#I know there are a lot of us who feel that way but I am one of the many people to have a love-hate relationship with Graves

[oracle-of-dream]

Stuck

Minors DNI

(Not Proofread)

Summary: After a prank, you end up stuck in an elevator with your boyfriend whose problem is getting worse by the minute.

Warnings: Male reader, Degreading, Rouch Sex, Lots of Cum, Sex Drugs (Consensual), Blowjob, Swallowing Cum, Multiple Orgasms, Semi-Public Sex, Creampie, Dom!Myungho,

Wordcount: 2.4k

While scrolling through TikTok, you landed on a page of a couple that both took sexual enhancement drugs and tried to make it a full day without touching each other. The loser got some sort of punishment, but only after mindblowing sex.

You looked over at your boyfriend, Myungho, who was innocently watching TV. Would he be able to hold out? You leaned onto his shoulder and he patted your head to acknowledge your presence. You kissed his neck, "Hey babe, would you wanna try a fun trend?"

Myungho didn't look at you as he said, "If this is the orange trend from last week, I already told you I'd peel however many oranges you want."

"It's a new thing! Just hear me out before you say no."

Your boyfriend looked away from the TV with concern on his face. "Why would you think I'd say no?"

You gave him the best puppy eyes you could. "Please just promise you'll hear me till the end," You begged.

"Okay, I promise," He chuckled. Myungho turned to face you and muted his show, giving his undivided attention.

"So the trend is for us to take a sex drug and we try not to have sex. The loser gets a punishment from the winner."

Your boyfriend frowned slightly. "Are you sure that's the trend? That sounds like a waste of money."

You groaned, "Please! This would be so fun, and we can fuck it all out when it's finished."

"We could just fuck now, it's not like I don't want to have sex. Plus, this wouldn't really be a competition. You're way hornier than I am, you'd cave before the medicine kicked in." Myungho smirked at your expression as he teased you.

"That's so not true! I could totally outlast you!" You pushed him, "I bet that you'll cave first. If you do, you have to buy me a meal every day for the month."

Myungho raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Are you sure you want to do this? If you lose, I want the same thing. And I've been eating a lot lately."

You laughed cockily. "I know I can beat you without trying."

"I'll go out, and buy the meds right now, and we can start today." Myungho left shortly after to go buy the medicine. While you were confident in your ability to hold back, you already had a plan to make sure you'd win... You poured two glasses of water and mixed a powered sex drug into one of the two cups. When Myungho came back, you were ready with the water.

"I've got the water for the pill. Let's do this already!" You were smiling like the devil, and your boyfriend was none the wiser. He gave you one pill, and you gave him the cup of water you specially prepared for him. "On three, and you have to swallow it," You added.

Myungho nodded. "Don't try and cheat to win. If you do, I'll break you later," He said as he winked before swallowing the pill and the whole glass of water.

These words made your whole body shudder, but it was too late to back out now... You swallowed your pill and drank some water. Waiting for it to kick the boring part. You sat on the couch, watching your phone while Myungho went back to his show. It wasn't immediate, but you felt your body get warmer. You peeked over at Myungho, who looked fine. You could see his muscles from the opening in his sleeveless shirt. He'd been going to the gym a lot lately, and it was really paying off. He looked good.

You mentally slapped yourself, pulling yourself out of it. That's just the drugs talking. If you were feeling fucked up, then Myungho had to be the same, right?

You peered at him. "Feeling anything?"

"Nope," He said flatly. "I told you this was a waste of money."

"Just give it time!"

He shook his head. "I did. Nothing's happening, and we've got somewhere to go tonight. So let's forget the game and just get ready."

You pouted to yourself as Myungho got up to go get dressed. The two of you were invited to a party, and you've been begging Myungho to go with you. So you couldn't pass it up now.

The two of you started getting ready, taking your time to do so. Even though he said to forget the game, you couldn't let it go. Every chance you could, you would accidentally tease him. Bending down in front of him, showing your ass. Making him button your shirt. Even forcing him to help you put on your pants. But still nothing...

"Y/n. Are you trying something?" He asked as he pulled your pants over your butt.

"No? What could I be trying?"

Myungho held your chin and lifted it to make you look at him. "Are you trying to seduce me?" Fuck. You were instantly hard. Myungho teased you, pulling you close to him so he could help you with your belt, making you press against his hard body. He moved and shifted, grinding your cock against him. You moaned into his shoulder. "Kitty?"

Fuck! Even calling you that name was enough to get you going. He only called you that when he really wanted your attention. "Y-Yes?"

"Are you being naughty? Do you need me to take care of you?"

You caught yourself about to say yes, but the smile on his face stopped you. "Babe! You're doing this on purpose!" You hit him, pushing him away from you as he chuckled.

"Weren't you doing the same not too long ago?"

"So!? You don't even look like you're bothered by it."

"Of course, I'm not. There's no way some silly drugs is gonna mess with me, but clearly, it's got you." Your boyfriend palmed you over your pants, making you melt into his embrace. "Just say you lose, then I can help you."

"You said the game was stupid..."

"Doesn't mean I don't like winning, right?"

You pushed him away from you again. "I'm not gonna lose! Just go get ready!"

Myungho raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you want to go to a party like this? You might bump into someone and cum," He said as he tried to hold in a laugh.

"I'm fine!" You stormed into the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind you.

"No jerking off either!" He yelled from the other side of the door. "I'll know if you cum."

"S-Shut up!" You buried your face in your hands... There's no way you'd make it through the night. Much less the whole party. But you weren't going to drop out yet.

After calming down, you left the bathroom. Myungho was waiting for you in the living room. "Didn't cum on your own, did you?"

"No. Let's go." You pouted as you walked out the door.

Your boyfriend chased after you, catching up when you were waiting for the elevator. "Don't be like that, you suggested this game."

"Like what?" You pouted.

"Like a brat."

The door opened and you entered it with him.

"I'm not a brat. And I'm not mad."

Myungho leaned on the rail. "Then give me a kiss, show me you're not." You pecked him on the lips. "No. I want a kiss," He demanded.

You sighed before giving a real kiss, your lips meeting his gently. You went to pull away but his hands held you in place. One on your neck and one on your back. He continued the kiss as he bit at your lips–begging for more.

"Hey–" You pulled away before he pulled you back in. He devoured you with a hunger you'd never felt before. You danced around the elevator until you hit a wall, making the elevator shake to a halt. "What the fuck?" You pressed a button, but the elevator wouldn't respond. The symbol said you were on the 8th floor, two floors from your apartment. "Are we stuck?"

"Maybe you bumped into the emergency stop?"

"I didn't–you were attacking me and I backed up!"

"I'm not trying to say it's your fault," Myungho patted your head. "We're probably stuck in here until someone can turn it back on."

You sighed, thinking about the party. "Can we call for help?"

"No signal for me," Myungho showed you his phone. Your phone also had no signal...

"No signal, no way out... We're stuck! This really can't get worse..."

Myungho cleared his throat. "Well, I don't think this is a bad thing."

"How is this not a bad thing?"

"We have each other..." Myungho hugged you from behind, pulling you close to him. You could feel his cock, hard, rubbing against you. You pushed back against it, grinding softly as your own dick started to wake up from the action. "We're stuck in this small elevator, for who knows who long... We should try and make the best of it, right?"

"Yes," You moaned as your boyfriend kissed your neck.

Myungho's hips sharply hit against you, each mini-thrust knocking your breath away. "You want it, baby? You wanna take me in this elevator?" You nodded slowly as your body squirmed under his touch. "I'll have to cum in you so we don't make a mess, is that okay?"

You nod again. "Please, hurry up."

"Say what you want."

"I want you to fuck me, please, do it already..." You moaned as he slid your belt off and pulled your pants down. Your cock jumped out, twitching in the cold air.

"You're so cute. How can I resist you?" Myungho bit on your ears, before spitting in his hand. You could hear him wetting his cock, rubbing the excess on your hole. "I can't wait anymore..."

"Me either..."

Myungho pushed against your hole and his tip slipped inside you, making both of you moan loudly. It felt like your whole body was on fire, tingly all over, and it was just his tip. Your boyfriend's arms wrapped around you as he slowly pushed deeper, his muscles flexing and squeezing you. You've fucked Myungho before, but his cock felt bigger and stiffer than the other times. You could also tell he was trying his best to hold back from slamming himself into you.

Once his cock was completely sheathed in you, you moaned loudly at the fullness. "You like that? Full like a slut, and taking me so well," Myungho whispered to you, his voice low and husky as he panted heavily. He turned you and pushed your against the wall, your skin touching the cold metal, and your cock rutting against the railing.

"I–just–need–more!" You moaned in pleasure, each word jutting out of you as he thrust experimentally. "Myungie, more!"

"Don't say that! I'm trying to take it easy... If I don't hold back, I might hurt you," He smirked before thrusting again. He drank up your moans, his head resting in the crook of your neck. "You keep moaning so loud, someone's gonna hear how much you love my cock. Tell me how much you need my fat cock!" He grabbed your waist and thrust harder, his other hand made its way to your hair as he pushed you more against the wall. Your hard nipples were rubbed against the cold metal of the elevator walls.

All you could do was moan and scream as he picked up the pace steadily. You whined and moaned yourself into a mess, looking at your reflection in the metal. A slut, Myungho's slut, but you loved every second of it–arching your back to meet the thrusts given to you.

"Who owns you, Kitty?" Myungho slapped your ass, and a loud crack rang in your ears.

"Y-You!" You sucked in the air sharply from the pain. Myungho was fucking you so good already, but you needed more. "Myungie! I cheated, in the game. I was naughty–please break me!" You told on yourself, listening closely to his reaction.

"What did you do, Kitty?"

"I put stuff in your water. More sex stuff, to make you wanna fuck more."

He chuckled. "Really? You just wanted to get fucked even harder, didn't you? Even cheating to make sure I would absolutely break you?" Myungho pushed into you completely, pulling you against his body as he peeled your sweaty body off the wall. "Bad boys have to be punished," He whispered in your ear as his hand left your hair and squeezed your neck. He had a tight grip on you, cutting off your air as he slowly fucked you. Each thrust was slow but hard, knocking any remaining air out of you. Your eyes rolled back as you felt dizzy, you held on for as long as you could before tapping on his hand. He released you, as you gasped for air, but he didn't give you much time to recover. Both hands tighten a grip on your hips and thrust into you harshly, shaking the elevator. He wasn't holding it back anymore.

Your walls tightened with joy as your climax approached.

"And don't you care cum before I say so?" Myungho ordered.

You already knew not to, but he was abusing your spot so hard that it was hard to hold it in.

"Fuck! I'm gonna cum–all inside you, fucking slut!" He said, breathing hard as he continued fucking you aggressively. It was a few moments before he dumped a massive load inside you, he wouldn't stop cumming and his whole body twitched. You bit your lip as you felt his load inside you. "I– can't stop cumming. Holy fuck..." Myungho bit into your shoulder as he lazily thrust his cum deeper into you.

When he finally stopped, you remembered to breathe. "Jesus... that was so good," you sighed, your whole body shaking.

Myungho pulled out of you with a loud squelch. "It's your turn, filthy cheater. I want you to cum for me." Myungho got on his knees, slipping your cock into his mouth as he jerked you off way too fast. You jerked and twitched from his roughness but moaned the loudest when you came. You came more than you have ever before, more than Myungho was expecting–cum slipped down his cheek as he tried his best to swallow it.

Once you stopped, you both took a moment to breathe before realizing... Myungho was still hard. He looked at you with a smirk. "Kitty, you're responsible for all this."

You couldn't escape him, trapped in the elevator–Myungho fucked you four more times before he finally tapped out. He had to carry you out of the elevator once it was fixed. He apologized to the apartment staff for the mess before rushing off with you–leaving them to clean a heavily cum-stained floor...

#oracle of dreams #kpop x male reader #kpop x male reader smut #x male reader #kpop male reader #x reader #x male smut #myungho #8turn smut #8turn myungho #8turn x reader

[five-rivers]

Art Nouveau Chapter 1

@scarletsaphire

Set in my 'Painting in Different Colors' series!

Danny and Frostbite had just finished their spar and were walking back to the main hall to have some frozen chocolate (much better than hot chocolate) when a group of yetis waved them over.  They looked like they'd been arguing with each other, but they didn't seem angry, just frustrated with each other.  

“What is it, Driftice?” asked Frostbite.  

Danny trailed after him, feeling a little awkward.  Was this something he should be overhearing?  Or was it some intra-tribe thing he should bow out of?  

“Flashfreeze thought there might be a color shift spinward of us, near the false horizon.”  He gestured towards that edge of the island.  

“I am not the only one who thinks there has been a change.”

Frostbite looked in the direction Driftice had indicated.  “What kind of color shift?”

“Purple, I think,” said Flashfreeze.  “Or blue, perhaps.”

“I see,” said Frostbite.  “Great One, do you detect any such change in color in that direction?  Your eyes are different from ours, and may see it more sharply.”

Danny, who had already been looking in that direction, shrugged.  “Maybe?  I think it might just be that there are a lot of doors over there, though.”

“We could get out the telescope,” said Frostbite.  

Some of the other yetis made faces of distaste at that, but Danny perked up, levitating slightly.  “You have a telescope?  What kind of telescope?  Can I see it?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.  He shot a look over Danny’s head, which Danny chose to ignore.  “It’s a rather large one.  Quite impressive, if I do say so myself.  I think you would like it.”

Danny nodded.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a telescope I didn’t like.  Unless it was, like, broken.  Or bad.  But you wouldn’t have a bad telescope, I’m sure.”

“Then we’re decided,” said Frostbite.  “We’ll see the telescope.”

“Yes!” shouted Danny, pumping his fist.  “Telescope!”

“It is this way,” said Frostbite, waving Danny towards the buildings and caves that made up the village proper.  “We keep it put away so it isn’t damaged.”

“Cool,” said Danny.  “So, is it a reflector or a refractor?”

“A refractor.  It is made of ice.”

“Of course,” said Danny, nodding.  “The lens and the tube and everything?”

“Yes,” said Frostbite.

“It must have really thick lenses, then, since ice has a lower refractive index than glass.”

Frostbite gave a great shrug.  “It is what it is.  We tend not to work with glass outside of medical settings, so the lenses seem to be the correct thickness to us.”

That made sense, overall, and for a short time, he just followed after Frostbite, glancing at the yetis behind him.  “What’s the big deal about the color being different, anyway?” he asked.  

“No one has spoken to you about the turning of the ages?” asked Frostbite, sounding surprised.  “Princess Dorathea?  Lord Clockwork?”

“Nope,” said Danny.  “Haven’t heard of that before at all.”

“One moment, Great One,” said Frostbite.  He called to the other nearby yetis, and started giving them instructions, directing them to one of the larger caves.  Together, they started the work of extracting the telescope.  

“Can I help?” asked Danny.  

“In this case, it is best to leave the work to those who know how to handle the telescope.  Now, where was I?”

“You mentioned the ‘turning of the ages?’”

“Yes, that’s right,” said Frostbite.  “Where to begin…  The Infinite Realms are made up of ectoplasm.  Ectoplasm is substantially different from normal matter.  So, the laws upon which it works are also different.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  The physics of ectoplasm was one of the things his parents studied.  He had a passing understanding of how it all worked.  

“Instead of, say, quantum spin, or quantum flavor, particles of ectoplasm might be better described in terms of color and character, qualities that go hand in hand.  On occasion, the character and color of the Realms shift.  The shift begins in one location, then spreads, until it has reached every corner of the Realms.”

“So… Ectoplasmic particles don’t have spin?”

“They do, to some degree, but that subject would require a great deal of additional explanation.  The important part is the change.”

“Right.  The change in color?”

“In color, but also in character.  In mood, or aesthetic, some might say.  Others might call it theme.”

“... I don’t get it,” admitted Danny. None of those things sounded very scientific to him.  

“Let me attempt to explain from a different angle,” said Frostbite.  “Every so often, the ambient ectoplasm of the Realms undergoes a change in color and character, which is called the turning of the age.  As the two are related, the color of the ectoplasm indicates to us the character of the coming age.  The character being how the Realms as a whole both look and behave.  The aesthetic, if you would.”

They followed the telescope up a nearby hill.  

“You are aware that different cultures had different views of the afterlife?  Some very similar, some very different?” 

Danny nodded.  

“Some of that is caused by natural portals during the relevant time periods leading to different Realms, but the larger differences can be ascribed to the portals leading to different ages.  For example, the popular conception of Hell was likely inspired by a red age.  During red ages, temperatures grow more extreme, islands crash together to form larger landmasses, ghosts take on a more monstrous, demonic mien and become more aggressive.”

“Wait, so this shift affects ghosts, too?”

“How could it not?  Like anything else, we change with our environment.  When the laws of nature change, we must adapt to them.  That being said, the internal ectoplasm of individual ghosts rarely changes color.  Yours will, in all likelihood, remain green.”

“Well, I guess I'm glad Flashfreeze thinks it's purple, then.  Red sounds kind of awful.”

“It might still become red,” said Frostbite.  “It is not at all uncommon for the color to change before the age has completely turned, or for an age to last only a very brief time.”

“So, turning into a demon is still on the table.”  As if he didn't already have enough trouble with his reputation back home.

Frostbite laughed, and patted his shoulder.  “Yes, but red ages have their good points, too.  They are exciting ages of alliances and camaraderie, and many a quiet injustice has been revealed and overturned in a red age.  But we ought to see if there even is a change in color before we speculate any more on the age to come, hm?”

“Okay,” said Danny, watching as the yetis heaved the immense telescope into position.  The white ice sides, taller than he was, twinkled in the light of the Zone.  

Flashfreeze looked through the eyepiece first.  They seemed to look for a long time, but then they stepped back and nodded, decisively.  “I was right,” they said.  “It isn't doors.  The ectoplasm over there is turning purple.”

.

“Okay, will you tell me what a purple age means now?” asked Danny, aggressively stirring his frozen chocolate with a spoon made of ice.  The telescope had been swarmed by yeti scientists immediately after Flashfreeze had made their pronouncement, and Danny hadn’t gotten a chance to look through it at all.  

“Yes, yes,” said Frostbite.  “Yes, but purple ages, or violet ages, are not nearly as easy to define or predict as some others.  They can be highly variable.”

“But they’ve got to have some common points.”

“That they do.  The principle commonality is rules.”

“I thought all of them shared rules.  All of the ages where the colors were the same, I mean.”

“Well, yes, but purple ages tend to apply more rules, and to a greater degree.  Rules similar to Frailties.”

Frailties were curses imparted by the five great rivers of the Ghost Zone.  The Styx, which bound one to promises, the Acheron, which defined uncrossable boundaries, physical and social, the Cocytus, which engendered weaknesses, the Lethe which granted forgetfulness, and the Phlegethon, which caused something like addiction, a dependence on a stimulus, most often blood or fire.  

“So, instead of demons, it’s more like vampires?”

Frostbite chuckled.  “I do not believe that has been the first guess of anyone I have ever explained this to.  Then again, I haven't explained it all that frequently.”

“Not vampires, then?”

“Vampires would not be out of the question, actually, what with their rules regarding thresholds, their diets, sunlight, and all the rest.  There was an age of vampires that was purple.  But most people think of fairies and the fae, not vampires.”

“We’re going to turn into… fairies.”

“Do not sound so skeptical.  There are a great variety of fairies, hence why purple ages are so unpredictable.”

“But fairies.”

“Or elves, or fae, or a variety of other subsets of such creatures.  Take unicorns, as an example.  While usually universally violent, when a purple age comes over the Realms, they become tamable by virgins.”

“That’s still weird,” said Danny.  

“The tendency towards rules extends to social structures as well.  That’s how it always is in these cases…  Last time we made all sorts of roles and positions and held all sorts of elections, competitions, what have you, in order to fulfill them.  Hierarchies.  Royalty and nobility are very popular in purple ages.  There is a great tendency to titles and epithets, as a depressingly common frailty is that of being bound by one’s true name.”

“Which river does that?”

“In most ages, it is a rare interaction between the Styx and the Acheron.  But in purple ages…”  Frostbite shrugged.  “Every age has something common to it that is rare elsewhere.  For example, cyan ages - that is the color between blue and green - tend to have a greater number of half humans.”

“Really?” asked Danny.  

“Truly,” said Frostbite.

“Do you think we’ll have one of those, soon?”

“Impossible to say.”

“What about red ages, what do they have?”

“Wars, I’m afraid.”

“Yeah, that sounds about right for demons.”  He shook his head.  “What else should I look out for, in a purple age?  Or is it too unpredictable?” he added, remembering some of Frostbite's earlier comments.  

“Ah, well, beyond the emphasis on rules…  Any turning of the age comes with physical changes.  It may be quite some time before you see any, the change has only just begun, but it would be wise to keep your eye out.”

“Do you think that it'll affect my human form?” asked Danny, frowning over the brim of his cup.  

Frostbite frowned as well.  “It may.  There are unfortunately few studies on the matter.”

“You'll probably be seeing a lot of me, then.”

“A silver lining, no matter how the coming age unfolds.”

Danny looked away and drank his frozen chocolate to hide how hard he was blushing.  

.

“So, you’re going to shrink and grow wings?” asked Tucker, raising an eyebrow.  

“I mean, maybe,” said Danny.  “I could also become a vampire.  Or maybe a werewolf.  Those have a lot of rules, too.”

“And Tinkerbell-lookalikes aren’t the only kind of fairy,” said Sam.  “Elves, hobgoblins, and banshees are all kinds of fairy, too.”

Due to various construction noises at Fentonworks - apparently something about the change of age had tripped some detector or other, and Danny’s parents were very excited about it - Team Phantom had retreated to Jazz’s usual haunt.  The library.  Specifically, one particular reading room in the library.  It was very cozy, with the three of them, and verged on tight when Jazz was in there.  

Of course, as soon as Danny had thought that, Jazz returned with a teetering stack of books.  She dropped them on the table as soon as she shut the door.  

Tucker sneezed.  “Blegh.  Dust.  This is why hard drives are the superior form of data storage.”

“Books can’t be defeated by magnets or overheating,” pointed out Jazz.

“Sure they can.  It’s called fire.”

“Is… is this an RPG book?” asked Danny, tugging one of the books out of the pile.

Jazz blushed.  “It’s– Well, yeah, but it’s something people did research for.  It’s all based on actual folklore and modern takes on that folklore.  I thought it would be easier to digest.”

“Gimme,” said Tucker, reaching for it.  

Danny moved it out of his reach.  

“I’ve also got the Encyclopaedia of Fairies, Collected Celtic Folklore, and a bunch of fairytale collections, of course,” said Jazz, ignoring Tucker and Danny as they wrestled over the book.  “Do you want The Dark Side of Fairytales?”

“Yes, please,” said Sam.  “I think I’d lose it trying to work through the others.”

“I was thinking we could list common weaknesses,” said Jazz.  “Physical characteristics are probably too varied, but the list of what works against fairies should be a little bit easier.”

Tucker managed to get the book away from Danny - via treacherous use of Danny’s ticklish spot - and Danny decided not to push Jazz by using his ghost powers in the library.  Sulking, he took the encyclopedia.  That, at least, would be organized.

.

“I regret all my decisions,” said Danny.  

“Is there any weakness here that isn’t contradicted by something else?” asked Sam.  

“Iron, I think,” said Tucker.  “I haven’t found anything that contradicts iron.  Unless, you know, fairy knights wear steel armor.  That’d do it.”

“Well,” said Jazz, with forced cheer, “we can still take the most common ones and test them regularly, to make sure they don’t trip you up later, right, Danny?”

“I guess,” said Danny, eying an illustration of a troll.  “I hope I don’t wind up looking like that.”

“Don’t say that,” said Tucker.  “You’ll jinx yourself.”

Danny let both the book and his head fall to the table with a thump.  

.

“Have you noticed anything?” asked Jazz, a couple weeks later.  

“No,” said Danny, as he had every time.  “I haven’t even gotten into the bathroom yet.  Give me a break.”

“I just think that you should probably get checked up.  There could be internal changes.”

Danny, who had just endured an interminable week of sex ed in health class, groaned.  “Don’t say that, that’s gross.”

“It’s not gross, it’s just the way things are,” protested Jazz.  “I know you haven’t had a chance to go since Mom and Dad started in on… whatever… but I think you really should.  Your health is important.”

“Fine,” said Danny.  “But later, and only if I can get past Mom and Dad.”

“That’s all I’m asking,” said Jazz.  

Danny felt like she was asking a lot more than that, especially so early in the morning.  He liked the Far Frozen, but it was, as the name suggested, far away.  The commute would eat up his weekend.  

“You guys’ll have to patrol without me, you know that, right?”

“It’s fine,” said Jazz.  “I’ve been practicing, and it’s been quiet.”

It had been, too.  Danny mumbled something like agreement in response and slipped into the bathroom.  

The first thing he did was poke the various iron bits that he and his friends had scraped together, on the premise that no one knew what ‘cold iron’ really meant.  There was a horseshoe nail, a broken piece of wrought iron, some regular iron filings, steel screws of various types, a lump of iron ore, and, Danny’s favorite, a tiny iron meteorite in its own case.

(Danny had taken to carrying that last one around in his pocket during the day and putting it away at night.)

None of them had given Danny so much as a rash.  That done, he checked his ears.  They weren’t pointy.  Teeth.  They weren’t sharp.  Fingers.  Had the right number of joints.  Skin.  Still a pale pink.  Eyes.  Blue, with round pupils.  He ran through the same check as Phantom, although that one naturally had different results. 

Either way, he couldn’t find any changes.  He hadn’t even grown taller, as far as he could tell, which was too bad.  He was among the shortest in his grade, although luckily not the shortest.  That honor fell on Mikey. 

He sighed.  He almost would prefer the changes to just happen already.  But he knew better than to say anything like that out loud.  

He grabbed his toothbrush.  If he really was going to the Far Frozen today, he’d need to get ready.  

.

The Ghost Zone looked different.  

Not a lot different.  The sky was still mostly green, islands and doors still floated lazily about, and small ghosts flitted to and fro.  There was, however, a haze of sweet-smelling purple mist in the air, and the grass growing on the ground had taken on a more natural hue.  

There was also a change in the quality of light and temperature of the Zone.  Most of the time, the Zone felt timeless, as if it was stuck in an eternal, neon night at the bottom of a very deep cave.  But today, it felt a lot like stepping outside on an autumn morning.  Which, incidentally, was what it was back in Amity Park.  

It was weird.  Not bad, but… weird.  Definitely weird.  

He took off towards the Far Frozen, making note of other small changes as he went.  Doors and islands, at first glance largely unaffected, seemed to be clustered closer together.  Several of the trees he passed looked alive, rather than dead.  The wind, when it blew audibly, sounded musical.  

Yes, Danny was definitely leaning towards fairies rather than vampires.  

However, Danny was only about halfway to the Far Frozen when he came upon a lair that simply should not have been anywhere near there: Clockwork’s tower, Long Now.  

Once he recognized it, he hovered for a few minutes, trying to figure out why Clockwork would be here.  None of the reasons Danny could think of were very good.  He rarely put himself so directly on someone’s path unless it was important.  And, in Danny’s experience, important often meant calamitous.  

It was a lot less disturbing when he went looking for Clockwork.  

Nevertheless, Danny shook himself and flew to the tower.  If Clockwork needed him…  Well, it was important.  Reaching the Far Frozen could wait.  

He touched down outside the large double doors, which opened immediately, and went in.  The atrium of the tower was empty, however…

Danny crouched down to look at the floor.  The last time he was here - about a month ago - this floor had been plain stone.  Now, it was inlaid with graceful swooping patterns that reminded Danny of vines, or maybe visualizations of how planets moved.  They were still somewhat indistinct, half-formed, but they described a path.  After another moment of hesitation, Danny followed.  

The path traced a spiral through Long Now, leading Danny through rooms he didn’t know existed.  As Danny went, the purple haze got thicker and thicker, to the point where Danny could swear he tasted lilacs on his tongue.  Finally, though, it deposited him in a circular courtyard.  

There was a garden in the courtyard, and at the very center of it was a tree.  Both the garden and the tree were divided into quarters.  One, had plants and trees just starting to put up new growth, and young, early spring flowers.  Another was rich and bright with full foliage and the buzz of summer insects.  The third looked much like Amity Park did now, wreathed in the golds and oranges of fall, with fruit growing on branches.  The final one was wintery, cold, but still vital with winter-blooming flowers.  

The tree at the center was partially in all four quarters, and looked it, with one quarter of the tree in bloom, a quarter in full leaf, a quarter bearing fruit, and a quarter bare.  

It was a very Clockwork garden.  

What wasn’t like Clockwork, however, was the number of other guests.  

Frostbite was there, and given the other two, Danny flew over to him as quickly as he could without damaging any of Clockwork’s plants.  The others were Fright Knight and Undergrowth.  

Clockwork, meanwhile, had his back to them, looking up at the tree.  

“Doubtless, you are all wondering why I have summoned you here,” said Clockwork, turning away from the tree to face them.  To Danny’s surprise, he was sporting a pair of legs.  He eyed them with interest.  He’d never seen Clockwork with legs before.

“The thought had crossed my mind, meddler,” said Undergrowth.  

“Before it is fully set, an age can be manipulated,” said Clockwork, gliding across the ground with small, even steps.  “Influenced.  Changed.  Not at all easily, but I have put the first building blocks into place.”  He waved his hand through the air, purple swirling after it.  “I intend to do so in your favor.”

“For what purpose?” asked Frostbite, just a touch of a growl in his voice.  

“I am not sure you would believe me if I told you.”

“I would,” said Danny.  

Clockwork smiled.  “Mischief, mainly.  I have few enough chances to divest myself of some of the Observants’ control.  This, establishing a hierarchy that they are not party to, is one of them.”

“And what hierarchy would that be, Lord Clockwork?” asked Fright Knight, his voice almost as deep as Frostbite’s.  

“The seasonal courts,” said Clockwork, gesturing to the corners of his garden.  “Summer and Winter, Fall and Spring.  The wheel of the year, all things moving in order.  With this changing of the age, seasons will come to the Realms, as will night and day, and the phases of the moon.”

“And you’ll make yourself stronger by marking the passage of time,” said Undergrowth.  “I see how that helps you, but I have no interest in that.  How will it help us?”

“Seasonal courts must have their rulers,” said Clockwork.  “I think you would serve well as the King of Summer.  And, you, as Champion of Autumn.”  He turned slightly to Fright Knight, and as he did so, his hood fell back, revealing silvery white braided hair and pointed ears.  

Actually… Clockwork had stayed in one, young and relatively handsome, form this whole time.  If Danny looked closely, the other three ghosts around him also looked more… polished, maybe.  It’d take a lot of work to make Undergrowth look like anything but a plant monstrosity, but he had more flowers growing from his vines.  Frostbite’s fur looked shinier and sleeker.  Even Fright Knight seemed less tarnished and bloody.  

Danny raised his hand to his own ears.  They weren’t nearly as pointed as Clockwork’s, but the taper was detectable.  Had the concentration of purple ectoplasm here accelerated the change?  Or had it happened when Danny first came through the portal?

“As for Chief of the Winter Court, I do not think I would ever find anyone more suitable than you, Chief Frostbite, who have managed the Far Frozen well for these past centuries.  And, finally, for our Prince of Spring, one who embodies youth, change, and life.”

Clockwork had, without Danny realizing it, gotten close enough to touch Danny’s face.  He flinched back, surprised.  

“I have ice powers, though,” said Danny.  

“As there is snow in spring,” said Clockwork, unconcerned.  

“And… I’m not sure about the responsibility.”

“You could be a figurehead.  But the symbolism is necessary, to wrest control from the Observants.  Even now, they are attempting to force things onto a path more suitable for themselves.”

“I don’t know…”

Undergrowth scoffed.  “It hardly matters.  I accept your proposal.  It has been some time since I ruled, and it’s high time I do so again.”

Clockwork nodded.  “Then stand in summer, King Undergrowth.”

“I will take on this task as well,” said Fright Knight.  He walked to the autumn section of the garden and drew his sword, setting the tip in the soil.  

“You’re doing this much, just to annoy the Observants?” asked Frostbite.  

Clockwork tilted his head to one side, regarding both Danny and Frostbite.  “There are some other forces at play as well, admittedly.  Rest assured, this path leads to the greatest good.  I cannot reveal more than that.”

“Then I accept,” said Frostbite.  “But be warned: if I should discover treachery at the end of this path, it will not go well for you.”

Well, Danny could hardly say no after all of that.  He still had to check.  “So, the greatest good?”

“That is correct.”

“And saying no, that wouldn’t lead to something on the level of, you know.  Dan.”

“Not on his level, no.  Not for you.”

Danny squinted at Clockwork.  He had to wonder if that careful phrasing was a way to get around a restriction on lying.  

But Clockwork had helped Danny, more than once.  Even if Clockwork wasn’t being entirely honest, Danny should at least return the favor.  

He scuffed his feet against the garden path, then looked up.  “What do I need to do?”

#danny phantom #phic #phic phight

[megistusdiary]

*clears my throat, takes a drink of water, and opens a scroll*

ahem.

hear ye, hear ye, it tis i, 👑 anon, here to formally request another delectable helping of thine vampire arlecchino works? i do in fact realize that it tis not the tenth month, but why let that deter us? your vampire works are simply magnificent, dear fellow!

i hath been conjuring up an idea in my cranium and it has been floating around inside there for quite some time, you see.

*drops scroll*

anyways, lemme cut to the chase here- the idea is this: werewolf reader x vampire arlecchino where they're both switches and they kinda have to fight for dominance for a bit before arle eventually overpowers the reader 👀 the rest is completely up to you, im down to read anything that you write 🙏

before i end this off i just wanna say rq that i love your works and as a writer i look up to you a lot even though ive been writing for quite some time. ty and have a nice day/evening/night 💕

the way this made me kick my feet and giggle... omg

i am so glad you enjoy vampire!arle, she's one of my favorites!!! i'd be happy to write some more for her

(also, that means so much to me, and i want you to know how honored i feel 🙏 and, welcome 👑 anon ♡♡)

(nsfw utc - tw switch!arle, werewolf!reader)

it has been said countless times, and in many forms of literature (even the ones for humans) that vampires and werewolves do not mix.

obviously, arlecchino can't quite get used to your dog smell. and you can't quite get used to how cold her skin feels.

nevertheless, you've found each other to be quite... agreeable as time has passed. you've come to seek her out, enjoying the time spent with her. she's done the same, thinking about you long after you've left for the evening.

things have progressed rather interestingly in your relationship, though. you seek one another out not only as friends, but as partners. you've found solace in her arms at night, just as she has in yours.

some nights seem to have you needing each other even more than others, full moons, in particular.

tonight, you have her on her back, your body hovering over hers. the effects of the moon have some of your more wolfish characteristics popping out. your eyes look strange, teeth growing into sharp points, nails growing out and poking holes into your bedsheets.

her bright red eyes meet your yellow-hued ones, but before she can speak, you wrap a hand around her throat, effectively cutting her off.

her hand grips yours, a silent warning you ignore with a smug smirk before smashing your lips onto hers. it's messy; teeth and tongue clashing as you fight her for dominance. it leaves you panting, spit trailing onto your skin as your tongue slides over hers.

she rolls you over, now sitting on top of you as she lets your tongue stay in her mouth. she gently nips at your lip, hearing your involuntary whimper. your hand slides off her neck from this position, causing her to gain the advantage as she grips your chin and pulls away.

"just what exactly do you think you're doing?" she asks and you groan at her, trying to pull away.

"it's a full moon! obviously, you know how this-"

she cuts you off by gripping your throat with inhuman speed, squeezing just enough to silence you. "i know what? that you're just a dumb, overgrown puppy who needs to be put back in her place? is that it?" her voice is low and dangerous, thumb sliding over your throat.

she glances at your panties, seeing you've soaked right through them and she glares up at you. "what a slut." she chastises you, tugging the fabric down anyways. she admires the slick connecting them to you before she tosses them away.

you gain back control once more, flipping her over and kissing her, your hand sliding down into her own panties, fingers rubbing over her pussy. she grunts, head falling back into the pillows as your fingers slide into her.

she allows you to play your little game just long enough to bring her to the brink of orgasm. then, you find yourself on your back once more, this time with your ass perked up. she spanks you hard, reprimanding you for bratty behavior.

her fingers find your cunt, harshly slapping your clit before sliding two fingers into you, feeling you tighten up so easily around them.

she mumbles into your ear, all sorts of filthy words as she fucks you on her fingers, pussy fluttering around her. the palm of her hand grinds into your clit, and she guides you to your orgasm only to bite into your shoulder.

you practically scream for her, blood dripping down your skin as she sinks her teeth deeper into you. she grunts, licking over the wounds as you come down from your high. "i detest the taste of most wolves, though it evades me how you, of all of them, could taste so... delectable."

she looks down at you as you pant, head lolling to the side as she peels her own panties off. she tugs you to look at her, slowly inching up your body to position her pussy over your mouth. "go on, mutt."

#👑─ 𝘢𝘯���𝘯⋆♡.* #genshin smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader smut #fem reader #genshin wlw #arlecchino genshin #arlecchino x reader #arlecchino smut #arlecchino #💌─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘮𝘢𝘪𝘭! ༊*·˚ #💐─𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘴 #🪷─𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘣𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘴 `♡´

[nkjemisin]

Hey there. I'm writing a story set in New York City and am not American. I have few characters, but most of them are arab or white. I can't help but feel a bit wrong about it, given that America is much more diverse than that, and NYC being an emblem of that. Do you think I should force myself to include more representation or should I just tell my story, and leave that more diverse cast to some other story I could write? I know this is a neverending debate and there are many opinions about it, but I've always agreed with everything you've said in matters of representation in fiction, and so I'd be curious to know your personal answer on it.

I'm a little confused by how you're using "representation," here. It sounds like you think representation = "randomly sticking BIPOC everywhere." I think when most people use that word, it means something more like "create an accurate or at least plausible depiction of a group or place." In actual New York, there are plenty of Middle Easterners and white people who live in relatively homogeneous small communities where they might only see someone of a different ethnicity on the subway. If your story is set in one of those communities -- and you do stick some random BIPOC in that subway scene, because that's plausible -- then it sounds like your characters might be an example of good representation.

(Note: if you're not writing something set in the real world, but it features human beings, it needs to represent humanity as a whole, unless there's a good in-world reason not to. But if it's our world? You can get specific.)

Here's the catch, tho: plausibility is relative. If you've absorbed some biases and haven't done enough research, then you might end up writing something that feels plausible to you, but which isn't actually representative or plausible to anyone else. The way to avoid this is to do the research and check (to the best of your ability) your biases. For example, you aren't American, I assume you've at least visited NYC? If not, you should. You can visit some of the communities I mentioned! You can eat in restaurants, visit mosques, have conversations with actual real people who are living the life you're writing about! If you don't have the time, money, or spoons to do that, there are other ways to do good research -- films and YT/Tiktok videos made by people from the communities in question, for example. But you'd need to watch a lot of them to get a good representative sample.

I recommend this book to all the writing students I've taught at Clarion, and other writer workshops: Writing the Other, by Nisi Shawl and Cynthia Ward. There's a particular part of it that seems relevant here, which is a kind of hierarchy of "appropriate" appropriation, I think first mentioned by Diantha Day Sprouse but included in Writing the Other. Basically it says that if you want to write about a culture that isn't your own, you can learn about that culture in one of several ways: a) You can be an Invader, and just go take whatever intellectual and artistic tidbits from that culture that you want, regardless of how damaging this might be to members of that group. Example: non-Indigenous people who write about actual secret practices, or who encourage the desecration of sacred places. b) You can be a Tourist, in which you're still mooching from that culture, but at least you're figuratively paying someone for it and accepting tidbits that the culture has chosen to sell. Example: getting a sensitivity reader. Or c) you can be an Invited Guest, who brings in as much as they take out, and who has formed relationships that are beneficial to all involved. Example: being part of an exchange program, both as a student and later as a host, and maintaining those friendships outside of the program.

The goal is to be an IG, but that isn't always possible. Tourist is still better than being an Invader. (...I feel like I'm leaving out a category. It's been a while since I read the book; any more recent readers want to check me here?) But the closer you can get to actually participating in that culture, the more your work will be informed by reality instead of biases or misinformation, and the more likely your work will read as plausible not just to you, but to your widest possible audience -- people familiar with the culture and people who aren't.

(I'm a little concerned about your phrasing of "force myself to include more representation," note. Why would that need to be a forced thing? A writer's goal should be to write something that feels lived-in and authentic to [if it's a real place] most people's experience -- not to meet some arbitrary standard, but because that's how you master immersion and characterization. If good immersion and characterization feel forced to you right now, that suggests you need more practice. I recommend writing short stories!)

#answered asks #long #sorry I took a while to reply #some asks require more nuanced replies #and I put this one in drafts because it was so long #then forgot it was there #and yeah I'm aware this might be a disingenuous ask #but I am choosing to treat it as good faith

[yridenergyridenergy]

Dir en grey interview translation notes around The Devil In Me

Just some of the more interesting bits from the single's booklet and from PHY vol. 25.

Kyo

He was the one who came up with the title, and the title was determined before they even attached a song to it. The band basically decided to set a date for a new single ahead of time, not too long after 19990120's release, then they had just one song selection meeting (usually, they have three) to pick a song to work with toward becoming "The Devil In Me". After scheduling a release date, they had to pick a title before even knowing what song would be part of that release for production/logistical reasons.

Kyo wrote the lyrics of The Devil In Me based on his sense of dissociation from world events, how his own issues are not aligned with what the world cares about. He finds that people's lives are sometimes pre-determined the moment they are born. It's really a reflection on: "Why am I the way I am?"

The chorus has so many layers because Kyo wanted to illustrate that inner evil, or wickedness.

While re-recording Yokan, Kyo realized that he used to sing in short bouts, taking a breath more regularly, whereas he's evolved to sing as much as he can in a single, long breath now.

The small changes made to the lyrics of Cage just serve to help Kyo feel more immersed in that old poem, but if he'd wanted to change the lyrics to represent his current mindset, clearly he would have composed a completely new, different song.

Kyo commented in PHY vol. 25 that if the producers wanted a band that sells a lot, they would have had to replace him with someone who is taller, has a nice face and that composes songs that appeal to a wider audience. But around their debut, Kyo had to bend to some of the producers' demands because he had to rely on their knowledge of what would make the band successful. He wanted to make a very dark band, but he had to accept to make songs like Yokan.

"It wouldn't be appropriate to sing about corpses and internal organs to a melodious song such as Yokan (lol)."

Kyo feels like Dir en grey is the toughest band for him to be a part of, because the band's shows are especially mentally difficult.

Kaoru

The music of The Devil In Me was Kaoru's idea.

Kaoru agrees that the song kind of ends in a way that the band could have, in the past, followed up on with a second section of the song, but they felt like ending it in a more simple way now, which still represents the band's current state.

Die

The band had a discussion in a dressing room during Tour23 Phalaris Final –The scent of a peaceful death- and that's where they came to an understanding of where they wanted to take the band next. Kyo brought them ideas on what he felt that the next single song should sound like, but in the end, at the selection meeting, the majority of the band chose a completely different song than the other of the 5 that Kyo preferred. He's fine with letting the majority win.

Die started working out in 2018 to make sure to stay in shape for stage performances, and I think that he mentioned that it's important for him to appear young and healthy so that the fans who follow the band also don't feel old.

For Die, he was in part less active on stage during the Dum Spiro Spero era because the songs were dark and complex, so he had to focus more. Because of that, he couldn't enjoy the actual shows as much.

Toshiya

Toshiya mentioned that doing commemorative tours and shows is really just fan service.

Toshiya described Dir en grey as a group of five dictators. Their enemies and friends/allies are all inside that group, and the past 25(+) years have been a continuation of challenges to bring the band forward despite this type of chemical reaction between five egos.

Apparently the band never has casual "weird" conversations where they chat about their interests of the moment, but they quietly observe the others without interacting, like by observing what kind of clothes they wear or are into.

Shinya

Contrary to the band's habit, the vocals did not even exist yet when Shinya had to compose and record his drumming for The Devil In Me. When the vocals were eventually recorded, they kind of matched what Shinya had expected.

However, overall, a couple of members of the band feel like The Devil In Me might be a song that people react to with: "I don't get it", rather that just liking or disliking it.

Shinya dissing The Marrow of a Bone again hahah.

Shinya described The Devil In Me as mysterious, inexplicable.

He started taking some lessons from Buck-Tick's "Anii" (Toll Yagami) to learn a new drumming method. In the past, at the very beginning of his career, Shinya used to wear lead weights at his ankles to hit the pedal heavier and develop muscles, but Yoshiki and other seniors told him how to actually play and he quickly got rid of the weight belts.

#Dir en grey #The Devil In Me #magazine #interview #cage #yokan #25th anniversary

[a-spes]

| ALL THE THINGS I AM NOT - One shot (3.097 words).

| Summary - Since Peter Parker joined the team, things aren't the same anymore. Why does everyone seem to prefer him to you? (Inspired by that post from @th3-c0rps3-r0gu3)

| Tags & warnings - soft mom!Natasha Romanoff x adoptive daughter!Reader, former widow!R, angst with a bit of comfort, happy ending, R&Nat are insecure (they're trying their best), self-hatred, mention of past traumas, R is injuried (during a mission), mention of blood&death.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

You wouldn’t say that you hate Peter Parker. 

It is a strong word to describe your feelings, and you don’t like what it implies. You can’t hate someone who hasn’t done anything wrong to you, someone like him. He is the opposite of a bad person, so why I am feeling that way? He is nice. That’s what everyone is saying about him, and you know they are right, even if you don’t like to admit it. He always has that smile when you two are talking, answering you kindly even when you’re trying to test his limits.

It would’ve been easier to not like him if he had any defects, but he doesn’t. You’ve tried to find some, you’ve spent hours observing him, waiting for the moment he would make a fatal mistake, but the moment never came. You even started to question if he was human.

Natasha told you that humans make mistakes all the time, and that you can’t avoid them. It’s normal, she said, that’s what makes you one. You used to think you were better than that, better than everyone, but are you? When you look at the boy, you are not sure anymore.

He is everything I am not. 

You thought you were doing good, really. You made a lot of progress, and effort, since you've joined the team. Two years ago, most of them wouldn't even agree to let you out of your room. Now, you could talk normally to almost all of them.

You thought that you were doing things right with the team, but you slowly realised that your attempts are not enough anymore. You have made a lot of progress since the first time you set foot in the compound, no one will deny it, but you are not at his level yet. 

Two years ago, you wouldn’t even step out of your room during the day, barely sleeping when the night came around, and at best you would exchange wary glances with the team. You didn’t trust them nor they did, and even if you are now talking, it hasn't changed a lot. That’s something they never told you, but their eyes and actions have done it for them. These two never lie, not when you know how to interpret them.

They don’t even let you go on a mission alone, let alone attending the most important meetings. You think it is stupid because you are the most skilled of everyone here. Well, maybe it’s not true, you never managed to beat Natasha in a fight, but you are sure that you are at least as useful as them on the field. 

I am too young, just a kid. 

That’s what they call you, but the nickname doesn’t carry the same kindness as when it’s for Peter, their voices being tinged with disdain. Except when it’s from Natasha, you like it when she calls you nicknames. She doesn’t do it because she thinks you are not capable of handling yourself, but to remind you that you have time. The time to learn, to make mistakes, to grow. You both know that you will never be a normal teenager, it is too late for that, and nothing can erase the first years of your life, but the redhead is confident : you’ll learn how to live, you just need a bit of help. 

She is the only one that doesn’t seem to treat you differently, but you are not sure if she counts. You two are the same. You have been through the same things, and she is the one that brought you here, it is obvious that she wouldn’t let you go. 

She wouldn’t, right?

You don’t know. You are not sure of anything, everything seems to go backward since he joined the team. All the progress you’ve made? Gone. In a few weeks, he did better than you’ll ever be able to do, and you don’t even understand how that’s possible.

You can beat him in a fight whenever you want, no matter the conditions. Even with your eyes closed, and your hands tied behind your back, you would be able to put him down in a matter of seconds. You are fast, strong and attentive while he is clumsy, dreamy and weak. He can’t even use a gun properly, always missing his target when it’s moving, even slowly. Whenever you are looking at him, all you can see is a kid that has no idea what he's doing here but thought it would be fun. A kid that was given a toy, and thought that it made him the most important person on that earth, a hero.

I am everything he is not. 

Yet, they prefer him, so there must be something you are missing. Since he joined the team, he has created a strong bond with all the Avengers, even with Natasha. You thought your relationship with her was special, but it’s apparently not that much. You saw them laughing together, but you’ve seen worse when you witnessed the woman ruffling the boy’s hair. You are sure she would braid the boy’s hair too if it was longer. 

Well, maybe I hate him.

You have every reason to feel this way when he was stealing what’s yours, destroying what you had taken so long to build. Only, it somehow didn’t feel right. Natasha doesn’t belong to you, none of them are. They are humans, and humans have feelings, they don’t have to get along with everyone. That’s what you’ve learned from the redhead, but you only realise now that it is not only true for you ; you can’t force anyone to appreciate you. Yet, you would have liked to live up to their expectations, something the boy seems to do effortlessly.

He is always smiling, saying the right thing at the right moment, laughing with the others. Since he arrived, he has never made anyone angry, he never had one of those violent breakdowns where you would hit someone by accident. Natasha says it is not your fault, but you know that the others don’t think the same way.

Durings meals, apart from their missions, Peter Parker is the only thing they know how to talk about. Everything he does is praised. Even the things you were doing as a kid, things you’ve never been congratulated for because everyone had to know that, it was normal. Natasha said it was not, but you are not sure if you believe her yet because if it’s not, where are your praises? 

Maybe it is because they don’t expect anything from him. He is just a kid who’s learning, not a threat to be dealt with, let alone a weapon to train. No, Peter Parker is none of that. He is nothing more than a stupid kid who’s trying his best to save the city, and it’s a story you can’t bear to hear anymore. Just his name makes you feel as if your whole body is burning. It’s a feeling you can’t name, but you are sure that you don’t like it.

He is everything I am not. 

If you saved him that day, it is definitely not because you appreciate him. You even had a moment of hesitation before throwing yourself between him and that bullet, wouldn’t your life be easier if he wasn’t here? No, it wouldn’t. 

You didn’t want to take that bullet for him, especially not when this is the consequence of his own stupidity, but it was the obvious choice. You hate being sent on a mission with him because it is like going with a baby widow. You have done everything right, he has not, and yet you are the one suffering the consequences of his recklessness. 

If he had died today, it would’ve been your fault. You know it’s not true, but you can already hear them tell you that it is. That’s why you did it, because you know they value his life more than yours. It is not easy to accept that you are not the most important person on the team anymore. In fact, you have never been there since you joined the Avengers, but you believe that it was true before. 

Those people, they have powers and technology. They can do things you will never be able to achieve, no matter how hard you try. You hate that too, that feeling of failure. Yet it is not your fault if you are trapped in a competition that you can’t win. So you thought that, maybe, if you save their precious boy, then you would get the attention you wanted. 

I didn’t want to, but I did what I was supposed to. 

Except it doesn’t feel right. The Quinjet was quiet during the return journey. You didn’t even know where the boy was, and honestly couldn’t care less. You were even relieved to know that he couldn’t witness you in a moment of weakness, leaving you alone to inspect the wound left by the bullet. You told him it was nothing, but you lied, and you don’t even need to take a close look at your abdomen to know that.

However, it wasn’t the pain that was worrying you. The only thing you could think about was their reactions. Natasha told you many times that you are allowed to make mistakes, that it makes you human, not weak, but you know she is lying. You’ve already heard Fury scolding people for their mistakes, even the Avengers sometimes fought for the same reason, and you definitely don’t want to deal with that right now.

So when the Quinjet eventually lands, you go straight to your room. You were scared to step foot in the common areas in this condition because you knew your mom was waiting for you there. Maybe she had made your favourite meal, or maybe she decided to do the boy’s favourite. This time, you can’t stop the tears from welling up in your eyes.

You’ve seen how she acts with the boy. She is so caring, always smiling, and her eyes are even shining. You don’t think it has ever happened when she is with you. Her expression is always tinged with sadness, perhaps pity. It is when you witness those moments that you realise that she deserves more than you will ever be able to give her : a normal kid. 

Maybe she realised it too.

Last night, she came home late, called in for a last-minute mission, and she missed your return by a few hours. She had no idea how your mission went, and even if she trusts you to handle yourself, she can’t help but feel concerned. She doesn’t like to know that you’re on a mission without her because anything can happen.

If Natasha was already worried, it is only when the following morning came that the feeling began to gnaw at her from the inside. She even started to bite her nails again. It was almost ten in the morning, and no one had seen you yet. They say that you are probably sleeping, and they might be right, but what if they are not?

She knows that some missions can be exhausting, and not only physically, what if it was one of those? You didn’t seem to be doing well lately. Despite the appearances, she noticed every little change in your behaviour, and she is sad to see you going backwards. She guessed that, maybe, you needed a little space, but she is no longer sure she made the right choice. She has the feeling that your relationship has deteriorated in recent weeks, almost as if you were avoiding her.

The redhead could no longer bear to stare at the hands of the medical bay’s clock, all she wanted to do was go, and check on you, but she couldn’t. She made a promise to the boy’s aunt. She glances at Peter who was asleep, he has been injured during the mission, nothing serious, he should be out of here the following morning. However, she promised her aunt to look after him when she couldn’t. 

She always keeps her promises.

Natasha didn’t bat an eye all night, but even if she had wanted to sleep, she wouldn’t have been able to. She couldn’t stop thinking. When the day came, she still had no idea what to do. Widows aren’t known to be good at expressing their feelings. The woman always felt awkward in her interactions with you, scared that her actions could do more harm than good. Maybe you weren’t the one that needed a bit of space. 

“How is she?” is the first thing the boy asked when he woke up that morning, but the frown on the Avenger’s face let him know that she had no idea what he was talking about. “We got a bit of a … situation during the mission” he explained, avoiding saying that his recklessness put them in danger, “we both got hurt, but it is nothing too serious”, he quickly added when he saw the expression on the redhead face changing suddenly.

The boy tried to reassure her, but it was too late. The woman barely heard him as she was rushing out of the medical bay. She was an idiot. She should’ve checked on you the moment she stepped foot on the compound, she should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t go to the medical bay on your own. You’ve always hated those places because it is where you are the most vulnerable.

It was almost eleven when she knocked at your door. She did it three times, but each of them was met with an oppressive silence. When she tried to open it, she discovered that it was locked. However, there isn’t a door in that world that can stop a widow. In less than a minute, she manages to open it, and enters the room.

She understands something is wrong when she sees your form under the covers. You would never stay in bed that late, being awake before she is most of the time. If at first she was hesitant to step in, she almost ran to your bed when you didn’t reply to her calling your name multiple times. Your sleep is so light that someone walking across the corridor is usually enough to wake you up in a flash.

She pulls back the covers without thinking twice about it, and the view she sees is definitely not what she would call “nothing serious”. The sheets are covered in blood, your blood, and you are not sleeping at all, she can see how you are struggling to keep your eyes open. She is not even sure you noticed her presence.

"Baby?" she tried to call again, but you didn’t react to the nickname either. "Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please, open your eyes", she said, kneeling by your side.

She shakes you slowly, but it has no effect. You don’t react before her hands grip your face, her nails leaving marks on your skin because of the brutality of her precipitous gesture. She is trying to open your eyelids to see your eyes when a whine escapes your lips.

You have no idea what’s happening, but don’t have the energy to ask the question. You just wish the woman would let you go back to your comfortable slumber, far from the pain, and that world of misery you were trapped in. But she doesn’t. Instead, she stole your blanket, leaving you shivering with cold, and she wouldn’t stop talking, worsening your headache.

When she takes you in her arms, being as careful as she could, she notices how cold you were. Yet, you seemed to be sweaty. She doesn’t waste more time, almost running back to the medical bay. You were hanging in her arms as a rag doll would, your head dangling painfully on the side, and the same was true for your limbs.

She held you firmly in her arms, constantly glaring at you, as if she feared you might disappear if she let her guard down. On the way, she kept mumbling things that you couldn’t understand, not knowing if those were really intended for you, or if it was a way to reassure herself. Maybe it was both.

When the woman pushed the medical bay door, she didn’t even need to yell for someone to come. The second the doctors saw you, they knew it was an emergency. 

It is only a few days after that they let you out of the medicine that was keeping you out. The first thing you felt was the pain you tried to ignore since you've been shot. A whine escapes your lips. You felt your mom close to you before you saw her. She probably didn't sleep or left or eat since you've been, no matter for how long it have been. You feel a bit guilty at the thought.

“Don’t you dare to do that ever again,” she whispered, holding you as close as she could against her chest. One of her hands rested on your back, gripping the soft fabric of your hospital gown, while the other one was stroking your hair, “you scared me to death …” she added, and you felt really stupid for not realising that she had always cared for you, and probably always with, but you were too blinded by jealousy to see it. 

“I am… sorry,” you managed to reply in a hoarse voice, “I was scared. I wanted to show you that I can be strong too,” you whispered, “I wanted to prove that I’m worth loving,” you eventually admitted, your voice being so low that, at first, the redhead wasn’t sure if she heard correctly. It broke her heart to realise that it was her fault. You didn’t need space, you needed her by your side, and now she was here, you wouldn’t let her go, holding her as you could, not minding the pain it caused in your abdomen. 

"But my little dove, you are already the strongest person I know, you don't need to prove it anymore to anyone,” she whispered, “and I will always love you, I won’t let you doubt it,” she added, letting you go to cup your jaws with her hands. She let her thumbs brushing your forehead before she kissed it, repeating the three words you were dying to hear the past weeks again, and again, and again.

You could both feel tears running down your cheeks.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Tag list - @godhatesgoodgirls

#a spes writing #mcu fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff comfort #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #one shot #natasha romanoff x fem!reader

[historicity-was-already-taken]

pixeljade: #it IS very much a complex issue and I feel like saying that has been pissing off a lot of folks on both sides #one fact i would add to the table is that the current actions against palestine DO constitute a genocide by definition #its a word i hear pro-Israel people get very upset by because they think it is inherently comparing this to the holocaust #but its not. some people DO and thats its own discussion. but calling it a “genocide” is simply accurate and undeniable

Speaking as someone who was that pro-Israel person in her teens and very early 20s, the reactions you're describing are 800% cognitive dissonance freak outs. Most of these people, like me, received either directly or indirectly from their Elders in the Jewish community a very trauma-induced and deeply emotional information about the history of this situation, which boils down to: "They tried to kill us all once and they didn't now we finally have returned to the Promised Land, the only place we have to shield ourselves against It Happening Again. Israel's detractors hate that Jews can defend themselves now, and if any of them, including the Palestinians, were to have their way, they'd see us all dead. We must defend ourselves at all costs, and not let anyone ever put us in existential danger as a people ever again."

And then to have some rando 19 year old who knows jack shit about your or your community or your community's trauma to get up in your face and start screaming at you about genocide? It's only going to trigger that intergenerational trauma, and cause the party being screamed at to dig deeper into their defensive, cognitive-dissonance fueled response. Which, if we were to boil that response down to a thought process, looks like "This person hates me and all Jews. They think we're a hive mind who don't deserve to live. Thank G-d for Israel."

What's complex, is that not everything in that trauma response is wrong, and not everything the dumbass 19 yo who has no interest in unpacking their own learned anti-Semitism was wrong.

Israel's actions towards Palestinian Arabs since 1948 does fit several definitions of genocide and/or ethnic cleansing. And many of the Westerners who scream about it the loudest are fairly openly anti-Semitic.

Now, as someone with big Holocaust intergenerational trauma in her family, I am sympathetic to the Jewish kid in this scenario. But cognitive dissonance is just that: the domain of a child. Adults understand that cognitive dissonance is a little voice in our head telling us "Hey comrade our discomfort with this is a little much. Maybe this is a learning opportunity?"

I mean, that's what I did. But it's difficult. Its uncomfortable, and that scares people. It's much easier to believe that "They call it the Naqba because they hate us and think our survival and access to national self-determination is a disaster,"* than it is to understand that "They call it the Naqba because it was the near total dispossession and ethnic cleansing of Palestinian Arab populations from their generational homes and properties."

And again, everything I'm saying here is a result of my journey from a hardcore Zionist-in-the-contemporary-sense child (though always left in terms of domestic US Politics), to a grown Holocaust historian who understands that Israel is no better and no worse than all the other nation states (for new readers, I understand the nation-state as a political entity, the logical end point of which is genocide and/or ethnic cleansing), and openly criticizes it on those grounds.

*A rabbi in a youth group I belonged to told me this almost verbatim when I was 15. And when you're 15 and somebody tells you they love you you're gonna believe them.

#this post is clunky but i have a fever so w/e #i have great love and compassion for my community as an american jewish woman #so much of how american jewry remembers the history of israel is shaped by our collective trauma #sometimes in ways that we ourselves don't understand #i'm not here to shit on them #but i am here to compassionately call them in #and the only groups who i don't expect that compassion from #are actual palestinians

[abstractnaturaldisaster]

is it over now? (was it over then?)

part four

part five: i was hoping you'd be there

Robin managed to keep her shit together for approximately ten minutes after she stopped watching Steve make his way through security and into the depths of the airport. In the ride back to Steve's place, her leg was shaking so much Nancy discreetly grabbed Robin's pinky and held it in the back of the car.

The rest of the trafficky route back to Steve's all Robin could think about was how to fix things. She knew Steve didn't tell her about Eddie so she could fix things and Steve didn't run off to Italy to hide from everything but the situation still bothered Robin. She hadn't known Eddie for a terribly long time but he made her dingus happy so she held him in relatively high regard. It didn't make sense for him to just cut tail and run without leaving some sort of door open for a resolution and Robin was going to her darndest to figure out how on earth she could find that crack.

When they got back to Steve's apartment, Nancy didn't let Robin go long without asking for an explanation.

"Robs, babe, what is going on?" Nancy asked.

"I need to figure out how to solve Steve and Eddie." Robin answered.

"I don't think Steve wants you too. He seemed pretty resolved to close that chapter." Nancy urged.

"I know what he said but that's not what he wants. Also Eddie is a huge dummy if he doesn't realize how good he had it with Steve and also that Steve would never cheat on anyone. Especially not after y'all's whole thing. No offense." Robin continued.

"Okay so we aren't letting this go. What's the plan?" Nancy asked.

"Thanks for your support, love. I just can't figure out why Eddie jumped to the conclusion that you and Steve were together again. I mean no offense but like that ship very publicly sailed," Robin said.

"I'm trying really hard not to take offense but the more often you say it the more I am having trouble not being offended," Nancy snarked.

"Sorry, dingus wormed his way into my little heart long before you so I still gotta give you shit over soulmate solidarity. But back to the matter at hand. Eddie only assumed you would only be visiting Steve if you were trying to get back together when really you were coming to see little old me. So what if I came out. Like what if we came out? And shared some of the pictures from like super early on and thanked Steve for being a great friend for many years when I wasn't ready to take that step," Robin knew she was rambling but, hell, she was on a roll.

"Are you ready for that? I'm happy to take your lead on all this. It's not like we haven't already told everyone who is actually important to us. I mostly write freelance nowadays anyways so there isn't really some big bag corporate overlord I need to worry about. You know Steve doesn't need you to do this? It's one thing if you're ready to come out on your own, it's a whole different thing to do it for someone else," Nancy counseled.

"I really think I'm ready. I'm sick of Steve feeling like he needs to come to everything with me and you're stateside a lot more often and I'd love to go out on dates without the next day having like a million articles speculate if you're trying to move in on Steve. I think it's time," Robin rationalized.

"All right, then. We're doing this. Should we use this as an excuse to make Jon take cute couple pictures of us?" Nancy giggled a little at her suggestion.

"Yes! Perfect. Get him over here. Operation Save Dingus from his Self Sacrifice is a go!" Robin jumped up on the couch to make her point and Nancy immediately had to come to her aid as she wobbled enough to lose her balance.

Robin was excited. She was ready for the next step with Nancy and if it helped Steve get out of his own head and/or convinced a certain metalhead with very few remaining braincells to get his head out of his ass then so be it. Robin couldn't wait to think of all the sappy shit Nancy would pretend to be annoyed at she'd be able to do now. Steve would be back in a few weeks so Robin anxiously awaited Jon's response and started several caption ideas in her notes app.

@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy @grtwdsmwhr @dreamercec @anne-bennett-cosplayer @strawberryyyenthusiast @mensch-anthropos-human @kal-ology @ttyrussss @kristmkris @starman-jpg @wonderland-girl143-blog @child-of-cthulhu @legalmenace87 (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)

it's not quite fixed yet but we are getting so close!!!

#steve x eddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie fic #steddie #don't worry robin will fix it #angst #angst with a happy ending #rockstar eddie #actor steve #was it over then ficlet

[becausegoodheroesdeservekidneys]

ELINOR SOS

I am the student anon from a while ago who was concerned because my prof made an oblique comment about "knowing when people use AI on their assignments"

I often collaborate with a friend in the course on homework assignments (something that is encouraged so long as you name your collaborators when you turn in) and i found out recently that she DOES use chatgpt sometimes. we'll each work on papers separately and then compare ideas and make edits if either of us included something the other missed. i never copy her words but i'll incorporate her ideas if i feel they're useful.

this brings me to 3 questions:

1) does the prof know she uses AI, and does the prof by extension believe that i do, since i name her as a collaborator?

2) is there a way for me to kindly tell my friend i think this is ludicrous behavior and cut it the fuck out

3) is there a way for me to distance myself from my friend in the eyes of the prof without seeming like a total snitch or hardass or what have you

thanks in advance !!!!!!

prev anon:: I MISSPELLED YOUR NAME I AM SORRY elanor elanor elanor so sorry

LMAO you're fine, no worries!

Hmm, okay, so some of this is outside my wheelhouse as a lecturer the other side of the world - this is not to say I'm not going to share my opinions regardless, but just a reminder that I am not, for example, an authority on taking friends to task for using ChatGPT

Anyway the easiest (and most advisable) answer to all of this is to stop collaborating. Up until this point, you're fine, because you simply didn't know - if you get accused of anything you have plausible deniability, because you literally didn't know. It's worth pointing out, though, that you would probably already have been given a formal warning or taken to an academic misconduct board by now if you were suspected on past work - at least, that would be the case over here. We don't hang about if we have suspicions.

Whereas, from this point onwards, if you turn in a collaborated piece and she then gets accused of plagiarism, you are now in a position of having willingly collaborated with a known plagiarist, which opens you up to questions like "So you knew there was a chance that her inputs could have been Chat-generated and you used them in your own work anyway?" and that's a lot harder to defend against.

As to the rest of it, though:

No, probably not. She'd likely have been called on it by now, as would you.

Hmm. I think I personally would approach this with "I'm so sorry, my anxiety is through the roof and I just don't feel comfortable collaborating with you because you use ChatGPT. My brain is now irrationally terrified that it's somehow obvious to the professor and imploding from the pressure." And then if she wants to get into it further, you can discuss the issues with it. HOWEVER mileage can and will vary on that strategy - that's how I would phrase it to avoid her feeling judged, see, but depending on how good a friend she is and a whole bunch of other factors, you might prefer to go BITCH WHY DON'T YOU JUST MARRY THE FUCKING ROBOT IF YOU LOVE IT SO MUCH and block her number. Or, you know. Something along the scale.

Just stop collaborating. Nothing more needed.

The other thing I will say is that I think you're probably assuming more surveillance and oversight from your professor than actually exists. It IS obvious when you find a Chat-generated section, but I can't help but wonder if telling a class "We know that some of you are using it, btw. We won't say who but we can tell. So stop doing that." is actually a lie designed to scare compliance before it becomes a problem. Like. That feels like a lie to me. That feels like "Say it now and then they won't try it." Because if they actually knew, there would be formal proceedings, not oblique little warnings.

Anyway! I hope this is useful.

#asks #chatgpt #the professional world of careers and tasks

[barelylivingscholar]

Arlecchino with a daughter prt. 3

Arlecchino with a daughter prt. 3

And before I knew it, a month had passed. Under the banner of “Regrator,” I had been learning a lot under his guidance. I started to look like him as well. Everything about my appearance had been designed to match his… It wasn’t something that I had decided right away, but it was more of a branding for me. To better match his image as his “disciple,” rather than to feel like I still am a part of the House… I discard the clothing that I wore before and burned it. It was a clothing that was too similar to the outfit of “Knave.” The color… And the designs… It’s too much of a coincidence… She continues to haunt me in my dreams, that I wake up in the middle of the night… Sweating profusely at the prospect of returning at the House and to meet her once again inevitably.

Pantalone had decided that I should not return to Fontaine as a safety measure for me since the “Knave” had been informed of my return that day… He told me about her sending letters to him about my wellbeing and demanded that he return me back to her house… In which, I had been assured again and again that I won’t be returning back to the House at all… Pantalone plans to keep me as his disciple. Although I am still shaken up by her now and then, I grew to resent her more as days would pass…

I began to see Pantalone as the closest familial figure that I have as it was only natural, I felt that way due to how well he has taken care of me. I used to think that I am more or less just a servant to him. He had trained well to see him as his “business partner.” More or less, we do indeed have a transactional relationship. But I know there is more to it. H̴̴e̴ ̴j̴̴u̴̴s̴̴t̴ ̴w̴̴o̴̴u̴̴l̴̴d̴̴n̴’̴t̴ a̴̴d̴̴m̴̴i̴̴t̴ ̴t̴̴h̴a̴̴t̴ ̴I̴ ̴i̴̴n̴̴f̴̴l̴̴u̴̴e̴̴n̴̴c̴̴e̴̴d̴ ̴h̴̴i̴̴m̴ ̴j̴̴u̴̴s̴̴t̴ a̴̴s̴ ̴h̴̴e̴ ̴i̴̴n̴̴f̴̴l̴̴u̴̴e̴̴n̴̴c̴̴e̴̴d̴ ̴m̴̴e̴ a̴̴s̴ ̴w̴̴e̴̴l̴̴l̴…̴ He had introduced me to Pulcinella, who in return, mentored me during my visits in the other branches of the Northland Bank with Pantalone. He mentors me exceptionally well that I grew to respect him in the same manner as Pantalone. When I am unable to accompany Pantalone, I am with Pulcinella. He takes care of me well. Too well that there is something more to it.

Pulcinella would come to tell me stories about the “Knave,” that made me despise her even more. He warns me about her madness. Pulcinella had successfully managed to deter me from ever seeing the “Knave” in a positive light. The remnants of her teachings still remain. It is not easy to break free from it. Somehow, I still felt guilty for leaving the House. But I will never admit to it at all. I was led to believe that she cared for me, and had loved me the best out of the many children from the House, so how was I supposed to hate her, right? If only that was how I felt. ̶I̶ ̶b̶̶a̶̶r̶̶e̶̶l̶̶y̶ ̶f̶̶e̶̶l̶̶t̶ ̶i̶̶t̶ ̶a̶̶t̶ ̶a̶̶l̶̶l̶. She was a liar. ₴₮Ø₱ ₮ⱤɎł₦₲ ₮Ø ₲Ɇ₮ ₥Ɇ ฿₳₵₭. ł ₩łⱠⱠ ₦Ø₮ ⱤɆ₮ɄⱤ₦ ₮Ø ɎØɄ. ł Ⱨ₳₮Ɇ ɎØɄ.

Pantalone informs me that we will be arriving soon at the House of the Hearth. I mentally prepared myself as we make a trip to the House… I kept my hood up and my head down during the duration of the trip. Pantalone informs me of the project in collaboration with Pulcinella, one that involve the members of the Hearth… He plans to give them a great deal of funding, to make them the “key members” of the project… Project Stuzha; A project that supposedly sets the Fatui’s future. I have yet to meet “Tartaglia” or Childe as he is frequently mentioned in this conversation. I couldn’t care less how the project would turn out. I only care about the amount of Mora that is put on this project. Pantalone really is a generous man. Too generous.

I clicked my tongue as we arrived at the destination. There were many children that were staring at my figure, probably shocked that I am alive and well. Dressed in expensive clothing, glasses that are studded with eye-catching jewelries, and with a cloak elegantly placed on my shoulders… I almost looked like the man himself. Pantalone held a closed-eye smile as he greeted the children. Then, the door opened. It was her. The woman that I grew to resent. The knave. I adjust my glasses to hide my growing anxiousness as the memories came back. I stifled a shaky sigh. ̶I̶ ̶f̶̶o̶̶r̶̶c̶̶e̶̶d̶ ̶m̶̶y̶̶s̶̶e̶̶l̶̶f̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶c̶̶a̶̶l̶̶m̶ ̶d̶̶o̶̶w̶̶n̶ ̶u̶̶s̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶4̶-̶7̶-̶8̶ ̶t̶̶e̶̶c̶̶h̶̶n̶̶i̶̶q̶̶u̶̶e̶. Pantalone greets the “Knave” politely. While the “Knave” eyes me down, her crossed eyes narrowing at the sight of my appearance. ̶S̶̶u̶̶r̶̶p̶̶r̶̶i̶̶s̶̶e̶̶d̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶s̶̶e̶̶e̶ ̶m̶̶e̶? Her eyes stayed on me, while speaking with Pantalone.

“I see you have brought yourself a new child. A child from the Hearth.” I froze at her words. She continued to stare at me deeply. “What was the reason for not returning the child from my orphanage, Regrator?” She hissed at him. Pantalone paid no mind at the hostile tone aimed at him. “You are mistaken. I did not take an orphan from the Hearth. I offered Anastasia to be my disciple after saving them from an ambush by a cryo abyss mage.” Pantalone countered. I glanced away at the two adults talking, to see Freminet staring at me. I gave him a brief nod, and I was then met with a familiar pair of twins looking in my direction as well… Lyney and I briefly stared each other down for a short while, before my attention went back to the voice of the “Knave.” “Nonsense. She would’ve returned to the house had you not manipulated her to come with… You must’ve threatened my daughter for her to work with you.” The “Knave” accused.

I rose a brow at the comment. Blinking slowly as I take in the words she had said to Pantalone. I decided to speak up before Pantalone could reply, “My mentor had come to visit the orphanage for a proposal. The “Regrator” has other business to attend after the meeting, I suggest to keep the exchange brief, “Knave.”” I didn’t miss the way her eyes widen slightly at the sound of my voice. The children were shocked to hear me interrupt the harbingers heated exchange. I simply brushed off my coat, in an attempt to feign nonchalance at my action. ̶I̶̶f̶ ̶o̶̶n̶̶l̶̶y̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶̶y̶ ̶c̶̶o̶̶u̶̶l̶̶d̶ ̶s̶̶e̶̶e̶ ̶m̶̶y̶ ̶h̶̶a̶̶n̶̶d̶̶ ̶s̶̶h̶̶a̶̶k̶̶e̶ ̶a̶̶s̶ ̶I̶ ̶a̶̶t̶̶t̶̶e̶̶m̶̶p̶̶t̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶s̶̶t̶̶o̶̶p̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶t̶̶r̶̶e̶̶m̶̶o̶̶r̶̶s̶.

The “Knave” went silent for a short while. Before answering in a calm and collected manner. “Very well. We can discuss the matters in my office.” She then went ahead of us. I went to discreetly grip the hilt of my dagger tightly. ̶I̶ ̶a̶̶m̶ ̶r̶̶e̶̶l̶̶i̶̶e̶̶v̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶ ̶t̶̶h̶̶e̶ ̶m̶̶e̶̶m̶̶o̶̶r̶̶y̶ ̶o̶̶n̶̶c̶̶e̶ ̶m̶̶o̶̶r̶̶e̶… ̶M̶̶y̶ ̶b̶̶o̶̶d̶̶y̶ ̶h̶̶a̶̶d̶ ̶r̶̶e̶̶f̶̶u̶̶s̶̶e̶̶d̶ ̶t̶̶o̶ ̶m̶̶o̶̶v̶̶e̶. Pantalone snapped me out of it as I hear his voice. “You have the option to stay behind. I’ll make it quick.” I shook my head, clearly uneasy at the thought of being surrounded by children from the Hearth. “No need. I’ll come with. I have so much to learn about socializing with people like her…” My voice had a trace of venom at the last word, luckily no one dared to point it out. Children were still staring at us, as we walked inside the house, on the way to the “Knave’s” office…

The walk to her office felt so short, that it just made me realize of how much dread I felt from before I decided to escape from the orphanage. ̙̥̻̰̻̀͡T̩̙̰̬͙͖̝̙̲̰͚̗͓͝ͅh̢̛̟̲̘̯̙͈̫̹̜͢͠ͅȩ̣̰͓̻͎͡ ̧͈͇̘͎̫͙̰̗̩s͇a͏́͏̧͖͍̞̥̰̣̼̘̱̰̥͟͜m̵̧̛̯͖̺̥̘̯̙͈̫̹̜͢ͅȩ̣̰͓̻͎͡ ̹̖̘ḑ̡̱̥̜̺̘͍͚̻̤́ŗ̸̛̲͙͉͓͚̘̯̙͈̫̹̜͢ͅȩ̣̰͓̻͎͡a͏́͏͖͍̞̥̹̖̘ḑ̱̥̜́ ̨̣͕͉̫̜ͅI̴̞̦̦̗̥ a͏́͏̧͖͍̞̥̰̣̼̘̱̰̥͟͜m̵̧̯͖̺̥ ̝̺̠̖̭́͟͝f̷̛̩̲͈̘̯̙͈̫̹̜͢ͅȩ̛̣̰͓̻͎̘̯̙͈̫̹̜͢͡ͅȩ̣̰͓̻͎̜͔̘̰͇́͡͠l͏̘̜̭̤̱͇͞҉͏̫̼̜͉̭i̙͙̙̥̰̯͎̘̖̹̦̙͝͞n̴̫̘͈͈͈̳̩̳̞͔̭̤̩͍͢g̨̪̣̤͎̟͟͠ ̖̹̦̙͝͞n̴̛̛̫̘͈͈͈̳̩͢ͅớ͈̙̦̗͖̜w͚͈̟̬̩… Pantalone had opened the door. I stepped inside after Pantalone. I forced myself to calm down using the same breathing method I use to alleviate my anxiety. The meeting went well. Too well… The whole time I was being watched by the “Knave”, her eyes were observing me during Pantalone’s breakdown of the project. I didn’t like that. I felt uncomfortable.

Despite her eyes were on me, I was able to keep a straight face, and was able to maintain my composure from the start till the end… The “Knave” would eventually request my presence after the successful meeting, to which Pantalone had left the decision in my hands, whether I accept or decline her request. To both their surprise, I agreed. Pantalone looks at the “Knave” warily before handing me a tracker before he left.

“You now go by the name Anastasia. Why is that? Was it a name that he picked for you?” That was the first question being asked by her. “No. Pulcinella picked it for me.” Her eyes had narrowed at the mention of the “Rooster.” “Who else did you meet other than the “Rooster?”” She interrogated. I was left confused. Why is she asking me these questions instead of asking why I left? “None. It is only my mentor and him that I met.” Her suspicions didn’t stop from there. “Do you happen to know the “Doctor?” Had you met him before?” I went stiff at the mention of the “Doctor.” “No. I do not want to meet him.” The “Knave” seemed to be pleased by my answer. “The “Doctor” and “Regrator” work closely. I can shield you better than Regrator. You just have to come back to the House… I will not let harm come upon you.” The “Knave” attempts to sweeten the deal. I didn’t fall for it easily.

“I humbly decline the offer. My mentor takes care of me well enough to keep me safe from any possible harm to befall upon myself.” I didn’t like how my voice went a bit shaky… “So, you are saying that Regrator is protecting you better than I did for you. Is that what you imply?” My eyes widened at her tone. I didn’t like when her voice gets like this. “…I am not implying anything. I am saying that, I am in good hands, “Knave.”” I flinched as I hear the sound of wood being scratched. This was not good… “You have changed your identity. From clothing to a new name… Are you sure that he did not force you to change drastically?” My brows were now furrowed. “Pantalone never forced anything on me. It was I who made the decision to change my own identity. I did it for branding.”

Her tone went sharp. “Since when were you ever interested in business? I never strike you the type to be interested in such matters…” My eye twitched. This is getting ridiculous. “What are you trying to say? That I am not suited to be my mentor’s disciple?” I tried to sound calm but my agitation was taking over… “I am saying that you perform best under my guidance.” Her response surprised me.

At this point, I was unable to refrain from making unnecessary commentary anymore. “What makes you think that my performance was better when I was on your side? Did you never notice how miserable I was during my stay here in this house?” I am distressed. I fell into her trap, again. “I knew you were alive. I refused to believe that you were dead. I know my daughter very well that she is able to defend herself well.” The “Knave” was smiling. ̶I̶̶t̶ ̶w̶̶a̶̶s̶ ̶u̶̶n̶̶s̶̶e̶̶t̶̶t̶̶l̶̶i̶̶n̶̶g̶.

I took a step back as she rose from her chair. “No… Stay back…! She is dead! I am not her!” My voice trembled; I was shaking due to how intense my fear was… “No. My daughter has come back to me. She is alive and well. She is right here in front of me.” The “Knave” went closer… I felt trapped. Unable to move as she stepped closer and closer to me… “Welcome back, dear daughter…” Was what she said before attempting to embrace me. But before I knew it, I was then pulled away by Pantalone. He came just in time to save me from the “Knave’s” attempts to take me back to the house… An: I was supposed to post earlier but ended up posting wayyy late... I'll be having a break writing this to think about the plot more and the alternate routes that I planned to write. Till then! I also appreciate the likes, the reblogs, and follows. Because I cannot believe people actually read this... If there's a new post it's either that it's a new part or a silly short story that I will write about. Idk which fandom I'll be writing for, though!

#platonic genshin impact #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #platonic genshin x reader #fatui harbringers x reader #pantalone x reader #arlecchino x reader

[jazminrhode1]

hiiii! if you're stil writing can you please write one where matt sturn and reader are just so in love and he cant stop telling people about her?

The Interview Matt Sturniolo x Reader One Shot

Matt was onto his 6th interview of the day. He set up his laptop at the kitchen table and you’d been sitting across from him all morning waiting for him to be done.

“Hi Matt,” you heard the interviewer say. He was less nervous now that he’d had some practice.

They asked the same old generic questions like, how his brothers were, how he came up with the idea for this project, and what inspired it. But, out of left field, they asked about you.

You saw Matt squirm in his seat across the table. “I hope that doesn’t cross a line,” she said sweetly.

“No,” he said, shaking his head a little too aggressively to be casual.

He looked at you and you glared right back. You hadn’t had this conversation in a while. You hadn’t spoken about keeping your relationship offline in the beginning but, it had been 2 years and things were different. Everyone knew and they reacted terribly but, the dust had settled since then.

You saw the look in his eyes. He was asking permission and you gave it to him with a shrug.

He let out a deep breath, his shoulders relaxed; he looked happy.

“Y/n is great, actually,” he said with a smile.

“I know you don’t talk about her often but, I was wondering if you could tell us a little bit about how you both met?”

“Oh,” he said, “Well, she’s a good friend of Madison and we were all hanging out there a lot and, it just happened. She’s great. She’s perfect. She feels more like my home than any house ever did.”

You swallowed down the lump forming in your throat. It wasn’t often that you got to hear how Matt talked about you to other people. Sure, your friends told you that he gloats about you any chance he got but, you never heard it from him.

The next interviewer asked what made Matt fall in love with you and he explained, “Y/n is beautiful. Even more so on the inside if that’s possible. But, it wasn’t any one thing that made me fall in love with her. It was the love she has for her family, it was the way her smile lights up a room, it’s the kindness she shows to strangers, it’s the way that she can get through to me when no one else can. She’s the first person I reach for in the morning, she’s the first person I want to call with news good or bad, she’s my best friend and she is my favourite person in the world.”

His eyes were so intense on you that you thought he could read all of your thoughts. It was often like that. He was so attuned to you, so perceptive to your needs, so receptive to your feelings. Matt was, in so many ways, perfect. You could not have dreamed him up.

The final interviewer asked the same age-old questions. You mocked him behind the screen and Matt did his best not to laugh. He was tired, you could tell. As the interview came to an end, the interviewer asked one final question.

“You’ve gotten into writing a lot, I’ve seen a few passages that you shared on Instagram. What inspires you the most?”

Without hesitation, Matt said, “Y/n. She inspires everything that I do. I read a quote once that said, ‘If a writer falls in love with you, you can never die.’ I like to think that if I write about all the people and the things that I love, I can never really lose them, you know? Even if y/n chose to leave me, I’d always have a piece of her with me”

There was silence on the other end. You started to think they lost connection.

“I think there’s a lot of people out there who 

“I’ve fucked up a lot of relationships but, I think it all needed to happen so that I can be the person I am now for y/n. You need to be open and receptive and believe that you deserve to find happiness with another person. Y/n is a much better person than I am but, no one will ever love her as much as I do. And I do. And I show her every day and I will for the rest of my life.”

Matt shut the laptop when the interview wrapped and pushed his chair back from the table. You walked around and sat on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and placing a gentle kiss on his lips. His arms snaked around your waist as he nuzzled his head in the crook of your neck.

“I’ve never heard you talk about me before,” you said.

“I feel sorry for people. You’re all I ever talk about,” he replied with a smile.

Matt loved you. You knew that with every fibre of your being but, today showed you just how much.

#Sturniolo Triplets #Matt Sturniolo #Matthew Sturniolo #Matt Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matthew Sturniolo Fan Fic #Matt Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matthew Sturniolo Fanfiction #Matt Sturniolo One Shot #Matthew Sturniolo One Shot #Matt Sturniolo x Reader #Matthew Sturniolo x Reader #Sturniolo Triplets Fan Fic #Sturniolo Triplets Fanfiction #Sturniolo Triplets One Shot #Chris Sturniolo #Nick Sturniolo

[winwintea]

secure that card! 04. refund date

Chenle couldn’t help but feel a little remorseful as he watched you limp out of your dorm building in crutches. 

“Hey” He waved, as he rolled down the window.

You gave him a sideways glance, looking at his 2024 Mercedez GLE63, and then back at him, “A little help, please?” 

His expression hardened, as he quickly scurried out of the car, running around to grab the designer bags from your hands. You hoisted yourself into the passenger seat, and he laid your crutches and bags on the backseat. 

When Chenle started driving, you decided to make small conversation. “I’m, sure you’ve read my hospital records but let’s pretend like that never happened. I’m Y/n L/n. Nice to meet you.” “Zhong Chenle.” He smiled, still looking at the road. “Sorry for running into you.” Your face relaxed a bit as you shifted into the seat, slumping your head back, “It was my fault anyways. I should’ve been looking for cars when recklessly crossing the street.” you added, sighing, “My boyfriend had just broken up with me, right before the accident. Wasn’t really thinking clearly.” “Boyfriend…?” Chenle asked curiously, eagerly listening to you speak. 

“Oh yeah.” You gave him a helpless smile, as the mood started to turn a little sour.

Chenle picked up on this, and he didn’t want to lose this perfect opportunity to get you to open up more, so he tried to crack a light joke, “Honestly I’m just glad you didn’t sue me.” He ran a couple of fingers through his hair before turning to look at you for the first time since he had started driving.

“Are you kidding? You paid for my medical bills. That’s more than I needed.” He chuckled, continuing to focus on the road again, “It was the least I could do for you. And now you won’t even accept the other gifts.”

Before you could answer, Chenle quickly changed the subject, “So how long have you been here?” You looked at him curiously, wondering about the sudden change of subject, “Do you mean on campus? Or like in general.” He realized that the question was phrased in a weird way, and corrected himself, “Well I’m from Shanghai, so i’m not a native here. However, you seem to have no accent, so I can merely assume you’re from the US? Am I correct?” “Oh!” You smiled, and Chenle seemed to notice some sparks of light reflected by the sun that seemed to lit up from your eyes. It made you seem even more beautiful. “Born & raised here. Live laugh love.” You sighed again, resting your head on the headrest. You two were almost at the mall, already pulling into the parking lot. “It must be hard to live away from home.” “Actually, it’s quite nice. Living abroad is a fun challenge.” Chenle wondered how the conversation had suddenly turned on him. At least he knew now that you were in fact a US citizen, which was key to his task. Now for step two: How to win you over?

“I’ve never heard anyone describe it as 'fun'.” you looked at him, puzzled. “Well…” He took a breath, steering the car into a parking spot. “I’m glad to be the first.”

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SUMMARY ▸ zhong chenle is the owner of many cards. a black card? he owns that. he even has a stanford student id card. the one card he doesn’t own though? a green card. and if chenle plays his cards right, he just may be able to secure one by wooing you. or it could all fall through… who knows?

TAG LIST ▸@marvelahsobx @lyvhie @odxrilove @jkslvsnella @aquaphoenixz @wonnieluv @acidwon @syatchy @sleepyvic @grassbutneo @chcnlcs @taeeflwrr

#to all men: “nice collarbones” is not a compliment #do not flirt like chenle thanks #thanks have a great day #nct #nct dream #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fic #chenle #nct 127 #nct x reader #nct dream fic #zhong chenle #zhong chenle x reader #chenle x reader #chenle x y/n #nct dream social media au #nct dream smau #nct smau #nct social media au #chenle smau #chenle social media au #nct dream hard hours #nct hard hours #nct dream series #nct dream imagines #chenle hard hours #zhong chenle fic #chenle scenarios

[scorpioriesling]

Random Tropes HC (pt. 2)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairing(s): Lucien / Eris x reader

Warnings: slight sexual suggestions

Summary: Random tropes, and how each would play out, depending on the character... and you, of course.

SR’s Note: I saw a filter on Tik Tok where you can rank book tropes, and this idea came to mind. I am using my top 6 (not in order) for the purpose of these posts -- enjoy! Part 1

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Lucien - "Only One Bed"

You were definitely crushing on Lucien -- who wouldn't?

You were close with him and Tamlin, working at the Spring Manor until you became more than an employee, but a friend.

Well, a friend to Lucien anyway.

Tamlin took note of how well you were able to spy, and turned you into his own personal Spymaster.

You didn't mind too much -- after a while, Tamlin warmed up to you. He also appreciated how you made Feyre feel more comfortable when she first arrived in the Spring Court.

As fate would have it, you and Feyre were a lot alike.

It didn't take long to see what was going on. She was planning to run.

Over the last few months, Tamlin grew more enraged, more angry at the world. You couldn't stay, you knew you had to get out.

And Cauldron be damned, Lucien was coming with you.

He wasn't happy about it at first, especially when the two Night Court warriors winnowed Feyre away and left the two of you to walk the rest of the way to the Night Court.

"Do you think he will change?" Lucien asks you, the cold wind ruffling his hair. You shiver against the wind.

"No," you say after a long moment. Lucien pulls you close to him, heat radiating from his body against the chill.

"I don't know if we could ever go back." He says. You sigh and bury closer to him, trying to keep in step with his long legs.

"I don't think he'd allow us back." You say. Tears prick the back of your eyes, but you blink to keep them at bay. Lucien changes the conversation, happier topic chosen this time. He is talking about all the delicious food the Night Court must have when you finally spot a motel in the distance.

"Our salvation!" Lucien gasps. He grabs you by the arm, pulling you with him as he breaks into a jog. You're panting trying to keep up, but you finally make it to the building.

"We're just about sold out." The stocky female behind the desk murmurs. Lucien sighs and runs a hand through his hair. You're standing behind him, and you place a delicate hand on his shoulder. He turns to you, gaze softening.

"Ma'am, we'll take whatever you have left." You say. She rummages through her drawers, presenting a single golden key on a long corded string.

"Floor 2. Last door on the right." She huffs. You anxiously take it from her, looping the string around your neck. The key dangles like a pendant on a necklace as you take Lucien's hand in yours and lead him upstairs.

Some salvation this is.

There's only one bed.

A blessing in disguise.

"Cauldron..." he sighs, slinging his bag to the floor. "I'll just, take the floor." He says, moving into the room. You furrow your brow.

"Lucien, do you think I've never had a sleepover before? We can share." You say. You rifle through your pack for extra clothes, and with a wave of his hand, the candles and fireplace are alight with warmth.

"Well... only if you're okay with that." He says. You nod, realizing then that you have no sleepwear. Lucien seems to realize the same thing as his hands come up empty.

"You can shower first, if you were wanting to." You offer kindly. The firelight is painting his features beautifully, and you force yourself to look away. But Gods, was it hard.

"Thanks!" With that, he was heading for the bathroom. You sighed, flopping down on the bed. You hadn't expected this level of comfort from a motel bed, but the soft silky blankets, the plush pillows...

You sighed a breath of contentment, fingers toying with the gold key laced around your neck.

You stripped down to your undergarments, as your clothes from the day were filthy. Folding them into a neat pile beside the bed, you slipped under the sheets, goosebumps erupting over your body as the blankets had not yet warmed.

Lucien finally came out of the bathroom, his eyes raking over your bare shoulders not concealed by the covers. He choked down a cough, and you kept your eyes closed as he slid into the bed next to you.

His bare arm brushed yours, and your eyes flew open. You readjusted to lay on your side, and so did he at the contact. However, now you were face to face.

"Are you... cold?" He asked. His sweet gaze held yours as his fingers timidly grazed your shoulder. Fresh goosebumps appeared, and you shivered.

"Yes." He frowned.

"Comere." His hand gripped your waist, fingers over your hip bone as he pulled you flush against him. You pretended not to notice the growing buldge pressing against you as his hand traced small patterns over your back.

"I can give you some of my body heat, if this is okay?" He asks, voice low and raspy. Maybe it was the way his lips were inches from yours, the small candelight illuminating his perfectly sculpted face...

Or maybe you had finally decided to be honest.

"It's more than okay." You said. Heat returned to your cheeks, and a small smile danced on his lips as his gaze flicked between your eyes and mouth.

He reached out, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers lingered, trailing down your neck to the small key still looped around it. He toyed with it for a moment, before his lust-filled amber eyes met yours once more.

"I can give you more, if that would be okay too." He whispered. You shook again, this time the excited, anxious, energy rolling from you.

"It's more than okay."

Eris - "Who Did This To You?"

Reading was one of Eris' favorite pass times.

In fact, it was one thing he had in common with you.

The only thing, he swore.

One of many things, actually.

In fact, Eris was doing just that when he heard a commotion outside. Usually, it was his father. He'd learned not to get involved, but this time...

This was different.

His heartstrings tugged as he strained his ears, trying to listen beyond his windows for any indication of what was happening.

"Please... please..."

He snapped his novel shut, flying to his feet and racing outside. He wasn't sure what had come over him -- but he knew. He could feel it. You were here, and you needed him.

He'd thought over and over the last few years how you'd cry. How he would and could make you do it. Thought about killing you himself, once. Using his fire on you in ways he'd done only once before. You were acting like a lap dog, sitting with the Inner Circle at one of their meetings. Rhysand didn't let you talk, of course. You didn't even challenge him. You always let him walk all over you.

Maybe that's what pissed him off so badly.

You were packed full of good ideas, talents, advice; but you bowed to Rhysand, and that was that. You never spoke up for yourself.

You were worth so much more than that. You could offer so much more than you were allowed.

He tore through the hedge maze, snapping branches, feet thundering around every corner. His breathing was heavy, eyes searching in the night to find you.

"Please, Eris... someone..."

He followed your pained whimpering until he found you in the middle of the maze. You were slumped against the large water fountain, breathing unevenly as blood stained your neck, dried flakes throughout your usually vibrant tendrils. Your hands braced over your abdomen, tears creating tracks down your dirtied face.

"Oh my Gods..." He rushed to you, and you looked at him in desperation. His heart broke in two, seeing you crumpled and hurt in front of him.

His sadness turned very quickly, to anger. He felt... violent.

He ran his hands over your face, seeing blood pouring from your lip, and he reached up to move some hair from your forehead -- a huge gash the cause for the ever growing pool you sat in. Well, one of the causes. He was fuming, hands trembling as he tried to stay gentle with you, but absolute rage filled his every vein at how this could have happened to you.

Who could've let this happen to you.

"Eris, I..." you coughed, more crimson drops landing on the stone pathway below. "I... I didn't mean to... this is the first place I thought of..." another loud sob wretched from you, and Eris cupped your cheek. His whiskey eyes were dulled to a deep bourbon, his jaw clenched.

"Come with me."

He scooped you up, carrying you as carefully as he could back to his wing of the Forest House. You let out small yelps, the searing pain in your stomach too much to handle.

"Please, stay with me Y/N," he pleaded, looking down at you sorrowfully. He felt as though he was carrying a small, injured deer -- that is what you were. A gentle, wise, doe. His gentle doe.

He finally made it inside, sitting you on the sofa in front of the fireplace as he ran to the washroom and returned quickly. He presented a small wet cloth, taking your chin in his fingers and beginning to wipe away the red stains over your delicate skin. He tried so hard to stay gentle with you, trying to replicate the softness you'd always offerred others.

But, that's one thing you didn't have in common. He wasn't soft, or sweet like you. He tried to steady his breathing, gazing into your round, watery eyes instead. It only caused him more pain, seeing you like that. His head dropped, and he raked a hand through his hair.

"Put this in here," he grabbed a clean cloth, folding it and raising it to your mouth. You opened, usually defiant towards your enemy, but, really... you'd do anything he asked. He placed it between your teeth, and his hands covered your bloody ones, still clutching your stomach.

"Y/N... you have to move your hands." He says. Your eyes screw shut as you groan, removing your hands shakily. He breathes a sharp gasp, shaking his head.

"Hold onto me." He says. You look to him in confusion, and he places your stained fingers on his shoulders. One of his hands lingers on your for a moment, and he pressed the inside of your wrist to his lips. He looks back to you, eyes already asking for forgiveness.

"I'll be honest, I've thought about hurting you before as you've hurt me," he says, voice deep with ... something. Something you couldn't place. You could barely focus as your mind started to fog, vision clouding with black spots. "...but never like this."

He sighs one last time, a hand coming into view, fingers ablaze with fire. You sit up, or try to anyway -- a sob racks your chest, muffled by the cloth, and Eris holds you down, hand splayed over your sternum.

"Hold onto me." He says again. His hand meets your bubbling would, fire searing the skin as a scream tears through your already dry, cracked throat, only quieted by the cloth you’re biting down on. Your eyes blow wide, and you squirm under his hold. He looks at you with regret, pulling back for a moment only to press heat onto your would again.

Your hands rip and claw at the collar of his shirt, red already smeared over most of it. He huffs an apologetic sigh, continuing to carterize your open would.

Over. Over. Over again.

You lean back, knowing the familiar weightless feeling. You were going to black out. His once-white collar slips from your fingers, and your eyes meet his one last time before you slink into darkness.

When you come to, you're wrapped cozily in silken sheets, a pair of fleece pants covering your legs. Soft sunlight streams in through... a window. You blink, widening your eyes and looking around. The mahogony sheets were an unusual replacement to your lilac ones, and the four poster wooden bed was a change as well. Your eyes caught on a bookshelf, one with many titles like yours, at least. One book sat on the window seat, basked in sunlight. It was a title you'd already read.

You were in Eris' room.

You lean to sit up, but cry out in pain and lay back down, head flopping against the plush pillows under your head. Your hands instinctively reach toward your stomach, tugging at the hem of the tank top you bore. A bandage was wrapped around your midsection, concealing any injury. Your mind went to last night, what you'd endured, winnowing to the Autumn Court, the burning...

In moments, Eris is passing through the doorway, concern threading his brows together as he looks you up and down.

"Is everything alright?" He steps to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. He pulls the covers up, tucking them around you in comfort. You shake your head, silver lining your eyes as they meet his.

"I... they took me last night." You manage to get out. Eris readjusts to face you, a hand stroking through your hair. He bites on his lower lip, eyes searching yours.

"Who. Who took you Y/N." He says. It sounds like more of a demand than a question.

You shake your head, a tear slipping free as you remember being kidnapped from your bed, and tossed onto the mountainside. The feeling of snow under your knees, rocks in your palms only the beginning of the pain you'd endure before somehow winnowing away.

"It was... they wanted me to partake in the..." you stifle another cry. Eris brushes his thumb against your cheek.

"The fucking Blood Rite." He bites out. Anger radiates off of him, the small fire in the fireplace near the window growing with each passing second.

Again, he asked, eyes boring into yours. "Y/N, who did this to you?"

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

#a court of silver flames #acofas #acotar #acotar smut #a court of thorns and roses #acosf #lucien acotar #lucien vanserra #a court of frost and starlight #lucien x reader #eris vandaddy #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x reader #acotar series

[theoraclej]

well, that was bitterly disappointing to the depths of my soul.

yes, I'm talking about Tech.

he deserved better. the BATCH deserved better. OMEGA deserved better.

I don't like the way they basically just erased any and all grief for Tech except for a couple of fucking off-hand mentions that barely whetted the appetite for more of the only character I really identified with

because I'm the info dumping autistic guy in my irl groups

and to see him shuffled off in the manner they used was a fucking insult

and to be teased about it by the show creators

or worse, harassed by the bad lot of Star Wars fans

and to kill off their autistic guy who DEFINITELY had chemistry and the first hints of flirty bonding with a Black woman is a bad look, v bad look

imo they botched the whole finale, not just the Tech thing because like look:

I guess this zillo beast is just gonna live on that planet now, instead of getting involved in the story they had it fuck off to the jungle - what

CX-2? who was he? too bad we'll never know because he was dropped before he was identified

it was shot so dark, everything was hard to see, and mind you my television set is especially tuned for it to NOT be dark because I hate that shit, I am going to be forced to watch it again despite not wanting to so I can listen to the audio descriptions and better understand the fights

they totally dropped Omega's force sensitivity stuff, like I wanted to know more about that, and about the other kids, will they even be safe? cause we know the empire keeps stealing force sensitive kids

speaking of those kids, what even was the point? the research was destroyed yet we know project necromancer is eventually successful or maybe they're retconning that too, who knows, all the rules are off the table and nothing matters

writing was inconsistent for an episode meant to be important

Crosshair did not deserve to have his hand cut off. I know prosthetics are "easier" and "more accessible" in this universe but also I don't give a fuck, just insult to injury and more, this man has suffered enough from the moment they jacked his chip up to 11

back to Tech: they spent so much time being cute little shits about him that his return seemed inevitable, as I watched the season I kept counting down time left for him to show up, and I had hopes all the way through until the first fade to black, only to be bitterly reminded of his death with the goggles in Omega's ship

--

two highlights I did enjoy - Omega and Hunter at the end, making me wonder if there will be a show about Omega set during the rebellion or if she'll show up in The Mandalorian or Ahsoka

Nala Se killing the shit out of rampart as she herself died, thank you Nala Se

but overall UGH, I will be tender from this one for awhile, I almost want to cancel Disney+ until I feel able to watch Star Wars stuff again

might write some fix-it fic, I'm too hurt right now tho

I'm commiserating with the rest of you who seem to have much the same reaction to this disaster of a finale

so yeah, we all deserved better, fictional folks and real folks and zillo beasts alike

#the bad batch #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb tech #bad batch spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #tech #tech the bad batch #tech lives as far as I'm concerned #whatever we saw there wasn't it y'all #tbb omega #omega #they have lost my trust and my faith #I don't think I've ever been so disgustedly disappointed #ugh

[sgiandubh]

On leadership

This is a personal comment on @luhafraser's last post, where she wrote, in plain English:

'But I can't help but notice that since I joined this fandom, what we have in all the groups in this fandom are "leaders", they come and go, new ones appear, or reinvent themselves. There are people that stand out and lead others to follow their ideas and statements. It is these people that receive information, have sources, receive pics, and are fed by "anonymous" (Sorry, but a lot of things that have already appeared could only have come from someone "inside"). I know we are all adults, but there are those who know how to influence or who are led to be influencers, there are those who understand that and there are those who don't.'

Dear @luhafraser,

You wrote a couple of things with great confidence, as you usually do, and I feel I have to say something,

I have invited you already to name names, not allude to persons in your posts, as you so transparently seem to be doing right now. So yes, I felt looked upon and judged. By you (and not only you). Since Day 1. You thought I was never going to respond, well - you were wrong. The day has come and the day is now.

Dear @luhafraser, while I do immensely appreciate your real qualities (intelligence, humor, sleuthing, etc.), I am less a fan of this kind of little games, both in public and behind the scenes. My sudden apparition seems to have bothered you, with Anons asking you (June 20, 2023) if I was really a new person joining in and you denying it without taking the time to talk to me:

This is simply not done, my dear. I have openly and transparently engaged with people since Day 1 and never lied about my own circumstances. Your answer started a flurry of speculation that kept people interested all summer long and forced me to dox myself. So kindly prove me and all the others I am not a newbie (something completely impossible to do), do it in public and own the things you post in here.

I am not a leader of anything, @luhafraser , and I have no wish to be regarded as such. Ever. I have learned, in 20 years of my high-level public service career, that being the boss corrupts and exposes. But yes, I did want to be a disruptively positive voice in what I felt to be an intimidated community. I wanted to bring more clarity and all those research skills to all of you. I wanted honesty. And I, above anything else, wanted to help. And I am sorry that people agreeing or liking what I post seems to bother you. It is not something I can help you with. It is what it is. There is a place for all our voices to be heard in here. Every single one of them.

I have no inside information on SC and never did. I have not betrayed anything that was shared with me in DMs and only posted things when adamantly asked to do so, after careful vetting and only from people I knew. However I am a hell of a bloodhound when I am set to find something and I am rather good at what I do, also in real life. I also know when to stop and will never share things that would be legally questionable. It would expose us and it is a risk simply not worth taking.

I am not here for clicks and likes. My block list is three or four times bigger than my dash. I do not care for fame, but I do care for a couple of trusted people that became real friends. It is for them and for them only that I am not giving you satisfaction and quit.

I keep my promises. I will not go anywhere. If you do not like what I write, please unfollow and block immediately - this goes for anyone that feels bothered about me being here, in any way. I have no wish to start a war with any of you - that would make Mordor glee with joy for months. But please do me and yourself a favor: if in doubt, go now. I cannot stand duplicity, never could.

I hope that sets the record straight. Believe it or not, I have no hostility towards you. Not a single ounce.

I am not expecting an answer.

[Later edit;] I am glad I doxed myself. Very glad. But that is another story.

#fandom #shitshow

[hainfulcupid]

Obsessed with this motherfucker so im gonna drop a few random headcanons about him

ALL ARE SFW AND JUST SILLY STUFF ☝️ im not used to sharing my headcanons publicly like this hyuck hyuck

there’s very little to go off of from this media since all we really have is a pilot with bare , and i MEAN BARE lore to go off of so a lot of this is really me filling in blanks becus im Insane .

> Nordic bunny’s planet has a robotic look to it, i think that he built it himself out of complete boredom along with its inhabitants (that he probably destroys too, out of boredom….)

> I like to think that his guitar strings function like cat whiskers, they aid him in vision and processing the world around him. They’ve definitely busted a few times during battle, causing him to be disoriented for a bit.

> Hates things that are vaguely shaped like snakes (do NOT BRING A CUCUMBER NEAR THIS MAN)

> purrs….meows…does all those silly cat sounds but they’ve got an electric guitar sound effect

> has retractable claws, they do wonders for a man needs a quick escape route !!!!

> related to the thing above, oh he so absolutely adores scratching things up . has the biggest scratching post ever .

> He’s lonely, not like he intends to be but his personality is offputting to many, one of those people who you have a hard time reading into the things they say because every word that comes out of his mouth always sounds insulting. naturally judgmental, thinks he has a keen eye for fashion despite wearing only undies.

> what is his deal with the undies anyways ? i think he has sensory issues so he wears very minimal clothing thinking he’s serving absolute cunt but no ones ever told him how dorky he looked, and if any of his minions did well…..lets just say They’re no longer with us.

> definitely has a weird way of giving gifts…you know how cats bring you things they’ve hunted? well he’s no different, he wants THAT praise he wants you to tell him how competent he is.

> his tail is an indicator of his mood, follows the same rules of a cat .

LOOK AT HIM. TELL ME THIS ISNT TRUE.

> claims he can’t fucking stand emotional music, but listens to sad 80s rock . but no one will see that, they’ll see him as the dude who’s constantly blasting oldies metal classics .

> I AM A NORDIC BUNNY FANG HAVER TRUTHER . I JUST KNOW HED HAVE A TONGUE PIERCING TOO .

> he’s so reluctant to touch, he never knows if he fully enjoys it or not, you’ll be petting down his back and feel his back quiver almost like it’s trying to avoid your touch but he’s also - purring…he’s a confusing little guy…

> If he ever does manage to form something vaguely friendship like, he’d suck ass at managing the connection, oh you invite him to a party ? he sends you an image of himself stuck in the toilet with a text underneath saying “SOZZ . CANT GO. TOILET TROUBLEZ”

> that being said , not having a lot of experiences with relationships, he’d have an avoidant attachment style, he’d also. subconsciously be as unlikable as possible, he has no clue what defines being cool and likable he’s a little clung onto “be as cool and mysterious as possible”

> says “mrr?” instead of “hm?”

> Oh. in my mind he uses he/she pronouns . finds comfort in expressing femininity .

> I can’t see this guy having a preference for dating… he will take anyone who can break through the massive thick wall he puts up.

THATS ALL FOR NOW UHHH UHHHH

#nordicbunny #nordic bunny #shredforce #shred force #headcanons #i am cringe and i am free #GUH #beetlereetles