#you’re completely allowed to call me insane for this one. because it’s true

[squuote]

Every instance of Stanley characterization I've found so far (more to be added as i scrounge for more):

- Stanley doesn’t let go of the bucket when you are told to put it into the bucket destroyer when you try to. (Bucket Destroyer Ending)

- Stanley running off from the Narrator + outright defiance via either running or actively trying to leave (Release Date Trailer + Game Awards Trailer)

- Stanley responding directly to the Narrator via shaking his head no. (the Game Awards Trailer)

- Stanley looking at traveling sites in his free time plus the National Geographic magazine on the desk next to the computer (the Game Awards Trailer)

- Any instance of Stanley’s attachment to the bucket (I think about The Escape Pod Ending w/ the bucket specifically for this)

- The notes page from the Indiebox Manual

- Stanley’s imagination coming to life after being left alone (the Infinite Hole Ending)

- Stanley walking through the desert to the memory zone (The Epilogue)

- The countdown ending dialogue where it implies that Stanley asks about his coworkers (The Countdown Ending)

- Stanley patting his leg while waiting for commands to come in (the Ultra Deluxe intro sequence) (he does kick his leg a bit in the 2013 intro sequence)

- The Curator’s narration after you leave the museum (the Museum Ending) (suggested by @/axolotleo)

- Stanley is stated to have a twin brother (Crowsx3 Newsletter #51, hover text over the figley image)

(I realize these are all a bit of a stretch but it’s fun to find and notice these)

[lorainelegacy]

I was going to comment but apparently you can’t take criticism anymore and turned comments off but your dismissal of NSFW content as “oh it’s just a penis grow up that’s barely sexual” is actually fucking insane. How is a penis NOT that bad? Would you be okay with a man flashing it around in public in front of children because to you it’s not that bad? Because that’s what you’re doing.

You may put 18+ on your things but you are literally using the Hogwarts Legacy tags, a place shared with minors, and adding barely censored content. It’s not “just a penis and nipples” when there are minors concerned and you’re putting a tiny blur over a dick.

Of course you can’t control them consuming adult content when they aren’t supposed to be but as a fucking 27 year old you have to have some responsibility and hiding literal porn behind something as small as a see more button is very irresponsible of you. You may have apparently seen AI generated images of Sebastian the same (where? I’ve never seen an AI penis of his hiding in plain sight on tumblr but pop off I guess) but there are terms and conditions to using Tumblr for a reason. A major one being minors use this site hence why there isn’t supposed to be nudity.

Have some fucking respect for the others you share the space with and recognise you are sharing a fandom with literal children and put your porn elsewhere like Poipiku or in 18+ servers like the rest of the responsible NSFW creators do.

You actually make me fucking sick the way you dismiss how you’re spreading NSFW content and brushing it off when you’re called out on it.

I have not turned off comments at any time. But hey, it's the last comment I answer.

1) There's a lot, a LOT of sexual content on Tumblr. And I'm talking about truly explicit content, I'm not talking about a nipple or a penis. I'm talking about sex. Yes, I have seen AI photos of Sebastian completely naked, with his penis and everything, but maybe since he is young nothing happens.

2) While it is true that images where genitals appear "openly" are not allowed, my image (which is only one for God's sake) appears more like a background. The image does not focus on that, it does not show it in all its details, which is what is prohibited on the platform. Tumblr accepts nudity, there are thousands of nudes out there of all kinds. Just search for "nudes" and you'll be surprised at how much more explicit sexual content than mine exists.

3) Tumblr indicates that if you upload nudes you indicate it on the tags, I don't just do that. I censor the image and then if someone wants to see the image uncensored they are free to do so by clicking on it.

4) It's not my damn fault that a minor freely wants to see my images. This is a free site and I'm uploading legal content, nudity that you could see in an art gallery. This is a website, not an elementary school. I'm not here to educate anyone.

5) Make yourself a cup of tea that looks a little altered. Again, I'm not uploading anything excessive or illegal, I'm uploading nudes that could be seen in an art gallery. They are not even having sex, and if it makes you sick my content just BLOCK MY ACCOUNT. That little button exists.

6) Oh, by the way, do you know what's illegal? I'm going to copy and paste the following from the Tumblr rules:

Harm to Minors. Don't post or solicit content that features the abuse of a minor, that includes suggestive or sexual content involving a minor or anyone that appears to be a minor, or that facilitates or promotes child sexual abuse. "Content" may include photos of real individuals, illustrations, animation, or text. Posting or reblogging child sexual abuse material is a serious crime for which we have no tolerance.

I have seen people who write pure and very harsh violations of minors. People from the fandom. With their Hogwarts Legacy tags too, you know? And have I done something? Have I denounced? Have I written insulting that person? I just ignored it and that's it. And that's it's illegal content on the platform.

And I leave this issue aside because I am very tired. The drama you're making over an undetailed penis is what's really ridiculous here.

[oh-surprise-its-me]

And for today's fluff I come to you with....

Flyboys and daggers finding out that ronnie is actually a very good cook. They're shocked. And damn those cookies he made as dessert?daaamn they can't stop going back and eat them!!

(Delivered by my own self experience...I brought cookies to work today just because I was in the mood yesterday. They just can't stop eating them, I can't stop grinning like a madman. I'm actually always.proud of my cooking, but never got them anything before)

Oh I completely understand, I’m the one that bakes everything for any family get together. It’s now expected of me 💀 (pumpkin roll season is finally here that means I get to bake lots now!)

“Holly try this shit it’s incredible?”

Holly takes the bite off of Wolfs fingers. He chews slowly. He opens his eyes and tilts his head, “that was maybe the best sandwich bread I’ve ever had? Where did this come from??”

Wolf shrugs and points at Ron and Tom hitting the volleyball back across the net. “They have it to me?”

Holly blinks and breaks more of the bread apart. “You don’t think they made this do you?”

There’s a voice that’s from a few feet away, “yeah I did actually. It’s pretty easy. Chrisy taught me last winter.”

They blink up at Slider. They absolutely can’t believe that the man can bake. “It’s incredible dude. Tell your wife? Girlfriend? I want the recipe.” Ron slowly nods. “Yeahh sure I can do that.”

Ice throws a bag at their heads, “try the cookies!” Holly snatches the bag and bites into one. He moans. He can’t help it. This is the best food he’s had in months.

There’s a laugh from above, “see Ronnie they like your cooking like I said.” Wolf grabs Ron into a hug. “You’re allowed to cook any day of the week for us Sli.” Ron laughs, “noted Wolfie.”

——

“Jake where did your dad get these cakes it’s insane?” Jake blinks at Phoenix, he laughs “pa made them for sure.”

Bob inhales from where he is standing he points at the cake with a shocked expression. “You’re fucking with us.” Jake grins and shakes his head, “pa was always a magical thing in the kitchen.”

Bradley slips a hand around Jakes waist. “He do Wedding cakes?” Jake slams his hand into Bradley’s shoulder, “don’t you dare.” Bradley tosses his head back with a laugh. He presses a kiss to Jake’s head and then drifts off after grabbing a cookie.

“Ron Kerner how did you make these so addictive!?!”

Ron shrugs from where he’s sitting on the couch next to Javy’s mom. “Magic Mav.”

Mav shakes his head at Ron. Of course he’s not getting a clear answer. “You’re on baking duty from this point on.”

Payback raises his hand and gets called on by Merlin. “Can we have these cakes for our birthdays again?” Ron smiles at the group of over grown children in their yard. “Sure kiddos. Write down whatever you want with a name and I’ll do it.”

A cheer goes up around all of them. Jake leans into Tom’s side from when he reappeared, “pa is promising baked goods again.”

Tom sighs. “Your dad is a a real piece of work huh baby.” Jake laughs, “you love him too much to mean that.” Tom shrugs and kisses Jake’s head, “that’s true.”

Jake watches as his dad is swarmed by daggers wanting cooking advice.

[superfluouskeys]

ok also if i get a bonus then how about generic ⭐star⭐ but like ⭐star⭐ not on a full fic like on a drill down like i want to hear about a SECTION or even like A TINY SNIPPET or like A SENTENCE you could even give me the directors commentary on ONE WORD

oooohhhhhhhh this is so fun okay so I chose this snippet from ch5 of The Chance You Take, and I am starting this by saying this fic is NOT!!!!!!! abandoned this is like the only fic that survived the 2020 ficpocalypse of my brain and I still desperately love it it’s just in the purgatory of me trying to convince myself not to edit the first part instead of just continuing it.

Meredith eyed Isabela curiously, then turned her attention to Hawke.  “What?” she demanded. Hawke made no effort to contain her amusement.  She shrugged merrily. Meredith’s glare hardened. “Nothing!  It’s sort of fun to watch when it’s not me, that’s all!” Hawke confessed. Meredith’s expression did not change.  At the very least, it did not get worse.  “To what are you referring?” she asked crisply. “Oh, you know,” Hawke waved vaguely, “the whole Scary Templar Lady thing.” “Is that what you think of me?” Meredith wondered coolly. Hawke startled.  “What?  No!  That’s not what I meant—“ “Isn’t it?” Meredith leaned in, soft-spoken and subdued, somehow even more frightening than when she towered or blustered.  “Allow me to repeat the question, Serah Hawke,” she continued.  “What is it you’re so afraid of?”

I liked this particular exchange because I think it highlights something very critical about the Hawke/Meredith dynamic, in this story specifically but also I think how I usually write them: Meredith tolerates a lot from Hawke, and on the surface what she does and doesn’t tolerate seems arbitrary.

This whole exchange is pretty fraught—first, Meredith is in a bad mood because Hawke is talking to Some Man when she arrives, but Hawke manages to talk her down from that ledge, to the point that they’re having a good time and Meredith is considering hinting about the gift she found earlier.  Then, Some Man comes back, and Meredith kind of reverts back into her Templar Persona, which isn’t so much different from how she is normally as it is a particular mindset that she has not been engaging with since she’s been gone.

And then Hawke has the audacity to treat it, to treat what Meredith feels is essentially the sum of her entire existence, into which she has poured everything, because tragedy gave her her purpose, and because she has nothing else—as a joke.

Meredith’s duty is not and can never be a joke to her, but more than that, her duty is so inextricably tied to her entire formative sense of identity that someone laughing at her, denigrating her, disrespecting her in her capacity as a templar can only ever be deeply personal.  And if it were anyone else (besides the fellow templars she respects and feels bound to), she wouldn’t care.  It would still be personal, she just wouldn’t care.

Without realizing it, Meredith has been living with this contradiction: she thought that despite everything Hawke is and does, Hawke still respected Meredith’s work and what had to be done, and supported her genuinely.  And, at the same time, she thought Hawke saw her as more than just her job.  Because their interactions up to this point have been so completely insane and nothing like Meredith has ever experienced before, she thought Hawke had somehow managed to differentiate Meredith from her work (still believing Hawke respected her work), even when Meredith could not separate herself from her work.

And that is almost, almost true!  Hawke very obviously does see Meredith as separate from her job, and even though she doesn’t always like it, she has grown to hold at least some respect for what Meredith does!  Pretty much everyone Hawke knows has some kind of deep-seated duty or calling that can never really shake—but the difference is that it isn’t the literal core of who they are.  Meredith lost her family when she was seven, and was pretty much raised a templar from that point onward.  Even if Hawke’s other companions don’t always like her teasing, they’re able to tolerate it because they’re able to separate the core of themselves from their duties.  From Meredith’s perspective, Hawke viewing her duty as something to joke about is akin to Hawke viewing Meredith as a joke.

Meredith pretty much shuts down, because she’s not used to being bothered by what people think of her.  People say horrible things about her all the time.  She’s surprised and hurt that Hawke admits to being afraid of her, but it’s not really about the fear—it’s about the lack of faith in her work, and therefore in her. Hawke is one of the few people who doesn't hate her or think she's crazy at this point, and that has been wayyyyy more of a source of comfort for her than she realized. (She thinks about this explicitly a little in chapter one, and somewhere else also I think.)

I don’t love some of the wording I chose here between the dialogue—this is what I mean when I say this fic makes me want to gently edit it LOL.  I think clearer, simpler connecting phrases would make the mood shift pack more of a punch.  I want it to feel like everything’s going fine, Hawke is having a good time, not grasping the danger, and then the mood just DROPS.  Maybe something like:

Meredith watched him go, impassive.  She turned her attention back to Hawke.  “What?” Hawke made no effort to hide her amusement.  She shrugged merrily. Meredith waited. “Nothing!” said Hawke.  “It’s sort of fun to watch when it’s not me, that’s all!” Meredith narrowed her eyes, uncomprehending.  “To what are you referring?” “Oh, you know,” Hawke waved vaguely, “the whole Scary Templar Lady thing.” “Is that what you think of me?” Meredith wondered. Cold premonition sent a shiver down Hawke’s spine.  She looked up, startled.  “What?  No!  That’s not what I—“ “Isn’t it?” Meredith leaned in, soft-spoken and subdued, a thousand times more frightening than when she towered or blustered.  “Allow me to repeat the question, Serah Hawke,” she continued.  “What is it you’re so afraid of?”

It’s not much of a change, but the connecting phrases supply the timing for the dialogue.  The way it was before, the pace was being slowed by the connectors before the mood shift rather than right after.  This way, the first part reads as quick and snappy, and then the pace grinds to a halt with the stronger word choice and heavier descriptions.  They’re in conflict after this, but it’s a tense, cautious kind of conflict where they’re choosing their words very carefully, juxtaposed against the loud, boisterous atmosphere around them.  So where you might normally want to escalate the conflict by speeding it up, in this case I think it makes more sense to slow it down.

Aaaaaaaah I can’t wait to go insane about DA2 again!!!  Thank you for indulging me, this was super fun, I love rambling about this kind of thing!!!

Fanfic Writer Director's Cut Ask Game!

[vividaway]

Alex threw her head back before looking around the ceiling. She never noticed it before, but there were hundreds of stars painted across the entire rooms ceiling. They moved across her field of vision, almost dancing with each other.

"Yeah, but it's not that easy, you know. You're probably used to all this media training, but I have zero clue what I'm doing. I can't just freak everyone out!"

Oliver shuffled his feet below him. "I don't think I'll be of use to you." he eventually said, picking his hands up in an moment of not knowing. 

"Okay. I know what to say. I'll just tell them I fell ill." She said, grabbing her laptop in her hands and pitter-pattering her fingers across the keyboard. "Are you serious? What did you just say about lying?" Oliver retorted, pushing the laptop screen shut. "Oh, come on! This is completely different. If people find out I'm staying at this hotel, they'll flip out. Like, seriously flip out. It would be bad for me, and probably you as well."

Oliver's hands hovered over the laptop screen for a moment before letting go. "You're going to cause a media storm. You know that, right?" 

Alex shrugged off his words. So what if she did? Her entire life was a confusing mess, so she might as well create a mess for somebody else to have to clean up. "Do you know who my managers are by chance?"

He laughed. "No, I don't. That information isn't as public as people would like to believe."

"Damn it. I have access to my contacts, but I don't know who is who. I could theoretically just call and ask everybody who they are, but that would look suspicious as fuck. Why wouldn't I know who they are? They'd figure it out easily." she shook her head at the end of her sentence.

"You're just going to have to wait for them to contact you, sadly."

Alex nodded, and laid down in her bed. Oliver eventually made his way out of her room and went about his day. He made it his mission to bother her, she thought, or at least, that's how he was acting. Constantly checking up on her. Constantly in her room. Could he never leave her alone? 

It was kind of nice to have somebody to talk to at first, but she was really driving herself insane. There's only so many things you can talk about when you're hooked up to an IV drip and forced to stay in bed all day. She was slowly losing her mind and going stir crazy.

She pulled her laptop back out and opened up her social media, with the drafted tweet still out. She kept it in her drafts, and tweeted a simple "hi" all lowercase. People quickly interacted and were relieved to see she was okay.

"Andie Gray Is OKAY" trended after that, and it made her heart swell a bit. To have two trending hashtags about her in the span of 48 hours was impressive, she thought, and she couldn't believe she was actually here.

She always dreamed of celebrity status as a kid. She always wanted to escape where she was previously living, and run away to a lifestyle of luxury and wealth where she could do anything she please, with anyone she pleased. She never expected to actually end up here one day. 

It was insane to think about, really. It was like her dreams had come true overnight, and she was just expected to deal with the downfall of everything that happened as a result. She wasn't allowed to speak on whatever happened, because she truly didn't know. 

It was going to be a long process, and she knew she was in for it.

The rest of the time in her hotel room had been spent diligently filling up pages of her journal with everything she could remember. She had her nightmares written down, which had been a reoccurring process when she was a teenager, so she assumed this was related to that. Journaling was really freeing for her. Like speaking to a friend who you didn't have to comfort or care for. 

Somebody who was forced to listen to you vent, and didn't need to be in a good head space to do so. It was easy to get her thoughts out when nobody was there eyeing her up like a piece of meat they were judging for quality and expectations on. No hard feelings, nothing in the way, just getting her feelings out and truly expressing herself.

READ THE REST HERE

[sluttywonwoo]

take it off || k.mg x reader

Pairing: mob!mingyu x fem reader

Summary: as much as you hate to admit it, jealousy looks good on your fiancé 

Warnings: swearing, light smut (18+)

Word Count: 1.8k

a/n: reworked this old blurb originally posted on my tom holland fic account ( @wazzupmrstark )

Masterlist

“Mingyu, slow down,” you said with a sigh, trying not to roll your eyes.

“What was he thinking?” Mingyu spat, not acknowledging what you had just said. He gripped the steering wheel even harder.

You watched as his knuckles began to turn white and rubbed his arm soothingly. “Baby, take a deep breath. Relax.”

He just shrugged you off and cursed at the car in front of him.

“Don’t fucking tell me to relax.”

“It’s not a big deal, Gyu.”

He actually turned his head towards you and looked at you this time. ��You’re joking.”

You shrugged sheepishly. “I’ve had worse.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel better?”

You winced, knowing you’d probably made it worse and that Mingyu was likely now picturing the grimy hands of ill-intentioned strangers all over your body.

“I should have him killed,” he snarled.

To most, that threat would sound completely ridiculous or utterly insane, but your fiancé was the head of the Seoul mob-the South West branch anyway- and he was no stranger to violence. Having someone killed would be as easy as snapping his fingers.

You scoffed to call his bluff.

“You think I won’t?” he challenged and you groaned.

“You promised you were done with that.”

It’s true, one of the conditions of your engagement had been that Mingyu agree to put the more sinister side of his business to rest, and although you trusted him, in all honesty, you weren’t sure how well he was upholding his end of the deal.

“I’d make an exception.”

“Well don’t. I don’t want some poor guy’s blood on my hands.”

At that, the car screeched to a stop right in the middle of the freeway. The cars behind you honked and flashed their lights at Mingyu as they maneuvered to avoid a collision.

You huffed in frustration, wanting to bang your head against the dashboard. This was exactly why you didn’t like for Mingyu to drive himself: he pulled dangerous shit all the time like this. Literally, all of his other men had drivers who took them places and you desperately wished Mingyu would hire someone, but he insisted that it was safest if he was the one driving (yet here you were in the middle of the highway).

“You could’ve fucking killed us!” you shouted, more annoyed than anything.

Mingyu took a deep breath. “I’m sorry. But y/n, he’s not just some poor guy.”

“He was trying to get a rise out of you, Gyu. He fucking hates you, of course, he’d go after me, and he was drunk.”

Mingyu narrowed his eyes at you, foot still pressed firmly on the brake. “That’s not a fucking excuse, you of all people should know that. Why are you trying to defend him?”

“I’m not trying to defend him, I’m just saying he doesn’t deserve to die. Can we please just get home?”

Mingyu relented and put the car back into motion making you breathe a sigh of relief.

Even though he didn’t say anything else you could tell his mind was still going a thousand miles a minute. You watched him chew at his lip in silence and wondered what was going on in that beautiful head of his. Nothing good, you could be sure of that.

Mingyu’s mind was darker than most. Occupational hazard. He carried so much pain that you hadn’t known about when you first met him. He’d let you in slowly, keeping you at arm’s length for months, until he almost lost you. And then he knew he couldn’t keep things from you anymore. It was still a challenge to understand his thought process sometimes, but you liked it that way. How could a ruthless, power-hungry mobster also be the most loving, family-oriented person you’d ever met in your life? How could someone who dropped a grand on a dinner like it was nothing secretly rather spend one more night picnicking with crappy Chinese food on the bedroom floor in your old apartment? You couldn’t think of an answer, and you didn’t want to.

The guy at the bar tonight had been some rival of Mingyu’s. You hadn’t seen him before, but you could tell because when Mingyu got up to get the two of you more drinks he swooped in and laid it on heavy. He looped one arm around your waist and placed his other hand on your knee and began attempting to seduce you. Sure, you were uncomfortable but more than anything you were angry. And tired. Tired of being used as bait, something to get to Mingyu.

You didn’t want to make a scene so you listened to the asshole talk about how much better he’d treat you than Mingyu until your fiancé eventually returned with your drinks in hand, face beet red, eyes dark with anger.

The man, you never caught his name, left the bar with a broken nose. Mingyu left with bruised knuckles. You’d thought it would end at that, but of course, once Mingyu got started it was hard for him to stop. It was a gift in the bedroom, but a curse in the rest of your life.

Then, so softly you almost didn’t hear it, Mingyu broke the silence in the car and said “I know what he said to you,” and it all clicked.

Normally, a hand on your shoulder, thigh, ass was enough to set Mingyu off, but combine that with the filthy words he’d undoubtedly overheard spilling from the man’s lips… no wonder all he could see was red.

“Mingyu, I-“

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn’t want to start something.”

“Start something? Is that true? Or do you think he’s right?”

“No, of course not.”

“Do you think he can satisfy you better than I can?”

“Mingyu!”

“Well do you?”

You shook your head and rubbed your thighs together, fighting a shiver. As irritating as Mingyu’s jealousy could be, the effect it had on you was even more infuriating. The man could already turn you on without doing anything and whenever he started acting a little jealous it was game over for you. It was pathetic, really.

“Why the fuck did he even think it was okay to look at you, let alone touch you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged finally settling in to play the game. “These big dudes with huge muscles just think they can have whoever they want.”

Mingyu whipped his head back towards you. “What did you say?”

You ignored him. “I mean he definitely wouldn’t be as good as you, but he could do some damage.” Mingyu was full-on glaring at you now, and you wanted to tell him to keep his eyes on the road, but you couldn’t give up so fast. “I mean, just one of his hands could probably wrap around my whole neck. Like they were giant, and you know what they say about guys with big hands-“

“Do you think this is funny?”

Any sane person wouldn’t even think about taunting Mingyu like this, not with his reputation, but you couldn’t be sane to be with someone like Mingyu anyway, and besides, you knew he was a big softie at heart.

“A little,” you admitted. “You look really hot right now.”

He really did. His hair was tousled with silver highlights from the moonlight streaming in through the windshield, his tan skin was flushed with adrenaline, and his white button-up was unbuttoned just a few times to show off his collarbone. You bit your lip. You were so fucking weak.

“That’s not going to work.”

“No?” You quirked an eyebrow and leaned over the console to see that he was already more than half hard in his dress pants. “Because it looks like it’s working.” You reached over and began to palm him through his trousers, smirking when he cursed and rolled his neck at the contact.

“Y/n, if I have to pull over, you’re not going to be able to walk for the next week.”

Oh no, that’d be horrible you thought to yourself and rolled your eyes. He had to know that’s what you secretly wanted, right? Right? Why were men so stupid?

Either way, you took your hand back and moved it up under the hem of your dress to where you were feeling a little desperate for some friction. You sighed deeply when you rubbed yourself over your panties, not even surprised at how wet you were.

“Fuck,” you hissed out and hiked your legs up onto the seat so you could give Mingyu a better view.

“Stop that.”

He said it so forcefully that you froze, fingers hovering over your panties, about to pull them to the side. Then you smiled.

“No.” You went ahead and did it anyway, slipping two fingers inside of yourself easily.

You weren’t one to defy Mingyu often, especially when it came to what he asked of you in the bedroom, but you knew how crazy it drove him and just couldn’t resist.

Mingyu groaned, trying and failing to maintain an angry expression. His eyes betrayed an absolutely sinful lust that made you want to melt and you wished more than anything he’d just pull the fucking car over.

“Fuck, Gyu,” you gasped, “I wish these were your fingers, you’re so good with your fingers.”

“Yeah? You sure you wish they’re my fingers? Not someone else’s?”

You shook your head vigorously. “Never. You’re the only one who knows how to make me cum that hard.”

“Is that what you want? To cum hard?”

“God, yes,” you moaned, pumping your fingers in and out of you faster.

“Take off your dress.”

“What?” you weren’t sure if you’d heard him right, you were still driving down the highway after all.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

Not wanting to push your luck any further you didn’t hesitate to listen this time and pulled the loose fabric up and over your head.

“Good girl,” he praised and you whined. You were still wearing your bra and underwear and as much as you’d love to flash oncoming traffic, you hoped Mingyu wouldn’t ask you to take them off.

“You can touch yourself,” he said and you complied, knowing it was more of an instruction than an allowance.

It felt good, really good, but you still wished it was him instead of you.

“Fuck, darling you look so beautiful like that, God, I can’t believe I get to marry you.”

“If, you stop, killing people,” you managed to get out through gritted teeth and Mingyu laughed.

“I’m not going to kill him, baby. I made a promise. You’re too important to risk losing, even if he is a fucking prick.”

You whimpered, the mixture of complete head-over-heels love you felt for Mingyu and pleasure making you crumble.

“Don’t worry, baby,” he said, reaching over and taking you by the wrist, stalling your movements just as you were about to fall over the edge. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you’ll forget you ever met that asshole.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

forever tags: @haven-cove

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[moonlit-reveriee]

Baby Blue

technoblade x fem!reader

concept: techno is scared of ‘corrupting’ the reader, but the reader’s kinda into it...

content warning // NSFW, virgin!reader, very minor angst?, small argument that gets resolved

listen to this while you read: BBBlue (Single) by Olivver the Kid

(this fic was heavily inspired by the lyrics of this song, so i highly recommended giving it a listen!)

───※ ·❆· ※───

When Techno found out you were a virgin, he was terrified. Not necessarily of the thought itself, but of the implications.

He’d never forget the look on your face when you told him. You tried to be casual about it, but he knew you well enough to spot the dusting of pink across your cheeks. You nuzzled yourself closer into his side. Whether out of embarrassment or something else entirely, he couldn’t tell. All he could feel was his heart dropping as the voices chanted at him to “ruin her”

Of course you, his pure sweet angel, would be a virgin. He once again crumbled under the idea that you had chosen him. How on earth could a person like you even think of being with a beast like him. Yet alone, giving up your virginity to him.

He hated how horribly turned on he was by the thought of taking it.

The voices had been relentless about it ever since. They were hyper focused on your every move, twisting every thought of his into something promiscuous. When you rolled out of bed in the morning and stretched, a small sigh escaping your lips, it was endless cries of “make her do that again” “you should fuck those moans out of her” “make her scream”

While making breakfast together in the morning, they wouldn’t stop telling him to “bend her over the counter” “take it right here”

Even at times where he was alone, the voices preoccupied him with endless thoughts of you. He was fairly certain they had forced him to imagine every possible way in which he could have you. “imagine fucking her against the wall” “you can be gentle for the first time y’know” “she’d feel so good writhing underneath us” “press her face into the mattress instead” “make her get on her knees and suck you off” “she’ll be such a pretty little slut for us”

He tried to take care of himself as often as he could, but it was becoming impossible to keep up with. There were only so many times a day he could jerk himself off alone behind locked doors. He was desperate, and sexually frustrated to say the least.

He felt disgusting for it.

After a week of this torment, he could barely even look at you yet alone touch you without the voices and his own guilt pounding against his skull. You couldn’t even think about broaching the subject again, because he was avoiding physical contact like the plague. He wouldn’t come to bed until he knew you were asleep, and would leave long before you woke.

As much as he tried to hide it, you could tell he was tired. Something was wrong, but you knew that he’d never just tell you about his problems unprompted. Techno was insufferably stubborn in that way. After several days of avoiding your gaze and leaning away from your touch, you chose to confront him.

“Techno”, you called for his attention quietly, trying to sound stern while remaining gentle with him. He didn’t turn to fully face you, but he glanced at the spot on the wall just above your head.

You struggled to find the words you wanted to say, so you settled on telling him, “Techno, you look tired.”

He turned his attention away from you. “Just a lot of work around the house this week. I’ll be fine after I rest.”

“Then come to bed with me.” You saw the way his body tensed and tilted away from you at that simple suggestion.

“I just need to write a couple letters first. You can go ahead of me.”

“Techno...”, you whined, daring to take a step closer to him. He gave you an almost panicked look, “why does it feel like you’ve been avoiding me?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you”, he responded quickly, trying to look through you instead of at you.

“Yes you have”, you responded firmly. A flash of guilt washed over his face at your tone. “You haven’t kissed or touched me for nearly a week now. I don’t even know for sure if you sleep in the same bed as me anymore. Fuck, you barely even talk to me.”

Angry tears threatened to spill down your cheeks, but you wanted to hold them in. Techno felt his chest tighten at the sight of it. He instinctively turned and reached out to comfort you, but forced himself to freeze.

“There”, you said, gesturing towards him, “just like that. You’re stopping yourself. Why are you doing that?”

He repeatedly opened and closed his fists at his side, wanting to have any conversation other than this one.

“[y/n], there’s just a lot going on in my mind right now”, he said. It wasn’t a complete lie. “I just need to work though it.”

“Then let me help you.”

“No”, he responded a little too quickly, “I- I mean, I just don’t want to talk about it with you yet...”

“Why not?”, you retorted, trying to squeeze any information you could out of him.

“I just don’t, okay? It’s uncomfortable, I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

“... is this about me being a virgin?”

“I never said that”, he replied, but the tension in his shoulders was enough to tip you off.

“Ah geez Technoblade, if it was that much of a problem for ya, you should have just told me”, you said sarcastically, “instead of avoiding all physical contact for a like week straight!”

“It’s not a problem, [y/n].”

“Certainly doesn’t feel that way.”

Techno huffed in frustration, grabbing a fistful of his hair at the root. He wasn’t sure if he was more upset with himself, or the fact that a few of the voices were still begging him to “please fuck her already”

“Love, I wasn’t avoiding you because I didn’t want it. They”, he tapped a finger against the side of his skull, “they want it so badly. It’s driving me insane.”

He breathed in and out shakily, trying to gauge your expression in the brief moments before he continued.

“I’m a monster. I’ve spilt more blood than anyone every should in a single lifetime. My appearance is more beast than man.”

He looked up briefly to find you staring right at him, a tight-lipped frown upon your face.

“What does that have to do with any of this?”

“I- ... I don’t want to corrupt your innocence”, he admitted.

“What on earth do you mean by that?”

“[y/n], you’re so perfect”, he answered almost breathlessly, “you’re so kind and so pure. Just living with me does enough to taint your reputation, I don’t wanna-“

He cut himself off to swallow thickly. He almost seemed scared of the words he was going to say next.

“I don’t want to ruin this part of you either...”

A heavy silence filled the tiny sitting room of techno’s cottage. In those few seconds, your eyes widened ever so slightly as his words suddenly clicked in your mind. This hulking boar of a man, an undisputed war criminal, was scared. He was scared of damaging you, your reputation, or your recently revealed ‘innocence’. Compared to himself, he saw you as a pure being who could be tainted by unwholesome thoughts.

If what he said about the voices was true, then his actions of the past few days would’ve made sense for him.

“Oh techno...”, you muttered softly, tentatively placing a hand on his jaw. His posture was curled inward, making him look small despite his size. He was stiff at first, but allowed you to lift his gaze to meet yours. He searched your eyes desperately for an indication of your reaction. You gave him a reassuring smile.

“Do you remember when we first met?”

A small wave of confusion washed over his face, but he nodded anyways. “It was at the festival...”

“That’s right”, you said, moving the hand on his face down to rest over his shoulder, “and do you remember what I did that day?”

“You threw an axe into Schlatt’s shoulder”, he answered, watching as the scene played out in his memory.

You lived with Niki in her bakery at the time, and witnessed firsthand the injustice she faced during Schlatt’s presidency. As the chaos after Tubbo’s execution occurred, you took the opportunity to hurl your axe where Schlatt stood upon his podium. The blow wasn’t fatal, but that wasn’t necessarily your goal. You just wanted to see the man in pain.

“It was a lucky shot really”, you admitted, “I wasn’t even aiming properly.” That managed to draw a small smile onto Techno’s lips.

“And do you remember”, you continued, “when I tried to confront the Butcher Army by myself?”

He grimaced at the thought. You had told him you just needed to make a quick trip to L’manburg for some supplies, leaving him at home alone to recover from the previous day’s events. You returned that evening with a sprained wrist and a couple large bruises forming on your body. None of them were trying to kill you, but you took a pretty good beating from Quackity just for trying to confront them.

“Why are you bringing all of this up now?”, he asked.

“Because”, you said, “this is the evidence that will support my next point.”

He looked bewildered by that statement, but continued to listen.

“I’m not a perfect person”, you resumed, “I have blood on my hands just like you do. I know it’s hard to compare to you, but I’m not devoid of my own sins. I can be mean, I’ve hurt people. I’m not a pure, angelic being who would quiver at a single inappropriate thought. I think you forget that sometimes.”

He let your words swirl around in his head; he couldn’t deny the logic in them. The evidence prevented him from denying the truth of your statement. He could almost be mad that you’d talked him into a corner, but he was more overjoyed at the fact that you knew him well enough to do so.

“And you know...”, you spoke quietly, letting your hand fall down to rest on his chest, “if you did somehow ‘corrupt my innocence’ as you say... I really wouldn’t mind that.”

Techno’s breath hitched in his throat. There were a brief few moments, maybe minutes, where he just stared at you. Then his lips were on yours; sudden and clumsy, but passionate. You gripped the fabric of his shirt as he grabbed at your waist, desperate to have you in his arms again.

“I’m sorry, I had to”, he muttered, his lips left hovering a hair’s breadth away from yours.

“You’re so silly sometimes”, you sighed affectionately, rubbing small circles into his collarbone. He gave you a gentle smirk before pressing another kiss into your lips.

“I’m sorry darling, I really am”, he said as he drew you into a tight hug. He took in your scent and the feel of your skin for the first time in days. It felt like he could survive off the feeling of your arms wrapped around his body alone. He wondered why he ever let himself be depraved of this.

“You know I trust you, right?”, you spoke with your face pressed into his chest.

“I’m not sure why, but yes.”

You decided not to reprimand him for saying that. You could help him unpack all that later. Instead, you brought your head up to whisper in his ear.

“You have my full and unconditional consent to take my virginity whenever you’re ready.”

Techno inhaled and held his breath, though for what, he wasn’t sure. It took a while for the full weight of those words to sink in. He leaned back to stare at your face, bringing one of his large and shaky hands up to cup your cheek.

“Are you sure?”, his eyes were wide with trepidation, practically pleading with you to tell him the truth. You leaned into his palm, indulging in the feeling of his skin on yours.

“I want you, techno. I’ll wait as long as you need me to.”

Techno was lost in your words. The sudden absence of guilt left his heart light and airy in his chest. For the first time in days, the voices were only a gentle murmur.

“she’s so beautiful” “she wants you” “make her feel good” “show her how special she is” “make her smile” “she’ll be so pretty” “she’s always pretty” “be gentle, no need to rush”

“make love to her”

“... I think I’m ready now.”

───※ ·❆· ※───

ayyyy guess who finally finished writing something!!!

parts of this feel a little rushed but ehhhhhh i was just excited to finally post it. i looove writing techno as an extremely self-conscious character who’s too caught up in their own head to see how ridiculous they’re being. so, this was a treat for me to write

i hope you enjoyed :D

-moonlight

[script-nef]

Tomorrow | Rick Flag

Category: 18+/smut Warning: Handjob, thighjob (? is that a thing-), soft sex, pet names, praise kink, Ricky is a simp 2.7k words; Fuck, you’re insane. But then what does that say about him, who’s attracted to your entire shtick?

A/N: There’s this one part that i’m not sure is anatomically correct-

The team is insane. There’s a semi-talking shark, two weird mercenaries, a depressed twig with an alien virus, a girl who controls fucking rats, Harley with her name just speaking for herself.

And yet you’re the certified batshit crazy one. By everyone. Especially Rick himself.

You’re off to the side, talking to your ‘soulmate’ Harley about her break-up with the Joker because while the news about how she was up for grabs to villains was blaring everywhere, you weren’t paying attention. You got into a new show and it was amazing. A show about a homicidal, psychopathic cannibal psychiatrist falling for his insane patient. And you called it the best form of romance. Sometimes he wants to grab anyone of higher authority by the shirt collar—preferably Waller—and rattle them until they give him at least a semi-functioning person.

“Really? You broke up with him?”

“Yeah, we weren’t working well together. It was better this way, ya know?”

“I do indeed, Harley. Good for you, sweetie! So proud of you. Well, I like you and I don’t like him, so do you want me to go over and wreck his shit? He was mean to you for a long time and I would love to spear—”

“That’s enough.” He steps in, yanking you by the back of your shirt, away from Harley before she can respond, ignoring your whinings of Ri-ick, I was only joking and the petulant, ineffective dragging of your feet against the ground. He's basically your impulse control, stopping you whenever you're about to do something reckless with no regard for your health and safety, taking on your childish pokes and prods because you're bored and his skin is so nice. You say it’s a compliment but he's not sure if that’s completely true. From you, it could either mean you want his skincare routine—he doesn't have one—or you want to skin him so you're in possession of nice, clean flesh.

Fuck, you’re insane.

But then what does that say about him, who’s attracted to your entire shtick?

Okay, it’s not like he wants to be. Every single fibre, bone and sensible thought in his body constantly berates him for this. Really? Her? Her? Out of fucking everyone in the world? And he agrees with them one hundred percent. He should be removing any and all thoughts about you that don’t pertain to the mission, lock them away in a box, solder it shut, kick it down a ravine and into the sea, hoping it gets crushed by the water pressure. That’s exactly what he should do.

That’s not what happens. You have a different agenda, ruining his chances of ever finding peace. Latching onto him at whatever opportunity and excuse that pops into your head at any point, and you have a lot. “I’m cold!”, “I watched a puppy be all alone and you didn’t let me pet it so I’m sad.”, “You have a deadly disease called ‘no-affection-sickness’. It’s super fatal and you’ll die if you don’t get kisses and hugs. I don’t want you to die, Ricky, you deserve better than that.”

Maybe it would be better if you did it to everyone else, climbing on top of them every once in a while, calling cute—fuck did he just admit Ricky is cute—nicknames, but you don’t. It’s just for him. And he doesn’t know if he likes that or wants it to stop. Everything you do kills him.

The back of his head sticks into the valley of your tits, sinking in way more than he should allow in front of everyone. Even when he tries to pry his head out of your grasp, you make a noise of frustration and wrap your arms around his neck, locking him into the position. Half-choking him in the attempt to see the plan over him, the plan that would be easily visible if you just let go and sat down next to him like a normal person. Like everyone else in the room. He can see the others sneaking looks, side glances at your blatant display of affection. Can’t do anything about it.

You don't wear bras to sleep, just a thin shirt that droops to your thighs—it’s way too big for you because it’s his, and he has no idea how you got it but he doesn’t have the heart to ask for it back—and of fucking course you take the spot next to him, beaming and sniggering like you're in on a joke no one else is. He can't catch a break from you. (Does he even want one though?)

“Big day tomorrow! Nighty night, guys!” You say it like it’s a picnic, or a lunch date tomorrow when they’re actually walking to the jaws of death. Everyone replies to you in their own way and shuffles to sleep.

Snores echo in the room, pulling Rick back from the arms of sleep every time he gets close to it. How a shark sounds so loud is totally lost to him. In fact, can sharks even snore? Fuck if he knows.

You’re awake as well, fiddling with the sleeve of his neon yellow shirt. He’s given up on telling you to stop at this point.

“If we survive, can we get a day off before going back to prison?” You whisper in the dark, right next to his ear like you’re sharing a secret. He turns his head to your side even though it’s so dark that he can barely see the faintest outline of your body. He knows you’re looking straight back at him, eyes wide and curious even though you should be a bit drowsy at least.

“Probably not. And it’s not if, it’s when. You’re going to make it.” You giggle at his words and place a kiss onto his cheek, shorter than all your other ones but the only one so far that feels… genuine. The voices in his head give up then, disappearing completely, and oh. Oh. Shit.

It’s the night before a coup and the mission and it’s the worst fucking time to have this revelation. It’s not fireworks, not an eye-opening revelation. It’s like sitting on the beach, the seawater halfway up his chest and a wave washing over him. There’s something rising in his chest, something way too big and dangerous, so he swallows it back down. Locks it up, just for the next 24 hours. Then he can think about it after not dying. So he decides on choking out a “why?” to distract himself. You don’t reply for a while.

“I want to go home.”

You don’t have one, though. As far as he knows. The dossier on you was two pages; one and a half being all the places you visited and the people you wasted. It didn’t mention permanent residence. Running all the time, hopping from one motel to another and leaving a trail of dead bodies or looted safes behind you, infamous for being slippery as hell until he finally caught you. Pinned you to a wall before dragging your ass to Belle Reve.

“You wouldn’t know it. No one really does. I have a tortoise there, Wilbur. I think he misses me. I want to hug him one last time before I never see him again.” He hears shuffling, then heat as you cuddle up to him, fingers tentative against his arm, asking wordlessly if you can hug it. His body’s already moving to let your arm link with his before he realises. “If— When we get out of here… maybe you can visit me. I can probably escape once before they lock me up in some high-security place.”

Chatter should follow up, your mouth running at a thousand miles per hour to fill the lull, go off on a tangent that makes no sense, but you stay quiet. He can feel how tense you are, breathing shallow and subdued. The reasonable part of his mind chalks it up to vulnerability issues, clamming up as if you’ve talked too much already. You never really share anything about yourself that’s not ‘useless intel’, according to Waller. The screwed up and emotional part of his mind follows up with she trusts you, your feelings are reciprocated, say yes, say yes, say yes and despite his best effort to not listen to that part of himself, he can’t stop himself from replying in the kindest tone he can manage.

“Sure, sweetheart.” Where the fuck does that come from? “I’ll come with you.”

It’s dark as shit and he can’t see you, but he knows you’re smiling, beaming like a star. He hopes he can see it in the sunlight tomorrow, standing in the rubbles of Jötunheim.

---

“Get the fuck away from him!”

You smash something against Peacemaker’s head, knocking him to the side and don’t give him a chance to get back up, stabbing him all over and turning him into a fountain piece of blood, mangled and ugly. The asshole barely has time to gurgle out anything before the light disappears from his eyes. Good fucking riddance.

You’re drenched in blood, clothes red and speckles of it splattered into your hair, a few dots on your face. He can smell it on your hands—the disgustingly familiar copper stench—when you cup his face, asking him to focus and not go towards the white light. The sheer absurdity of that comment makes him laugh, then regret it. Abdominal muscles are half-dead in pain and you’re so warm that he wants to go to sleep. Fuck the mission and fuck everything. Just want to be near you.

Your arms wind around his neck, bringing his head to lay on your chest and it hurts because he’s most definitely broken at least two or three ribs, but he can’t reject you when you’re whispering oh thank god you’re alright, I was so scared, I was so, so scared fervently next to his ear, squeezing him like he’s going to turn into bubbles and slip right out of your grasp. It’s a moment, just you and him, breathing together, the sounds of the tower collapsing far in the background and barely noticeable.

Liquid slides down the side of his neck and you’re crying, streaks of salty tears clearing up the dust coated on your face. Oh, you’re so pretty. You look like a dream, made for him. His lips slip over yours before you have the chance to hug him again, and even with the broken bones and aching muscles and the tonnes of concrete above them ready to fall any second, he thinks everything will be alright.

---

It’s a house in the middle of nowhere. Oddly picturesque; white picket fence, olden style structure, front and back garden with overgrown weeds. Kind of dilapidated, understandable seeing as you haven’t visited here in some time. Has that 70’s vibe, or the 60’s. He doesn’t really know. You introduce him to Wilbur, who’s still alive somehow. He’s as confused as you are but doesn’t push it, remarking that you deserved another miracle. You giggle and agree, hugging him tightly. He winds an arm around you as well. It feels right.

He doesn’t really understand what happens after that. He was cleaning up dinner—fast food on the couch, legs tangled together, you occasionally feeding him bites of your burger, nibbling into his—and you appeared out of nowhere, bringing him down by the collars and smashing your lips onto his. Salty from the chips and plush to his chapped ones, parting open to shove your tongue into his mouth, sucking on his and god it’s filthy and your saliva is getting everywhere but that just makes it hotter. His eyelids are drooping as he gets drunk on the feeling, barely registering you pushing him down onto the creaky sofa and straddling him.

He’s already half hard from the makeout when you take him out, white liquid pearling on the tip. A throaty groan leaves him when you clench your fist around him, jerking him up and down while pressing your thumb against the underside, specifically a vein that’s way too sensitive and makes his arms all wobbly. You seem to like that, licking your lips while peering down at him, replacing your digits with the smooth flesh of your thighs, signing his death warrant.

It feels way too good, almost criminal, and he’s well on his way to a climax when you shuck off your pants, discard your panties and seat himself in you with one stroke. A choked gasp explodes out of the both of you, forehead pushing against each other, trying to grab onto something, anything, to ground yourselves. You choose his shoulder, he chooses your hips.

You’re so warm. Almost hot. Almost scorching and binding around him, such a stark difference to your cold and sweating skin. You both stay still for a moment, feeling like you would combust at the smallest twitch or shift.

He wants to pound into you, snap his hips up until the bones connect and he breaks you open, carve his territory inside your welcoming pussy. It would be so easy, so so easy. But the tremors in your hands grasping onto his shirt, the rapid fluttering of your eyelids, the muted chant of his name on your tongue. They make him want to cherish this moment. Make it unforgettable for both you and him, so that when you go out into the world to steal and kill and maim and be left alone, you’ll at least have this one night’s memory of him worshipping your body, and he would have the sensation of your walls around his cock and the feeling of your gasps grazing on his skin when he’s stuck halfway around the world in a shitty cabin.

So he changes his rhythm. The thought of punching a hole through your insides replaced with the thought to massage them, slowly but surely to leave the imprint of his cock inside you. You turn into a mess of limbs and moans and drool, cheek on his chest and unmoving. He has to pull you back and slant his mouth against yours to muffle the squeals that rip out of you with each languid thrust, each jolt of his waist to yours.

You’re so reactive, shivering and contracting at his every whisper, every kiss, every skimming of fingers across your skin. Then he says ‘you’re so tight around me, I love it’ and you beam through your addled brain, probably like that night before the mission, maybe even wider. It’s so pure and sincere that he halts to a stop, lungs squeezing through his ribcage at the sharp inhale, trying to stop his chest from caving in at how utterly cute you are. You’re a serial killer and a master thief with a body count in double digits and so goddamn precious.

“Sweetheart, you’re taking me so well, good girl, good girl.” He’s almost babbling at this point, voice deep and husky and filled with desperation, sprouting anything and everything to see that smile again, to make his heart feel full knowing he’s the reason for it. “Baby, look at me? C’mon, pretty, look at me.” Your eyes connect with his for a fraction of a second, the bursting of a supernova within each of your dilating pupils, then they disappear as you keen, convulsing around him, pushing him to his end as well. Ropes of cum spill inside as he slumps against you, breathing haggard and sweating all over.

You’re already drifting away on top of him, your sex covered with his seeds and soaking into the cheap fabric of the couch. He should move. Get out of you, clean you up, tuck you into bed and make sure you don’t have stiff joints tomorrow morning, open a window or something because the whole house reeks of sex now. He should very much move.

But you whine when he tries to slip out, face digging deeper into his shirt and legs clamping around his waist. Like a koala or a panda or something equally cute but also hot.

The clean-up can probably wait until tomorrow morning.

[is-the-owl-video-cute]

If you actually look at agro’s “zoophilia tw” tag you’d see nothing but them talking about bestiality being bad. Not to mention that post literally says that including therians as animals bc they identify as such “does not condone bestiality”.

I really shouldn’t be surprised tho considering y’all think writing a story about a bad thing is the same as wanting the bad thing to happen. I genuinely want to know your opinion on public libraries & how they’ll just put anything on their shelves, regardless of how immoral it is

I think my favorite are the anons who just completely assume what my stance is on things.

The idea that people are saying “oh if it happen in book it as bad as if real” is completely unfounded. That was never the argument. If you find someone saying that, I can almost promise you it’s going to be a sock puppet or an actual child.

What people like me ARE saying is that there is no moral justification to allow and offer erotica to pedophiles or zoophiles. Child and animal molestations are very real and very serious, do you actually see value in encouraging the sexualization of minors and animals?

By the logic of “oh it’s just pictures or writing who cares no kids or animals were touched” then would you also have no qualms with photos of naked children sold to pedophiles? If the child was simply naked and never actually touched or aware of anything bad happening, by your logic there is nothing wrong with that, but it is still classified as child pornography because it is being used to sexualize children and as a society it is pretty generally understood that this is dangerous and evidence of someone either being an active predator or soon to become one.

And don’t try to say “oh that’s different because in fanfiction and lolicon no children are involved at all” because it isn’t true. If that were the case, I would not be able to go to AO3 and point to the piles of nsfw rpf about child celebrities, youtube personalities, etc. I would not be able to find Hentai of real-world minors in almost any fandom that has live action actors. But I can find that, I wouldn’t even have to look. Before the nsfw tumblr ban, I could barely go to any tags on this site without finding people sexualizing the kids from IT 2017 or Stranger Things. People shipped them, wrote rpf smut, drew porn, everything. Anyone who said “hey this is incredibly disturbing not to mention illegal in the US where this site is hosted” was just “a dumb anti” and chastised for censorship or whatever.

I don’t care that Lolita exists. I am actually a fan of dark fiction and horror. I have written it, I have drawn it. One of my favorite shows was Breaking Bad, and that isn’t exactly sunshine and rainbows. I even liked Game of Thrones when it first came out. I do not have a problem with dark, disturbing, or heavy content in fiction. I have a problem with this content being sexualized, romanticized, and glamorized. I am sorry that you think Boku no Pico was a deep and coveted story that deserves to be preserved in public libraries, but your thoughts are not universal.

Tangent over, if you take nothing from this I would at least like to circle back to the fact that using “umm, actually—“ logic to insist that saying “zoophiles dni” is oppressive to therians is absolutely an insane point to make. If you’re going to willingly call yourself a zoophile, sure, but don’t expect normal people to react warmly to that. Elbowing your way into the zoophile community and dragging therians down with you is truly unhinged behavior and absolutely does make it look like you just want to molest dogs.

[weebsontherun]

Yandere! Obey Me! Characters (part 2)

Warning: Degrading, manipulation, abuse of power, insults, violence, possessiveness, threats, kidnapping, suggestive words, toxic relationship, god complex, and mindless devotion

This is a part 2 to one of my other works. You can find it here. (That one has the 7 brothers) The characters in this one are Diavolo, Solomon, Simeon, and Barbatos (no luke for this one)

Diavolo:

He’s the prince. He can practically do what he wants

As soon as he feels your love for him is threatened, he pounces.

He’ll demand for you to be taken away from Lucifer and the rest

He’ll ban you from going to any of your classes, and instead spend the rest of your day in his castle.

He’d hate to do it, but if he has to cause you pain. He’ll cause you pain

“Don’t make me break your bones Y/N. You’re more than cute, but I won’t stand for you being a brat.” “Do you enjoy making me angry? Trying to escape...Who do you think will help you? Everyone knows my authority, you’d just waste your precious breath.”

He even hates the thought of you being around barbatos for too long

Yet he still has the sweet heart side of him. Regularly giving you gifts, desserts, and his praise.

He’ll let you do anything you desire. It’ll be a win win if your desire includes him (wink wink nudge nudge)

He knows it’s unhealthy. And when you tell him you want to leave, he almost breaks out of his daydream of the two of you being together

But he will never let you go

You’re going to have to deal with it.

Solomon:

Your fantasy, is his fantasy.

He’ll make sure your wishes are fulfilled. Doesn’t matter who or what he has to mow down to indulge with you.

He’ll even use magic to let you enjoy your fantasy.

“Your dreams will become a reality. You’re greatest wishes are mine. Just promise me one thing. You’ll stay with me for all of eternity.”

He doesn’t mind what you do to him in that fantasy. Break him down, insult him, use his body, destroy his mindset, make him go insane, he doesn’t care. As long as you stay by his side, he’ll feel complete.

He’d love to dance with you in your fantasy.

If you do wish to stay in reality, he’ll still let you talk to others. He’ll become jealous, but he won’t hurt the people you talk to.

If you text him or ask for him to come to you, he’ll drop everything that he has. Doesn’t matter if he’s in the middle of a spell, battle, or class. He will walk away and come find you.

He truly does feel as if your relationship is healthy.

No matter what you do to him, he’ll find it true love.

“What’s love without sacrifice?”

Simeon:

I don’t know why...But I feel like he has a savior complex

He slowly pull you alway from everyone around you, calling them dirty sinners.

He’ll shower you in his own love, telling you that you don’t need any other person

If you even try to talk to someone else and he finds out, he’ll ‘save’ you.

He’ll pour hot holly water on a part they touched you at (he’ll microwave the holly water to make it hot)

“Those dirty sinners. They’ve dirtied your body. Here, let me purify you.”

After purify you, he’ll kiss the place he burned. And with one kiss, the pain will fade away.

If he doesn’t think that will work, he’ll turn to other measures. He’ll run his hands all over your body with a few kisses. He’ll take in every movement you make. Taking in everything you like and don’t like. If you allow him, he’ll want to get a little more physical. But he’ll only do it if you say you want it or if you agree to it. (we love a man that asks for consent ^^. Though, I do think all the characters would as for consent in Obey Me)

Other than that, I think he’d be a sweet heart. He generally just wants to touch you and make you feel good.

“Do you enjoy this? I can keep doing this if you need me to....I don’t mind. ^^”

He’s most likely make runs for you frequently. Getting you everything you need so you don’t have to.

“Ive got it for you sweet heart. You don’t have to do anything.”

Barbatos:

Treats you like a god.

Rarely has to be around from you because he can just make any food you ask for. But, at times, he’ll of have to go get ingredients.

He’ll eventually get used to you hanging around with other people. Especially Diavolo.

He’ll probably request for you to live with him and the prince.

Regularly checks on you. He’ll ask how you’ve been, if you’ve had any disturbance, and how your classes have been

Probably reads you books before you go to bed. He’d most likely join you in bed too.

“Here, let me read you a book. Just sit back and relax. If you need anything before this book, please request it now....Alright then. Let’s start the book.”

He wouldn’t find it hard to take care of you. If he is able to take care of the prince, he won’t find it hard to add you too.

Diavolo would most likely catch on to how clingy he is to you. Barbatos would brush it off as nothing, yet he’d suspect anyone around you.

“Hey...Is there anyone that you think like you? I mean, we’re clearly very close. And no one else should try to get in the way of our relationship. So I’d hope you’d cut off anyone that would try to hurt our bond.”

[astranva]

Dont be shy tell us

it’s not finished, we still haven’t come up with names but the plot we have for pe!reader’s movie with henry cavill so far is:

[trigger warning: death, psychotic behavior]

the movie starts with a young girl in a counsellor’s office, who’s telling her that she can’t understand emotions. she’s sitting there with no care.

the movie then shifts to show pe!reader, ironing her clothes, looking all put-together and completely normal. she makes her coffee, has her breakfast and sets off for her day. she works as a primary school teacher.

we see her looking kind, throwing “good morning”s to colleagues and having that damn charming smile she’s so known for.

kids love her. she’s a good teacher.

we first see it when a young brunette girl appears, hugging pe!reader’s waist; she grimaced, stiffened and her smile fell before she forced it.

the little girl absolutely loves her, she tells her about her day and about the new show her dad has allowed her to watch.

who’s the dad? henry cavill. he’s a single dad after his short-term girlfriend gave birth to their daughter and told him that she didn’t want to be a mom and left them for good.

the movie follows pe!reader throughout her day, and it isn’t until she’s alone that we actually see her.

“stupid fucking little shits,” she frowns, nursing herself a glass, “my daddy got me a new toy,” she mimics, “the fuck do i care?”

it’s at night when she’s sleeping that we hear a dog bark, and her eyes open. it’s not her dog. it’s the neighbor’s cute golden retriever. so casually, and without much thought, we see her putting some leftover food in a disposable plate before she pops in two sleeping pills, and she walks outside and calls the dog over and lets it eat before she walks back home with the plate to throw it there.

she gets her sleep. and so does the dog, though, much, much more deeply (doesn’t die).

it’s parent-teacher meeting day and this is when pe!reader and henry meet.

she’s so fucking charming because she’s so fucking manipulative. she’s cute yet hot, she knows exactly what to say and knows exactly how to tease without being so direct about it. she’s just insane at it. and henry falls for it. he’s smitten, and that’s when the chase begins.

one thing about her is that she doesn’t lose. it’s not an option, and she’d do absolutely anything to win. there’s no backstory, no traumas, she’s just like that.

it’s the following day that the neighbor’s dog keeps barking again. and she’s had enough. she changes her clothes, we see her grabbing a knife and her car keys and she goes outside.

she calls for the dog through the short fence and being a friendly dog, it goes to her and she gets it to go in her car.

“i have work tomorrow,” she says, “and it sucks that you can’t let me fucking rest.”

she makes sure she’s far away enough before she stops the car and gets out with the dog, “is it true you always find your way back home?” she asks, sighing as she grabs her knife, “i can’t afford losing more sleep.”

yeah. she kills it, drives back home and goes to sleep.

back to henry; making excuses to see her, sending his daughter with homework questions because “daddy couldn’t get it”, picking his daughter up from school despite there being a school bus are all things henry does to talk to pe!reader, and she knows all about it.

we then move to him running into her as she runs in the morning on a weekend, and he finally gets to convince her to have coffee with him. they go there, and you’d be surprised at how attractive she is. like we all would do anything for her at this point.

anyways, fast forward, they get together and at first, things are going well but you can always see how angry she gets when his daughter goes anywhere near her or talks to her. and it’s one night when pe!reader goes to his daughter’s room, that we all get goosebumps:

“you’re not going to tell anyone about daddy and i, are we clear?” she asks and although her voice is steady, it’s exactly that that intimidates everyone.

fast forwarding a little, his daughter is becoming a competition.

he’s cancelled a date for her, he has stopped mid-make out to tend to his daughter, he’s been talking too much about her stupid play. she hates it and that’s when she begins absolutely traumatizing the kid.

spreading rumors about her through kids (“*henry’s kid’s name* told me you had funny hair but i don’t think so, i think it looks great” and then gaslight the kid by saying she didn’t say anything and that it was impolite to talk to her like that) that make the kid a target to bullies, gutting a bird and leaving it in her backpack, making her fail exams, etc.

and she looks so innocent and kind in front of henry, too. like she’s just so damn good at it, like she’d go to him one day and be like “i’m a little worried about her. maybe she needs a break, you know?” and she convinces him to have his daughter stay at his mom’s for a week or so.

that’s what my best friend and i came up with so far, we’re still working on the climax, a good fight scene, and the ending but one thing i know is that she won’t die at the end nor will she get imprisoned. she’ll get away with it all like nothing ever happened

[plsimsuchasimp]

cheating.

part 2 here

Ft: Suna Rintarou x !gn reader, a little bit of atsumu miya x !gn reader

Genre/warnings: one (1) curse word, cheating, brief implied sex, angst, hurt/comfort, fighting

Wc: 1.8k

NOT PROOFREAD!

a/n: i’m so sorry for this angst but i had to do it for y’all... didn’t have it in me to write a happy ending, maybe later.

The rain was pouring down, clattering against the roof of the gym. You, sitting against the wall in a corner by the benches, watched Suna’s team play, smiling slightly at the way they seemed to seamlessly move together. Your boyfriend looked concentrated, green eyes flickering from one player to another. 

His phone buzzed beside you, and you picked it up, intending to set it to Do Not Disturb so you could do work, but the notification caught your eye. 

“Hey!” It read, “it was so good to meet you >;) you made me feel good <3″

Instantly, your heart drops into your stomach. Silently willing for the notification to disappear, your eyes cling to the screen as yet another popped up. “I miss you babe, we should do that again”

Your eyes begin to burn, trying to deny the obvious truth of what you saw in front of you. Suna Rintarou had cheated on you, and from the looks of it, with a stranger. You swallow, hard, as the lump in your throat grows and tears begin to form in your eyes. No wonder he’d been overly affectionate in the past week, he probably felt guilty.

What hurt most wasn’t that he didn’t tell you, pretended that everything was fine; no, it was the realization that you just weren’t enough for him. All the time you’d spent on him, everything you’d done, the words of confirmation and the countless amount of love and affection you’d given him, it all wasn’t good enough. 

You were bad enough for him to seek loving in a stranger’s arms.

Clicking the phone off, you put it down and stared into space for a moment, fighting the tears that threatened to spill onto your cheeks at any second. Practice was wrapping up, and you couldn’t face Suna right now. Luckily for you, he was on cleanup duty this week, so he had to stay late. 

Trying to shake the rigidity out of your limbs, you gathered your things and stuffed them into your bag, not taking the time to organize them so they all fit. Head down, you headed for the door, hoping that Suna wouldn’t look over. Opening the door, you were faced with another harsh realization: It was raining and Suna was supposed to drive you home. That wasn’t happening today, for sure. Glancing around, you spotted Atsumu pulling his umbrella out of his bag, and rushed over to him.

“Hey Atsumu,” you said, attempting to keep your voice steady, “Can I catch a ride with you?” He was going to ask why, when Suna had a perfectly good car, but then he caught a glimpse of the tear streaking silently down your face and decided it might be better to wait until later.

Unusually serious, he agreed and put a comforting hand on the small of your back as you two hurried out of the door under his umbrella. Opening his car door for you, he let you in and then went over to the driver’s side, sliding in and turning on the car so it would warm up. 

Stealing the occasional look at you, he noticed you were shaking and turned up the heat in the car although he was warm from volleyball practice. He started driving, sensing that you didn’t want to talk. Jaw clenched, he drove in silence for a couple minutes, then dared to speak.

“Hey, are you okay?” Hearing sniffles from your side of the car and seeing your shoulders shake, he pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. Gulping, he awkwardly reached out a hand to pat you on the back, but this only made you cry harder.

Looking up to face him, tear streaks staining your cheeks, you tried to stop shivering from shock. “S-Suna,” you mumbled, fighting to keep your voice from completely breaking, but another sob escaped before you could get anything more out.

“Wha’? Suna what?” he prodded, brow furrowing in concern. You rarely cried, so he knew this was something really serious.

“Suna c-cheated on me.” The last couple of words were whispered, your voice breaking, and Atsumu’s mouth dropped open. Of all the things he’d expected to hear, it wasn’t that. Your relationship with Suna had always seemed perfect. He’d seen the way Suna looked at you, his eyes soft, seen the way his behavior changed around you, seen his eyes light up whenever you smiled. This wasn’t possible.

He opened his mouth, shutting it again when words failed him. You were hunched in the passenger’s seat, shaking so hard he could hear your elbows accidentally hitting the car door. Without a second thought, he took his sweatshirt off and covered you with it, hoping that it would warm you up at least a little bit. 

“I- I’m so sorry,” he muttered, unsure how to comfort a clearly distraught you. As soon as your shudders subsided, his mind turned to Suna and what he would do next time he saw him. No doubt he deserved to be beat up for what he did to you, hurting you like that, but it just didn’t make sense. Suna was totally in love with you, and it was obvious to any outsider. 

He started the car again, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. “Y/N, I’m gonna drop ya off at home, okay?”

A quick nod from you reassured him, and you two drove with just the raindrops crashing down on the roof of the car. When you arrived at your house, you made a motion to give back his sweatshirt, but he just waved a hand and said “Don’t worry about it. Ya can return it to me when I next see ya.” Your lips trembled and you turned away from him, making the way to your door and letting yourself in. He didn’t leave until he saw that you were inside, then started driving back to the gym.

You shed your jacket and turned on the heater in your house, not bothering to turn on the lights or draw the curtains. Kicking your shoes off, you crawled into bed and under your blanket and let the tears come, hugging the pillow that smelled too much like Suna.

Meanwhile at the gym, Suna was just finishing up and wondering where you’d gone to. The guilt of his mistake still hung with him, and he was looking to take you out to dinner tonight and spend some more time with you. However, when he saw his phone laying faceup, the bold words in text still plainly on the screen, he knew that you’d found out, and his heart contracted. Sinking to his knees, he struggled to breathe through the upcoming panic. He was in love with you, and he had no idea what had possessed him to fall into someone else’s arms for the night.

The feeling surged when he remembered that one of your biggest fears/insecurities was not being good enough, and a short gasp fell out of his mouth as he realized just how much he’d messed up. The gym door swung open, banging against the wall with the sheer force of the push. There stood Miya Atsumu, a murderous expression on his face.

“Suna!” He barked, and the middle blocker glanced up briefly before returning his attention to the phone clutched in his hands, frantically pressing the call button as it once again went straight to voicemail. The sound of your voice was almost too much for him to bear, his breathing accelerating and his head pounding. 

y/n please pick up please i’m so sorry i swear i didn’t mean it they mean nothing to me i love you i love you so much please don’t leave me

His fingers speed across the keyboard, hoping against hope that you’ll talk to him. Any sort of contact. The phone is suddenly knocked from his hand by Atsumu, the look on his face nothing short of furious. 

“What the fuck were ya thinking?” He spits, rage evident in the bulging veins of his neck. “You hurt y/n so badly that they had to drive home with me rather than face another second of ya.”

His words stung Suna, because they both knew they were true. He doesn’t resist when Atsumu pulls him to his feet, glaring at him and shoving him towards the wall. 

“You’re pathetic. Y/N is the best person ya will ever meet, and ya ruined it all.” Once again, Suna doesn’t reciprocate, his eyes falling miserably to the ground. Atsumu’s fist comes up and hits Suna straight in the stomach, forcing the breath out of his lungs as he collapses to the floor. Atsumu looks at him with an expression of pure disgust, walking away to leave Suna where he is, slumped against the wall.

His eyes are dull, the life drained out of them, because he knows Atsumu is right. A notification causes his phone to buzz and he picks it up immediately, hoping to see anything from you, but it’s just another text from the fling. Hatred for himself and the person fills him, and he slams his phone down, allowing his head to sink into his knees. 

He needs to see you, so he grabs his stuff and rushes to his car, barely remembering to lock the gym on his way out. Going ten miles above the speed limit, he makes it to your house ten minutes after you had. 

Walking up to your front door, he knocks urgently, over and over again. He hears shuffling from behind, and the door opens to reveal you in an oversize sweatshirt that doesn’t belong to him and sweatpants, eyes red and puffy from crying. 

The instant you see him, time seems to stop. The hurt is written all over your face, and the regret all over his. He can’t seem to move, can’t do anything besides whisper your name.

“Y/N.” 

You shake your head, new tears forming in the corners of your eyes, and turn away. “I don’t want to talk to you, Suna.” 

With those words, his heart shatters a little bit more. He was your Rin, your Rinnie, never Suna. “Please-” the door slams in his face and he hears the lock turning, signaling the final goodbye. He screams, pounding on your door as the panic overtakes him. 

“Please! I love you! I’m so sorry, just please don’t leave me! I’ll go insane if you do!” Tears stream down his face and yours, mourning each other on opposite sides of the door. His words wrack you, tempt you to open the door and forgive him, but you can’t. He already showed you he didn’t care.

Half an hour passes, with the yells from the door fading into whimpers. Finally, you hear a car door slam, and you allow yourself to sob, held immobile on the floor. 

You’re broken, and it’s his fault. His head falls onto the steering wheel, not caring that it sets off the car horn.

Still, the rain patters on the roof, both of you less than three hundred feet apart, but forever separated.

He’ll never love anyone like he loved you.

[robininthelabyrinth]

Prompt: NMJ gets caught in a time loop that makes him repeatedly relive the day Meng Yao leaves for Langya, until he realizes that it's a bad idea and stops him from going?

Time Loop - ao3

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes in the morning and sat up with a yawn, mind already racing ahead to his tasks for the day: getting in some morning saber practice, working on a giant pile of sect business and even more giant pile of work related to the war, making time to write a letter scolding Nie Huaisang (for what, yet to be determined, but inevitable – if he didn’t, Nie Huaisang would complain of neglect), trying to find a replacement deputy (or seven) to do the work Meng Yao did now that he’d headed off to the Jin sect…

There was a lot to do, and even less time to do it in – and moping about it would only make it build up even more. Nie Mingjue sighed and swung his legs to the side, intending to get up and get started right away.

He stopped as soon as he saw the calendar on his desk.

It was the wrong date.

Now, there were two possible reasons for this. The first was, of course, that he’d simply forgotten to mark the day as completed on his calendar yesterday evening, even though that was generally the very last thing he did before bed and longstanding habit had trained him to have trouble falling asleep if he didn’t do it.

They said forgetfulness was one of the first signs of mental decline.

Easy enough to check, though.

He got up and walked to the tent door, cracking it open. “Hey, you,” Nie Mingjue said to one of the guards going by on patrol. “Where’s Meng Yao?”

“I believe at this hour, Viceroy Meng would be checking over the supplies,” the guard said. “Would you like me to call him?”

“Mm,” Nie Mingjue said, because that wasn’t definitive; the guard didn’t know for certain, and he might just be making an assumption based on past precedent. “What about Lan Xichen?”

“Sect Leader Lan hasn’t yet arrived – I believe he’s due in for later today, closer to noon. Did you want –”

“No, I don’t want anything,” Nie Mingjue said, deeply relieved to have identified that he had not, in fact, forgotten to fill out his calendar. “I’m stuck in a time loop.”

“…ah,” the guard said, looking taken aback – he must be new to Qinghe, like many of the cultivators in the army. Like Meng Yao, for that matter. “Is that…bad?”

“No, it’s fantastic. I’m going back to sleep. No one is to bother me all day.”

“But – Sect Leader Lan –”

“Meng Yao can host him,” Nie Mingjue decided. He’d write out Meng Yao’s recommendation letter, put a big red mark on the calendar right now just to make sure he didn’t forget, and go back to sleep for the entire day like he hadn’t done in what must be literal years. “Like I said: don’t bother me.”

-

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes in the morning and sat up with a yawn. He looked at his calendar.

No big red mark.

“Fantastic,” he said, and went back to bed.

-

He slept for four days.

-

“Sect Leader Nie?” Meng Yao said, poking his head in. “Sect Leader Lan is – I’m sorry, are you painting?”

“I haven’t had time for it in ages,” Nie Mingjue said, scowling at the paper. “You know, I thought he was just trying to get out of practice, but actually Huaisang’s right. It really does require quite a lot of dexterity.”

Meng Yao opened his mouth, then closed it again.

After a few more moments, he asked, voice very cautious, “Are you painting a battlefield map?”

Nie Mingjue stopped, appalled. “Is that what it looks like?” he asked. “I was trying for a beaver. You know, the small furry swimming mammal from Xinjiang.”

“No, it looks like a beaver,” Meng Yao said, though now Nie Mingjue wasn’t sure if he believed him or not. “I just thought it might be some sort of – code. Maybe.”

Nie Mingjue conceded that this made sense, given what he was normally like. “No, no code,” he said. “Just a beaver. Thought it’d make for a funny fan painting to give to Huaisang.”

“I see,” Meng Yao said, and seemed to struggle internally for a moment.

“Is this about Xichen’s visit?” Nie Mingjue asked. “You can just show him around yourself if you like. I’ll see him tomorrow, should it ever come.”

“…right,” Meng Yao said. “I’ll – do that.”

“If you want a recommendation to leave to join the Jin sect, you can pick it up on the desk on your way out,” Nie Mingjue said, already turning back to his painting. “Have fun, good luck, kill Wen-dogs. The usual.”

Meng Yao didn’t say anything, just bowed. His expression was very strange.

-

Turned out that painting was a lot harder to accomplish when your supposed ‘friends’ kept trying to spring unwanted and unnecessary medical interventions on you.

Ugh.

-

Actually, that Song of Clarity shit from round 13 seemed really helpful? He’d have to look more into that.

-

Apparently, reading novels was even more concerning than painting.

What, like he wasn’t allowed to have hobbies? What else were time loops for if not to catch a break, damnit?

-

“Oh all right,” Nie Mingjue said, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’ll fix the time loop.”

“You’d better,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing his eyes and yawning. “What in the world did you do to freak them out at the crack of dawn such that they flew all the way to get me and back before it reset?”

“Uh,” Nie Mingjue said. “Nothing.”

“Did it involve sex?”

“No comment.”

“Did you forget that they’d reset when you woke up?”

“No comment.”

“Just fix the damn time loop, da-ge.”

“That sounds like someone who is not getting a beaver fan.”

“…beaver? Fan? For me? Wait, did you paint it? Da-ge! I want it! No, don’t go to sleep, I want to keep -”

-

“Please sit down,” Nie Mingjue said to Lan Xichen and Meng Yao. “I’m going to need your help on a strategic question of great importance.”

“Anything we can do to help, of course,” Lan Xichen said, and Meng Yao nodded.

“I’m always at your service, Sect Leader,” he said.

“Good,” Nie Mingjue said. “Now – what do you know about time loops?”

-

It took about five days, but he finally managed to figure out how to word the explanation so that it only took as long as a cup of tea to explain and got them to believe him without immediately deciding that he was insane. At that point, they were able to finally start seriously brainstorming solutions.

“We just need to figure out what it is that went wrong and fix it?” Meng Yao asked, sounding dubious. “What is considered ‘wrong’ in this context?”

“Things resulting in massive amounts of death, usually? Sometimes your own.” Nie Mingjue shrugged. “It’s a matter of fate, a natural opportunity to avert disaster; you only encounter one when you’re very lucky. Otherwise do you think my father would’ve died the way he did?”

“…an excellent point,” Lan Xichen said, grimacing. “Very well, let’s make a list of all the things you did, play out the possible consequences to see which ones could potentially result in disaster, and then you can try to change them one at a time.”

“Worth a shot,” Nie Mingjue said.

-

“Good morning, Sect Leader,” Meng Yao said, saluting. “What do you need me for this early? Sect Leader Lan has not yet arrived.”

“I need to talk to you about your future,” Nie Mingjue said. “And what you hope to get out of it.”

Meng Yao straightened his back and blinked owlishly, looking wary. “What do you mean, Sect Leader?”

“You want to go rejoin the Jin sect, don’t you? To earn a position with your father?”

Meng Yao blanched. “Sect Leader –”

“It’s a perfectly reasonable ambition to have,” Nie Mingjue assured him. “Unfortunately, I don’t think a letter of recommendation from me will cut it. I’m too young, and one of his rivals; Jin Guangshan doesn’t give me face – and what will you do if he sidelines you and puts you under someone awful to suppress all your achievements? Wouldn’t it be as good as throwing away your life, ruining your best chance for success?”

Meng Yao frowned. Nie Mingjue was pleased to see it was having an impact: he’d consulted Meng Yao the day before on precisely what wording to use, since his own versions were having no luck.

“I have no objection to your ultimate goal,” Nie Mingjue said. “But we’re going to need to be a bit more clever about it. When Xichen gets here, we’ll put our heads together and think about what we can do to make it impossible for your father to reject you. How does that sound?”

Meng Yao swallowed. “Thank you, Sect Leader,” he said, his voice low and sounding, if anything, a little touched. “I – appreciate it.”

“Good,” Nie Mingjue said, and put a red mark on his calendar. “Also, there’s another issue to discuss involving yourself and Xichen –”

-

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes in the morning and sat up with a yawn. He looked at his calendar.

There was a big red mark.

“Oh good,” he said, and turned around and laid back down.

“What’s good?” Lan Xichen muttered into his collarbone. “Mmm, A-Jue, no, don’t lie down. It’s time to get up.”

“It is not,” Meng Yao said from the other side. “It’s time to sleep in.”

“Listen to Meng Yao,” Nie Mingjue said, settling his arms around him. “The world can wait a little more.”

“It really can’t, though,” Meng Yao said with a sigh, rubbing his eyes and starting to sit up, which was obviously the wrong move. “We’re in the middle of a war, and we all have important things to do today.”

“That’s true,” Nie Mingjue said, a little reluctantly. “I owe Huaisang a beaver.”

Meng Yao blinked.

Lan Xichen blinked.

“…it’s a long story.”

[husbandohunter]

Dottore with short drabble “You only ever brought me pain and I’m sick of it.”

Something angsty pls? Thank you!

Tainted Glass [Dottore x Reader/Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: Can you escape the prison you made?

(A twisted Cinderella story. The girl was covered in cinders because she was fatally addicted to drowning in flames.)

Warnings: angst, emotional abuse, violence, death

(A/n): To be honest anon, I didn’t know what the word ‘drabble’ means until I googled it. I uh...hope you don’t mind the length :> 

-----------------------

You fell back against the cold hard floor with your arms bent and head turned sideways. The stinging pain spreads across your cheek. It burns. But your mind was still trying to register what had just came into fruition. 

Why?

The thought was so foreign somehow as if you could hardly believe he was doing this. But then the scene plays in your head again. You froze, your gaze enlarged and clueless while staring at the pale ground as it slowly begins to darken in the seeping movement of his menacing, haunting shadow. 

"Insolent woman, you wretch!" He spat in a disgusted tone, "How dare you speak to me in such demanding manner? Have I already told you, only talk when you have something important to say?"

You didn't respond, rather you merely let the strands fall in front of your vision as you gingerly pressed your hand against the place where he hit you. 

I…don't quite understand…

Dottore glowers down at your hunched form. He was never a man known for the virtue of patience. This man, the one who calls him your husband, you learned a long time ago to not meet his eyes as they would signal a hint of dominance amidst his authority, especially during moments like these. You came to feel his eyes instead, they were usually intense and full of wrath, sometimes crazed and curious while looking at his finest creations. He always loved experimenting in his labratory. After all, it was the only thing that could truly make the madman smile.

What is it that I'm missing? Where did I go wrong?

And you would do anything to obtain at least a fraction of the love he had left in his heart. 

He marches onward with heavy footsteps, paying no mind to your well-being, "Tch get out of my sight. I don't have the time to entertain with anymore these theatrics."

At the sound of him leaving you darted your attention towards him, "Wait, come back. Come back, " you plea softly, "Hector…" But he ignores your call. The back of your fiance disappears behind the door and slams it with a resounding thud. He was gone. You couldn't save him.

"No," As a result, you burried your face into your palms and cried.

“I'm sorry.”

…

What is love?

Being raised in one of the most prestigious bloodlines of Fontaine, a life filled with riches since your parents were well known scholars throughout Teyvat, they provided you and your family with everything you needed. From exquisite dishes to priceless jewelry, yet even among those riches you never did find an answer to your question. They were tangibles and short-lasting, eventually leaving you with nothing until the glass of your heart was filled empty. They seemed to have cared more about their fortune along with the brightest child of their family line, your brother, a male heir, someone who fulfilled their expectations where you couldn't do so. And because he was able to give them what they wanted, he was loved.

I see, love is conditional.

Realizing that you possessed no talent to achieve what your brother had accomplished, you came to accept that you were undeserving of their love. Love was for the smart. Love was for the gifted.  Love was for everything you are not. There was no place for your kind and thus you locked yourself up in your bedroom chambers along with your fragile heart where no one would try to find you, picking up the books upon the shelves and getting lost in their fantasies. 

They told you many beautiful things about the world and many reasons why it was so tragic. Because they weren't real. The story begins with a princess who was a kind-hearted soul, deprived from the care of her evil stepmother and dreams of marrying a prince from a land far far away. They often end on a happily ever after with the princes finding her one true love. You've never seen anything like it. Where two people, despite the struggles they went through, loved each other unconditionally.

Unconditional love only exists in dreams.

Or so you thought to believe.

One day a man marched right at the doorsteps of your mansion. He was a student coming all the way from Sumeru Academia and had high hopes of building a business partnership with your father. The man was declined of course, you watched from the garden bushes as he was sent off back into his carriage. He stops abruptly and turns his head ajar to catch your figure, his inquisitive eyes were both striking and sharp. Like thorns of a rose that was ready to prick anyone who dares to come close. Even so, they made a very lasting impression.

Red eyes.

It was the first time that someone had looked your way.

Couple of months later, the government had arranged a grand ball where all nobles would gather and commit to building their social circle. Useless events. There was no reason for you to engage. While your parents were occupied with the latest gossips and your brother surrounded by fathers who were eager to marry their daughters to him, you snuck outside to the balcony and hid away from the crowd. Quiet at last. And as things should be. The moon was your only friend because she was just like you; half empty. Maybe that was why you still had a glimmer of hope for the other half to be filled. 

Part white, you inquired, pristine and untainted. From far away it looked similar to snow. 

"My, how pleasantly surprising."

While the other part was stained with black cinders.

You glanced over your shoulder to see a man leaning against the pillar. His mint coloured bangs were slicked back in a trendy fashion, complimenting the white suit he adorned himself with. The golden chains hanging around his ebony boots dangled and clanged with each step he took forward until the light finally reveals his face.

"You seem familiar," you say while squinting your eyes, "Are you the person my father rejected back in February?"

He quirks one brow and you were afraid if you had offended him. But before you could utter an apology, the man splits his lips into a toothy grin and bursts out into a maniac-like laughter. He was completely insane, you thought to yourself. Though he paid no mind to your discomfort and continued to dwell in his amusement, "Hahaha straightforward, I like it! So what if I am? Is it a requirement to be a noble for me to simply have a chat?"

"And if I may ask why?"

"Hmmm, why?" The man reaches for the balcony and presses his back there. He threw his head backward before drilling his ruby gaze into yours, "I too am not fond of annoying crowds. Those snobbish fools thinking they're above everyone else just because they have a couple of mora when that is all they are worth. It's almost too hilarious for my own good."

You could tell there was disdain in his tone. Mainly towards your father who were one of the many unkind nobles of Fontaine and was only liked because of his success. Gripping your hands upon the stone railings, you looked down at the distant trees below while the wind rustled them apart, "I can't deny that," you say dissapointedly, "It's common for nobles not to associate with lower classes as it could potentially ruin their image. Though I may not have been there but I'm sure you had much to offer in terms of your brilliance, erm, Mister…?"

"Hector," Hector placed a palm on his chest with a polite bow following suit, "Hector Dufour-Lapointé. It is a pleasure to make you an acquaintance Lady (Y/n)."

"You know my name?"

"How could I not?" Hector smirks lazily as he danced around you, "I saw you before hiding behind the rose bushes back in your estate. Quite curious why you didn't attempt to say hello."

He even remembers that too. You fiddled with the fabric of your dress, "My apologies. I'm not use to socializing so much."

“Is that so? I think you're not giving yourself enough credit," he complimented while shrugging, "This is much more entertaining than hanging in that insufferably crowded room, it was an unexpected occurence to meet you here of all places. However, I must say time can fly if I'm able to enjoy myself."

You shifted away from his stare, "You flatter me. We've only been talking for a few minutes."

"I have yet to realize it then" Hector's cheerfulness remains at stance despite your gloomy response. He leans forward like a curious child and tosses you a question, "Then allow me to ask, what brings you out here Lady (Y/n)? I don't see any reason when your family are such highly respected people of Fontaine." 

"I'm not like them!" You retort instantly, causing the man to glance at you with skepticism, "I mean, I have nothing to do with them and they have nothing to do with me. That's just how it is. They already have Clement after all…"

Why am I telling him this?

"Ah your brother I assume. Yes so I've heard much about his genius mind. There were a few instances where he and I collaborated at Sumeru Academia," Hector speaks as if regarding to his unpleasant memories, "Although he never said anything about having a sister."

"We're not that close. And I'm not very fond of him," you confessed bluntly.

"Neither am I," Hector agreed with a scowl, "He claims his position using the knowledge derived from history books but never tries to think beyond the norm. That ignorant mindset of his will surely be his downfall one day."

"Ignorance can lead to anyone's downfall. If they turn a blind eye to the truth, so much can be taken from them," you paused shortly from rambling too much, "That's what I read in books at least."

"As expected of your lineage," he sighs whimsically, "Such avid readers."

"Well my family prefers documents and research. I've gone through them too but I will always love reading fiction."

"Ha! Seems you really are trying to be different from the rest of your family."

Seconds turn to minutes and minutes to hours, you had already forgotten about the cold breeze despite your dress being less than ideal for the outdoors. The man, although he can be a little to blathering at times, was more than what seemed to be on the surface. At first you thought of him as someone here to take advantage of your relations to your father but he seemed so sincere when listening to your stories, so eager while expressing his thoughts and even made you laugh a couple of times. You didn't realize that the clock had already struck twelve as the guests were preparing to leave but you just weren't ready to do the same.

"Until next time (Y/n)," he takes your fingers and pressed a kiss on top of them, though you were more struck by how he addressed you without honorifics, "I look forward to speaking with you again."

A warm smile graces your lips as you cursty, "Likewise Hector. Thank you for listening to me. I know I must have taken a long time."

Hector sneered but you already learned that it was simply his way of expressing amusement, "Hardly. I was thoroughly entertained."

When your parents found out about your meeting with him, they made it clear that you would never see him again. Hector Dufour-Lapointé is what he calls himself but the real name behind this man was Hector Valliere who came from a village hidden in the west of Fontaine. Rumours said that he was chased out of his hometown by an angry mob, claiming him to be a madman conducting unethical experiments on humans. Shortly after his arrival in Sumeru, he abandoned his past identity and replaced it with a new one in order to enter the academy under legal supervision. Associating with a man of a suspicious reputation would only cause harm to your family's name. Though you could barely care much about their reputation. There was nothing for you to benefit from it.

Few weeks have passed and you evetually gave up on the thought of hearing from Hector. They were only fleeting moments, nothing more. Your routine would stay the same as you kept on plucking more books off the shelves, killing whatever time you had. However the activities you used to enjoy somehow lost it's flair and there would be a slight pain in your chest whenever you turn to a page with the princess as she is surrounded by her friends. What exactly changed? Your family still treated you the same. Did you suddenly grow bored from doing the same thing everyday? Why is it that you feel much more lonelier despite being alone for so long? It was hard to tell in a singular perspective. If only there was someone here to give you some insights on things you couldn't see…

A silver bird lands by your front window and you nearly fell out of your chair as it flapped their wings violently. A machine?! They dropped what seems to be an envelope within the thick bushes before taking off and buzzing into the evening sky. You switched off the lock and lifted the glass within a single movement, snatching the piece of paper so that the wind wouldn't blow it away. Hastily you opened it. Both curious and cautious of why would anyone send you mail in such a discreet approach.

Chère Mademoiselle (Y/n),

I can only imagine the shock of your expression once reading this letter. I'm only writing to you since I assume that your father had already told you those nasty rumours about my past. No matter. I trust that you have a good head on your shoulders to not prejudge people using such miniscule details. I wish to speak with you again. Unless you have other plans staying in that stuffy room of yours, meet me behind the clock tower at 11:00 p.m. Don't be late.

Bien à vous,

H.

"It really is him!" The happiness spreads all across your features as you clutched the letter to your chest. For some reason, your heart wouldn't stop racing. It was a simple yet thoughful action on his part but despite how short his greeting was, every word held the weight of a thousand sparks, "I…I can't stop smiling."

And without hesitation, you prepared to leave. No one noticed your absence.

-------

It was only halfway where you realized that Hector didn't give many details redgarding why he planned this sudden event. You caught sight of him standing under the roofs with his hands hidden behind his back. He had on his signature lopsided grin, brows uneven as he glanced at you casually.

"How very punctual, were you so eager that you couldn't wait?" He teases.

"I was surprised when your bird knocked upon my window," you inform, "Is it something urgent?"

"Not at all. I merely wanted to catch up with old times," Hector tilts forward to emphasize his suggestion, "Care to indulge me for a bit?"

You crossed your arms, "Then what is it that you're hiding behind your back?"

"Hmm?" He hums, "You mean this?"

"Ah!"

Roses. A bouquet of bright red flowers were presented to you, nicely wrapped in fabric. In the language of Fontaine, recieving them could mean multiple of things and you couldn't help but feel hesitant despite his thoughtful gesture, "Why are you giving me this?"

"Is it so wrong for me to be a gentleman? I thought it would be best to prepare you a gift after you put all that effort to come out in such a late hour," Hector mused to himself, "Especially when you had to make sure no prying eyes would catch us."

You let out a small laugh before accepting the bouquet, "I wouldn't go as far to say that."

"Oh?" Although it was hard to see, Hector managed to catch a glimpse of your flushed cheeks hidden behind the flowers. A darken smirk climbs onto his face at the inviting thought of what it could mean, "Tell me more."

The whole night you both spent walking around the empty plaza with only the stars as your guide. They paved a silver path reflected in the horizon above, free flowing like one of the many watercolour paintings hung in your chambers, uncertain where they may lead but you followed them regardless. If it weren't for Hector's inivtation you might have never known about the parts of your city due to the restricted lifestyle you lived. He listened to every one of them. The stories you had to tell when there was no one for you to talk to and the complaints about your brother whenever he wanted to snitch on your actions just to get the praise out of your father. You expressed your frustrations when speaking about your incompetences, joy after reading a good fairytale book written by your favourite author, there was so much to say that you were worried if Hector soon grew tired from them.

"Go on. I'm listening."

And your heart flutters again. Suddenly everything felt so light with each step you took, it was as if you walked across the stars in the sky rather than the heavy pavement of the ground you called your home. But even if happiness was a bliss, it tormented you. Because companionship made you realize how poor your were all along. That you had everything yet you had nothing, slowly withering away like the roses you held in your hand. Convinced that your existence was worth nothing more than nothing itself. Doomed to be dismissed and forgotten. Rotting away...Hector stays by your side as you cried softly into the night.

From a distance the bell rings and echoes just like the time before during Fontaine's grand ball. Hector shows you a secret route so that no one could find you.

"Will you write to me again?"

The request was so innocent, purely from genuine intentions and devoided of anything he had in mind. Hector would always laugh in these situations when things have gone unexpectedly yet pleasingly his way but held back knowing that it would be foolish to waste such a priceless opportunity. And so he gave you his smile, one full of secrets where you had mistakened it as a promise, "Of course my dear."

Every night you could no longer fall asleep since he had occupied your thoughts completely. Sometimes you'd dream of him and their tales would unfold similarly to the ones you have read. It gone to the point where the maids would have to wake you up during late afternoons due to the dramatic change in your sleep schedule. Though, you didn't care what they did to you. As long as no one found out about your secret rendezvous.

You never thought that there'd be a day where you would voluntarily give up reading your beloved fairytales. They were now replaced by a stash of his letters that have been accumulated over the past few months. You read them each day, pacing back and forth within the walls of your room, whispering his sentences as if he were the one saying them to you. He made you feel special. You were addicted to this feeling. Eventually you managed to memorize his words by heart. 

The pages of your diary were filled with notes. Like your very own  fairytale carved into reality. From the rose petal, now dried, to the hairpin he snatched from a distracted merchant and a single strand of his hair you found within your cloak after a warm embrace, all of these items, a remnant of the man you loved were taped up in these pages. Sometimes you could even feel his prescence because it was all you needed. It didn't matter if Clement threw insults about how worthless your existence was, your parents could lock you in this prison if they wanted to but they shall never take away Hector from you. Never. You swear it. He was your whole world and the prince who saved you from a life made of aching emptiness. You would do anything to keep him by your side. Anything to gain his affection.

Anything.

"I had a feeling that you were the culprit dear sister."

Your arms stutters as they clutched tightly on the scrolls you took off from the shelves. The light crept into the room like arms reaching out to clutch around your ankles, warning you for trespassing. You turned around dreadfully to see Clement pressing his shoulder against the doorframe with his arms folded and a wicked expression aimed at your pitiful state.

"Why…Why are you still awake?" You say in disbelief, "I thought everyone was asleep."

"Please. Not only are you shameless but hypocritical as well. You truly are a dissapointment to our family."

"Wait," taking a step forward, you stopped him before he makes his exit, "I'll put them back. Just don't tell father about this."

But like your parents, your brother was unkind. Clement doubles over and hugs his torso, cackling through his teeth, "Is that how it is?" He swipes his arm up and you see a parchment paper held between his fingers. 

"No!"

"Ma chérie (Y/n). I must say all this tenacious effort of sneaking in my letters to your window is becoming more and more tiresome. But of course, you are an exception. I want the scrolls you've mentioned the other day at my lair tomorrow evening. Make sure no one discovers this. I'm counting on you. Cordialement! Hector."

"No…" you whispered, feeling the weight of the world fall upon your shoulders as it shattered apart. Hector. If possible, you hoped that the pieces could just crush you right then and there. Your knees felt weak and a fright takes over but despite your turmoil, Clement didn't show a shred of sympathy.

"So this is why you've been acting odd lately. Pathetic," he flaps the paper tauntingly in his grasp, "I can't decide if I should be impressed or baffled by your actions. A secret romance with a criminal and the bloodline of Fontaine's most respected government associates? Even though you've hit rock bottom, you still decided to dig deeper."

"Clement you don't understand!"  Stumbling upon your footsteps, you desperately tried to convey your predicament even if it meant feeding his ego, "Hector is not the man you think. He was shunned by the people of his hometown, treating him as if he were nothing. They…They ignored him! All this time he needed someone to recognize his brilliance, someone to understand." Shakily, you brought your tensed arms to your chest and screamed a silent whisper, "Someone to listen but no one did. He must have felt so alone…"

Clement flinches when you suddenly clutched onto his biceps. When he looked into your eyes, a shiver ran down his spine.

"Hector is counting on me. I'm the only one who can save him. No one else. He needs me Clement, he needs me!" 

"Tch."

An ear-splitting scream of his hand against your face echoes across the room. It knocked you out of your stance and you bumped into the table, grunting while the scrolls to tumbled to the floor.

"Crazy woman, I'm embarassed to be related to you!"

While you were still trying to regain your balance, your brother had already ran off. It wouldn't be long before he alerted your parents, the clock ticking away like sand until the final hour leaves you with nothing but an empty glass. 

"No," despair swallows the strength away from your legs and you crawled towards where he used to stand, "Don't take him away from me…I need him…"

I can't live without him.

I can't live without him.

I can't live without him.

Tears begin to form by the corners of your eyes as you clenched your teeth. This was no time to cry. Balling your fists, you sprinted out of the room, pushing whatever stood in your way as if you were running for your life. 

And if you considered everything else, it wasn't that far from the truth.

-------

"Hector! Hector are you there?" After arriving upon his house, you began knocking on his door aggressively. The lock clicks and you were greeted by an evidently annoyed man gnawing his teeth together.

"Tsk. There better be a good reason-"

"They're coming for us! We have to go. Now. Before it's too late. My father is probably already waking and making arrangements for you to-"

"Enough, I can't even catch what you're saying," He pinches the bridge of his nose while you were still stuck in a frenzy state. He takes a step back and opens the door wider, gesturing for you to come inside, "Get in already. I have a feeling that this will be a long night."

Hector observes intently at the words you tell him.

Not out of concern but akin to the way he watches the insects react when he exposes them to a different environment.

He was a scientist after all. A madman in which you deliberately fell in love with, so much to the point that he was able to feel pity for once. How you trusted him wholeheartedly with all of your vulnerabilities, emotions and secrets like handing him your parts just so he could put you back together again. Tinkering was always one of his favourite hobbies and he couldn't help but feel a twisted sense of pride at the thought of you being completely wrapped around his finger. 

Perhaps that was the reason why he loved you. Because he didn't love you. He loved you in parts.

"It was only a matter of time," Hector sighs. He sneaks his grasp into yours, knowing how much it affects you and puts on an invisible mask of deciet, "I already knew this day would happen long before anyone could have predicted it."

"You did?" With worried eyes you gazed at him, "What shall we do then?"

Knowing he hit the target, his lips begin to curl up towards his ears, showing his sharp white teeth that shone against the dim-litted room. Hector asks, "Do you love me?"

A silly question. You didn't hesitate to answer, "Of course I do. I've said it many times."

"Prove it to me," Forcing his forehead against yours, Hector commands in a dangerously low tone, "Kill your brother and only then you can truly be mine."

Your brain sutters, trying to absorb what he had just said. Kill? As in to take a life? It sounded wrong. But...was it wrong if the life belonged to someone who ruined yours?

Dumbfoundedly, you glanced into the bloody orbs of your lover, his black pupils thinning into knives while burning in the hellfire of his true colours. Hector runs a hand from the scalp of your hair, down to your cheek before gingerly sliding his fingers at your jawline. He pulled you close and whispered into your ear.

"Are you scared?"

Ah, this wasn't about your feelings. This was about him and your future and there could be no future you without him by your side.

You let your eyelids drop and leaned into his touch, "I could never be scared of you Hector. Whether it is within my power or not, I will make sure no one gets in our way. I swear it."

"Good," he continues to have you feed on his affection, "I knew I could count on you."

-----------

The news of your brother's death filled every headline Fontain had to offer. He was driven off a cliff while making a trip towards Sumeru. No one survived. The remains were so crushed to the point that authorities had trouble identifying their bodies. The only explanation they could come up with by observing the leftover tracks was that the horse must have gone out of control and ended up dragging the carriage along with it.

Ha. Serves him right.

Food poisoning. The vial Hector made was very effective. You made sure to bury it away from your mansion.

With no other choice, you became your family's next heir. Hector notifies you that he would be away for several months to solidify a unique connection with a man hailing from Snezhnaya. You didn't think he would arrive at your doorsteps with so much authority. Fatui soldiers followed from behind as the staff paved a way for them to enter. Your father was clearly displeased by his outrageous approach but he knew he was in no place to deny.

"Upon the agreement between Fontaine and Snezhnaya, Lady (Y/n) will become Harbinger Il Dottore's wife," the Duke announces, "This news will be publicly announced at the end of October."

Dottore? Is that what he calls himself?

As if claiming his victory, Dottore shoots your father a devilish smile. You could feel the dining table shake when he kept pressing his fist against the smooth surface, begrudingly congratulating you both for the new engagement. Your mother bursted into tears.

Was it worth it?

You watched both of your parents mourn silently in their own manner. Perfectly knowing that you were the main cause. But you weren't able to feel any sadness because in the end, you now had everything you've ever wanted. 

The inheritance.

Their attention.

But most of all, him.

And when you were convinced that this was your happily ever after, that fairytales were not just beautiful lies for the sake of comfort, you didn't realize  you were already living a life made of beautiful lies conjured by your own mind for the sake of your own comfort. 

"You're nothing without me."

Dried and calloused hands squeezed around your throat as you flailed your legs against the soft fabric of the carpet floor. He encases you in a straddling position, enjoying the sight of your tortured and clenched face. Hector…no, Dottore hated it when you disobeyed him. He despised it when his creations don't work the way he wanted them to and he had no use for things that are broken.

"G-hka--k..-"

"How many times do I have to remind you to not use my birthname. Do those ears of you even function properly? Or must I fix them myself?"

You gasped for air when he relaxed his grip. Vision a blur, you coughed a few times before he pulls your arm so that you lay flushed against his chest.

"Don't forget who saved you dear (Y/n). Because of me you were able to escape that miserable life you've despised for years. I expect the utmost gratitude on your part at all times, it is only fair that I punish you for not meeting my requirements, don't you agree?" Dottore lifts his hand up to pinch your cheeks, pulling your head to stare at your eyes, "After all, there is no one else in this world who can put up with you…but me."

His words were poison in which you drank like a woman starved. It made you feel numb to the pain the more you drowned in their alluring scent, the taste was sweet, a remedy for the bitterness of reality where the man of your dreams was nothing but a cruel monster. You came to believe that the reason why he treated you so harshly was because he was scared of losing you. You were caught in the trap of what seemed to be love and devotion when truly, you were just a toy to be used at a means end. He breaks you and he puts you back together, over and over again, filling in between the cracks formed in your glass heart with the phrases you loved to hear. Just like how he filled the other holes of your life where no one else did. You called it kindness. He saw it as entertainment.

Most people pay attention to the flower's beauty but they never acknowledge the thorns hidden beneath it's blossom.  That is why they bleed. They get hurt. Though, you didn't mind shedding blood if it was for his sake.

Because you would do anything for him.

You would do anything to bring back the memories of Hector Dufour-Lapointé and save him from the Harbinger that ruined his life. Your life. It wasn't his fault. You knew you could change him to what he was before because you were in love with him, that he might still in there. Somewhere.

Right?

…

Please come back.

Time continues to flow like the tears of your dying heart despite yearning for it to turn at the past. Dottore already left the room a long time ago but you didn't. Raising your head away from your hands, you peered at the door in front of you, begging desperately through a chanting record of despondence. 

Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back. Come back.

Images, they slipped through your fingers, slowly becoming more distant until your mind began to see them as illusions. Dreams. Things that were not real. Telling you that your life was a lie. 

"Come back to me…Hector."

Because the man you loved was withering in your memories and you couldn't do anything to save him.

A dry croak robbed you of your breath as you turned to look in the mirror.

Worthless. You were always worthless, it was what your parents told you since birth. It was what you became when he wasn't at your side because without him, your existence was worthless. You lied for him, you stole for him you, took a life for him. You destroyed yourself for him to point that it was hard to believe you were even looking at yourself.

Worthless. It's who I am.

And despite it all, you couldn't obtain his love.

(Crack).

Worthless things don’t deserved to be loved.

(Crack. Crack).

But what if it’s because I’m worthless, that he won’t love me back?

(Crack).

Your eyes jolted open, causing you to gasp sharply. When the sweet lies dispersed in your head and cleansed you of deceit, everything started to make sene. You came to realize why your wish was impossible all along.

Dottore...no, Hector, the reason wasn't because he didn't return your feelings. Neither was it due to the fact that he hurt you through his actions. Nor when he made you cry or scream for help before feeding you with more lies, thinking he would never hurt you again. It was none of those things.

It was because the man you loved this whole time was someone who could love no one but himself.

"Ha...haha," sucking in your breath, a sinister laugh escapes your mouth, "Hahahahahahaha.....!"

Everything was worthless.

You grabbed a nearby hairbrush and threw it at the mirror, watching yourself shatter into a million pieces.

There was only one thing left to do. 

------

"Ugh, where is it?!"

It was late into the night where every staff had gone to sleep. The Harbinger fumbles with his keys while standing at the door of his basement as he was too busy proceeding with his research rather than considering the thought of rest. Usually he acted upon them on his own will, performing various experiments for enjoyment. However, ever since the Snezhnayan court had requested him to look into the ancient arts of alchemy, Dottore was forced to carry it out before the deadline approached. Otherwise his position as Harbinger would be revoked.

"What a bunch of self-centered blockheads. Can't they understand that it take quality time to get quality results?"

Most of his important documents were stored on the otherside. Half of it came from his father-in-law's library. He had you to thank for that.

"Ah finally," he mutters, though still dissatisfied, "I should have a word with my butler for misplacing them."

Dottore shoves the key into the lock but instead of twisting the knob he noticed something strange. It was old and had yet to be fixed but somehow he didn't have any trouble adjusting his wrist. Then he saw there were a set of freshly made fingerprints upon the smooth metallic surface. However, the only person awake at this time would be him-

An intruder!

Dottore drops everything to the ground and yanks the door open. He skittered down the stone stairs while cursing under his breath. Using the delusion gifted by the Tsaritsa, the Harbinger activated his lazer-like pillars as he took advantage of their glow to light up the unlit room.

"What in the abyss...?!"

Except it wasn't dark.

"All of these scrolls, I recognize them," without sparing a single glance, you spoke nostalgically towards the bookshelves, "It brings me so much memories..."

Dottore clenches his teeth together as his eyes shone an angry red, you were holding a torch dangerously close to his hard-earned collection, "What do you think you're doing?!" He fumed, "Put that out, AT ONCE! Don't make me repeat myself!

"They're precious to you aren't they?" You finally shifted to face him, "More than me."

"What has gotten into you?" He was about to hurl at you until he saw your torch lowering, causing him to retreat. You were strangely noncholant and he couldn't help the feeling of disturbance. Accepting that he didn't have the upperhand, Dottore decided to use a different approach, "(Y/n)."

The sound of your name falls from his lips. You faltered.

"I'm sorry for what I have done. I know I was dishonourable to you, as your husband and lover, and that you didn't deserve to see me so aggressive. You have every right to express your anger, my dear. I was in the wrong."

It was only a mask. You knew it well. But seeing him with softened eyes and a tone so comforting, made you desperately wanting to run into his arms so he could wipe away your sorrows just like once upon a time. To live happily ever after.

Hector.

Dottore runs his fingers through his hairstrands in frustration and sighs, "However the Tsarista needed me to do something very important and I can't seem to fulfill her request no matter how hard I try. It angers me. If I don't finish this, there would be no place for us to stay."

"Hector..." you sniffled quietly. He looks so much like him right now.

"Can't you see I'm doing this for you?" He consoles, yet his weapons still remain, "I only intended to make you happy and there's nothing I won't do to achieve that. How about I show-"

"Enough."

Dottore froze upon your sudden command. He didn't sense a hint of subjugation and it seemed that you had perfect control of your emotions. How very inquisitive. Did you grow immune to the style of his voice? In such a short period of time? The facade he had on was now replaced with a growling animal-like expression. You looked at him dissapointedly. His Harbinger self returned. Hector was no more.

"Ha, you're the same as always. Even before the time you became a Harbinger. The same man that I fell in love with but it is me who will never be the same again," For a moment you averted your gaze as if trying hard to swallow your own words, "Remember when we first met at the balcony? That I told you my favourite books to read are fiction? I knew they weren't real but deep down, I wanted to believe in them anyways. And you know what? They did come true, to some degree..."

As the memories come flashing back, he defenselessly watches your expression contort from sadness to a calm contemplation and finally, enraged disgust, "But you only ever brought me pain and I'm sick of it!"

Swaying the torch to the side, Dottore flinches forward but he didn't dare to come close when your current state was unpredictable to him, "I JUST WANTED YOU TO LOVE ME," you wail, I just wanted to be loved, bringing a clawed hand against your forehead and trembling upon contact, "It's all that I ask for..."

Dottore narrowed his brows. Perhaps he may have gotten too far.

"But I know it's impossible. The world is a cruel place and there's no point in trying anymore. That is why I'm going to set us free."

"...What do you mean?"

You shut your eyes closed and tossed the flaming torch to the ground. A horrified expression takes over his features. It didn't take long for the fire to begin spreading amongst the room.

"NO!" Dottore yelled powerfully, he frantically darts his gaze at all directions as they continued to flicker and blend into his precious documents. You stood still and watched him grab the ones that were intact, savouring the most he could but they slip out of his arms every time he moved. Dottore glances behind him to see a rising cage of hellfire. Then he turns to you.

" 'Til death do us part!" you laughed maniacally.

The madman looked back with angry dismay, "You're out of your mind!"

Abandoning whatever he held in his hand, Dottore spins around towards the staircase. He covers his face with his sleeve and did whatever he could to prevent the fire from touching him. However, he accidentally stumbled on his footsteps and something fell off the heights, knocking him in the face. He grunts painfully.

"That will leave a scar," you smile while he clutches at his injury, "I can break you too.”

Just like how you broke me.

Knowing that you've managed to leave a mark of your existence on him in someway, you peacefully watched your lover wobble between the hell you created. But the hell you knew was not made of scorching heat and thundering flames. Hell was empty. Hell was a void. This feeling was far too gentle to be considered hell. If he can't return your love, then at least let these caging arms bask you in the warmth you’ve always desired.

Lifting your head, you looked towards the ceiling and closed your eyes.

Ah, this cannot be death.

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

i'm so excited about you taking asks again ahhhh okay so. if you'd absolutely had to choose. what would be your top 5 cockles moments, and why? thank you ily <3

here’s the thing: there are so many routes i could go down with this, because cockles moments come in all shapes and sizes and formats. these include moments from their panels, their bloopers, the footage we get when they don’t even know they’re being recorded, stories being passed down from photo ops & autographs(one of my personal favorite ways to get cockles, tbh, because they’re all insane), and social media(tweets to each other, instagram posts & comments, etc.). 

SO! since many a list like this has already been made, and i want to stand out from the crowd, what i’m gonna do is definitively give the number one spot to each of these five categories.(i might even throw in honourable mentions because they’re so despicably in love that they warrant that. i really put my whole pussy into this, guys, i hope you’re happy.) 

disclaimer: these are my own personal opinions. but that also means i’m right. so. enjoy. 

number one: top cockles panel moment

so we’re starting off with a bang, because how do you even BEGIN to rank what atrocities jensen and misha commit at jibcon. every single one they’ve had is damning in it’s own right, for different reasons.

however, considering just how much unabashed fuckery they’ve given us to sift through, it’s a good thing i do have a personal favorite despite it all. it’s heartwarming, the sweetest thing i’ve ever seen, AND it’s jarringly cinematic - mainly because it has a whole ass arc to it that was years in the making. it might even be surprising to some people, but my favorite cockles panel moment, and what i consider the one that encompasses their entire gut-wrenching journey from 2008-2013 in the most sweepingly romantic gesture possible, is this one.

i want this burned into my retinas. i am not even joking. when i'm through with my explanation, let me convince you why this is thee most romantic cockles moment of all time.

first, some history: people call this the resume off, but many seem to forget the botched attempt at a resume off a year prior. and yes, you guessed it: it's during their break up. it's a juicy time period for a reason, guys. it came across as exceedingly one-sided and VERY awkward. let me refresh your memory as to just how bad it was, and just how hard jensen was trying and ultimately failing at winning misha over: the funniest part of the whole resume off in 2013??? every joke/bit had literally already been made/done. they were just going through the motions again, but the difference THIS time...is that misha reciprocated jensen's energy. it. is. fascinating. i want to get into it more detail in another post, and i'll link it here when i'm done, but the main takeaway, i think, and the main difference that showcases how much they've grown in a year, is that in jib 3, misha flat out refused to do an accent, and this time around, he indulges jensen for literal minutes. when i tell you they're crazy, they're crazy. i can't wait to actually dive into it later.

ANYWAY, the resume off culminates in this moment here. and, like, a million things happen in this gifset. actually, more like a million and one. the music starts playingneediremindyouthatthesongissingingintherain(h e l p), misha starts dancing, jensen 'perpetually fake grumpy' ackles lets misha think he's not going to join, misha sits down defeated, but no!!! that was jensen's plan all along(look at his stupid fucking smirk) and he offers his arm to his dance partner who immediately grins like a fool, jensen then leads misha into their kick step, they perfectly synchronise and let loose, and are then very clearly having the time of their lives, hanging off of each other with joy and ease. from their expressions alone i can tell that this moment is so. so. so. so! much more than what initially meets the eye. i mean-misha is fighting back the biggest smile i've ever seen. to me, it reads like jensen is offering something to misha, something that misha kind of gave up on expecting, and him offering his arm like that is like, a surprise to him in the best possible way(and it's so not platonic, let me just say that.) as soon as jensen did that, it ushered in a new era of cockles. this panel is jensen and misha's favourite for a reason, and i think this moment is the biggest clue as to why.

whew!!! ok. that took a lot out of me and that was only point one. moving on,

number two: top cockles blooper moment

cockles bloopers hold an extremely special place in my heart, because it shows just how fucking disastrous jensen and misha are. they are so goddamn infatuated with each other that they HOLD UP PRODUCTION ALL THE TIME TO FLIRT WITH EACH OTHER(???). let me repeat. let it sink in. jensen ackles; arguably one of the most professional actors on that show who puts everything he has into each scene, with mountains and mountains of notes to prove it: would rather hold up production to flirt with misha collins. this sounds fake. it's not. he does it. all. the. time. and here's the thing guys!!! i'm gonna let you in on a secret!!! misha loves it. he loveesssss it. on top of that-misha collins: overlooked because he's pranked and people assume he's unprofessional as well, but his only pranks are in retaliation/off-set, and he rarely if EVER causes problems if he can help it....lets himself get carried away when it comes to jensen making kissy faces at him!!! are you actually kidding me!!! i mean. misha. it's just a face. you've seen it a million times. i don't buy that it triggers something in you that strongly....you like it, and you like jensen's reaction. you can't fool me!!! lisa berry's face in that one gifset shows just how fed up the crew is with their gross, coupley boyfriend antics.

i could pull up so many examples. sooooooo many. but my favourite was sealed since the moment i saw it.

i actually already wrote an analysis on it but i can't find it :(((( which SUCKS because i really unpacked the whole thing. i'll try to summarise.

basically, a backstory is part of this too!!! jensen and misha both had a really really hard time with this scene(because it's explicitly romantic there i said it), they sat down for hours and poured over their scripts together, they were super super nervous going into filming, both of them, jensen especially, were super hard on themselves for their performances not being true to their characters but they both complimented the other's work(boyfriend moments fr). so, yeah. they weren't confident going into shooting. and how do they get themselves to feel better???? by cuddling each other, apparently.

a lot. a LOT. happens in this specific blooper. to the point that i saw it years before i knew about cockles and it raised all sorts of flags for me.

1) stop pulling my face towards your crotch(as a thinly veiled request that misha would, in fact, move jensen's face towards his crotch, considering it was jensen moving himself there in the first place. also, why so comfy down there guys???) 2) you're my baby daddy i know(in the most intimate voice i've ever heard please) 3) i know, i know, i love you too i didn't say i love you i know but you wanted to say it etc. misha's right, of course. that's what jensen meant.

it just reeks of comfort, familiarity and intimacy between the two, and it's a moment that is extremely sweet and silly at the same time. they're so <3

number three: top cockles found footage moment

WONDERFUL category. truly the culmination of the cockles experience. many people have said that shipping cockles doesn't work because 'they're just onstage you dummies!! they're playing it up for the audience!!!' here's the thing, love. i could not disagree with you more. once you climb your way up the cockles ladder, you soon learn that they are, in fact, playing their dynamic DOWN, not up. they really are just Like That™, and they could not care less about the paying audience, if we're being honest, considering how much time they take to giggle with each other and refuse to let the audience in on the joke. and i love them for it <3

anyway, my point is that this category is for all you naysayers out there, all you 'jensen and misha's relationship is just for show and is real life queerbaiting'(?????lordhelp???) oh yeah? ok, explain this.

he. he. he calls jensen sweetheart. literally enough said. there's nothing to really add here, except, misha and jared then immediately engage in damage control. jared's method is distraction and misha's is retconning('get out of the car, dude') this was what got me to buy into the cockles dumpster for GOOD good. you don't call your buddy sweetheart accidentally and sound so completely earnest while doing it! especially not when that buddy is jensen ackles!!! you think he would let any of his friends call him that? do you?

one more thing; if it was a slip of the tongue, little mouth thing or whatever, you think jared wouldn't have jumped on it immediately??? i can hear it now. 'did you just call him SWEETHEART???' yeah. that's what i thought. you know why he didn't? because it was too revealing.

number four: top cockles autograph moment

i mean, i think we all know what it's gonna be, and if you don't, well, do i have the piece de cockles resistance that is gonna send you over the edge.

if you haven't heard of this story by now, as a cockles, truther, i'm gonna go ahead and get you to read it, because there is no possible heterosexual explanation for any of it, and you're fooling yourself if you think otherwise.

spoiler alert: it's the story where phones weren't allowed in an auto session, jensen nuzzles himself in misha's hair, leans his full body weight onto him, holds his hand, etc. etc. i'm imploding just repeating this back, actually. also, just, the sheer amount of stories from photo ops where they tackle hug each other or slap each other's asses or sing romantic songs to each other or almost kiss is, frankly, a lot. if i could wish for anything, it would be to witness them in person.

and finally,

number five: top cockles social media moment

this one is super difficult, because there's obviously a lot to choose from. but you know what? full send, i'm going with this one:

i just. what to say about this. how often do misha and jensen watch sunsets together for it to qualify as ‘always’ ??? why are sunsets synonymous with their relationship??? that’s like??? a very romantic thing????? ‘this guy’??? the fact that it’s a CANDID??? i don’t know guys.

that could have been better but i am TIRED so. there you go rose ily

[mayaflowerxs]

REACTION TO YOU CHOREOGRAPHING FEVER

Synopsis: You are the choreographer for their song fever and they catch you in the makings of it.

Warning: fluff

Pairing: ENHYPEN x reader

Heeseung:

The boy was in complete aww when he walked into the dance studio and saw you there. You were in the middle of doing the chorus part when you saw him through the mirror. Turning around you smiled at him and waved. He clears his throat and stands up straighter. “Are you our choreographer for Fever?” “Well I was assigned to make a choreography for the song, I still don’t have much done but I’m getting there. What to see what I’ve got so far?” He nods immediately as he walks over to the mirror walls, talking a seat against it as he waited for you to start the song to where you came up with some moves so far. He couldn’t help but smile brightly, when you finished he clapped happily. “Would you like to help me get some more moves in?” “Yes!” Becoming silent as he looked down embarrassed. Oh how pathetic he sounds for being this excited he thinks. Getting up as he stands next to you. For the rest of the day, you two come up with more moves and by the time you two leave he not only takes you out for a late night meal (he didn’t want to call it a date in hope you wouldn’t freak out on him for asking you out too early), but you two also had half of the choreography done. He couldn’t wait to come back tomorrow and work with you more.

Jay:

Walking down the hall, he was bored out of his mind. He was told to wait until the choreography for Fever was done but as the time went on he felt more and more impatient. A part of him wanted to make the choreography but he knew his management wouldn’t allow it, at least not now. Also he has a lot to learn right now, think it would be best he continued to improve on his performances and anything else before starting on making moves to songs they are releasing. Hearing Fever start playing, he nodded to the beat of it and walked closer and closer to where the source had the song playing. Planning on just walking past it, he realized that it was the practice room and most likely the choreographer was inside in the makings of it. His curiosity got the best of him and looks inside. His mouth slowly gaped as he saw you moving smoothly to the song. You were a natural and he was amazed. It was as if you owned the song. The rhythm was following you rather you following it. You huffed as you couldn’t think of any other move to follow, you didn’t want to repeat the same types of moves for it because it will only become boring. Jay gained some confidence and walked in. “I like what you have so far, can you teach me just a little bit of right now?” He asked. Jumping from your spot, you look over and see him. Without muttering a word, you nod and begin to teach him. Jay left the night with you on his mind and how nicely you moved.

Jake:

This baby was amazed, in awe, shocked and so much more. He didn’t know how to piece together his emotions. You and Jake were good friends but you never told him you were the choreographer for his new song Fever. When he couldn’t find you, he looked everywhere until he walked in on you dancing to his song. When you were finished, he clapped slowly then proceeding to clap rapidly. His bright smile that could light up the room if it was dark, shined. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “I wanted it to be a surprise.” You stomp on your feet as you pout, a bit disappointed that Jake found out before you finished. “I’m sorry! If you want I can leave while you finish then when you present it to us I will pretend I never saw this part of the choreography okay?” You giggle as you watch his jog out the room not before giving you a thumbs up. That’s the boy you love.

Sunghoon:

Sunghoon can be a quiet baby. Usually he keeps his thoughts to himself and detaches himself from the world. So when you walked into the room, you didn’t even see him there. He didn’t know what to do. He was shocked and felt awkward at the same time being in the presence of you. You were good looking and you seemed focus to get whatever you needed done. He decided to stay out of your way since you didn’t even see him, thinking it will only get more awkward if he got up and walked out since you would definitely see him then. His eyes widen a bit when you put on his song, listening to the song you felt yourself become engulfed with the song. As if the dance moves came out of you naturally. Sunghoon leans closer to focus more on the way you danced to his song. He loved it, and started bobbing his head to every time you hit a beat to the song. Loving the choreography more, he loved it so so much that when you finished he started clapping. You shout frightened and look behind you. His clapping slows as the fear of making the air awkward now came true. “Uh...hi?”

Sunoo:

He felt so shy in coming up to you. He saw you through the window and focused on each of the steps closely. At one point he started jumping in his spot in glee. He thought you were such a good dancer and the fact that you were the choreographer for his song felt like a blessing to him. He didn’t know this but you knew he was peeking at you the whole time. Usually you would feel nervous or pressured when other people saw you coming up with the steps of a dance. Given that you felt comfortable showing other people especially the singers/dancers of the song you were choreographing when the dance was already done. But seeing his face filled with joy and excitement you couldn’t help but feel appreciated. Most groups don’t even know your name, you come up with the dance but their original choreographers learn the dance and teach them rather than have you teach the idols. So to see Sunoo see you felt as if you were finally being recognized. When you getting ready to leave, you looked over to the window and saw him. His smiling face turned to a quick one of panic and his head disappears quickly out of frame. You giggle but on the other side of that wall was a Sunoofreaking out!

Jungwon:

Could not stop smiling! He was trying to find his members but when he came across you in the practice room in the middle of doing the steps he froze in his spot. You felt awkward since he was just standing there but asked him the Golden question that he was waiting for you to say. “Want to learn the steps?” Without a second thought he jogs over to you and listens intently to every word of yours. He liked how softly you taught him the move, every time he didn’t get the right step you didn’t make him feel ashamed or embarrassed if anything you reassured him that he’ll get it the next try. Jungwon didn’t feel this insane pressure he usually does when learning it with the others and with his choreographer. “You’re such a great dancer!” You clap as he got the dance right. He was an absolute pro and the fact he got the moves down and remembered them so quickly amazed you. “You too! You should choreograph more of our songs.” He says shyly. “Cross your fingers!” You say jokingly. As you two walk out the room not noticing that Jungwon had his hand behind his back. His fingers in fact crossed.

Ni-ki:

Now, he would have absolutely no idea how to approach you. A part of him wanted to ask you so many questions. Like how did you come up with the moves or how smoothly you danced to the song. Or how it seemed as if you were in your own bubble and didn’t feel this building pressure getting pent up when trying to hit each step. You had finished the entire song and you were now currently putting all the pieces together. Restarting the song as you got in formation. He watched intently and while you began to dance, he was in the back coping your moves. You looked through the mirror and met eyes with him. Smiling softly at him, he couldn’t help but blush. He wanted to stop by how embarrassed he felt but when you continued to dance he did too. When the chorus came, Niki felt more confident and got closer to join you. The two of you finishing the song strongly with no mistakes. He felt so...free. Something you were great on bringing that out of him. In the back of his head, he could only hope this sense of freedom would increase each time he learned his choreography.