#you cannot control other people's reactions

[library-fae]

"are you not afraid of someone judging you"

i would prefer to exist as myself then to hide in a box that doesn't fit me

the assurance "nobody is judging you" is straight up false... people ARE judging you and you have to find a way to be ok w it

[puppppppppy]

i feel like im not making any sense but does anyone else feel like there are stories that let u run with them and ones that spell everything out for you

[zeb-z]

Bad has so many reasons to be cautious, even paranoid, as anyone else on the island. From Federation nonsense to Dapper being kidnapped to the whole purgatory nonsense to whatever fuckass suit of armor “old friend” was setting up cameras in his house. But it compounds on his regular overly aware paranoid self to this state of hyper-paranoia. And as a demon who can and usually will lie, cheat, steal, and use sneaky underhanded tactics, he expects the craziest extent because he thinks of it, realizes it’s possible, and would use it himself. We saw this very obviously in purgatory - when he thought greens desperate last ditch effort to balance the scale was a super planned out tactic to tip the scale, so he did it first, all the hardcore base hunting, the spawn killing, there’s a reason every other tactic he used usually followed a main channel qsmp post with updated rules - all usually things he was surprised no one else thought of. But then this also piles onto the fact that he has to have things go his way, all the time, and that he’s argumentative as all get out, which led to the debate between him and Bagi yknow. Especially because he’s not just doing it for the sake of being right, he doesn’t think he’s paranoid, but that he’s exercising the right amount of caution.

So like. Listen dude. Yeah he’s got reasons to be paranoid. But his thought process around building vaults for separate cookie caches like they locked up the risus pills, only to scrap it because it’s not perfectly impenetrable, is extreme. His character has hardly been a leading example in someone who has reasonable reactions to things. And even when there isn’t his own children’s livelihoods potentially on the line, he has a need for control, and the most control he has is if he keeps the cookies in his inventory at all times. If he makes himself the sole point in which the others can get ones in a case of emergency, then he can control the variables. The problem is he’s unreliable about himself when he’s at his most rational and healthiest, and he’s far worse with the current memory and health issues he’s been mostly unaware of.

I dunno it’s like. There is never going to be a purely impenetrable base. And it’s not just a case of “Bagi just hasn’t lived through __ yet!”. Bad’s own logic about keeping the cookies on him at all times is flawed under his own logic, because Bagi is right - if someone has enough drive to break into separate secured cookie caches purely for the downfall of eggs, they more than certainly have enough drive to find a way to kill Bad and just take them from his inventory, or to just kill the eggs themselves. All it truly does is give Bad a sense of control, and soothe his paranoia.

[drdemonprince]

The data does not support the assumption that all burned out people can “recover.” And when we fully appreciate what burnout signals in the body, and where it comes from on a social, economic, and psychological level, it should become clear to us that there’s nothing beneficial in returning to an unsustainable status quo. 

The term “burned out” is sometimes used to simply mean “stressed” or “tired,” and many organizations benefit from framing the condition in such light terms. Short-term, casual burnout (like you might get after one particularly stressful work deadline, or following final exams) has a positive prognosis: within three months of enjoying a reduced workload and increased time for rest and leisure, 80% of mildly burned-out workers are able to make a full return to their jobs. 

But there’s a lot of unanswered questions lurking behind this happy statistic. For instance, how many workers in this economy actually have the ability to take three months off work to focus on burnout recovery? What happens if a mildly burnt-out person does not get that rest, and has to keep toiling away as more deadlines pile up? And what is the point of returning to work if the job is going to remain as grueling and uncontrollable as it was when it first burned the worker out? 

Burnout that is not treated swiftly can become far more severe. Clinical psychologist and burnout expert Arno van Dam writes that when left unattended (or forcibly pushed through), mild burnout can metastasize into clinical burnout, which the International Classification of Diseases defines as feelings of energy depletion, increased mental distance, and a reduced sense of personal agency. Clinically burned-out people are not only tired, they also feel detached from other people and no longer in control of their lives, in other words.

Unfortunately, clinical burnout has quite a dismal trajectory. Multiple studies by van Dam and others have found that clinical burnout sufferers may require a year or more of rest following treatment before they can feel better, and that some of burnout’s lingering effects don’t go away easily, if at all. 

In one study conducted by Anita Eskildsen, for example, burnout sufferers continued to show memory and processing speed declines one year after burnout. Their cognitive processing skills improved slightly since seeking treatment, but the experience of having been burnt out had still left them operating significantly below their non-burned-out peers or their prior self, with no signs of bouncing back. 

It took two years for subjects in one of van Dam’s studies to return to “normal” levels of involvement and competence at work. following an incident of clinical burnout. However, even after a multi-year recovery period they still performed worse than the non-burned-out control group on a cognitive task designed to test their planning and preparation abilities. Though they no longer qualified as clinically burned out, former burnout sufferers still reported greater exhaustion, fatigue, depression, and distress than controls.

In his review of the scientific literature, van Dam reports that anywhere from 25% to 50% of clinical burnout sufferers do not make a full recovery even four years after their illness. Studies generally find that burnout sufferers make most of their mental and physical health gains in the first year after treatment, but continue to underperform on neuropsychological tests for many years afterward, compared to control subjects who were never burned out. 

People who have experienced burnout report worse memories, slower reaction times, less attentiveness, lower motivation, greater exhaustion, reduced work capability, and more negative health symptoms, long after their period of overwork has stopped. It’s as if burnout sufferers have fallen off their previous life trajectory, and cannot ever climb fully back up. 

And that’s just among the people who receive some kind of treatment for their burnout and have the opportunity to rest. I found one study that followed burned-out teachers for seven years and reported over 14% of them remained highly burnt-out the entire time. These teachers continued feeling depersonalized, emotionally drained, ineffective, dizzy, sick to their stomachs, and desperate to leave their jobs for the better part of a decade. But they kept working in spite of it (or more likely, from a lack of other options), lowering their odds of ever healing all the while. 

Van Dam observes that clinical burnout patients tend to suffer from an excess of perseverance, rather than the opposite: “Patients with clinical burnout…report that they ignored stress symptoms for several years,” he writes. “Living a stressful life was a normal condition for them. Some were not even aware of the stressfulness of their lives, until they collapsed.”

Instead of seeking help for workplace problems or reducing their workload, as most people do, clinical burnout sufferers typically push themselves through unpleasant circumstances and avoid asking for help. They’re also less likely to give up when placed under frustrating circumstances, instead throttling the gas in hopes that their problems can be fixed with extra effort. They become hyperactive, unable to rest or enjoy holidays, their bodies wired to treat work as the solution to every problem. It is only after living at this unrelenting pace for years that they tumble into severe burnout. 

Among both masked Autistics and overworked employees, the people most likely to reach catastrophic, body-breaking levels of burnout are the people most primed to ignore their own physical boundaries for as long as possible. Clinical burnout sufferers work far past the point that virtually anyone else would ask for help, take a break, or stop caring about their work.

And when viewed from this perspective, we can see burnout as the saving grace of the compulsive workaholic — and the path to liberation for the masked disabled person who has nearly killed themselves trying to pass as a diligent worker bee. 

I wrote about the latest data on burnout "recovery," and the similarities and differences between Autistic burnout and conventional clinical burnout. The full piece is free to read or have narrated to you in the Substack app at drdevonprice.substack.com

[multy-d00dles]

It's very easy to categorize the overblot as a breakdown- but all of them have a different type of lashing out.

Riddle's behavior is a trauma response. He is not listening; instead, he is solely focused on himself, which is a reaction to not feeling heard compared to his mother. She is the person he fears the most, and although he hates that he loves her, he feels conflicted. She was supposed to help him grow, but instead, she only shielded him from the realities of life.

Leona is driven by fear. He’s afraid of finishing in first place because he’s so accustomed to starting from second. The thought of being vulnerable, admitting his fears, and acknowledging his struggles terrifies him. He is so frightened that he resorts to using dirty tricks.

Azul struggles with vulnerability; he avoids opening up or confronting his past. He remembers the child he was forced into hiding and a life of learning just to endure. This child has grown up to prefer lies over sincerity, believing that deception has brought him further in life.

Jamil is determined to gain control over his own life and choices. He feels this control is lacking due to his family's affiliation with Kalim. While he strongly desires control, this desire becomes unhealthy when it extends to others.

Vil is driven by his desire for recognition. He wants to be perceived as exceptional, a model that cannot be compared to others or regarded as inferior. He seeks to control how others view him to the extent that he is willing to manipulate their perceptions, which includes putting others down.

Idia struggles with trauma. He never overcame the death of Ortho or the events that affected him and his family. Forced to grow up quickly, he now finds himself unable to do many things that others take for granted. He struggles to communicate with people, suffers from low self-esteem, and experiences profound fear. This fear leads him to isolate himself in his room, as it feels like the only way he can cope with life.

Malleus explores the theme of loss—loss of a loved one, loss of oneself, loss of one's past, and loss of purpose. It reflects on the fear of change and the inevitability of things never being the same once someone you deeply care about is gone, even if it’s not your fault.

[paradoxcase]

Right, so, after reading some error logs, obtaining a copy of the objects.package that shipped with the Sims 2 rerelease, and talking about this with Lazy Duchess, I have a conspiracy theory about why the rerelease is so damn broken

So first, I looked at an error log that was happening in the Enthusiasm Tracker. It was coming from the function that signs sims up for a magazine subscription after they choose that option on the phone. It's a very short function, all it does is 1) check to see if the family has a magazine subscription token, 2) create one if it does not already exist, and 3) set a property on the token regardless of whether 2 was necessary or not. All three of these actions make use of the Manage Inventory primitive, which controls not just sim inventories, but also tokens like this, memories, and gossip. I compared all like five lines of this function to the one in my objects.package, that I have from the Ultimate Collection, and they were exactly the same. But for some reason, in the rerelease, this throws an error. There is no explanation at the level of this function. I kind of scratched my head and thought, maybe they changed how the magazine subscription token works in this version, and forgot to update this function? Or something?

Next, there was an Too Many Iterations error log that had a very obvious cause: for some reason, the active family had over 500 tokens in its inventory. The family inventory isn't listed in the error log, so have no idea what those tokens were, or how there came to be 500+ of them. BUT. The aforementioned magazine subscription token is a token that goes in the family inventory. Maybe these two problems are somehow related. Are those 500 tokens all magazine subscription tokens, or something?

And then there is the infamous error that the game now throws when a sim goes to get abducted. I didn't see an error log for this one, but I was making a post on MTS listing all of the known issues with the rerelease, and someone mentioned there that the issue is not so much with the abduction as it is with other sims reacting to the abduction, and if there are no sims on the lot to react to the abduction, the error does not occur. Someone else then mentioned that the Abduction Reaction Fix mod that I made actually fixes this error. I made that mod, I know exactly what it does. What does it do?

Well, you see, objects in the game all have what is called a tree table, which is a table of interactions and the functions that need to be called when those interactions are triggered. One of the interactions on the telescope is the interaction to run to the telescope after someone has been abducted. But, in the Free Time expansion, a lot of new interactions were added to the telescope, and for some reason, EA decided to renumber all of the functions when they did that. They forgot to update the tree table, which references functions by their numbers, and as a result, the function that was called when sims were supposed to do the run-to-telescope interaction was actually the function that gives sims credit for discovering a new planet. In my mod, I fixed this, so that when sims are supposed to run to the telescope, the proper run-to-the-telescope function is called instead.

So, the error happens when my mod is not installed (when the planet discovery function is being called erroneously) and not when it is (when the run-to-the-telescope function is called instead). So the error must be coming from the planet discovery function. What is in the planet discovery function? It is almost identical to the magazine subscription function. It checks for the planet discovery token, adds it if it isn't there, and then modifies a property on it, using Manage Inventory. So this is exact same bug. And other people are reporting that some sims cannot gain memories - another game function that is handled by Manage Inventory. There is also an error that happens after a sim cooks food - one thing that happens at that point is that tokens and memories are added to the sim's inventory marking that they have successfully (or unsuccessfully) learned to cook that food.

So at this point, my theory is that EA somehow broke the Manage Inventory primitive. It's used all over the code, to do all sorts of stuff, if you break something that ubiquitous and fundamental, of course it's going to cause a whole lot of seemingly completely unrelated errors. Manage Inventory is now going hog-wild, throwing errors, adding hundreds of extraneous tokens to inventories, refusing to give sims memories, and who knows what else. I can feel it, this is the answer

[littlefankingdom]

I know y'all are not ready for it, but I'm this close 🤏 to hc Bruce having an eating disorder because of how strict Alfred is written about food in canon and fanon. Everyone is writing it as if it's a funny joke that the Batfam has to hide "unhealthy" snacks from him, but it's not. (Btw, just the "healthy" and "unhealthy" label are wrong and bad. Food is food.)

In the comics, Bruce will be offered a donut and think about how Alfred would disapprove and how it will harm his health, before accepting. And, sure, to live the life he lives, Bruce need to follow a particular diet. But it's just ONE donut, it cannot harm him. That's not a healthy mindset at all. The fact that Bruce, as a grown adult with kids, is thinking about Alfred's reaction to him eating a donut before accepting, vocalizing how it is against the rules, is alarming.

And maybe I would accept it, as a non-usamerican, if it was because of the toxic things they put in your food there (criminal what they make you eat), but it's never about that. No, it's about the calories and the heartburn, and "fast food and sugar" are bad, and "poor people food is bad" (Alfred's classicism is another point for another time). Alfred controls what the Wayne eat and he is very controlling about that, as the boys will also comment about Alfred disapproving something before eating it. This is some ED behavior, you shouldn't worry about food like this. And like, I'm split between being thankful neither Bruce or the kids enforce it to one another, but also being annoyed they need to remind others how "Alfred wouldn't approve" when they see them eating something not allowed.

Thinking about Dick and his cereals, especially that Nightwing (2016) page where he gets a Nightwing truck and it has a compartiment with a ton of cereals. It is a commun behavior in children who were restricted some type of food to over indulge in it once they are independent. If cereals were something Alfred was against because he finds it "unhealthy", Dick's extreme love for cereals is a red flag.

Me, talking about Bruce: The boy was mentally fucked up enough, you didn't have to give him an ED on top, Alfred!

[prettybugsinbandages]

Idk how to tag anything properly but this is angst, little comfort and dark themes!! Please don't read if you're in a bad place currently because it might just make you feel worse!!

When they all arrived in Twisted Wonderland, the reactions varied wildly; Irritation, indifference, curiosity, empathy, pity, disgust, admiration. All directed towards them—The Yuus. Not you. You didn't even seem to exist.

You aren't important. At least not enough to be a protagonist in this story all seven of them are living in.

The realization that you're alone in this world seems to hit like ice cold water dumped over your head and the chill of it creeps into your heart, freezing your veins and arteries.

You arrived the same way they did: Another world, no magic, the black carriage ride that would've seemed like a lifetime opportunity. But you aren't like the Yuus. You can't muster the determination and resolve they have to push through this unfamiliar terrain without much of a reaction. In fact, you cannot even begin to understand why none of them are upset about this.

Why? You find yourself asking over and over again and the question echoes relentlessly in your mind. Why aren't they grieving everything they've lost? Because you can't seem to stop thinking about it—Everything you've ever amounted to is gone. All your relationships, achievements, successes and lessons. Everything you've built is gone like a dream. Erased in an instant.

Hundreds—no—thousands of eyes stare at all of you. You don't have time to think about how beautiful they are. You've been stripped bare and raw of everything that ever made you you. You've been killed without ever physically dying.

As you struggle to adjust into this unfamiliar world, you can't help but admire others you share Ramshackle with. They're strong and determined, truly remarkable individuals. Charismatic and brave, they seem like the type of fictional characters the fanbase would adore—praised for the grit and unyielding stubbornness they display valiantly. Even the other students of magic descent respect them.

Sometimes you lie awake in your room—rundown and shabby, but improving. Together you're slowly transforming the dorm into something livable, maybe even inviting. During moments like these you find deep appreciation within yourself for the other seven that arrived with you. In vulnerable moments like this, they aren't companions; they're a lifeline.

Then there's you—a playground rock next to shining gems on pedestals. They reassure you that you're important. But nobody outside these croaking walls seems to believe that. The frustration builds sometimes, a tight knot in your chest just twisting and turning, and inevitably only knotting more. Curled up on the creaky floor, clutching your hair while staring wide-eyed at a single spot as if that floorboard specifically caused all of this. Tears don't seem to come; instead, you sit there, taking deep, shuddering breaths, lost in a sea of thoughts that you're drowning in.

Why? Why are you treated like a Ramshackle ghost—or even less? You all share the same origin, the same story of loss and these faux "New beginnings", so what makes you so different, so unappealing that nobody seems to want to spare more time than polite? Is it because of the fear that grips your heart? Its clutch is tight and cold, holding you to this new world full of threats hidden behind the guise of beautiful and new magic you didn't have back home.

The mesmerizing people that wield such pretty magic can control bodies while leaving consciousness intact—or the opposite. The idea of someone with malicious intent having that power over you is a chilling nightmare. You cannot simply compete for your own safety.

The inhabitants of Twisted Wonderland are simply stronger. Not just the fae, mers, or beastpeople, but even the humans. Their bodies are resilient, able to shrug off low-level magic that would leave you bloody or bruised.

At times you wonder why exactly nobody seems to care enough to remember you and there are moments when you find yourself gazing in the mirror, only met with an unfamiliar face. The reflection you're met with isn't quite yours—it's something darker, something hollow. A shadow, endless and consuming, its eyes locking with yours with an unnerving intensity. That smile, twisted in ways that were once pretty, no longer feels like it belongs on your face.

It's almost as you though you're looking at an echo of yourself, a distorted version that somehow feels both foreign and familiar, comforting in its familiarity but unsettling in its wrongness.

You blink, and the reflection moves. Just a slight shift, a creeping inch closer to the glass, closer than where you stand in reality. Your heart leaps into your throat, panic surging through you as you back away, tearing yourself from the bathroom and your own gaze. You slam the door behind you, leaning against its cold, worn surface. But even as the chill presses against your skin, it does nothing to calm the racing of your heart. The sleep deprivation is wearing you thin, and the hallucinations are becoming harder to ignore, more frequent, more real.

Ace's eyes narrow as you attempt to make small talk in the Ramshackle kitchen. He's friends with all the Yuus and quite close with them all. Deuce lingers somewhere nearby and you can hear his footsteps clomping around as he chases Grim. A soundtrack you've grown familiar with over time.

"—so yeah. He totally shrugged us off. Said we weren't 'big kid' enough to know what was going on." Ace rants, throwing his arms up in exasperation before running a hand through shaggy locks, his scarlet eyes met your own briefly before he continued rambling about something that had happened today in physed. His words swirl around you, filled with the day's energy, yet never fully reaching.

You always liked when the Adeuce duo visited. They were really only here for the others and you knew it, of course. If you remain in your room when they visit, neither boy will seek you out. They only included you in their escapades when you're right there—an afterthought. It felt cruel, like an unspoken rule of polite indifference. Nobody hated you, you just weren't important.

Deuce poked his face into the room, offering a polite wave as he rummaged through the fridge for a snack before leaning against the counter as he watched you make lunch. His expression is thoughtful and only vaguely curious.

"You don't really do anything, do you?" The words slipped out like a quiet curiosity that cut deeper than he likely intended. It's not a jab, just a question. Maybe that makes it hurt more. You felt like a rarely regarded lamp in a corner, the bulb long burned out, the shade dusty and untouched, and a soft light no longer emit from it.

You awkwardly muster a smile and try to respond—to list a reason you're worth more attention than you receive, but your voice falters. Before you can say a word, Grim streaks across the table, scattering papers and bunching up the cheap cloth. One paw hits Ace in the face and Deuce barely manages to avoid a fall with the creature darting between his legs.

Both boys shoot up, laughter and curses ringing out through the dorm as they chase Grim out of the room. You're left in the quiet, the emptiness settling over you like dust—suffocating and dull. The buzz of the kitchen light hums in the silence, a low, monotonous sound that only seems to heighten the irritation building inside. It's the kind of anger that feels pointless, but it consumes you anyway, making you feel unbearably stagnant.

Your eyes are locked on the tiles beneath your feet, the stark off-whiteness almost glaring under the dim light. You stare so intensely that your eyes begin to sting, but you can't bring yourself to look away. Something feels off, something is off.

And then, it hits you. Your oldest companion—the one constant presence you could always count on—has abandoned you. Your shadow is gone. For a fleeting moment, you feel exposed, like the absence of it leaves you vulnerable. You almost want to reach out, to search for it, but there's nothing there. The realization leaves you with a cold, sinking feeling, and the silence suddenly feels oppressive.

Your gaze pulls away from the tiles, heart racing, trying to dismiss the unsettling feeling. Turning back to the counter, you expect to regain a semblance of calm. But as you do, something catches your eye—your shadow is cast strangely, distorted in a way you don't recall. Paranoia gnaws at you, the question unanswered. Was it always like this? You couldn't even remember.

Before you could process it any further, you hear Yuuken's voice, calling you from down the hall, asking for help with the renovations.

Engaging with anyone here was an uphill battle—woundingly difficult. The conversations seem one sided, his interest always fleeting as if there's nothing about you that's all that interesting. You're invisible. Once again, feeling like a ghost, a nameless background character in a story you were pasted into, into a story that you weren't even supposed to be dragged into.

What cuts deeper like a blade into the fat layer is the reality that you're not just standing idle. You're there in the overblots, fighting every battle as if you were qualified despite being dastardly unfit for this work. Fighting just as fiercely for people who don't even dare to acknowledge your existence for longer than necessary. You've pulled people to safety, pushed others out of the way of dangerous attacks and when it's all over you're tending to the injured, soothing the boy whose overblotted until he comes to. Yet when he wakes his eyes are darting for someone else.

All you want—all you need—is a simple acknowledgement. A thanks.

Yuu is injured but so are you. "What about me?" The words slip out before you can stop them

"What about you?" He repeats as his eyes rake over your crumpled form; battered and broken.

His voice is distant, edged with a vague obligation of care or pity. "You're hurt. Staff and paramedics will be here soon. Stay put." You would've felt your heart swell to feel any sort of acknowledgement and being withdrawn from your lonely bubble but he goes ahead and says that to everyone else and the hope sputters out and fades away. Are you merely another faceless voice in the crowd?

But he's beside Yuuka and her friends, thanking them tending to the others, offering words of comfort and appreciation and a hot surge of jealousy envelops you for only a fleeting moment before it cools almost immediately. It's not Yuu's fault. She's stumbling over words, eyes darting between you and him, desperately trying to redirect all the praise.

"They helped a lot too. Don't worry about me. Please—they took a lot of hits for the team—" her voice is rushed, earnest. She sees you. She knows.

But you're numb. The words wash over you, leaving you staring blankly. Your focus sharpens as you watch him, the indifference cutting deeper than any wound from battle.

It's not Yuu's fault, you think, the realization like a blade. And it's not mine either.

Your eyes harden, the simmering negativity solidifying into something darker—hatred for this world and its unforgiving, selective gaze.

The Blot's words wrapped around you like velvet, warm and inviting. Each word a whisper, and just beyond your comprehension. It spoke in a language too rich, too layered for you to fully grasp, yet you found yourself managing a nod and agreeing to flowery promises barely understood.

Home seems too far now, a vague dream you once had a long time ago that's memories grow dim within your worn mind. Crowley's so-called "research" moves at a snail's pace, each reassurance vague and hollow with no weight behind it. They have housewardens, heirs, socialites, all silently pining to have them by their side in the end. The others have people who want them here.

When graduation comes, you know you'll be alone. No citizenship, no comforting embrace after a long day, no government papers to properly own a home, and no magic to shield you.

A higher education was beyond your reach without the proper credentials. You could aim for a trade but no reputable company would hire a ghost in the system without insurance. Shadier paths were on the table for you but you didn't want to hurt innocent people and you weren't ready to die. Not yet.

"You promise?" The words rasped from your throat, a fragile plea to the pitch-black figure—it smiles.

Snowflakes gathered on your broken body, frostbite gnawed at your fingertips and toes. The cold seeped deep, pressing kisses to your very bone marrow. The results of the accident are chilling, your body numb and your mind blocking the pain out.

"You'd accept even if I won't, darling." It purred, voice dripping with amusement and leaning over your mangled body. Once again you looked like broken porcelain. Doll carnage—too pretty to die in its eyes.

"You're going to die in that stupid uniform." It reminds with a melodious laugh escaping it, crouching so unseen eyes met yours and the empty gaze felt cold like a harpoon through your skull.

A response doesn't form just yet, instead your words linger on time quickly slipping away. "You'll make me live?"

"You make it sound like a punishment."

"It could be."

Its grin only widened. "I'll make you thrive—I'll sponsor you. Only to test magicless bodies, of course. You're soaked with hatred, my dove—enough to feed me for centuries and I just might be able to use all that to give you some fancy powers," The Blot chimed and waves it's hands around with a lighthearted laugh as if you're not mangled and dying right now.

You muster a nod and your vision is blurring quickly, adrenaline settling in as your blood pumped quickly to get you up, away from the charming danger you'd shake hands with if your body was capable of movement.

"I've waited too long.." It murmured softly, a hint of cruel reverence sends a shiver runs down your spine as the Blot's presence looms closer, its hands—tender, almost too tender—brush away strands of hair from your face, as if trying to soothe the tension there. Your body trembles under the weight of its touch, that impossible softness juxtaposed with the suffocating darkness that clings to it. The Blot's dark hands reach for you, wrapping around your shoulder and back to prop you up, not in malice but in something more unsettling, as though its cradling you like something fragile, something it fears may break at the breeze.

It laughs, a low, melodious sound, "Even a worm will turn," it murmurs under its breath, the words curling into your mind, buzzing like static. You can't focus on anything other than the overwhelming presence of it, the heat of its breath a nearly welcome sensation against the stinging snow, slowly burying you.

It'd been a few days since the accident—now you walk the halls, your feet knowing the path subconsciously as your eyes linger on the jewelry again, the weight of it palpable on your finger. The design is intricate, just as you'd always admired—luxurious without tipping over into excess, a perfect balance of elegance. But it's the stone at its center that pulls at you, black as the void. It swallows light, reflecting nothing but its own cold depth, as if it has its own consciousness. You feel it almost stare back at you.

A scoff slips past your lips, quiet but bitter. On your left ring finger... really? The symbolism is unmistakable, painfully so. The left ring finger—a spot traditionally reserved for unions of love, a mark that binds two hearts together. But for you, it's a symbol of something far more suffocating. This ring doesn't speak of affection or choice. It speaks of a contract. A binding agreement you were coerced into on the brink of death.

You'd like to think that in a normal situation you would've denied it but a voice in the back of your consciousness rejects that. You know you would have taken the deal.

Yuuta's voice comes from behind, cutting through the weight of your thoughts. You don't flinch, but his sudden presence forces you back into reality. His usual smile is present, though there's something different in his eyes today—a worry you can't quite ignore.

"Hey! You walk fast-" He pants, falling into step beside you. "Doing anything for lunch? Me and the others are... honestly really worried about you. Ever since you came back a few days ago from that night-blizzard-walk.. you've been off." His voice drops slightly as he tilts his head to try and meet your gaze.

It's hard to resist his pleading look. Yuuta has a way of being both persistent and comforting, and something about him makes you swallow your usual refusal. You nod, even though you'd planned to stay alone, to work through your thoughts—thoughts about the Blot, the contract, and the strange shift in the world since you'd returned.

Sighing inwardly, you follow him to the familiar table. As you lower yourself onto the bench, your thoughts stills scattered, the sound of something unpleasant catches you off guard—a soft, squishy noise. You frown, reaching down to find a purple whoopie cushion beneath you.

Before you can say anything, Ace's laughter rings out, easily cutting through the table's chatter. "I told you it'd work! They're always in their own world, seriously."

Epel's high-five to Ace is audible, and you can almost feel their amusement. Deuce, on the other hand, shoots Ace a disapproving look. "A whoopie cushion? What are you, twelve?"

Ace chuckles, standing and grabbing the whoopie cushion from your hands before glancing back at the others, a mischievous grin still present on his face. "Firstly, I saw you laugh too, and hey, what can I say? I'm a guy who appreciates the classics." His crimson eyes flick to you, and before you can even process it, he taps the cushion gently on your head a few times. "Real spacey lately, huh?"

The words hang in the air, and for a split second, you freeze. Spacey. They're speaking first. They're acknowledging you first. After everything, after how invisible you've felt... now they decide to reach out?

Anger grows in your chest but you quickly suppress it. Your fingers instinctively brush the blot ring on your finger, feeling its cold weight. Thrive. The Blot's promise. The smile and soft words is the only thing you can offer right now, even if it feels a little too forced, too foreign on your face.

"Have I been?" You ask, the words coming out light and easygoing. "It's difficult to sleep in a rickety, haunted dorm. You and the others should sleepover more. I like the background noise."

It wasn't a full lie. You did feel less lonely when they visited, but the feeling only increased tenfold when you could hear everyone downstairs while you remained forgotten in your room. Still, you left the invitation open.

Just you wait. You thought, your smile dimming as Ace returned to his spot and the conversation flowed, your earlier anxieties and insecurities nulled by the ring thanks to the contract.

You'll ease yourself into their lives, each thread slipping through the spaces between them, invisible but vital. Not just the ones at the table, but everyone you've fought for, the ones who've forgotten you, the ones who've never seen you or bothered to try. You'll become a part of them so intertwined that they'll find it impossible to live without seeing you in every aspect of their days and nights.

In time, you'll make sure of it. You'll be everywhere—in their laughter, in their sorrows, in the smallest moments, the ones they think they can forget. They'll breathe you in without even realizing, and soon, every part of their lives will have a thread of you running through it. You'll be their lifeline.

part two

srry if its not the cute, comforting lovestory you were expecting lol

I'm sorta leaving it on an open end here to keep you all guessing ig lol. I can probably write separate minifics or whatever for this au I made or drabbles or maybe even a second chapter if anyone wants.

I wrote this in November and am posting it now so that was my procrastination ig

I've been sitting on this idea with no motivation to write it for probably two years so spare with me if it doesn't make sense or it's no good.

First time writing for tumblr and I haven't written outside of my notes app in a long time lol

[thatnonameuser]

A Wonderland Of Yanderes

Intro, Part 1,Part 3 here Tagging for the first time @blue-rae18 Minors DNI Trigger Warnings: Mentions of Rape and Non-con but it's a subtle.

You'd bitten your tongue bloody all the way through Crewel's opening lecture. There were so many questions. So many sick and twisted answers.

One class filled you with so much dread

A class about kidnapping, murder and brainwashing some poor innocent soul into Stockholm Syndrome. All shoved underneath the the guise of true love.

A 'darling', the name for someone who was the object of a yandere's unwanted affection. An innocent who spend the rest of their lives living in fear, while someone smothers and controls them with their obsessive love against their will.

And this is all being taught and treated as a normal.

As if it's fine to take someone hostage because you love them.

As if it's fine to kill someone they love if you love them more.

As if it's fine to do unspeakable acts to them and their bodies against their will.

With how much nausea and bile coursing through your stomach and throat it was a miracle you didn't throw in the middle of the lecture.

But that's not what scared you.

What scared you was how bored Ace was as Crewel spoke, how enraptured Deuce looked as he heard about this. How curious some of the other students were about the methods they could use to steal innocent people from their homes, families and lives. How excited some were hearing about some of the ways they would learn about the ways they would use to break the desire for freedom in their future 'partners'.

It was terrifying.

That your friends would kill for someone they love.

Would they kill you?

You don't want to think about that right now. Right now, you needed answers. Fast.

"Crowley! Crowley I need to talk to you!" You shout as you storm in Crowley's office. As soon as the lecture ended you got the hell out of dodge and headed straight to Crowley's office, ready to demand answers.

The door opens to reveal a smiling Crowley, but that doesn't soothe your nerves. "Ah! My dear, what has your feathers ruffled?"

You swallow roughly, "Crowley.......Why didn't you tell me about the fact that I could be........legally murdered here?!"

He tilts his head, "Oh. That must've slipped my mind." You look at him, bewildered.

"I could-" Crowley interrupts you.

"Fear not though. As I am gracious, I already have ensured that will not happen!"

You want to feel relief but you can't, instead suspicion fills you.

"H-How?" According to Crewel's lecture only one crime wasn't pardoned. Darling Murder, and you weren't a darling. You got here on accident and you're not apart of this world so there's no way-

"Crewel was kind enough to inform me of your reaction to his lecture, and I've seen you this past week, how you've tamed your fiery little familiar so quickly." The smile he makes while he speaks fills you with fear, "Only darlings act the way you do~"

"What?"

"As a result, I've had you registered as Darling on and off this island. No one will raise a hand against you." He pauses, "At least not enough to kill you," he laughs at that.

"B-but I'm not from here! What if someone tries to kidnap me, or drug me, or....anything else!? I have a family, friends, and a life back in my home world!" You reason, but Crowley just laughs.

"Ah, the usual darling spiel~ Fear not, I will continue to find a way for you to return home." You feel a sigh of relief bubble into your throat, but before you can release it, what Crowley says next makes your blood freeze.

"But if someone takes you as their own, I cannot and will not try to intervene."

"What!? B-but-"

"I'm afraid after someone stakes their claim, a duel must be done to relinquish that claim to another. You must understand, it would be such a hassle to do every time someone stakes their claim."

"W-wait a second-"

"Of course, I'll leave a way for you to return to your world, but whether you're allowed to leave is another story. You must understand."

"I-I didn't ask to be here, Crowley, you c-can't just-"

"My dear, perhaps the reason the carriage came for you in the first place was for you to belong to another here. Regardless of how you feel about it, my and your hands are tied."

"B-But-"

"Oh, and I should give you fair warning. Many of our students are well aware on the traits a darling like you tend to have. Some may already have their eye on you. Your little friends Ace and Deuce seem to."

You're stunned silent. Ace and Deuce might be, what?

"Y-You're lying...." you whisper.

"I'm afraid not, but as I am gracious I'll inform the ghosts in Ramshackle to keep an eye out for you. They seem to have taken a shine onto you." Why because, you lived with them or because they're obsessed with you too?

What's wrong with this world?

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑶 𝑹𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑳𝑬 𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 𝑯𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵

[ aftercare ] ― he would cuddle you right after and clean you up depending on the mess you two made. I can also imagine him smoking a cigarette next to you If you‘re okay with that and If not he would cuddle you for a while and then stand up to smoke at the window – then coming back for cuddles ofc

[ body part ] ― he is a ass type of man to me. Always has a hand near your booty but also your face ? Like his hands would always stroke your cheeks and he would leave kisses all over it - oh and ofc he LOVES your pussy

[ cum ] ― he‘d go NUTS seeing you covered in it, marking you as his

[ desires ] ― He would go crazy for any kind of sort of begging from you - hearing your whiny voice begging him to do the filthy things to you he loves so much. Teasing him would also he a big turn on for him. Bending over things, accidently brushing your hand over his thigh near his dick

[ experience ] ― HONESTLY i know most of us like to think he‘s experienced and knows what he‘s doing bc he had mich sex before BUT I think a lot of girls would be terrified of him being the dark lord‘s son. So yes he is a natural and knows just what feels good, studying your reactions to his touch all night long but he would not have that much experience

[ first time ] ― Like i said he wouldn‘t sleep around that much so maybe it‘s with his first girlfriend or situationship he has with a girl he likes

[ grooming ] ― he wouldn‘t be very picky about how you groom as long as it‘s not completely out of control - he himself would make sure it‘s always clean and trimmed ? Idk man i never thought of that

[ horny ] Mattheo is a horndog 100%. And she wouldn’t even have to try since he would get a boner from almost everything she does. I think physical touch would be important to him since he never got much of it and also wants to try so much with you so he can win more experience to please you even better.

[ intimacy ] — Depends on what you like - he‘s a pleaser in my head so If you would want soft he would prepper you in kisses and praising words "you‘re doing so good baby i love you so much." but If you‘d like it rough he would dirty talk to you until your eyes roll back and manhandle you "fuck baby you feel my cock inside your belly? M' gonna fuck every other thought out of your head."

[ joker ] ― he could laugh when slmething clumsy happens but otherwise he‘d be more on the serious/passionate side

[ kinks ] ― Mattheo loves seeing u begging as i said but also is into you calling him daddy or sir, anything that makes him feel powerful. A kink he didn‘t know he had was his being sub. It didn‘t happen that often but he‘d enjoy it so much after like a rough week - you taking care of him and not judging but loving his little whimpers - also a little orgasm denial on you

[ locations ] ― literally anywhere - he would not give a single fuck If someone saw you two fucking as long as he can shield or hide your naked body - but If it would he a quiecky with him just sliding under your skirt he would love the drill of being caught and claiming you as his for other‘s

[ masturbation ] ― he‘s a horndog + single? Then he‘d masturbate quiete a lot but when he finally got you, he didn‘t need to anymore

[ no go ] ― anything that has to do with other people - he‘d be way too possessive and jealous for including someone else into your sexlife

[ oral ] ― MUNCH MUNCH MUNCH you cannot tell me otherwise! He would get drunk on your pussy, eating it out for hours sometimes. But he also enjoys getting sucked off by you too

[ positions ] ― he loves seeing your face twist in pleasure and your little gasps for air when he fucks into you. so anything like fucking you from behind but in front of a mirror or you riding him and trying your best bouncing up and down on him would do it for him - but I also think when the two if you argue and fuck he would push your face into a pillow while grabbing your hips from behind so you would shut up

[ quickies ] ― he‘d love them cause that means he get‘s extra sex in between classes, before quidditch training or studying

[ rounds ] ― i think his stanima is good like 2-3 long rounds before he would have to take his first break. Either he would smoke a cigarette or eat you out in the meantime

[ secrets ] ― he doesn‘t have real secrets since he‘s really comfortable with you

[ toys ] ― he would be confused when he first caught you with one - poor voy thinking you don‘t enjoy his cock but after you explain it to him he would use it here and there on you vut mostly just when he try‘s teasing and edging you

[ underwear ] ― he LOVES when you wear red for him, not caring what kind of underwear as long as it‘s red. He‘d also almost come directly in his pants when he notice you don‘t wear any under your skirt but would punish you still

[ volume ] ― Mattheo loves your loud moans and screams of his name, he would praise you so much for it and just gets drunk on your little whimpers for him - mattheo would also be quiete vocal always dirty talking to you or groaning at how tight you feel around him

[ watch ] ― he would never let anyone watch you - not even over his dead body but like i said before when you have clothes on and he slips under your skirt he‘d enjoy someone catching you two

[ xxx ] ― would only watch when he‘s single but even then not that often

[ yearning ] ― he would be the biggest tease ever! Stroking your inner thigh under the table in class or at dinner. He‘d tease you by whispering all the things he wants to do to you in your ear while all your friends are around, slowly brushing his hands over your clothes pussy when nobody‘s looking

[ zzz ] ― usually depends on his day. If he had quidditch training or was awake all night then he‘d be tired after it but otherwise he‘d kind of get his energy from fucking you

you do not have to agree on that – remeber he‘s fictional and that‘s MY opinion 🫶🏻

here‘s my masterlist If you wanna read more <3

taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @sofa-couch26 @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @izriddle @kr-1-sta @sagetakami

xoxo sarah <3

[mythalism]

i think what people need to understand is that no amount of essays assuring me of veilguard's strengths, of which i agree there are plenty, is going to change the fact that the emotional experience veilguard prompted within me (and for many others) while i played it was a deeply negative one. discomfort at best, painful at worst. im talking stomach aches. visceral, somatic creeping disappointment and dread that i tried to fight for hours and hours but eventually had no choice but to accept. i stopped wanting to play entirely around 30 hours. i felt vaguely ill. i felt anxious. i could not sleep for a few days. and im not saying i felt sick because it was so bad, but that i felt sick because of the sinking realization that i was about to be terribly, horribly disappointed after so, so long. you could call me dramatic and im sure someone will. idk what to tell you. my emotions manifest physically long before they become decipherable or understandable to me mentally, especially when they're 10 years in the making. probably an autism symptom. regardless, it was genuinely pretty awful, especially because i had immense good faith for this game. i was so hopeful and optimistic and generally thrilled and literally anyone who followed me before october 31 would know that. the emotional whiplash and crash was intense and devastating, and i was reeling for days. you cannot tell me that this experience was "wrong" or "toxic" due to it's negative nature. it was entirely involuntary and outside of my control, as i would expect many people's joy was. emotional reactions are not beholden to fandom discourse.

any post i have made criticizing the game since is attempt to make sense of the emotional roller-coaster of the past 10 years, this summer, and finally this game's release. i do not come on here and write out my criticisms of veilguard because i want YOU to dislike it too. the nature of my essays are not persuasive. if they do persuade you its just because i am a well-trained essayist. sorry. if they dont, great! that wasnt the point. i have no desire to change anyone's mind on the game, in fact i actually would not wish the disappointment i felt on anyone. the fact that i have a lot of followers who agree with what i say and who spread the thoughts i express across tumblr is literally out of my control. when i write out my long-winded criticisms, it is out of a need to express and externalize that sinking, cold feeling i had while playing, in pursuit of understanding exactly why playing that game felt that way to me. identifying, analyzing and verbalizing is the only way i have been able to process my experience. its confessional and therapeutic more than anything. it helps other people understand their own difficult emotional process with the game. its not an attempt to ruin your fun. my negative experience with veilguard does not invalidate anyone else's positive one.

i see so many posts acting like all criticism is an intentional, targeted hate campaign and i dont understand that assumption. to what ends? what would that achieve? why would i bother with such a thing? maybe that is some people's intention in the deep hater corners of this website, and im blissfully unaware. if it is, fuck them. its certainly the intention of annoying grifters, but i feel the distinction between transphobe grifters and devastated fans is pretty clear, so im not sure why the lines are deliberately blurred as if those groups are remotely similar. some of my criticisms come from a more objective place. the writing comes to mind, and it's a consistent criticism from thousands of players. but just because i consider it to be poorly executed, does not make it unlovable. and when i say that i think its poorly done, i am not saying that you cannot or should not love it, or that you are stupid for loving it. maybe someone out there is saying that!!! but i am not. things do not have to be perfect to be enjoyable. they dont even have to be well executed to be enjoyable. "i think x aspect of veilguard is poorly done for yz reasons" is a completely different sentence than "you should not like x aspect of veilguard for yz reasons". these are not the same statements. i see so many posts that are so vitriolic and acting like two experiences of this game cannot coexist, that one has to win and be objectively right, moralizing them on a false axis of positivity = good and negativity = bad, and acting like the existence of one negates the experience of the other. and why? why would that be true? i literally love so many things that other people think are absolute ass. i also love plenty of things that i myself think are actual ass. i love them anyway. this is allowed and really fun. i am not sure who told you that it is not.

however, i have just as much of a right to express my disappointment as you have to express your excitement. i am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the game, i am glad it resonated, or that you saw yourself in its characters, or that it just scratched your hyperfixation itch. but whatever je ne se quoi it had for you, it did not have for me. i have written out so much criticism about so many aspects of the game, but fundamentally what it comes down to and what i cannot express in words is that while i played after waiting 10 years for that moment, it felt wrong. it wasn't that i had specific expectations for game story that were not met, in fact, it exceeded my expectations in a lot of ways. i mean that in terms of how i felt, something was off. it did not resonate. it did not land. it did not hit the right cord with me. i did not have enough moments of joy to outweigh the feeling of emptiness. i did not walk away from it feeling the way that the previous games made me feel. and ive been trying to figure out exactly why that is for three months now by talking about it with people who feel similarly. i am not sure that i will ever be able to analyze my way into figuring it out. it might just have to simply be that it left me bereft.

and so my posts are not anti-veilguard hater propaganda to make you feel like shit for loving the game. rather, they are me verbally processing exactly why i feel like shit so i can hopefully stop feeling like shit. to assume that people who are trying to process these negative feelings are toxic and intentionally malicious is a projection made in bad faith. i love dragon age, and it is because i love it so much that it disappointed me, and it is because disappointed me that i have to verbally process it on tumblr.com so that i dont go absolutely insane. i tag my posts properly. i do not go into tags where i do not belong. i do not rage-bait. i am participating in post-partum dragon age therapy between me and my followers. if it ends up on your dash, sorry. my therapy is popular i guess. so please for the love of god enjoy the game, freely and enthusiastically. i am happy for you. i will sit here and be jealous that it spoke to something in your soul that it unfortunately did not speak to in mine, and nothing i say can take that away from you. please stop interpreting it as an attempt to.

[genderqueerpositivity]

I absolutely cannot wait for this election cycle to be over because genuinely what the fuck. I keep drawing parallels to the 2016 election because there are just so many similarities, but what I haven't said much about yet are the ways in which things are worse.

Having the majority of people I know or randomly encounter be Trump supporting Republicans is absolutely wild now, because sometimes they will just drop the most unhinged comments you could possibly imagine into casual conversation as if they're simply commenting that the grass is green or the weather is nice today, and every time it gives me this bizarre sensation like I am somehow the one living in a different plane of reality.

The Democrats are intentionally bringing undocumented people into the country and giving them drivers licenses so they can vote in the upcoming November election, and unless Donald Trump wins and is allowed to carry out his mass deportation plan the United States will never again have a Republican Christian president.

Joe Biden has been using the US military to release chemicals into the atmosphere for the past four years which have the ability to affect the weather in order to trick the American public into believing that climate change is real.

The attack on Donald Trump at his rally was rally a plot enacted by The Deep State, a secret group of powerful liberals who are running the country behind the scenes, and they don't want Trump to win in November because he is too powerful for them to control.

Joe Biden was replaced by a secret identical body double when he allegedly had Covid several weeks ago, and the double is the one who really dropped out of the election, gives all of his speeches, and does all of his interviews now for him.

Those are just the ones I heard last week.

And the reactions I get when contradicting these wild takes range from rage to mocking to a bizarre persecution complex. In 2016 and even in 2020 I was able to have a lot of productive conversations with many people who disagreed with me greatly on major issues, and that is largely not happening this time. If I dare to disagree, they turn to anger, attack me personally, or cry immediately that I'm denying their right to free speech. When bringing up my actual lived experiences with certain issues, I've been dismissed immediately as emotional and brainwashed. There is no room for discourse or discussion anymore, it has broken down.

I know that we've been going out of our way to call them weird, but we're not really talking about fringe weirdo conspiracy theorists anymore, we're talking about your neighbors and my coworkers and your aunt and the guy behind me in line at Aldi. These people are everywhere, they're 100% serious about believing in this shit, and they're voting Republican in November come hell or high water, truth be goddamed.

You know, the lives of millions and millions of women, LGBTQ+ people, undocumented people, and other marginalized peoples are at stake in this election but it feels increasingly like reality is at stake too.

"Alternative facts" sounded outrageous seven years ago...now they've made it a way of life. Unless we can correct course, and rapidly, it isn't going to get better.

[drdemonprince]

how do you get started as a new dom? it feels hard to be sure of yourself when you’re unsure of yourself

You really gotta get the theatrics of it all to work for you.

Use a blindfold. If your sub can't see where you are or what you're doing, their imagination will run wild and they'll find even the smallest touch or action from you to be vastly more exciting. And since they can't see you, you've bought yourself time to think, wander around, and plan your next move.

Use time and setting to your advantage. Be sensual and methodical in getting your sub handcuffed or tied up. Start with simple tools that you know how to use and have practiced with at home, and really draw out the process of getting the sub into position. If you're into impact rather than bondage, bend them over with a broad, warm palm on their back and trace the backs of their thighs. Don't move too quickly. This will hide a lot of your jitters and make everything more intense.

Don't be afraid to ask questions, check in, and remark at what works and what doesn't -- just do not do so in a self-deprecating way. If a command or a gesture just doesn't land in the way that you thought that it would, do not become crestfallen. That a Dom can instantly read their sub's every desire and reaction is just a fantasy. Think of yourself as a scientist who has a brand-new creature under observation. You may find that your sub adores tickling (or hates it), that a hot breath on their neck makes them squeal (or does nothing at all). Every specimen is unique and part of the pleasure is the exploration of their body and testing out their reactions. It's boring and unsexy to have a routine set of moves. Be responsive and curious rather than rote.

Find what you love about Dominance. Do you like fighting to subdue a bratty sub? Or do you prefer a docile good boy/girl/thing that will melt like butter under your touch? Are you handsy? Do you like controlling your sub's every movement, posing them like a doll? Or do you want to see yourself issuing commands and receiving service? Remember that your pleasure matters a great deal and will get the sub going, and orient a lot of your moves around that. Have your sub orally service you or make you a coffee or give you a massage. All kinky play is a negotiation between all parties' desires and limits. Make sure to inject yourself into what's happening -- and into your sub's behaviors and their frame of mind.

Don't worry too much about putting on a fake Dom voice or embodying a persona -- far too many newbie Doms think they need to speak in a deep and emotionless register and have everything figured out. It's far more alluring to be more human. Some people's Dominance looks like the way a proud cat mom talks to her pets. Other people are silly and playful like DeeDee from Dexter's Laboratory torturing her little brother. You can be a primal, snarling creature, a princess upon a throne, or a world-weary worker who takes out their daily frustrations on their living sex toy. Find what feels natural to you because then it will be easier to continue to embody your dominance as the situation evolves and unexpected things come up.

A note on finding partners: It can be difficult to find good submissive when you are an inexperienced Dom, because people understandably want to be placed into safe and competent hands. Try not to take this personally, and keep focusing on building up your skills, which you are entirely in control of. Take a class on shibari or impact. Get some toys. Visit a dungeon and ask questions. Befriend other Dominants and do some service to the broader community, so that you have people you can tap for advice and mentorship.

Once you have established yourself as a familiar face in the scene, then you can work on finding experienced subs who know what they like and can show you the ropes. Newbie Doms sometimes get intimidated by experienced subs, worrying that they cannot possibly match the intensity of those subs' prior sexual encounters-- but this is entirely the wrong way to look at it. Experienced subs know what they like and are experts at entering a submissive headspace. It will be easier to get them to respond to you than a completely unseasoned sub who's head is also not in the moment because they're filled with nerves. Working with someone who is older or more seasoned than you is not a threat to your Dominance. A new rider should start with a very well-trained horse, and doing so will help bolster the rider's confidence.

Have fun out there!

[divinebunnii]

idk how to tell you this but neurodivergent people react in an instant, on accident. we cannot regulate the “maybe I should think about this a moment” part when it comes to things that directly tie to a trigger or discomfort. we don’t mean it, we are incredibly sorry, it will happen again. choose calm and supportive responses to ease them back into a more clear mindset.

on the other side, if you are neurodivergent and think you’ve had certain aspects of yourself / past / traumas / triggers under control and have an intense, snap reaction - it is okay, you are not a bad person for losing yourself for a moment, and you will come back

[silverryuan]

Riddle Rosehearts with a Siren reader from Jibaro

A/N: "It's weird that I don't have writer's block... I actually have a lot of ideas in my head that I really want to write but due to classes I can't seem to find any time for my hobbies anymore."

Warning: Blood Consumption, Slight Angst

The Siren or The Golden Woman is a character from Netflix's animation series, "Love, Death, and The Robots". She's the love interest of the deaf soldier from the Jibaro episode, directed by Alberto Mielgo.

.

.

• Your and Riddle's friendship is rather complicated yet it cannot be called a mere acquaintance. Although you don't really talk much you use arm swaying movements to communicate with others, it's almost like some sort of dance or another version of sign language. Rook likes to decipher these actions of yours and Kalim likes to dance with you.

• However, that doesn't mean he tolerates how you let your numb skull friends break the rules in the Heartslabyul dorm. He sometimes wonders if Ace and Deuce became affected by your... tendencies to cause trouble and wreak havoc across the campus. But you only do that as self-defense, as Grim says on your behalf.

• But why in Twisted Wonderland would you randomly scream at people as a defense mechanism? ← Riddle thought as if he doesn't do that himself.

• Riddle never heard you talk but he has heard some rumors associated with your loud screaming. It seems like there's a record of many Savanaclaw beastmen who tried to gang up on you, suddenly did these unusual body movements in reaction to your screaming. As if they're in a trance trying to dance with you but failed miserably.

• The Faculty and Staff were called numerous times to break it up when the students started fighting themselves. When the students snap out of it they don't remember what happened. The only thing they described was hearing beautiful singing, which doesn't make sense...

• Is this your Unique Magic? It's a little similar to Ruggie's Laugh With Me with a mix of Jamil's Snake Whisper, albeit more violent. Because of those incidents, you'd been put into the avoid-at-all-costs pedestal in the student body.

.

.

• The first time he interacted with you was in the cafeteria. Back when he was, ahem, overly strict before his Overblot. He did not like how the collared fool named Ace described him and had second thoughts about removing his collar. Before he could scold Ace, you suddenly leaped onto the table and proceeded to stare at him while moving your head from side to side.

• That was also the moment where he first learned how instinctual you can be when you feel threatened. He yelped and backed away from you, not without uttering an excuse about another rule being violated. On that day, he thought that you were the same as Floyd. Weird and eccentric.

• Riddle wanted to collar you at that moment but he remembered that you had no magic, so he didn't. But by the Great Sevens, he was proven wrong. Deadly wrong. He had become one of the victims that had fallen to the extent of the severity your magic can go.

.

.

• Him Overblotting was far too unsightly of a dorm leader. He broke too many rules, hurt too many of his dormmates, nearly destroyed his dormitory, unaware that his own mother created a monster like him. He held on to his delusions of following every rule down to every detail of it, thinking it was the best for him. But no...

• He knew that it wasn't. He knew deep down that he was hurting others, his friend Trey, but he denied it because they broke the rules. So he punished them because he was right and that he should teach them not to break another rule.

• But what rule is suitable for this? His demented form? His Overblot rampant for control? Who is even right? What rule should he follow to make the pain stop? His mother didn't teach him this... Was what Trappola said was right?

• The thoughts and memories of his past worsened his condition and only made him more mad. He felt his head pounding too much. The black tears of ink wouldn't stop. He hadn't this felt vulnerable and helpless in a long time. It seems that the time he spent with his mother managed to numb the pain as well as his emotions.

• His vision turned dark as the blot consumed him. He cannot breathe. The monster was slowly killing him. Riddle in turn slowly embraces the void, embracing his final moments.

• Somebody... Anybody... Please... Save... Him.

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• ... But it was too late for him.

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"Everyone... Run... Ake... Cov....!"

• At least he get to hear Trey's voice one last time. His voice was panicked and muffled by the blot but nonetheless, Riddle wants to hear it.

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"Yuu! What... doing...?!.... Dangerous...!!"

• Was that your name? Trey is yelling at you. What were you doing?

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"GET BACK!"

• What?

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A̷̞̖̤̩̰̭̼̹͇̘͇̫̭̠ͭͤ͑̈͐̽͛͗̂̆͊̾ͥ̄ͪ̑̎̈̆̀͢͡҉͟҉̶̷̷̨̡̛̀͘̕̕͘͟͟͟͞͠͡A̷̍̓̋̂͘͠͝A̷̶̗͍̺̱͎̠͓̙̖̞̱͇̩͈̒͆ͨͬ̎̌͒͑̓̊͒̈̑̇ͪ͂͝ͅ͏̡̧͜͟͟͢͞͠͝҉́̀͠͠A̳̬͉̫̥̤̩̰̺̯͍͉̪͈̭̜̮̣̣ͬͨ̅̈́ͣͬ͌ͦ̚҉̸̵̡̧̧A̲̫̤̫̥̟͚͕̞̦̣̭̦̞͍̣̮͉̺̮͛ͭ̽ͣͬ̓ͧ̀̐̅ͅͅͅA̵̷̶̧̪͇͈̖̖͔̺̙̦͆̇́̆̏̋̓ͥ̍̓͌͆͂͗̄ͪͯ̚҉̡̡͏̸̶̶̛̕͢͡A̵̷̧̡̛̦̭̰̟͇̯̱͙͇̣̖̩̻̞͙̰̪̱̫͔ͮ͂ͧ̉͋̎ͨ̃ͥ͋̈̀́̕͝҉͡҉̴͠҉̸̡̡̡̀͜͡͝A̷͈̭̠̗͍̹̠̙̗͙͕͎͍̘̥̥̜̹͚̺͚̍ͪ̾̎̔̔ͪ̉ͣͣ̾̊͗̇́ͣ̍̆͐͋͟͠ͅͅ҉̶̛́̕͟͟͢͡À͍̹͉̟̞̼̰͈̻̱̞̥̰͊͒̃̈̓́̿͐ͯ̑͑̍͂ͬ̇ͪ̀̆̚͡ͅͅǍ͚̮͈̰̤͍̹̖͚̮̤͉ͥͬ̏̒̈͌̒̅͆͊̌ͥ͒̔ͮ̂́̀͢͟͟͝҉̧̛̕A̦͎̫͊̈́̌̄̅̓ͦ͂ͬ̔̓̅̍̂ͯ̈́ͭ͂̓͝A̶̷̴̷̸̢̧̡̡̨̡̛̗̖̥͉̰̞̫͉̦̮̦̹̗̗̭̒̋̕͘͘͜͜͟͢͢͞͏̶̕͏͏A̪͍̗͈̤͔̗̠͉̯̮͍̬̪͓̭͕̱̫̞ͮ̓ͦͪ̄͛̄̎ͮͫ͌̽ͧ̈̓ͧ̽̃̽ͮ̐ͭͅͅ

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• What was that? What is that sound?

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A̷̞̖̤̩̰̭̼̹͇̘͇̫̭̠ͭͤ͑̈͐̽͛͗̂̆͊̾ͥ̄ͪ̑̎̈̆̀͢͡҉͟҉̶̷̷̨̡̛̀͘̕̕͘͟͟͟͞͠͡A̷̍̓̋̂͘͠͝A̷̶̗͍̺̱͎̠͓̙̖̞̱͇̩͈̒͆ͨͬ̎̌͒͑̓̊͒̈̑̇ͪ͂͝ͅ͏̡̧͜͟͟͢͞͠͝҉́̀͠͠A̳̬͉̫̥̤̩̰̺̯͍͉̪͈̭̜̮̣̣ͬͨ̅̈́ͣͬ͌ͦ̚҉̸̵̡̧̧A̲̫̤̫̥̟͚͕̞̦͛ͭ̽ͣͬ̓ͧ̀̐̅ͅͅͅA̵̷̶̧̪͇͈̖̖͔̺̙̦͆̇́̆̏̋̓ͥ̍̓͌͆͂͗̄ͪͯ̚҉̡̡͏̸̶̶̛̕͢͡A̵̷̧̡̛̦̭̰̟͇̯̱͙͇̣̖̩̻̞͙̰̪̱̫͔ͮ͂ͧ̉͋̎ͨ̃ͥ͋̈̀́̕͝҉͡҉̴͠҉̸̡̡̡̀͜͡͝A͈̭̠̗͍̹̠̙̗͙͕͎͍̘̥̍ͪ̾̎̔̔ͪ̉ͣͣ̾̊͗̇́ͣ̍̆͐͋ͅÀ͊͒̃̈̓́̿͐ͯ̑͑̍͂ͬ̚Ǎ͚̮͈̰̤͍̹̖ͥͬ̏̒̈͌̒̅͆͊̌ͥ͒̔ͮ̂A̦͎̫͊̈́̌̄̅̓ͦ͂ͬ̔̓̅̍̂ͯ̈́ͭ͂̓͝A̶̷̴̷̸̢̧̡̡̨̡̛̗̖̥͉̰̞̫͉̦̮̦̹̗̗̭̒̋̕͘͘͜͜͟͢͢͞͏̶̕͏͏A̪͍̗͈̤͔̗̠͉̯̮ͮ̓ͦͪ̄͛̄̎ͮͫ͌̽ͧ̈̓ͧ̽̃̽ͮ̐ͭͅȦ̲̟̭̪̺̜̻̞̹̯͕̱͋ͥͤͩͦ͊̀̕͏̧A̢̠̻̠̩̜̥̩͙̺̓ͤ̾̓ͥ̏͛̅̔̉ͥ̾ͭ̌͋ͦͤ̇͐ͭ̆̚A̗͈̜̱̞̞͓̹͓̩̼̓ͤ̑À̶̷̵̴̧̢̛̜̯̩͕̟̟̞͈̒̅̇̀̇̔ͭ̔̄̄͆͑ͥ̂̃̉́͘̕͟͞͞͞ͅ҉̷̨̨̛̀͘͠͞Ȃ̮͈̝͈̩͈͚͙̭̙̪̦̺͚̾͆͆́̃͋͂͆͐͆ͭ̋̓Å̵̷̡̼͖͕̪̱̠͓̼̪̜̕̕͢͏͏̷͝A̜̘̺̭ͩ̃̅̀͐͋ͤ͐ͪ̅ͣͬ̌̊̐̽̆̃͒̿͛̿̌̉̀ͫ̉À̷̴̸̢̛͚̲͉̠̞̺̭̘̐ͬͥ́͗̏̊̆̾̒̒ͥͭ̽̋̓̑̀̀͘͞͞͝͡Ą̴̷̢̢̨̧̛͇͖͓̟̪͗̓͑̂́́̀̚͘͢͜҉

• It's coming closer...!

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A̷̞̖̤̩̰̭̼̹͇̘͇̫̭̠ͭͤ͑̈͐̽͛͗̂̆͊̾ͥ̄ͪ̑̎̈̆̀͢͡҉͟҉̶̷̷̨̡̛̀͘̕̕͘͟͟͟͞͠͡A̷̍̓̋̂͘͠͝A̷̶̗͍̺̱͎̠͓̙̖̞̱͇̩͈̒͆ͨͬ̎̌͒͑̓̊͒̈̑̇ͪ͂͝ͅ͏̡̧͜͟͟͢͞͠͝҉́̀͠͠A̳̬͉̫̥̤̩̰̺̯͍͉̪͈̭̜̮̣̣ͬͨ̅̈́ͣͬ͌ͦ̚҉̸̵̡̧̧A̲̫̤̫̥̟͚͕̞̦̣̭̦̞͍̣̮͉̺̮͛ͭ̽ͣͬ̓ͧ̀̐̅ͅͅͅA̵̷̶̧̪͇͈̖̖͔̺̙̦͆̇́̆̏̋̓ͥ̍̓͌͆͂͗̄ͪͯ̚҉̡̡͏̸̶̶̛̕͢͡A̵̷̧̡̛̦̭̰̟͇̯̱͙͇̣̖̩̻̞͙̰̪̱̫͔ͮ͂ͧ̉͋̎ͨ̃ͥ͋̈̀́̕͝҉͡҉̴͠҉̸̡̡̡̀͜͡͝A̷͈̭̠̗͍̹̠̙̗͙͕͎͍̘̥̥̜̹͚̺͚̍ͪ̾̎̔̔ͪ̉ͣͣ̾̊͗̇́ͣ̍̆͐͋͟͠ͅͅ҉̶̛́̕͟͟͢͡À͍̹͉̟̞̼̰͈̻̱̞̥̰͊͒̃̈̓́̿͐ͯ̑͑̍͂ͬ̇ͪ̀̆̚͡ͅͅǍ͚̮͈̰̤͍̹̖͚̮̤͉ͥͬ̏̒̈͌̒̅͆͊̌ͥ͒̔ͮ̂́̀͢͟͟͝҉̧̛̕A̦͎̫͊̈́̌̄̅̓ͦ͂ͬ̔̓̅̍̂ͯ̈́ͭ͂̓͝A̶̷̴̷̸̢̧̡̡̨̡̛̗̖̥͉̰̞̫͉̦̮̦̹̗̗̭̒̋̕͘͘͜͜͟͢͢͞͏̶̕͏͏A̛̪͍̗͈̤͔̗̠͉̯̮͍̬̪͓̭͕̱̫̞͍̺̗ͮ̓ͦͪ̄͛̄̎ͮͫ͌̽ͧ̈̓ͧ̽̃̽ͮ̐ͭ̕͜͟͜͠͝ͅͅ҉̶̴̧̨̀͟͜Ȧ̲̟̭̪̺̜̻̞̹̯͕̱͋ͥͤͩͦ͊̀̕͏̧A̢̠̻̠̩̜̥̩͙̺̓ͤ̾̓ͥ̏͛̅̔̉ͥ̾ͭ̌͋ͦͤ̇͐ͭ̆̚Ą̵̵̸̨̛̗͈̜̱̞̞͓̹͓̩̼̪̙̯̹̠̜̩͙̙͕͈͔̮̓ͤ̑̕͢͜͟͞͏̨̡͢͢͢À̶̷̵̴̧̢̛̜̯̩͕̟̟̞͈̒̅̇̀̇̔ͭ̔̄̄͆͑ͥ̂̃̉́͘̕͟͞͞͞ͅ҉̷̨̨̛̀͘͠͞Ȃ̮͈̝͈̩͈͚͙̭̙̪̦̺͚̾͆͆́̃͋͂͆͐͆ͭ̋̓Å̵̷̡̼͖͕̪̱̠͓̼̪̜̕̕͢͏͏̷͝A̜̘̺̭̰̤̱̲ͩ̃̅̀͐͋ͤ͐ͪ̅ͣͬ̌̊̐̽̆̃͒̿͛̿̌̉̀ͫ̉̀̀͘͟͟͢҉̴̸̨͜͠͡À̷̴̸̢̛͚̲͉̠̞̺̭̘̐ͬͥ́͗̏̊̆̾̒̒ͥͭ̽̋̓̑̀̀͘͞͞͝͡Ą̴̷̢̢̨̧̛͇͖͓̟̪͗̓͑̂́́̀̚͘͢͜҉̷̛̀̀͘͜͠͝͡͡A̢̹̥̬̖̘̘͓̥̮͕͋̐͆͌͑͋́ͬ͆ͫͪ̅̔́̊̋͆ͧ̈́ͧ̆ͯ͌̄̆́͟͝ͅ͏͝Ą̸̴̸̧̨̡̫̫̠̳͉͓̦͓̘̯̳͖̣͎̲͕̟̠̔̃̽́ͪ̔ͮ̅ͩ̎̔͂̉̇͒ͬ̏́̀̕͢͟͞͝͞͠ͅÀ̧̡̛̛̩̻̫͚̞̹̱̙̝̩̘̩̟̠̥̐̈́̾͊ͨ͊͢͜͡͏̶̵̷̴̴̵̧̨̨̕͜͢͏́Ȃ͇͉̣͎̇ͬ̾̇ͦͮ͂̈́̾͗̓̍̂̈ͦ͜͡͠҉̷̴̢̢̛͜͡͝҉Ą̶̴̸̨̧̛͉̠̦̤͔͓̯̠͎̩͉͐̄ͭ̎ͮ͊̌̓́̅̎̇ͦ͐̇҉̵̵̨̧͘͘͏̴̴̵̵̡̧Ã̷͚̗̞̗͎͎̳̑̆́̅ͭ̌̑̌̓̈ͯ͌ͤ͗ͭ̀͒͛ͮͮͩ̚͘҉̶̡̡̛̛͘͘͘͟͞҉̴̸̷̷̢̛́͘̕͟͢͡͠Ả̦̞̠̳̱̙̠̺̿̓ͯ͆͂̈̀ͯ͝͏̨̀͘͟͟͟͠͏̴̧̢̨͘͘͘̕͜͜͞͠͡͏̴Ȁ͖̲̩̤͇̞͇͚̞̭͈̤̱̞̖͂̿͒̓ͩ͆̀̾̏ͣ̀̒͂͑̈́̿̿ͪ͐͐̃̆ͮͯ͊ͅ͏̴̛̀́͟A̹̱̩̯͖̳̤̼͍͔̞̬̘̖̥̫͍̦͎̺͕̭̰̤͛ͨ̆ͤ͋̇̄͌̆̽ͥͪ̓̄ͥ̅̒̕ͅ҉A̴̴̶̸̶̶̡̦̣͈̯̤̖̯̣͙̖̪̫͕͕̲̼͍͍̪͎̲̩͜͟͝ͅ͏́Ā̶̸̵̸̢̛̬͇̫̺̜̖̫͉̫̟̹̳̥̪ͫͭ̓ͤ͑̎͐̐͆͆̇͌͊͊̽̄̏͗́̂͘͢͢͢͜͟͠͝͞҉̴̛͏̵̸̧́͘A̸̛͕̭̫̜̳̲͍͈̪͍̫͓̞͓̠͈ͦ͊͐̽͆͊̿̍̽ͥͮ̈́ͬ̈ͯ̈́̎͑͒ͫ̀̅̅͝ͅĄ̴̴̵̴̡̦̪͕̭͕͚͚̝͉̝̻̙͓̤͚̩̫̯̥̞͔̗̑̽͑́̔̂͌̓̽ͤ̀̈ͨ̈́̔̉͋̏̍ͫ̈́̆ͭ͆̎́͢͠͠҉̷̷̧҉̀Ă͖̥̘̺͖̭͙̗̗̰͔̹̱͚͓̣̺̥̳͇͍̏̐̈ͥ̀ͤ͂̎ͨ̀̓̆̌͠͏͘͟͡҉͏͏̴̶̡͠͏̧̧̛́̀͘͟͞͞͡͠͠҉A̛̛͖͙̠̭̼̟̱̘̤̬͙̦͓͉̖͉ͫ̀̐̈́̍̒͒ͣͮ̌ͨͨ̒͗̽̋ͧͯͤ̚̚̚͘͜͜͟͡͝ͅͅA̷̛̘̰͍͉͔̥̹͚͖̮͇̦̻̪͚̪̮̗͚̳̮̫͚̜͌̈͗ͭ̎̅ͨͫ̆ͯͦͦ̿̈́̈́ͩ͊̐ͮ̆ͩ͑ͨA̵͈̼͇̠̩̤̱̮̳̠̝͕͛ͧͩ̃̅̈̍̾͊́̈́̌̀ͦͩͦͨ̋ͦ̌̃̅͏̵͢҉̶̡̛́̀͠͏͏͏͏͝A̸͎̤̞̝͕̗͕̣̣̼̫̻̾̓ͮͬ̄ͨͣ͆̀͢͏҉͜͜҉̸̕A̶̶̸̡̧̨̧̹̪̬̩͖͖͈̭͔̯ͥͬͩ͗̒̌̾ͣ̑́́́͘͘̕̕͘͟͜͟͟͝͡͠͡͝͡͝ͅÁ̵̡̫̭̩̙͎̺̞̝̹̥̝̤̯͖̆̈́̉̈́̊͊͑ͮ̀́̚͘͘͜͢͞͠͏̀͏͏҉̸̡̀A̛̰͓̬̙̮̖̫̤̙͍̤̘͚͕̱̬̱̝̗̪͖̲̅ͨͣ̀̓̎̎̿̊̑̌̓͒ͮ͜͠҉̶̛͢͏̶̴̸̨̡̀̀͘͝͞Â̱͈̬̘̥̟͕̘̘͙̺͉͍͕͇͖̄͋ͩ́ͦ̓̌̊ͦ͐̂͛̈̽́͟͝͏̶̷̸̸̵̵̨̧̢́́̀͘͘͘͟͜͟͜͡͡͝Ą̷̧̜̮̲̟̥͎͕͉̖͉͖̩͈̮̺̂͘͢͝͠͞͠͏͞Ạ̴̶̢̠͎͖̥̙͙̱̼̯̻́̐̑̽̈́͆̊̂ͫͬͤͯͨ̾̔̑̈ͩ͛ͣ̎̏̆̏ͯ̓̊͘͟͜͠͞͝͏̧̛́̕͟͜͡Ą̸̷̷̴̡̛̪͙̻͇̬̲͖̪͖̅̌̓̆͊ͨ̏̿̓͆͑̄̍ͦ̊ͮ̇͋̏͌̾̑̾̈̍ͧ͜͟͞͞͡͡͠͞ͅA̬̭͉͙͓͖͇̰͇͍̾͂̄ͯ̔̉̿ͮ̍͆ͮͨ̚A̸̵̡̢̠̞̳͓̦̹ͬ̊ͭ͆͗͂ͮ͊͘͘͡͝͠ͅ҉̵̶̵̴̡̢̧͟͜͡͠͠͝҉̸҉A̶̶̧͈̝̞̻̺̙̭ͫ̐̀͘̕͘̕͟͝҉҉͢Ạ̷̧̡̛̛̓́͟͜͠͝͝͝Ǎ̷̡̢̛͔̠̭̙̣̖͎̬͈̥́ͬ̋͂͂ͤ͋ͧ͑ͩ̂̽ͯͮ̒̅ͪ̀̊̒̎ͩͨ̈́̈͌͢͝͞͠ͅÂ̸̧̪ͮ̋͌̎̉͋ͨ͑̊̎ͩ̈́̎͒̀͜͝҉̸͜͞͡A̴̧̧̢̢̨̘̠̹̱̻̤͖̫̯̞̬͖̗̠͚̳̲͓̪̿̍ͨͦ͛̓̍͊̀͊͗́ͣ̚͡͞͏͢҉̷̸͘͏Ą̴̸̵̴̛̻͓̯̞͇̻͢͟͠͡҉̵҉̶̴̡̛̕͘͜͜͜͡͠Ą̵̹̮̭͉̦̺͔̆͟͝͡͡͞Ą̴̷̡̨̨̧̨̰͔̱̻̺͓͇̩̝̺̣͉̦̗̳͆̀ͦ̆ͧ͛ͨ͆ͯ̅ͫ̽̊̄̅̓ͬͦͣ̍ͪ̋̎̚͘͘͘͢͟͡͝͞A̢ͯ̍͑͐̎̆̅͛̅͒̉̒͋ͣͤ̅͂̆̐ͨͭͤ̐ͣ̚҉̀͏̶̷̸̸̵̨̢̧̢̡̡̛̛́͘͢͠͡͞͝͠͝A̘̱̪͎̟̯̪̔͗̄ͫ̋ͧ͌̄͊͛̈́ͫ̍͆ͬ͛ͤͧ҉̶́҉̸̴̨̢̡́́͢͟͡͝A̷̶̴̵̡̛̘̩̙̯̜̩̦̟̱̼̤͉̭̲̟̹͇̯̗̱̘̲̔ͥ̌̅̒̽́̀́͘͢͜͜͞͠͏̵̡́̀͢͞҉̨͏̧͟

• Riddle cradled his head as a piercing shriek breaks the sound barrier, the void around him started falling apart from the shockwaves.

• It sounds awful... Like a thousand banshees shouting and crying inside his head...

• How it painfully reminded him of his mother yelling at him!

• How it sounded like her voice multiplied in every direction surrounding him and started screaming at him...!

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• But it stopped. Everything went silent...

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• The cries of the damned were replaced by beautiful melodic singing...

• ... It was hypnotizing him.

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"Riddle! Snap out of it!"

"Rosehearts! Stop this madness!"

"Riddle, please, can you hear us?"

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• Outside from Riddle's caged mind, his Overblot form and monster were in a spiral, desperately fighting back to whatever magic you've casted upon him. The more you screamed, the more Riddle suffered.

• Thank the Sevens Crowley managed to make himself useful and evacuated the rest of the students. Otherwise they'd fall under your magic's attack range too. Trey and Cater made a good call summoning magic shields around themselves before you attacked.

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• Riddle, who is now covered in ink from head to toe, is thrashing and destroying everything that comes near him. His Blot monster kept bashing its head on the ground. You were unfazed by his sudden change of aggressiveness and screamed louder.

• Even if he threw projectiles at you, your shrieks' shockwaves would deflect it with strong gusts of wind. Cracks began to appear on the monster's glass head.

"W-what's happening to him...?"

"He's weakened by Henchman's Unique Magic!"

"Eh?! You mean Siren! Yuu's Unique Magic is enough to make him like this?!"

"Focus, Deuce!"

"R-right, sorry!"

"Time to end this, guys... Split Card!"

"He's almost down. Cover us, Yuu! Doodle Suit!"

"I summon forth... Cauldron!"

"Fnyaaaagh!"

A̷̞̖̤̩̰̭̼̹͇̘͇̫̭̠ͭͤ͑̈͐̽͛͗̂̆͊̾ͥ̄ͪ̑̎̈̆̀͢͡҉͟҉̶̷̷̨̡̛̀͘̕̕͘͟͟͟͞͠͡A̷̍̓̋̂͘͠͝A̷̶̗͍̺̱͎̠͓̙̖̞̱͇̩͈̒͆ͨͬ̎̌͒͑̓̊͒̈̑̇ͪ͂͝ͅ͏̡̧͜͟͟͢͞͠͝҉́̀͠͠A̳̬͉̫̥̤̩̰̺̯͍͉̪͈̭̜̮̣̣ͬͨ̅̈́ͣͬ͌ͦ̚҉̸̵̡̧̧A̲̫̤̫̥̟͚͕̞̦̣̭̦̞͍̣̮͉̺̮͛ͭ̽ͣͬ̓ͧ̀̐̅ͅͅͅA̵̷̶̧̪͇͈̖̖͔̺̙̦͆̇́̆̏̋̓ͥ̍̓͌͆͂͗̄ͪͯ̚҉̡̡͏̸̶̶̛̕͢͡A̵̷̧̡̛̦̭̰̟͇̯̱͙͇̣̖̩̻̞͙̰̪̱̫͔ͮ͂ͧ̉͋̎ͨ̃ͥ͋̈̀́̕͝҉͡҉̴͠҉̸̡̡̡̀͜͡͝A̷͈̭̠̗͍̹̠̙̗͙͕͎͍̘̥̥̜̹͚̺͚̍ͪ̾̎̔̔ͪ̉ͣͣ̾̊͗̇́ͣ̍̆͐͋͟͠ͅͅ҉̶̛́̕͟͟͢͡À͍̹͉̟̞̼̰͈̻̱̞̥̰͊͒̃̈̓́̿͐ͯ̑͑̍͂ͬ̇ͪ̀̆̚͡ͅͅǍ͚̮͈̰̤͍̹̖͚̮̤͉ͥͬ̏̒̈͌̒̅͆͊̌ͥ͒̔ͮ̂́̀͢͟͟͝҉̧̛̕A̦͎̫͊̈́̌̄̅̓ͦ͂ͬ̔̓̅̍̂ͯ̈́ͭ͂̓͝A̶̷̴̷̸̢̧̡̡̨̡̛̗̖̥͉̰̞̫͉̦̮̦̹̗̗̭̒̋̕͘͘͜͜͟͢͢͞͏̶̕͏͏A̛̪͍̗͈̤͔̗̠͉̯̮͍̬̪͓̭͕̱̫̞͍̺̗ͮ̓ͦͪ̄͛̄̎ͮͫ͌̽ͧ̈̓ͧ̽̃̽ͮ̐ͭ̕͜͟͜͠͝ͅͅ҉̶̴̧̨̀͟͜Ȧ̲̟̭̪̺̜̻̞̹̯͕̱͋ͥͤͩͦ͊̀̕͏̧A̢̠̻̠̩̜̥̩͙̺̓ͤ̾̓ͥ̏͛̅̔̉ͥ̾ͭ̌͋ͦͤ̇͐ͭ̆̚Ą̵̵̸̨̛̗͈̜̱̞̞͓̹͓̩̼̪̙̯̹̠̜̩͙̙͕͈͔̮̓ͤ̑̕͢͜͟͞͏̨̡͢͢͢À̶̷̵̴̧̢̛̜̯̩͕̟̟̞͈̒̅̇̀̇̔ͭ̔̄̄͆͑ͥ̂̃̉́͘̕͟͞͞͞ͅ҉̷̨̨̛̀͘͠͞Ȃ̮͈̝͈̩͈͚͙̭̙̪̦̺͚̾͆͆́̃͋͂͆͐͆ͭ̋̓Å̵̷̡̼͖͕̪̱̠͓̼̪̜̕̕͢͏͏̷͝A̜̘̺̭̰̤̱̲ͩ̃̅̀͐͋ͤ͐ͪ̅ͣͬ̌̊̐̽̆̃͒̿͛̿̌̉̀ͫ̉̀̀͘͟͟͢҉̴̸̨͜͠͡À̷̴̸̢̛͚̲͉̠̞̺̭̘̐ͬͥ́͗̏̊̆̾̒̒ͥͭ̽̋̓̑̀̀͘͞͞͝͡Ą̴̷̢̢̨̧̛͇͖͓̟̪͗̓͑̂́́̀̚͘͢͜҉̷̛̀̀͘͜͠͝͡͡A̢̹̥̬̖̘̘͓̥̮͕͋̐͆͌͑͋́ͬ͆ͫͪ̅̔́̊̋͆ͧ̈́ͧ̆ͯ͌̄̆́͟͝ͅ͏͝Ą̸̴̸̧̨̡̫̫̠̳͉͓̦͓̘̯̳͖̣͎̲͕̟̠̔̃̽́ͪ̔ͮ̅ͩ̎̔͂̉̇͒ͬ̏́̀̕͢͟͞͝͞͠ͅÀ̧̡̛̛̩̻̫͚̞̹̱̙̝̩̘̩̟̠̥̐̈́̾͊ͨ͊͢͜͡͏̶̵̷̴̴̵̧̨̨̕͜͢͏́Ȃ͇͉̣͎̇ͬ̾̇ͦͮ͂̈́̾͗̓̍̂̈ͦ͜͡͠҉̷̴̢̢̛͜͡͝҉Ą̶̴̸̨̧̛͉̠̦̤͔͓̯̠͎̩͉͐̄ͭ̎ͮ͊̌̓́̅̎̇ͦ͐̇҉̵̵̨̧͘͘͏̴̴̵̵̡̧Ã̷͚̗̞̗͎͎̳̑̆́̅ͭ̌̑̌̓̈ͯ͌ͤ͗ͭ̀͒͛ͮͮͩ̚͘҉̶̡̡̛̛͘͘͘͟͞҉̴̸̷̷̢̛́͘̕͟͢͡͠Ả̦̞̠̳̱̙̠̺̿̓ͯ͆͂̈̀ͯ͝͏̨̀͘͟͟͟͠͏̴̧̢̨͘͘͘̕͜͜͞͠͡͏̴Ȁ͖̲̩̤͇̞͇͚̞̭͈̤̱̞̖͂̿͒̓ͩ͆̀̾̏ͣ̀̒͂͑̈́̿̿ͪ͐͐̃̆ͮͯ͊ͅ͏̴̛̀́͟A̹̱̩̯͖̳̤̼͍͔̞̬̘̖̥̫͍̦͎̺͕̭̰̤͛ͨ̆ͤ͋̇̄͌̆̽ͥͪ̓̄ͥ̅̒̕ͅ҉A̴̴̶̸̶̶̡̦̣͈̯̤̖̯̣͙̖̪̫͕͕̲̼͍͍̪͎̲̩͜͟͝ͅ͏́Ā̶̸̵̸̢̛̬͇̫̺̜̖̫͉̫̟̹̳̥̪ͫͭ̓ͤ͑̎͐̐͆͆̇͌͊͊̽̄̏͗́̂͘͢͢͢͜͟͠͝͞҉̴̛͏̵̸̧́͘A̸̛͕̭̫̜̳̲͍͈̪͍̫͓̞͓̠͈ͦ͊͐̽͆͊̿̍̽ͥͮ̈́ͬ̈ͯ̈́̎͑͒ͫ̀̅̅͝ͅĄ̴̴̵̴̡̦̪͕̭͕͚͚̝͉̝̻̙͓̤͚̩̫̯̥̞͔̗̑̽͑́̔̂͌̓̽ͤ̀̈ͨ̈́̔̉͋̏̍ͫ̈́̆ͭ͆̎́͢͠͠҉̷̷̧҉̀Ă͖̥̘̺͖̭͙̗̗̰͔̹̱͚͓̣̺̥̳͇͍̏̐̈ͥ̀ͤ͂̎ͨ̀̓̆̌͠͏͘͟͡҉͏͏̴̶̡͠͏̧̧̛́̀͘͟͞͞͡͠͠҉A̛̛͖͙̠̭̼̟̱̘̤̬͙̦͓͉̖͉ͫ̀̐̈́̍̒͒ͣͮ̌ͨͨ̒͗̽̋ͧͯͤ̚̚̚͘͜͜͟͡͝ͅͅA̷̛̘̰͍͉͔̥̹͚͖̮͇̦̻̪͚̪̮̗͚̳̮̫͚̜͌̈͗ͭ̎̅ͨͫ̆ͯͦͦ̿̈́̈́ͩ͊̐ͮ̆ͩ͑ͨA̵͈̼͇̠̩̤̱̮̳̠̝͕͛ͧͩ̃̅̈̍̾͊́̈́̌̀ͦͩͦͨ̋ͦ̌̃̅͏̵͢҉̶̡̛́̀͠͏͏͏͏͝A̸͎̤̞̝͕̗͕̣̣̼̫̻̾̓ͮͬ̄ͨͣ͆̀͢͏҉͜͜҉̸̕A̶̶̸̡̧̨̧̹̪̬̩͖͖͈̭͔̯ͥͬͩ͗̒̌̾ͣ̑́́́͘͘̕̕͘͟͜͟͟͝͡͠͡͝͡͝ͅÁ̵̡̫̭̩̙͎̺̞̝̹̥̝̤̯͖̆̈́̉̈́̊͊͑ͮ̀́̚͘͘͜͢͞͠͏̀͏͏҉̸̡̀A̛̰͓̬̙̮̖̫̤̙͍̤̘͚͕̱̬̱̝̗̪͖̲̅ͨͣ̀̓̎̎̿̊̑̌̓͒ͮ͜͠҉̶̛͢͏̶̴̸̨̡̀̀͘͝͞Â̱͈̬̘̥̟͕̘̘͙̺͉͍͕͇͖̄͋ͩ́ͦ̓̌̊ͦ͐̂͛̈̽́͟͝͏̶̷̸̸̵̵̨̧̢́́̀͘͘͘͟͜͟͜͡͡͝Ą̷̧̜̮̲̟̥͎͕͉̖͉͖̩͈̮̺̂͘͢͝͠͞͠͏͞Ạ̴̶̢̠͎͖̥̙͙̱̼̯̻́̐̑̽̈́͆̊̂ͫͬͤͯͨ̾̔̑̈ͩ͛ͣ̎̏̆̏ͯ̓̊͘͟͜͠͞͝͏̧̛́̕͟͜͡Ą̸̷̷̴̡̛̪͙̻͇̬̲͖̪͖̅̌̓̆͊ͨ̏̿̓͆͑̄̍ͦ̊ͮ̇͋̏͌̾̑̾̈̍ͧ͜͟͞͞͡͡͠͞ͅA̬̭͉͙͓͖͇̰͇͍̾͂̄ͯ̔̉̿ͮ̍͆ͮͨ̚A̸̵̡̢̠̞̳͓̦̹ͬ̊ͭ͆͗͂ͮ͊͘͘͡͝͠ͅ҉̵̶̵̴̡̢̧͟͜͡͠͠͝҉̸҉A̶̶̧͈̝̞̻̺̙̭ͫ̐̀͘̕͘̕͟͝҉҉͢Ạ̷̧̡̛̛̓́͟͜͠͝͝͝Ǎ̷̡̢̛͔̠̭̙̣̖͎̬͈̥́ͬ̋͂͂ͤ͋ͧ͑ͩ̂̽ͯͮ̒̅ͪ̀̊̒̎ͩͨ̈́̈͌͢͝͞͠ͅÂ̸̧̪ͮ̋͌̎̉͋ͨ͑̊̎ͩ̈́̎͒̀͜͝҉̸͜͞͡A̴̧̧̢̢̨̘̠̹̱̻̤͖̫̯̞̬͖̗̠͚̳̲͓̪̿̍ͨͦ͛̓̍͊̀͊͗́ͣ̚͡͞͏͢҉̷̸͘͏Ą̴̸̵̴̛̻͓̯̞͇̻͢͟͠͡҉̵҉̶̴̡̛̕͘͜͜͜͡͠Ą̵̹̮̭͉̦̺͔̆͟͝͡͡͞Ą̴̷̡̨̨̧̨̰͔̱̻̺͓͇̩̝̺̣͉̦̗̳͆̀ͦ̆ͧ͛ͨ͆ͯ̅ͫ̽̊̄̅̓ͬͦͣ̍ͪ̋̎̚͘͘͘͢͟͡͝͞A̢ͯ̍͑͐̎̆̅͛̅͒̉̒͋ͣͤ̅͂̆̐ͨͭͤ̐ͣ̚҉̀͏̶̷̸̸̵̨̢̧̢̡̡̛̛́͘͢͠͡͞͝͠͝A̘̱̪͎̟̯̪̔͗̄ͫ̋ͧ͌̄͊͛̈́ͫ̍͆ͬ͛ͤͧ҉̶́҉̸̴̨̢̡́́͢͟͡͝A̷̶̴̵̡̛̘̩̙̯̜̩̦̟̱̼̤͉̭̲̟̹͇̯̗̱̘̲̔ͥ̌̅̒̽́̀́͘͢͜͜͞͠͏̵̡́̀͢͞҉̨͏̧͟

A̭̦̫ͧ̎͘͜A̍ͧA̴̞͇ͫ̈́ͫͧͥ̀ͅÄ̵̼̮́ͩ̍A͖͢G̨̛͔̜̦̮̪̐̉̇̊̀̀͠G̷̟͍̳̭ͪ̈ͪͦHͬ̏̽̾͂H͚̘͍̾̒̇H̸̗̩͍̘̓̈ͦ̍͛͞!̢̈̕!̵̧̬͝!̨̨͖̦̩̱͑ ̺̰̺͛͗̈̾̃҉҉͞Ḙ͎͖͍͇̊̂̇ͥN̯̯̤̮͔̐̈́ͤ̎Ǫ̴̤̥̻̦ͦͭ͊̚͜U͎͋̑̀Gͩ̕H̛҉!̺͕̄̒̑̃̀͠҉͢͞!̢̢͉̃ͥ̀͡!̠̱̟̹͟͞͏ ͍ͣ͏Ǫ̼̫̺ͭͬ̎F̖̰̞͎̆ͣ̄̅F̛̮̳̩͉̦ͪ͘͘ ̼͉̯͊̏̊̄W̲̪͙I̴͔͈̙͓͌͒͂́͘͢͞T̞͈̪͢H̡̧̹͚̪ ̛̟͍̘̭͟A̵̡̡̯̎̋́͘L̴͎̜̀Ļ̷͉̰̠̉͗ͅ ̸̙̙̣̤̦͒̏̿̕͜Ý̙̗̰ͥ̓͜͏̡̢͢O͇͚͖̩ͪͮ͑Ȕ̟̞͈͎̰̐̽ͪ̃͜͢͝͠R̷͞͝ ̘͎̒̑͊͞H̬ͯ̒̎́҉͏̨E̴̛͈͔̠Ẻ͓̦̘E̪̹ͣ͊͊͆͆Ȃ̶̢̛͖͚̹̙̄ͣ̄̉́A̛̝̤A̸̸̝̻̥̣ͣ̽͏Ą̡̘͢D̗̙̹̟̓̄̓̕͡S̴̥̟͎!͈̭͉̥͏̶̡̕͠!̢̢̠̜̌̒̾ͣ͆̕͟!̟̰̣ͤ҉

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{NRC – Infirmary}

• Riddle woke up in the school infirmary. He sat up with a ringing noise in his head. He tries to recall the things that happened but the headache prevented him from doing so. The boy was surprised by Trey, Cater, and the rest of the troublemakers appearing by his side. They looked relieved, tears welled up in Trey's eyes and he says something...

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• ... He can't hear him... Why can't he hear him? Is it because of the ringing? What is he saying?

"...Mnh?... Trey?... Cater?..."

"Riddle! You're okay! A-are you okay? Does your head hurt?"

"Dorm Leader Rosehearts! He's awake!"

"Ssshhhh! His head might still be ringing!"

"... H-huh?"

• Trey and Cater were right up beside him immediately, checking on him. The students behind them couldn't believe it but they were relieved to see him awake.

"Siren! Yuu's magic did quite a number on you, dorm leader... Maybe you should rest more-- Woah!"

"H-Hey, Riddle! Don't sit up yet, you just woke up. There, there, relax."

"Are you in any pain right now? You look a little pale..."

"I... I... Can't... You..."

• They're mouths were moving but no sounds came out no matter how hard Riddle strained his ears.

"What is it? Can you speak louder? What's wrong?"

"Trey.. I can't hear you."

"W-what?"

"I-i can't hear what you're saying, Trey. I can't hear all of you! I c-can't- I CAN'T HEAR ANYTHING!"

"Dorm Leader, calm down! Take deep breaths."

"It's alright, just look at us. Everything will be fine."

"He can't hear us?"

"His condition is worse than I thought. Did his Overblot perhaps took his ability to hear?"

"Everyone, please get out of the infirmary. He needs space."

• The students of Heartslabyul left the room but Ace, Deuce, Grim and you stayed behind. Riddle's hands cupped his tear stained face as his sobbing intensifies.

"We're so sorry, Riddle... Don't worry, the Infirmary Ghosts can help you. We'll be right here every second."

"Yeah, you'll get your hearing back in no time!"

"... I'm... sorry... I'm sorry..."

"E-eh?"

"I'm so sorry... *sob*.... *sob*... I've been so horrible to all of you.... *sob*...."

"Woah. Dorm Leader Riddle Rosehearts crying? Oh. My. Sevens."

"Cater."

"Sorry, Trey, it's just... I never see him cry his eyes out like this."

"... *sob*.... It's all my fault... it's my own fault...! ... *sob*... You were right... *sob*...!"

• Ace stepped closer to Riddle. The crying boy saw him and cried even harder.

"T-Trappola... I'm sorry... I did want that Mont Blanc tart! I really did... *sob*... I felt bad for tossing it away... But I had to follow the rules... *sob*... I'm so sorry...!"

• Riddle let out all of the pain, all of the guilt, all of the regret he bottled up throughout his life. Ace decided to forgive him for admitting his defeat but left his reasons of doing so for another day once Riddle is healed.

• Moments later, the Infirmary Ghosts appeared and checked on Riddle's vitals. Riddle finally stopped his crying, he still hopes to reconcile with Ace. He knows that his wrongdoings will not be forgiven... He does not deserve to be called a dorm leader if all he ever do is hurt his own dormmates.

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"He's healthy now and the blot is all gone. There's nothing clogging his ear canals, no bleeding. In fact, his ears look fine."

"We don't know why he lost his hearing. Maybe it's because of a concussion?"

"The students did give him a beating but that's unlikely."

• A few hours passed by. The Ghosts became puzzled and made Riddle recite the 810 rules to check for brain damage, using a notebook and pen to communicate. Riddle perfectly recalled all of the rules. The Ghosts then asked Riddle to recall his dormmates' and classmates' names as well as their appearances. Riddle remembered all of them correctly. This made the Ghosts even more puzzled.

"Looks like Yuu's magic worked too well on him."

"This was caused by magic? If so by whom?"

"Siren! Yuu's Unique Magic."

"My Henchman's Unique Magic makes them scream very loud. They can hypnotize people with it and make them go crazy."

"Really? That's some frightening magic you got there, kid..."

"Suppose that they've used it to make him deaf?"

"To cover us when we subdued him. Riddle looked like he was in great pain the whole time."

"Ah, I see."

"Well, every mage's magic gotta have some kind of loophole or weakness around it, right?"

• The Ghosts turned to ask you if there's a cure, to which you nodded yes. You took a scalpel and pierced it across your palm. Everyone was taken aback when droplets of your blood dripped on the floor but you ignored them and grabbed a teacup by Riddle's bedside. Your blood soon filled half of the cup and you gave it to Riddle.

• Riddle looked at you with shocked eyes and rejected the gesture. You insisted to lift the cup to the boy's mouth.

"W-w-what? What are you...?"

"I think Henchman wants Riddle to drink it."

"Huh?!

"What?!"

"B-but that's...!"

"I dunno! It's what my Henchman is doin'!"

"What the hell?! Don't you think it's... I don't know... Weird and gross?!"

"Hmm... If it's the only way then we don't see why not."

• The Ghosts wrote on the notebook, instructing Riddle to drink the blood. Riddle, who literally saw you cut your own skin, closed his eyes and hesitantly gulped it all down. Coughing as the metallic taste of the red liquid lingered on his tongue.

• You bandaged your bleeding palm and left the room with a theatrical bow. This moment became a core memory of the group's earliest impression of you.

"Fnyagh... I think they're tired from all that screaming. I'm gonna go rest with them. A fight like that surely made me sleepy. Hey, Henchman! Wait for the Great Grim!"

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• One day later, Riddle finally got back his hearing and the headache he had disappeared. He recovered with no complications. His dormmates' planned to throw an Unbirthday Party for him in his recovery. However, Riddle's guilt has not left his mind.

"Ace Trappola."

"Uh, yes?"

"I... heavily apologize for how I treated you... how I treated all of you with strict cruelty. I see now that not all can follow the rules like how I was raised to... And that I shouldn't enforce such rules and give harsh punishments because of one's trivial or small mistakes... From now on, I'll take time to reflect on my actions and the effects it has on others... From this day forward, I, Riddle Rosehearts, hereby back down as dorm leader of Heartslabyul--"

"Sorry, dorm leader but you can't."

"P-pardon?"

"The title of dorm leader sounds nice but I don't want the strings attached to it. No one can handle the responsibility like you can, no one puts more effort into the duty of the title like you do, no one is more suitable for a dorm leader like you are. Besides, I didn't ask you to a Mage's Duel to take your position. I want you to see how much of a heartless snob you were. You were at fault for mistreating your dormmates. Trey and Cater are also at fault for letting you mistreat them for a long time. That just isn't right."

"I'm sorry too for turning a blind eye all this time as vice dorm leader. I was too cowardly to face him."

"Me too. I should've looked out for you guys as your senior. Some friends we are, huh?..."

"But that's alright. I'm sure your dormmates can forgive you guys and give you a second chance."

"Y-You really think so?... Will they forgive me? After all I've done?"

"Of course, we forgive you, Riddle. As your friends, we're here to help you whenever you need."

"Yups! Totally vote for a second chance! Just don't overdo it next time and have some more mercy, dorm leader!"

"On behalf of the Heartslabyul dorm, we still want you as our dorm leader!"

"I... I-I'm...thank you, everyone... thank you all so mu--"

"BUT I STILL HAVEN'T FORGIVEN YOU!"

"E-eh?!"

"Ace!"

"NO, DON'T "ACE!" ME! AFTER ALL THE EFFORT WE PUT INTO THAT PERFECTLY GOOD MONT BLANC TART AND TOSSING IT OUT. IT'S NOT SOMETHING YOU CAN JUST CRY AND GET AWAY WITH IT!"

"What the hell's wrong with you!?"

"The poor guy's sorry isn't he?"

"Y-yes, I do feel terribly sorry for wasting the tart."

"WELL, IF YOU ARE SORRY AND YOU DO WANT TO EARN MY FORGIVENESS, AS A PUNISHMENT FROM ME, IT'S YOUR TURN TO MAKE THE TART!"

"Ace, stop talking!"

"No, he's right. I accept the punishment. I will make the tart."

"WITHOUT TREY'S HELP!"

"W-what?!"

"But Ace...! Isn't that a little...?"

"OH? IS IT TOO HARD FOR OUR DORM LEADER?"

"N-no! I can handle this. I'll do it by myself!"

"GOOD! NOW GET TO BAKING WHILE WE FIX UP THE PARTY!"

.

.

.

{Heartslabyul – Unbirthday Party}

• The rose bushes that were destroyed by blot were restored their original clean state. The branches that scattered the area were removed and more grass was planted to layer the bald ground. The light of the sun bounced off the shiny surface of the teapot and silver tableware. The ripped and tarnished table sheets were replaced by new white ones.

• Riddle seemed to have a hard time adjusting with his newfound leniency but he doesn't act like he has a stick up his behind anymore and is now more calm.

"Alright, let's see... The table sheets are white, tableware is at place, acceptable weather, it's nobody's birthday today... Is the mouse asleep inside the teapot? Actually, nevermind. It does not matter anymore."

"Hey there, Riddle. You don't have to be too lenient now. Take it easy."

"I second that, we wouldn't be able to recognize you without your habits of being prim and proper."

"Forgive me, it's just... I've never done this before... breaking a ru-- well... excluding ones for this occasion."

"Don't you worry your head about that, dorm leader! You'll get used to it. It's not so bad."

.

.

• As the three chatted, Ace approached them smugly, however, the sweat evident on his forehead from the work of cleaning up the dorm lessened the effectiveness of his smugness.

"So, you have the tart ready, dorm leader?"

"Ah yes, I have it prepared. And I wasn't assisted by Trey and followed the instructions for making it exactly the way down to every detail."

"What flavor is it?"

"Cherry."

"Did you remember to put enough chestnuts? Like, a ton of them?"

"Yes, I did. Just because I want to correct my faults does not mean you have the right to boss me around. I'm still your dorm leader."

"We'll see about that. Now you know what it's like to be in our place."

"Dorm Leader, Ace!"

"Spade. Are the flamingoes and hedgehogs ready?"

"Yes! I've also invited Grim and Siren! Yuu like you requested."

"That's good, thank you."

• Speaking of which, Riddle felt absolutely guilty about the insults he hurled at you during the previous Unbirthday Party. You looked uneasy when he aggressively pointed out your appearance. He guessed that he deserved to get screamed at by you. It's a better punishment than his mother's verbal abuse.

"Heya! We're here! Where's the food?"

"Sigh, Grim..."

"What? I'm hungry! Let's get this party started! Hey, Henchman, wanna dance later after eating?"

"☺️!"

• You nodded with a smile, it faltered when you faced Riddle. You simply stared at him like you're expecting him to do something. Luckily, the short boy find this awkward encounter as a good moment to apologize to you. He tells you to come with him to the Rose Maze.

.

.

{Heartslabyul – Rose Maze}

"Hello again...Siren! Yuu, was it?.... I want to speak with you for a moment... In private."

• Riddle sends the eavesdropping three a stern look, putting emphasis on the word private, and they read it as a signal to shoo, but they didn't. Instead, Ace, Deuce, and Grim proceeded to watch in silence at a corner, peeking at a nervous Riddle struggling to form words while under your laser-focused gaze.

"........"

"I-it's not about rule violation. It is just for a dorm leader to invite guests to get acquainted with them... Yes, it's to establish a... Well..."

".....😶?"

• Your gaze softened and your head tilted to the side, like you're both questioning and urging him to state his reasons more clearly. Riddle decided to not speak like a dorm leader but as a person who's grateful for your efforts.

"Oh, forget it. Siren! Yuu... I cannot apologize for the insults I've thrown at you... how I called you a magicless human who lacks discipline and manners... and I cannot thank you enough for saving me even after all that... But..."

"........."

"I do feel sorry, I do... I feel so ashamed of myself... Please give me a chance. A chance to give a new impression. A chance to make things right... This Unbirthday Party is now a welcoming gift and an offering of gratitude for saving me. Please, accept this apology."

"......."

"... And... I'm sorry about the Mont Blanc tart... I won't waste food for a trivial rule like that ever again."

• Your smile returned to your face and you bowed. The eavesdroppers took that as a positive sign to wait at the table for you.

"... 🙂‍↕️."

"Y-You... you forgive me?... Thank you... Thank you so much... You've no idea how relieved I am! I admit, I was worried there for a minute. Thank you."

• Riddle almost teared up from relief and joy but he wiped his eyes. This is a good sign after all, no need for more crying. He'll make the others worry.

"I, Dorm Leader of Hearstla- no... I, Riddle Rosehearts, am humbly grateful for your forgiveness. Now, shall we go back?"

.

.

• You and Riddle walked out of the Rose Maze, awaited by a hungry Grim and an impatient Ace.

"You done chatting with him?"

"☺️!"

"C'mon, c'mon! Don't just stand there. Sit here! I heard from Ace that Riddle made a Mont Blanc tart for us! I wanna taste it!"

"Grim, calm down. Your drool is soaking the table sheet!"

• In the end, the tart made by Riddle tasted terrible but you guys got a good laugh at it. Music filled the party and you danced with your new friends.

.

.

• Like I said, Riddle has a somewhat complicated friendship with you. You liked to feel free from restraint or control so you could freely express yourself however you want. Riddle is one of the others that keeps you at bay or from doing anything stupid.

• Riddle even made the effort to learn and decipher your movements. And in turn, you took time to learn some of the Queen of Hearts' rules.

• There are times where he hides behind you to scare away Floyd. There are times he lets you roam around Heartslabyul and dance within the Rose Maze (not without a warning to not break a rule). You cause less trouble now, however, he can't say the same for your idiots.

• He's also one of the individuals who protects your gold scales from watching eyes (read: Azul, Ruggie) and to provide the headmaster a list of reasons on why he can't just take it whenever Crowley asks. He warns you to stay away from others who want to monopolize you. He tries his best to threaten Azul to never strike a deal with you.

• He's seen you cure Overblot victims with your blood, amazed by its effectiveness to heal injuries and even some disabilities. For example, a student from Heartslabyul that were injured by the blot claimed that their blindness was gone. Another one from a different dorm used to have a paralyzed nerve in his leg, but now he can run with no difficulties thanks to your blood.

• He worries for your safety and well-being at this point. He knows that he cannot restrict you from every choice you make, whether selfless or foolish. Besides, you told him not to grow gray hairs for you as he has a lot on his plate as a dorm leader. You learned cautiousness from experience that there are individuals who revel in the despair of others.

• You know pain physically and emotionally all too well. It was under the guise of a person you thought who loved you. Only to stab you in the end and take everything you have dear away from you. Leaving you alone to lament in your miserable state.

• Riddle felt that pain too. It disguised itself not only as a loving figure, but as his own mother. A mother who inflicted strictness upon him like no other, caused him to Overblot and on the verge of dying. But he was saved by his friends who cared for him.

• But who saved you from your pain? It was just you. All the horrific things they did to you, yet... you let it all go, you learned to accept it and moved on your own. Riddle was astonished by your strength to let the painful past go. It gave him a deep thought that if you can do it, maybe he can too. You bared your scars to him and he bared his to you.

• Your carefree and cautious demeanor contrasts Riddle's strict and wrathful one. But overall, he thinks that you are a great and loyal friend. A friend that he didn't think he deserved, but one who needed to show him how to let hurtful things go. How to accept your mistakes and imperfections as a part of your journey.

• To dance with no fear on the stage full of pain and sorrow called life.

[supermoongirl9]

When you have a strong Pluto in your chart, it's vital for you to learn that you cannot control most things nor you can own people - they all come and go all the time and you just need to appreciate it while they're around or you're gonna suffer for ever.

Pluto aspecting your Sun, Rising or MC = you cannot control people's perceptions of you, only how you use it to feel more powerful.

Pluto aspecting your Moon = you cannot control how things make you feel, but you can choose how to deal with those emotional reactions.

Pluto aspecting your Mercury = your thoughts don't control you (obsessive thinking can be a thing); you cannot control what others say so don't argue constantly with them.

Pluto aspecting your Venus = you don't own people; loving someone doesn't mean you know what's best for them.

Pluto aspecting your Mars = revenge can be driving but it cannot control every single one of ur actions; you won't win all the time and that's ok (don't make urself sick or put urself in danger over that); rejection happens and shouldn't trigger a mental breakdown (works with Venus).

Pluto aspecting your Jupiter = you cannot always manipulate things at your advantage; bad things happen and it doesn't mean you're cursed for ever.

Pluto aspecting your Saturn = it takes time to feel in control of your life and sometimes, you have to accept authority from others.