body — and while you thought it was from the weather, it was from Lester’s subtle flirtation. You couldn’t help but giggle, nose wrinkling in amusement as you climbed up into his truck. Lester stood behind you, shamelessly admiring the way your dress fit you, from lovely curves to the faintest glimpse of your thighs.

As you crawled into the cabin, you noticed the morbid array of bone and rope dangling from the top mirror. The inside smelled of stale blood, damp dirt, and the faint scent of cigarettes. You folded one leg over the other, swiping away a thin layer of sweat that built up along the back of your neck.

A tow truck came soaring down the road, rickety and beat-up. The driver wore a mechanic’s uniform and a ball cap — you assumed it was Bo, the man Lester was referring to. “M’gonna drive us back down to the bend. No reason for you t’walk.” He mused, hopping in beside you as he started the engine.

The truck roared to life, and Lester maneuvered the vehicle out of the gas station, whipping it back around to approach the swampy wash where your caravan had gotten stuck at.

“Have you lived here your whole life?” You asked, head canting to one side. You leaned up against the door, palm tucked underneath your chin. Whenever you weren’t looking, you were completely oblivious to Lester’s constant ogling of your body.

He kept one hand perched atop the patchwork, leather-covered steering wheel, the other resting along the edge of the window. “Mostly,” Lester piped up, letting out a low whistle. “Ambrose ain’t on the map. Hard for anybody to come out this way without lookin’ real close.” He replied, truck slugging along at a crawl.

“It’s pretty out here,” You hummed, tracing a finger along the dashboard, collecting a layer of dust in the process. “I wouldn’t want to leave. You’ve got everything you need here in town. It’s peaceful.” When you adjusted your position, your dress hitched just a little higher.

“Yer welcome t’stay, if y’like it so much.” Lester mused, which got you to laugh. As tempting as it sounded, nestled away within the Louisiana wilderness, you knew that your friends would go against it. “They even got a beauty pageant, Miss Ambrose.”

Intrigued, you cocked your head to one side, letting out another giggle as you peered outside towards the forests. “A beauty pageant? I’ve never done one of those before. I’m sure I’d have plenty of competition.” You sighed, idly fiddling with the hem of your sundress. The jean jacket you were wearing over it only made you nearly collapse from heatstroke.

Lester grinned, a playful chuckle escaping him. “Naw, I think you’d win th’whole thing.” He was really laying on the compliments and old-fashioned charm, driving the truck down the path and around the bend. “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen ‘round here!” Singing your praises was one way to get you flustered.

This was the last thing you ever expected, being hit on by a rugged stranger you’d just met. Nevertheless, the attention you were receiving was amazing, something you weren’t used to. “You’re really sweet.” You accepted the compliment without retort, idly preening your fingers over the top of your head.

By the time you’d gotten back to the wash, Lester’s brother was sitting in the cab of the tow-truck, attempting to haul the other vehicle out of the mud. You waved at your friend from the window as he put it into park, letting it idle. Josie and Tate happened to use it as something to lean on, but Lester didn’t say anything to protest.

“Ain’t you jus’ gorgeous?” Lester crooned, pinching the hem of your dress between his thumb and forefinger. Your skin felt abnormally hot, like a fever as you shifted in your seat, visibly sheepish to the man’s seemingly harmless flirting. “Real nice dress, too.”

“Thanks,” You mumbled, ducking your head as his knuckles innocently brushed over the top of your thigh. Goosebumps erupted in his wake, causing you to shiver as you averted your gaze. “Maybe I should get out and see if everything’s okay.” Your voice was barely above a whisper.

Lester cocked his head to one side, eyes glittering with something indiscernible. The rough, calloused pads of his fingertips traced over your thigh. “Y’sure, sugar? I was thinkin’ you could stay here with me,” He mused, lips spitting into a toothy smirk. “Could make it worth yer while.” His voice was sickly-sweet, like honey.

Something hung heavy in the air — suffocating heat coupled with the flurry of tension crackling within the cab of Lester’s truck. Admittedly, you were more aroused than you should’ve been, given how forward and crass this was, but there was certainly a thrill in it.

You swallowed the growing lump within your throat, stealing another glance outside the window. Your friends were just outside of the truck — if you made too much noise or squirmed, they would notice. “What if somebody sees?” You whimpered, feeling a rush of oozing warmth coalesce between your thighs.

“Looks you’ll have t’be real quiet,” Lester hummed, hand prodding at your dress again. “Why don’t you go on an’ lift that up for me, gorgeous?” You shouldn’t have been this riled up and turned on for a complete stranger, but he was tempting — maybe it was his kind demeanor coupled with lust. You weren’t sure.

A fluttering sensation erupted throughout the pit of your stomach, prompting you to shift your thighs together as you began to shyly tug your dress up. Lester had subtly shifted closer, shorter than an arm’s length distance as you let some of the fabric pool around your hips.

There was some sick thrill you got with this, buried deep down — in hindsight, you shouldn’t have been entertaining this, but Lester seemed more than willing. You glanced toward the window, breath hitching when Josie glanced back at you with a puzzled expression.

To quell her concern, you swiftly gave her a thumbs-up, perspiration creeping along your spine as you subtly shifted a little closer to your new friend. His soft snickering filled the cab, calloused palm gingerly kneading into your thigh.

“Nice n’soft,” Lester mumbled, Southern drawl dropping to a hushed octave. “Y’feel like velvet.” His compliment made you shiver with anticipation, legs parting as you shyly began to ruck the skirt of your dress up. He leaned in, giving your hair a sniff — you smelled sweet, like a fresh bouquet of honeyed flowers.

You swallowed the lump within your throat, angling yourself a little more in his direction, enough to remain inconspicuous. Lester traced his hand along your thigh, drinking in the feeling of your velveteen complexion underneath his fingertips.

Without missing a beat, you sluggishly placed your hand atop his, guiding it toward the heat coalescing between your legs. Lester appeared surprised, cracking another bemused grin as you let his fingers settle along the waistband of your panties. You were desperate, wriggling atop the sticky leather beneath you.

Your fingers curled into the seat, chest tight with a familiar fluttering once his fingers finally crossed the threshold, slipping beneath the thin, cotton material. He nudged your legs further apart, deliberately stroking at your cunt, toying with you just a little bit. “D’aw,” He crooned. “That all fer me?”

Part of you wanted to simply melt into a pile of nothingness, lips parted as a sweet moan escaped you. His touches were tantalizing, feather-light and leaving you aching for more. “Y—Yeah,” You sighed, keeping your voice low as Lester pushed past your folds, two digits beginning to glide against your cunt. “Keep going.” You mewled.

Lester rarely, if ever, did anything like this.

Admittedly, once he saw you, that beautiful beam of sunshine, he had to have you — he wanted to keep you for himself, too. Your willingness to let him touch you made you all the more tempting, something to be coveted, worshiped. Lester would do it all for you if you’d let him.

Quietly, he obeyed your breathy command, ministrations becoming more vigorous. His fingers were erratic and choppy, sloppily sliding across your cunt with a fervor. You didn’t care, lulled into submission by the myriad of sensations, pleasure rippling throughout your stomach.

Your gaze occasionally flickered toward the outside of the truck, but your worry of getting caught was steadily subsiding. Lester’s calloused digits glided along your slit, moving up until they found that clutch of sensitive nerves buried between your thighs. His thumb sluggishly circled your clit, causing your hips to jolt forward.

“S’at feel nice?” His drawl had dropped into a husked purr, voice wrought with desperation. Lester liked having this level of control over you, but he enjoyed seeing your reactions even more. Embarrassment washed through you, knowing how insane this scenario seemed.

A sweet whimper tore past your lips, and you nodded your head, attempting to keep the gesture subtle. You wanted more, shifting your thighs together to relieve some tension until Lester prodded you with his knee. He began to rub at your clit, prompting you to press the back of your hand over your mouth.

Lester snickered, swatting your hand away. “Don’t keep those sounds from me, sugar. You’re jus’ so pretty like this.” He murmured, causing you to bite at your lower lip. Your thighs shook, cunt throbbing and oozing with liquid heat as he continued to touch you.

There was a thump against the front of the truck, nearly making you leap out of your own flesh, hastily covering your lap with your jean jacket. It was just Cody, huffing and puffing as Lester’s brother continued to try and pull the truck out of the mud.

“W—We should probably stop,” You whimpered, voice low and hushed, attempting to grab at his wrist, but Lester stopped you. “Lester, please.” The terror of being caught outweighed pleasure, but he shushed you, tugging you just a little closer, until you were nearly leg-to-leg in the cab.

“Jus’ keep quiet, sweetheart. They ain’t gonna catch us, swear.” He reassured you, coercing you into a more docile state — admittedly, he really wanted to make you cum on his fingers. Lester was hellbent to receive that from you, whether you protested or not.

As much as your mind screamed at you to stop, you wanted to keep going. You nodded, still keeping the jacket tucked within your lap, but Lester nudged it aside, wanting to watch everything. Your dress was all disheveled and ruffled around your hips, panties halfway down your thighs.

You began to squirm, hips jolting and spasming into the sensation of his hand, nails digging into the old, cracked leather of the truck’s frayed cushions. Your mind stopped worrying so much, submitting to basic desire and instinct, letting pleasure hold the reins as he flicked his thumb around your clit.

Honey-sweet arousal pooled between your legs, coating Lester’s digits in a fine sheen. You almost pleaded for him to come back when he withdrew his hand, watching with complete and utter shock as he licked his fingers, saturated in saliva. The noises he made were crass and somewhat lewd. “Taste jus’as good as y’look.” He murmured.

A molten wave of heat dropped right into the pit of your stomach, prompting you to whimper as his fingers hotly returned to your core. He was vigorous this time, using those spittle-slathered digits to invade your cunt, pushing two fingers inside of you as he began to piston them in and out. His rhythm was intense, and you nearly clamped your thighs together.

Your limbs felt heavy, weighed-down by the waves of ecstasy that consume you, as if dragging you down to the bottom of an ocean. You can barely distinguish what’s happening outside of the truck — you don’t care anymore, either.

This stranger fingerfucking you in his cab is all you can concentrate on.

Another soft, throaty moan escaped you, tearing past your parted lips as you rolled your hips sporadically, in-tandem with the motion of his fingers. They pushed inward, nearly knuckle-deep inside of your cunt before dragging out halfway, only to ram right back in. You sighed, pleasure scrawled all over your face.

Lester kept a watchful eye out, knowing that Bo would take his sweet time, damage your friend’s truck in the process. He was happy to have snatched you up when he did, gaze flickering toward you. Your body was contorted with delight, a glistening sheen of perspiration shimmering along your collarbone.

Tension crackled through the air, and you were none the wiser to Lester’s little plot to keep you. His thumb toyed and circled your clit, pouring fuel on the fire as your hips bucked forward again. “M’close,” You whimpered through the dizzying carnality, knuckles tense and tight as you clawed at the seat. “Oh, Lester! S—Shit, please don’t stop!” You squeaked.

He was enthralled, as if trained to obey your every wish. He didn’t slow down, keeping the same pace, fingers scissoring in and out of your weeping cunt. The thick scent of arousal hung heavy in the cab, intermingled with that of fresh earth and a coppery twang from the blood of roadkill, baking away in the back of the truck.

The thin straps of your pretty dress began to sag upon your shoulders, giving way to the faintest glimpse of your breast. If it weren’t for the oblivious audience outside of the truck, Lester would’ve been sucking on your chest. Instead, he settled for a brief peek of your heaving tits, and nothing more.

When the truck rattled, you barely paid it any mind — just your friends sagging against it. Lester snickered, opting to add a third finger, if it were a possibility. “Can y’handle another, sugar? Yer almost there.” He whispered, and when your friend began to step back towards the passenger door for shade, your eyes went as wide as saucers.

Again, Lester silenced your worry with the softest coos and gentle shushes, thumb working away at your clit as he attempted to wriggle a third digit inside of you. You were all wound up, chasing after your orgasm as you turned your face away, skin feverishly hot, as if you’d been scorched by the Louisiana sunshine.

As soon as Lester’s fingers rocked into your cunt for the umpteenth time, curling just slightly, you were gone — wasting away in a white-hot explosion. The tension within your stomach unfurled as you coated his digits in your slick nectar, huffing and puffing as you attempted to compose yourself.

“Lester, Lester,” The breathy, hushed way in which you whimpered his name made him want to devour you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around his fingers as he withdrew them, watching the tension unfurl from your body. You looked embarrassed and downright flustered, having made a mess of his seat. “M’sorry.”

“Sorry?” Lester cajoled, grinning a toothy, bemused smile as he began to lick his fingers clean. “Don’t gotta apologize none for that. Jus’ do it again sometime.” He teased, watching as you hastily covered your lap with your jean jacket when your friend thumped a hand against the window.

“Hey, we’re going up to this guy’s house. He said he has a tire that we can borrow, one on the truck is flat. Are you coming?” Josie asked, ogling Lester with skepticism and a high degree of disgust, too.

You gasped, heart pounding erratically in your chest. As you opened your mouth to answer, Lester interjected on your behalf.

“Yer friend here is goin’ through a bad wave of heatstroke. I’m gonna drive ‘er back t’my place an’ get her some water. It’s a cabin ‘long the path, you can’t miss it.” Lester confirmed, but Josie looked at you for an answer instead.

You nodded several times over, mustering up a smile after having experienced one of the best highs of your life. Pretending that you hadn’t let him touch you just moments ago made you feel strange. “I’ll be alright, Josie. You guys can meet me at his place once the truck is all fixed up.”

Josie nodded and reluctantly moved away from the window, joining Tate and Cody as the three of them followed Bo towards the tow truck. You were impervious and oblivious to the fact that this would be the last time you would ever see your friends alive.

Fortunately for Lester, he had other intentions.

He started the truck again, peering toward you with a twinkle in his eye — it wasn’t the same high-spirited, innocuous man you’d encountered at the gas station. This gleam was different — obsessive, possessive, and absolutely enamored with you.

“Why don’t we see what we can do about this heatstroke of yours, sugar?”

#slasher x reader #slasher x you #lester sinclair x reader #lester sinclair x you #lester sinclair #house of wax #house of wax smut #house of wax fanfic #slasher fanfiction #slasher fanfic #slasher fandom #slasher x y/n #sunkendreams masterlist

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yanderes-galore · 1 month ago

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57.) "You're stuck with me, like it or not." For Yandere Zoro who has a hobby taking his childhood friend on his adventures weather their like it or not 🩴 ( I was thinking platonic but romantic works as well ) please

Sure! Just to let people know, this prompt was from my own list so it's not linked. I also made the pairing vague as Zoro's actions can go either way in this. I'll admit, the plot differed from the request but I wasn't sure where to go with it? Hope you like it either way :(

Yandere! Roronoa Zoro Prompt 57

"You're stuck with me, like it or not."

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Overprotective behavior, Controlling behavior, Isolation, Violence, Swearing, Threats, Forced companionship/relationship.

Zoro has never let you out of his sight since you were young. Even when he left your village to be the world's greatest swordsman, he vowed to take you with him. Being friends and a fellow orphan like him... you agreed at first as you also wanted to see the world.

Back then you craved adventure, something different than home.

You haven't returned to your village for years. In fact, Zoro got lost. Which meant you had to stay beside your childhood friend.

Zoro has often dragged you on adventures since your youth. Be it exploring your own island or the seas beyond it... Zoro insisted you be there.

He always wanted you to support him through his goals.

Even when separated from Zoro, the swordsman always somehow found you again. You two could be considered inseparable. Hell, even when he joined Luffy's crew, you were dragged to come along.

Why?

Well it's not like he can abandon you now.

You're Zoro's closest companion. Part of you wonders if he took you with him due to the death of Kuina. You wondered if he was doing this because he didn't want you alone... or if he feared being alone.

Your life was never all that stable with Zoro. The swordsman insisted on never leaving you alone. Whenever he left to explore a new island, you came with.

You knew it was Zoro's hobby to take you on adventures. Originally it was fun. You cared for Zoro, you followed him everywhere...!

Yet even you were getting tired of all the dangers pirate life and life beside Zoro subjected you to.

It was to be expected that you and Zoro parted ways eventually. In reality, you should've parted years ago in your village. Pirate life was fun and full of adventure...

But you only ever did it for Zoro.

"I think I've had my fill of... this, Zoro."

His reaction was expected. The normally stoic Zoro's face shifted into surprise when you confessed your worries. He appeared speechless while you two sat on the boat in private, an uneasy look in your gaze as you glanced out at the sea.

"I mean... I adored our adventures when we were younger. Being a pirate with you didn't sound like something we'd do... but I did it because you wanted to. Unfortunately... I don't think I can accompany you much longer."

"What's that supposed to mean...?" Zoro finally managed to say, staring at his childhood friend in bewilderment.

You take a deep breath, looking back at him.

"I want to start a new life. I want to find an island to start anew. I'm not a fighter, Zoro. I help you all out, yes, but I'd be better off living a life somewhere else."

"You know you can't do that..." Zoro sighs, refusing to leave your side and scolding you like a disobedient child. "You've... never been away from me."

"I can't stay with you forever..." You push, but Zoro shuts you down.

"Where do you plan on going? You have a bounty like the rest of us. You said it yourself, you can't fight... You'll die." Zoro responds coldly, eyes narrowing at your idea.

"Zoro, I'll hold you back—"

"You never have before! If you leave, you'll die. The government, pirates, something will get you. You need me, dumbass." Zoro scoffs, making you glare.

"Zoro, just support me on this..." You plead.

"And let you die? Never. I can protect you and this crew just fine. You and I stay together. Our adventures? Together." Zoro scolds again, making you more irritated.

"... I don't care what you say. Someday, we'll part ways." You grumble defiantly, only for Zoro to harshly grab you and pull you closer.

"You know how much blood I've spilt to protect you?" Zoro growls lowly. "Enough to show I'm completely devoted to you... yet you want to leave me?"

You squirm in the grasp of your childhood friend, mumbling uneasy apologies. His grasp only seems to tighten. His gaze is dark, staring you down in an intimidating gesture.

"You think I'm even going to let you off this boat after this?" Zoro hisses. "You aren't leaving this boat until you snap out of this doubt of yours. Even if it means I have to lock you in your quarters due to being a danger to yourself!"

You freeze when Zoro barks at you, the swordsman huffing at your silent state.

"You're stuck with me, like it or not." Zoro sternly states as though it's a fact. "Even if I leave the crew, you're coming with me. My adventures are yours too... always have been."

Zoro soon lets you go, causing you to stumble back with some fear in your eyes. Zoro's never... been like this before. He really is desperate to keep you....

"Nothing's going to change how I feel." Zoro grumbles, turning around, "Snap out of it... I'm never abandoning you..."

Zoro then turns to look over his shoulder, you're trembling. His gaze only softens momentarily, as he's clearly still pissed that you would attempt to leave him.

"I'm expecting you to never abandon me either... Even if I have to remind you."

With that, Zoro walks off to no doubt nap or train...

Leaving you to fear your childhood friend and what he's capable of.

#yandere one piece #yandere one piece x reader #yandere zoro #yandere roronoa zoro

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