#i am naive in my own way for believing people want to be kind

[ame-perduexx]

Astrology Observations🦋

*as always* take what you want, leave what you want

*based only on my personal experiences with people with these placements*

🧚🏻cancer venus: if you've ever felt love from a cancer venus then i hope you know how special it can be. does it feel like love-bombing at times? sure. But i find it beautiful how unabashedly they throw themselves into someone they like. can it be suffocating to someone who isn't fully ready to commit? sure. but its impossible not to root for them.

🧚🏻taurus venus: wonderful, incredible, sensational style sense. thrift shop royalty. impeccable taste. can look good in anything - simply because it looks like a carefully curated outfit when in reality it took them probably 5 mins to throw together.

🧚🏻gemini venus: attracted to people who show them endless fascination. enjoys playing questions games to get to know people. knowing someones favorite color or season may seem pointless but they genuinely find a person's answers interesting.

🧚🏻as a fixed sign .... i have found i clash the most with cardinal signs. they infuriate me to no end. I enjoy the dynamic nature of mutable signs more.

🧚🏻Leo sun/moon: listen....even when you meet one and they tell you: "i'm like the most un-leo, leo ever! I hate being the center of attention!" they are LYING. either to you or themselves or both. i understand why taurus get the bad rep for being stubborn but leo's are stubborn in the way they believe they fully are the best person in the room at all times....which in a way i am almost envious of them? they have a kind of self-love that is unflinching.

🧚🏻virgo suns: make extremely well bosses. are very diplomatic and fair in how each worker is treated and never takes anything personal.

🧚🏻Sagittarius suns: for some reason.... the ones i have met and been around (ones who all identify as women) present themselves as extremely proper and pious in social settings. they love to be seen as the most put together one - especially in work-place. quiet in work environment ... but will talk your ear to death if you're sitting next to them at a dinner party

🧚🏻*trigger warning for SA* 🧚🏻scorpio placements. particularly sun,moon and mars. experience deep sexual trauma. over and over and over again in their life. started at an early age. continues to be taken advantage of throughout their lives. easy for them to associate self-worth with being sexually desired in a negative way. doesn't trust a person if they seem innocent at first, it always turns into some form of a violation.

🧚🏻gemini placements: listen to more lofi style music or instrumental. music without lyrics.

🧚🏻gemini moons: i know i've said this before in a post, and its a common understanding with gemini placements, but they genuinely are extremely talented with foreign languages. learn them quickly. hear them spoken for a while and can pick it up naturally.

🧚🏻moon opposite saturn: i'm so sorry. i know how hard it is. the depression, the anxiety, the constant self-doubt. you are truly your own worst enemy. i'm sending every person with this placement all my love.

🧚🏻libra sun & moon: have i ever truly had a deep convo with these placements? no. do i still love their company? yes. but it tends to feel surface level with them. they are not talented in expressing their thoughts in a spoken or written way without it sounding....childish. maybe its just me .... either way they would still be the first person I invite to my party. they make me laugh. maybe it's their childish naive view of the world i love. maybe I wish i could see it that way.

#taurus #aquarius #aries #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #astrology #gemini #venus #sun signs #cancer #leo #virgo #libra #Scorpio #Sagittarius #capricorn #Pisces #moon signs #random zodiac observations #zodiac

[cinememed]

₍ 🎞 ₎   the  great   (2020 – 2023)  rp  starters  ! featuring violence, explicit language & mature themes . some lines have been slightly adjusted for rp purposes .

if the crown fits ... take it.

i promised myself a great love. that didn’t work out. 

you fired something in me, and when i look at you now, i must have you again. 

i have carried a romantic idea of people all my life.

it was an act of love, not an act of betrayal.

i saw a great love as a kind of perfect love. maybe it's not.

you're delusional about people, about the world.

that is your great gift. but it's a curse as well.

we cannot change without cost, even if it is our own.

you are always seeking for me to look at reality. well, i am, and it's horrifying. 

it is a flaw for a leader to want love so much.

you don't believe in me. i've spent my life trying to get you to.. and you just don't.

the worst thing in life is to come up against your own limitations and stumble.

i can't stop loving you when you talk, it rushes me.

no morality, no philosophy, just win.

i think you have a large appetite that is not constrained by morality.

you are complicating me.

a great love, like a great country or a great leader even ... is a flawed one.

not as fun as me. because i am known for being fun.

it's .. close to enough.

you do this, and you can't come back. i mean it.

there are many versions of you, and you know i'm the only one who sees them all.

i never thought being doomed would feel so pleasant.

i am fucked. i have decided to embrace it.

sometimes you just take the next step and the path appears. 

i look at you ... and my heart breaks. for your pain. for your sorrows.

i will not live a powerless life.

i do not wish to avoid bloodshed. what part of that plan do you not understand?

sometimes i'm so clever, i have to take a breath not to become dizzy.

i think i was angry because no one has ever not liked me.

there is no other way. i am a prisoner here.

you think me more naive than i am.

we are always not quite as good as we wish.

i don't want to kill you. you're not a bad person.

i could kill you. you are a bad person.

you're so sweet sometimes, i could just kiss you on the nose.

people underestimate the joy in suffering.

it wasn't destiny that did it. i did it.

i'm not scared, and i'm not holding your hand.

you're lying, which is both out of character and really annoying.

i am as good as dead here. that's why i have nothing to lose.

i will not be at your, or anyone's whim.

i wondered what had happened to you! well, wondered might be too strong.

#rp prompt #rp meme #rp memes #rp starters #rp inbox meme #ask memes #rp ask prompt #not technically cinema but.

[jamespotterismydaddy]

Lord Husband (Chapter 10)

cregan stark x reader

A/N: I keep forgetting I exist. Sorry this is short oopsies

WORD COUNT: 982 words

series masterlist

You hardly see him for weeks. Any new wife would expect her husband to impress his needs upon her frequently after the wedding night in hopes of creating an heir but you almost knew he wouldn’t. There’s something so strange about Cregan Stark; he’s empathetic. It’s not a trait you knew any man could hold. In reality, you should be pleased that your husband doesn’t wish to rape you but you’re more frustrated. He shall want for a son eventually, won’t he? This is only delaying the inevitable and you are a ‘get it over with’ kind of woman.

You arrive at his chambers with little more than a knock on the door. “Do you not wish for an heir, Lord Stark?”

“Good morning.” He murmurs, looking up from the papers on his desk.

“An heir? Is it your wish or not?” You say, disregarding his greeting.

He sighs, already stressed from reading over land disputes and not wishing to be stressed over his petulant wife. “Of course I want for a son.”

“You haven’t visited my chambers in weeks.”

“I did not think you wanted me to.” He looks at you, confused and a bit sorrowful.

“There is only one way to make a child.”

Gods he thinks you look so like a child when you stand there with such false assurance. It makes him feel wretched.

“You weeped the last time I took you to bed. I have been trying to give you time so that you might… recover?” The words don’t feel right to him. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

“Lying with you caused me no feelings of importance.”

Cregan counts to ten in his head but only makes it to five. He then stands abruptly.

“You will watch your tone when you speak to me!” He says, fed up with your lack of decorum.

You gape at him like a fish. He went from so pitiful to angry so quickly.

“I have done all I can to make you comfortable, all I can to make you feel welcomed and at every turn, you insult me! You have spent your entire life as the spoilt daughter of the Queen and for that, I do not blame you but I can only be so lenient. You will no longer take liberties with how you speak to me. I am your husband and you will learn to treat me as such.” He breathes heavily after letting all his emotions go. “Even princesses don’t speak to their spouses in the way you speak to me.”

“I’m not your wife by choice. I didn’t want this.” You protest in justification of your own cruelty.

He scoffs. “And do you think I did?”

“You asked for my hand.”

“Her Grace offered me your hand.”

“You could’ve said no.”

“Is that truly what you think? Are you really so naive as to believe that? Everyone of our station marries for advantage. I am no different and neither are you.” Even when he shouted at you only moments ago, he never sounded as hateful as he does right now.

“And you’re happy with this standard?” You ask with level headed contemplation.

“Of course I’m not but it’s what is done.”

“It isn’t fair for you to fault me for wanting something more when you’re also unhappy with it… especially when you know it’s more difficult for women than men.” You desperately want him to understand you. You just want somebody to understand.

“We all make sacrifices for the people we love.” He says dutifully.

“I make the sacrifices while my brothers marry for love. How is that fair?”

“So you’re bitter? Prince Jacaerys will be king one day. That’s a much greater sacrifice than marrying for advantage.”

The tears prickle in your eyes. You should’ve known.

“At least he won’t be alone.”

You don’t want to argue anymore, or rather be scolded like a dumb child so you leave, striding back to your room.

You stare into the mirror when you arrive. Would your mother be disappointed by how disagreeable you are, how disobedient? Daemon wouldn’t. But you aren’t Daemon Targaryen. You’re just a girl, a girl that might ruin an alliance if you can’t make nice with your husband. Should you care? Your stepfather wouldn’t. Dragon riders don’t obey societal norms… but you do care… ever so slightly.

~~~

A voice at the door. Does he want to be let in only so he can say a hundred words that mean so little?

“Enter.”

Your husband, tall and strong walks into the room, reminding you of someone you used to know. He’s kind and brave like him.

“I should not have shouted at you. I just feel as though I’m not heard when I’m quiet but that is no justification.” He stares at the back of your head. You don’t turn to face him, looking out the window instead of at the mirror. This is your home now. He will become your home - he could become your home.

“If I walked out the door right now and never came back, would you try and stop me?” You aren’t angry about his shouting; you’re used to fire.

“No.”

“It would destroy the alliance. You could side with the Hightowers or simply just watch as they take my mother’s throne.”

“You could walk out that door, get on your dragon and never come back and I would keep my oath to the Queen.”

Gods he really is decent.

“Where would you go?” He asks like you haven’t just said you might run out on your marriage.

“Old Valyria.”

“You would die.”

“I would.”

“I’m not sorry for making things difficult for you but I acknowledge that I have.”

He smiles a bit woefully. “I wouldn’t expect anything less, princess.”

“Any woman in Westeros would consider herself lucky to be your wife.”

“Hmm… almost any it seems.”

Comment to be added to taglist

#lord husband #cregan stark fic #cregan fic #cregan stark x reader #cregan #cregan stark #hotd

[idkwhatimdoingbutslay]

… I can’t imagine that we actually watched the same show. Like I REALLY AISNSOSNWKMEJDND

hold on I’m gonna need to calm down.

Let me just make a list of why I disagree and at least organize my anger. Long post incoming.

Vander was friends and had a deal with Grayson. The sheriff. Idk what else to even add to that

Caitlyn is more than a cop and Arcane isn’t copaganda. Genuinely don’t know what kind of progress some of these people are looking for. Real allies are a necessity for real progress.

SILCO IS A CLASS TRAITOR. HE FUNNELLED DRUGS INTO THE UNDERCITY AND PUT POOR KIDS IN FACTORIES FOR THAT DRUG FOR PROFIT!!! HE PAID THE ENFORCERS TO LET HIM DO IT WITHOUT CONSEQUENCE

Vi is not as much as an activist as you would like to believe

WHY IS EKKO NEVER EVER BROUGHT UP IN THESE CONVERSATIONS????

Silco was not good for the Undercity

Silco was not a great guy. Ekko had to build an entire separate hidden community for the people he hurt and stepped on for his own benefit

Caitlyn is ignorant and naive. That’s ok. That’s what character development is for.

Loving imperfect characters like Silco and Jinx then hating characters like Vi and Caitlyn is peak media illiteracy to me

FOR THE LAST TIME: VI DIDNT ABANDON POWDER!!!!! Silco literally wanted Vi DEAD for trying to stop him from killing Vander??? How could you possibly say silco was there for jinx when Vi refused to be???? SHE WAS IN PRISON BECAUSE OF HIM???

Silco’s manipulation is working wonders on y’all

Embracing all the outrage without at all looking out for the people harmed by bigotry is not activism

SILCO IS A CLASS TRAITOR x929282929394

Caitlyn was the first person in years to show Vi kindness and care. She listened and stuck by her and took care of her after Vi was locked up for years and beat up by cops (i wonder what led her to be thrown in there?). Cait being a cop stopped being a point of contention once Vi recognized her naivety and genuineness.

NUANCE NUANCE NUANCE. ITS NEVER EVER BLACK AND WHITE

The only way I can see Vi touching ‘class traitor’ in season one was the shimmer raid. Guess who the hell put those kids in there in the first place.

Just hanging out with Caitlyn isn’t being a class traitor if Vander’s allowed to be friends with Grayson.

Critical thinking is very necessary for watching shows like Arcane

What the hell did Silco really do for the Undercity???? What changed over the 7(ish) years he was basically in power of the place? All I’ve heard was he made the air cleaner, which would be great except for, you know, shimmer and the child factory workers

Jinx is unwell and feeding into it like this in a fully serious manor would not help Arcane as a show at all

What do you want Arcane’s message as a full show to be? ‘Screw cops’? That’s a little boring and unproductive isn’t it?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT EKKO AND HIS IMPACT PLEASE???? x9382728283

Caitlyn is trying to make Piltover and Zaun a better place. Is that not allowed? Am I missing something?

Caitlyn and Vi’s arcs have only just started. Season one is basically fully set up except for characters like silco and Jinx. This is far from the end.

Genuinely think Vander would appreciate Vi for being friends (using this term loosely because they are in love) with Caitlyn considering he was the one who was opposed to war and Vi wasn’t.

Silco should NOT be your idea of Undercity independence and respect. He oppressed the Undercity the same way the Council and the Enforcers did. He helped no one but himself, his team (barely) and Jinx.

You’re allowed to like and dislike any character you want but pretending like Silco is better for the Undercity than others is just so ridiculous to me. Everyone is of course completely allowed to like Silco, but we can’t pretend like he’s this stand up guy. If you have to pretend like he was, maybe you don’t like him as much as you think.

“Because Cait’s pretty” is also incredibly incorrect. Go check point #14.

Vi never stopped loving and caring for Powder. Powder’s mental health issues were amplified and utilized by Silco because he couldn’t even heal himself.

If all of your opinions of Caitlyn and Vi start and end with “cops suck” and “class traitor” then you genuinely don’t respect Arcane as a show enough to show you nuance.

The misinterpretation of characters is just so … it’s like you go out of your way to love and/or hate characters no matter how much they show you who you are.

Your closed mindedness is clouding your judgement and making you out to seem like you don’t actually want the Undercity’s triumph, you want Silco and Jinx’s, even if it means ruining the Undercity. And that would be fine because father/daughter evil duo but trying to say you’re all for this duo because you want what’s better for the Undercity when they continue to hurt it is simply not correct and very harmful (to fictional characters in a fictional universe 😭)

Only being able to understand how Silco and Jinx were oppressed and therefore should be able to not just destroy Piltover but also Zaun is not the eat you think it is

Why is Viktor never called a class traitor? I think he's great (I also think Silco and Jinx are wonderfully written) but we hardly saw him in the Undercity/ interact with people from the Undercity plus he killed someone (Sky) from there (accidentally)

EDIT TO ADD ANOTHER POINT: Caitlyn has shown little to NO malicious intent and has no real negative impacts other than Jinx’s attachment issues and insecurities being amplified by her mere existence. Again, this is her story and development. Throughout the season she is exposed to reality and recognizes her and her peers/ families wrongs. I have no idea what you want from this character. Should Piltover just be gotten rid of in the story? Then what? Should Caitlyn have just never gotten involved and continued to embrace her privilege? Should she have left Vi in prison and stay ignorant?

#arcane #arcane league of legends #arcane netflix #point number 32 sums it all up I think #i blocked most of the people who added and made the post so they wont see this lol #i might be overreacting or misinterpreting #maybe i didnt watch the show right #or maybe i did and some of these people are bad at this #some points are most definitely redundant #and im open to people disagreeing.... respectively lol maybe dont wish death on a character and ill hear you out #again i wouldnt dislike silco as much if he wasnt put on a pedestal by people who swear theyre all for the undercity #i wrote this kind of in anger so like sorry about that lol #anti silco #<- for tagging purposes if this is too silco critical for the people who like him #to slay or not to slay #caitvi #this is the second repost because the first two didn’t show up in the tags cuz I messed with my settings 😭😭😭

[queersouthasian]

Since Pit Babe's end is knocking at the door, I am back in my CharlieBabe feels. I think no relationship will get to me the way they did. I will always be in awe about how human they are and how much humans can love if they want to.

I will never get over how pain shaped Charlie and Babe so differently. Pain shaped Charlie's kindness, his way of loving and caring, his want to give. He has grown up to be the exact person he wished he had growing up. A kind soul who cares so much, who loves so much. But Charlie isn't naive or stupid. Even though he is a natural caretaker he doesn't let people take advantage of him. He is careful and smart while being a giver. And there is Babe, who just wanted to be loved and wanted to love, but was wounded in the attempt to do so that it ruined the definition of love for him. He started believing that love can only bring him pain. This pain shaped his defense. Even though he had found a family of his own, he didn't let anyone venture into those parts of him which hurt the most. He was a desirable sexy alpha racer for everyone, the "Pit Babe", until he became someone's "Phi Babe",

Charlie's arrival was like a gentle knock, where he lets him in thinking he could kick him away anytime, until he could no longer do so, till he feared the idea of the latter's absence alone. It's the way Charlie buries his pain under his smile whereas Babe does it under his cockyness, smugness, so called ego. Charlie picked up babe's broken pieces, some being so sharp it cut through him, but he kept picking those up. And he caressed them. Whereas babe took Charlie's and made them his. They both shared each other's pain. Charlie is loud in love and silent in pain just like babe is the opposite.

But what makes them and their love so human is their flaws. It's the way babe wants to fight along side Charlie but Charlie pushes him away so that he doesn't even get a single scratch on him. But can you blame him? Babe himself wants to fight together but at the face of danger, covers Charlie with his whole body, pushes him back so he doesn't get hurt, so no one can touch him. They can't find equality to save their fucking lives 'cause they are each other's priority, at the face of danger, they would both die and kill for the other.

Their love brings pain and grief as well. Charlie lies and lies 'cause when it comes to his beloved being safe and happy, he would do anything. Anything. Babe may hate him but atleast he will be safe and in peace but Charlie can't fathom that. Charlie fears babe hating him, misunderstanding him. That's why instead of being happy after the "death" that babe is safe, everything assured, he is grieving and is in guilt. He has caused his lover pain again unintentionally. Whereas for babe this grief hits different. He thinks he deserved it, 'cause he didn't let Charlie know how much he meant to him, how much he loved him when he could. He lost Charlie, he lost that one thing he had which he didn't even dare to wish for before, a love, a genuine lover. It was like loosing something extremely valuable for him. He was supposed to keep him safe. But he lost him. He blames himself for not loving his beloved in the same volume. Whenever they locked eyes before, babe had this "I can't believe I have you, What did I do to deserve you" whereas Charlie has this "you deserve every piece of me and more" look on their faces, in their stares. Babe would look like he has found the most beautiful angel whereas Charlie would look like babe has hung stars in the sky. In the last ep, when Charlie comes in to save, even though still physically weak, driven by rage that people hurt babe, his face changes from anger to concern and love and guilt, "I am here for you" whereas for babe his eyes immediately turn red glistening with tears, bewilderment mixed with hope. A hope of finally finding that lost thing, a "finally you are here"

This relationship will last beyond generations and lifetimes, in which every version of them, will search for the other. A love so human it feels like a hope. A hope to love again.

#lgbtq #bl drama #pit babe the series #charlie x babe #I remember a quote which said #“I have never loved myself but you #oh the way I love you goes beyond love itself #this is so them

[timemachineyeah]

I just don't think renting should exist, but have no idea how to get there. Like, buying up properties and being able to profit off them endlessly, driving up the prices so the people who need them are less and less able to afford them and more and more dependent on renting... shouldn't exist. You just shouldn't get to own a ton of extra property you have no use for. And I think this is a thing a lot people believe. I mean, there's a reason we say being a landlord isn't really a job. But while we all agree - how? Do we do that? How do we change it?

Like we couldn't do it in one fell swoop. Certainly not without, like, a militia. And I am the kind of person who likes to naively believe there has to be SOME minimally or non-violent way to transition to a different economy. Even if realistically I think it's unlikely to play out that way, I have to at least believe it could be possible.

But even if we wrote a law tomorrow and it miraculously passed - which would not happen - but even with a grand legal decree saying you cannot charge rent or own more than [amount] property and must surrender your excess, you better bet the landowners would be willing to employ violence to protect their investment in capital. They already do in the form of police and personal security - they wouldn't just surrender the land and buildings they lay claim to.

There's a logistics to orchestrating the transition that I've no idea how to approach, but given the popularity and age of idea, I have to assume someone has better plans for how we could sneak into position to implement it in a... smoother? way?

Like entirely philosophically I don't really "believe" in personal property, in that it is a socially constructed idea, but it's useful and I don't think it can be entirely discarded - certainly not in my lifetime.

But I want to kill rent. I want it to die.

#sorry for the random rant I really want to go to bed but I can't because the laundry is going and I'd sleep through changing it over #and when I get tired I start to hate the bourgeoisie #more than usual #in an impersonal systemic way - I am bad at hating groups of people I haven't met lmao #timemachine wuz here

[keysmashingfantasies]

Hi hi. I’m not sure if you do request like this and this isn’t detailed or anything so I get if you don’t want to but like could I request something smut chishiya? Maybe him and reader are friends and get into an argument about their feelings for each other and they end up having really romantic love making and confess to each other or something. Probably makes like zero sense sorry.

i do requests like this, yes! just bear with me because i am not the most skilled smut writer but i am absolutely open to writing it, ask away! and it makes perfect sense, don't worry! also, i assumed you wanted fem!bodied reader but since you didn't specify, i didn't. so hopefully i think everyone can read. this is so fucking long i'm sorry. was it good? i don't think so, no. is it the best i could do? absolutely. enjoy!

ok, content warning/this fic contains: sexy times, non descriptive penetrative sex as a way to keep this as inclusive as possible, no body descriptions for reader, unprotected sex (not good! don't do this!), chishiya being vulnerable (or, as the kids call it, a bit subby), a smidge of angst at the beginning, probably kind of shitty aftercare bc i don't know how and i'm going off of vibes. absolutely not proofread so most likely grammar mistakes.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT WITH THIS POST OR I'LL CALL YOUR MOM!!!

"What do you mean? I'm being careless by talking to people?", you exclaimed. Chishiya was being more and more unreasonable lately. You knew he thought you were gullible and naive, and you suspected that's why he decided to get closer to you; who'd suspect you, after all? You weren't all that wide eyed ingenue, you just believed that people could still be good in this world. Kuina shared the same belief, and he wasn't nagging on her like he did with you.

"Of course you can! But not so much to make yourself vulnerable to threats! What are you doing, cozying up to someone you don't even know during a game?", his tone raised the slightest bit, what was already a lot for Chishiya. He may have been acting unreasonably but he knew what he was saying had reason. Chishiya had feelings for you, and once he got to know you the desire to protect you only grew. He knew that you were selfless to the point of bordering stupidity, and would sacrifice yourself for someone. What made Chishiya's heart clench even more is that you'd sacrifice for him given the chance. Without even thinking. The flame of his anger was fanned at the thought that someone may have used your good will to trick you into dying in their place if he wasn't around.

"I wasn't cozying up! I was talking to a teammate! On a game of clubs! You know, one of those we depend on other people to live?", you said, exasperated. You took a calming breath and sighed. "You know what, think what you want of me. I'm tired, I don't want to fight", you started to pace around, something you often did to release anxious energy after a game.

"We're not fighting. We're having a conversation", Chishiya deadpanned, raising his eyebrows when you turned to look at him.

"A conversation of you laying it thick the implication that I'm some dumb thing with stars in my eyes? That I can let anyone trick me into sacrifice?", you said, and his eyes darted across the room, avoiding your eyes. Red-handed. "Chishiya, listen to me", you sat besides him, taking his hand in yours. "I may still be a bit too hopeful of people sometimes. Everyone copes in their own way, right?", you earned yourself a dry chuckle. "But I am hopeful because of what I've seen. Yeah, there's death and sadness and betrayal but there's good things. Friendship and love. For every bad person there's a few good ones, I truly believe that. And don't worry about me. You and Kuina drilled in my brain to be street smart", you smiled. Now it was your turn to avoid his eyes. "The only person in this entire world that can trick me is you, Chishiya. I trust you wholeheartedly", you whispered, clenching his hand in yours tight but still refusing to turn your warm face towards his. He was your lifeline but made you mortified at the same time.

"I don't think you're dumb. I'm sorry if I came across that way. I wouldn't have made an ally out of you if I didn't trust your abilities. And... I wouldn't made a friend out of you if I thought you're stupid. I just didn't want to lose you, that's all", he said. "I trust you too. Wholeheartedly", he said, giving you one of his Monalisa smiles. Sutil enough he may not even be smiling at all.

"Not in the way I trust you. Not by far", you said, finally managing to gather yourself enough to look at him. You may die at any point, Chishiya was kind enough to remind you. So what if he didn't love you back? You had the right to say it and he had the right to know. Even if he scolded you for wearing your heart on your sleeve. Even if he betrayed you.

"Why do you say that?", he asked, frowning. Did you know believe him? After all this time, he thought he was opening up to you. That you saw something more inside of him, the optimism, the sliver of hope he kept hidden for emergencies and you.

"Because I love you. And I trust you. Blindly", you said after being in silence for a while, and the atmosphere of the room shifted. You could feel the hairs in your body standing in attention, the room felt colder, the air felt heavy and sticky when you breathed in and you thought that if you took a deep breath like you've been dying to, you'd choke. You could hear a pin drop. And Chishiya was still as a statue.

It happened in a blink of an eye. Chishiya was tense, his lips pressed against yours and shoulders almost up to his ears, like someone had pushed him into you and he was still trying to process it. You had your eyes wide open, looking around the room, hands up like someone was pointing a gun at you, not knowing where to place them. For a few seconds it was like this, until something clicked. Chishiya kissed you. Chishiya was kissing you. You parted for a second before looking into each other's eyes, bewildered like you had been possessed. And then you kissed him.

This was much more like an actual kiss. It was soft, slow, steady. You cupped his face between your hands and got up on your knees to get closer to him, his hands snaking their way up to your waist. Soon enough, you had to breathe, breaking apart just enough for your mouths to disconnect but staying close. Neither of you thought you could let each other go after what you knew it was about to transpire.

"Chishiya... I...", you were breathless, you brain had turned to mush and you couldn't speak, and Chishiya took the opportunity to kiss you yet again.

You could've been kissing for ages. The games might've been over, everyone dead, the land completely taken over by vegetation at this point. But you were still kissing Chishiya, slow and deep, melting and molding into his arms, straddling his lap. Not letting your hands leave him not for a second, as he did with you. Your hands were on his face, his on your waist. His hands moved up your back, yours into his hair. Your hands on his chest, his in yours.

The kisses started growing hot and sloppy. You needed each other bad. So when Chishiya pulled apart to catch his breath and you couldn't stay away from him, you started to kiss down his neck, hands pulling off his hoodie off like it was offending you, desperately mouthing at the parts of his collarbones and chest not covered by his shirt. And the sounds were driving you insane. The little sighs and moans made you want to beg him to fuck you already but you decided to contain yourself. You wanted him to feel appreciated. Loved.

"Ah... That's good", he whispered, and when you parted from his neck to see his head thrown back, his mouth slightly opened, eyes half lidded like he was intoxicated, you couldn't help but to slip your tongue into his mouth yet again, shifting your hips against his slightly, making you both moan in each other's mouths. "Can I undress you?", he asked between pecks on your lips, and you nodded so hard you made yourself dizzy. "No, no. I need to hear you say it", he said, stopping to look at you looking at him. How you were still bashful at a situation like this he couldn't figure out for the life of him, but he gave you a low chuckle when you hid your face in his neck, only to shiver after feeling your teeth pressed against his pulse point. If the room wasn't so quiet he wouldn't be able to hear the small "Please, Chishiya, undress me" that followed.

His hands were fast as they were precise and in no time you were fully naked in his lap, kissing him like your life depended on it. Your hands made your way down his chest, getting to the hem and making their way up again, now under the fabric, lifting it up and off of his torso, breaking the kiss just long enough to pull it over his head.

You proceeded to kiss every newly discovered inch of his warm skin. From his fingertips, up his arms, his shoulders, nipping and sucking and licking down his chest, over his sensitive nipples, down his stomach and the soft trail of hair that dissapeared under the waistband of his pants.

"Y/N...", he sighed, hand coming up under your chin to pull you off of obsessively mouthing him over his pants. "Y/N...", he sighed yet again when you came up, making eye contact with him and giving him a peck on the lips.

"Can I finish undressing you, Chishiya? Please?", you were desperate, and Chishiya hissed at the thought of what was to come. How could he hold back when you were so sweet, so beautiful, so eager, looking at him like he painted the sky midnight blue and hung the moon and stars up there?

"Yes. Yes, please", he breathed. You touched your forehead to his, fiddling with the ties of his loose pants. Meanwhile, he pressed two of his fingers to your lips, slowly but surely shoving them inside your warm and wet mouth. As you sucked them, you started to pull his pants and underwear down his slim hips, and he lifted his hips to aid you.

Soon enough, you were both naked, you straddling his thighs. There was nothing in between you anymore. He took his fingers off of your mouth as you looked down to take him in, all the parts hidden that you'd been fantasizing about. His chest with a bit of hair, now covered in red splotches from your sucking, his stomach and happy trail covered in love bites, his pale hairy legs, his cock that now slapped against his stomach, not too long but just enough to make your mouth water, with a leaking pink tip, girthy and veiny, nestled in his pubes, his balls hanging low, filled with cum.

"Chishiya, you're so beautiful", you moaned in pure agony. His body, the way he was looking up at you so reverently; he looked like an angel. He wasted no time in using his fingers lubed by your spit to start prepping you, carefully but firmly shoving them inside of you, finger fucking you in efforts to find that sweet spot inside of you.

"You're beautiful too. Ah, that's it, take my fingers inside you", he moaned as you started to move your hips in tandem with his hand. You slowly started to play with his balls, earning yourself a low groan.

"Chishiya. Chishiya", you moaned, convulsing when he managed to graze what he was looking for. "I'm going to- ah! Kiss me, please", he placed his hand in the back of your neck and pulled you to him, his tongue messily meeting yours while you mewled into his mouth and you shivered from your orgasm.

You only parted after you finished riding out your orgasm, after your lungs were burning, and you felt weak and feverish. You looked into his eyes for a little while and Chishiya opened his mouth to speak, only to come up with nothing but shallow gasps and a smile. His heart jumped when you smiled back.

"Chishiya, make love to me, please", he'd think you were in pain if it wasn't your smile. The way you were looking at him.

"Of course", he said, laying you down on the floor on your back, parting your knees, taking a moment to just look at you, making you feel shy. "You're so gorgeous. Are you ready for me?", he asked.

"Yes!", you moaned. You couldn't believe this was happening. Not in the Borderlands of all places.

Slowly, he started to put it inside of you, and the stretch of him was amazing. You blindly reached for one of his hands that was bracketing your head, him holding the back of it to his lips for a second before continuing.

"Almost there. Are you ok? Fuck. Does it hurt?", he said. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you into the floor but he wanted to be gentle with you. Wanted to see you fall apart slowly for him.

"Ah... You're amazing. It feels amazing", you sighed, dreamily; you never felt so full in your entire life, it was an all encompassing feeling, you couldn't do anything but to lay there and feel him inside you. Your eyes meeting his with another dazzling smile, and he almost came on the spot.

"Ah, ah!", he bottomed out inside of you and he couldn't believe how warm and wet you were. "So good...", he started to grind his hips into yours, not really pulling out. He couldn't pull away from you right now, not when you felt so good.

The both of you were in a frenzy, hips grinding into each other desperately, the both of you sweaty and moaning. One of you hands was tightly clasped in one of Chishiya's, the other with their nails deep into the skin of his shoulder, the other hand of Chishiya was gripping your tigh, his arm wrapped around it. Your mouth was open in ecstacy, moaning like an animal in heat. Chishiya didn't know where to place his mouth. Dragging across yours, on your neck, your shoulders, your collarbones, down your chest.

"Chishiya, Chishiya, Chishiya", you wanted to let him know you were about to cum, but your mind was numb and the only thing you could say was his name over and over.

"Are you close?", he breathed out and you nodded feverishly. "Me too. Will you cum with me?", he moaned and it was the most beautiful sound you heard in your life. You didn't stand a chance, clenching around him with a desperate cry of his name while he pressed his hips to yours, pumping you full of his cum.

It felt like you both were locked together, standing still against each other like a statue for ages. You didn't know how long until your soul returned to your body but when it did, you knew yours and his were intertwined. "Hi", you breathed, and he smiled. Not a quirk of his lips, a full fledged smile, teeth and all. "I should clean you up", he said, using his shirt to clean the cum seeping out of you, being mindful of how sensitive you were. "Hurts?", he asked. "No, I'm fine", you said. After dressing you and himself, discarding the shirt and zipping his hoodie with nothing underneath, he held you to his chest.

"I believe there's good in this world too", he said.

"Hm?", you asked, sleepy, your cheek pressed against his chest, with his arms around you.

"I believe there's good in the world too. Maybe less than you but I do. Believe that there's good out there. I'll go back with you, if we get lost I'll find you. And then I'll make love to you again, and hold you close, to remember that there's good in the real world too", he said. "I love you too", he said, squeezing you to him.

#chishiya #shuntaro chishiya x reader #chishiya x reader #chishiya x male reader #alice in borderland chishiya #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader

[onyxbird]

OK, the idea of a soulmate au where you can't look anyone but your soulmate directly in the eyes was not done with me yet.

Leverage version:

Sophie knows all the tricks for faking full eye contact. For a third-party observer, it's nigh-impossible to tell that she's not quite achieving direct eye contact short of using cameras with very good eye-tracking software. Trying to fool a mark into thinking she's their soulmate via “eye contact” is tougher, but on a mark who hasn't met their own soulmate (and thus has never experienced true full eye contact), Sophie still has a pretty good success rate. Every member of the team has been drafted as her fake soulmate on a con at least once. Or, at least, Sophie has tried. Parker failed to pick up on any of the hints Sophie was able to drop without blowing their cover, so Sophie had to switch tactics. Hardison tried valiantly to hold the near-eye-contact, and they pulled off the job, but he was struggling and his resulting nervous blather did not help the illusion at all. Eliot picked up her cues and pulled off the illusion flawlessly… and hated every second of it. The first time they faked prolonged eye contact, he ducked away to Nate's bathroom the second they got in the door, and Sophie (slightly insulted) wondered if he was going to throw up. He didn't, just practically boiled his skin off in the hottest shower he could stand. Nate is by far Sophie's most frequent “soulmate” on the job… None of the rest of the team are entirely sure whether the eye contact is fake or not, and neither Nate nor Sophie is telling.

Parker has never had any interest in making eye contact, and was genuinely unaware that this was a serious thing people actually believe in. (Sure, people talk about finding their “soulmate” through eye contact, but people also talk about summoning Bloody Mary through the bathroom mirror. That doesn't mean it's real.) The first time she looked directly into Hardison's eyes was both accidental and jarring. She averted her eyes and assumed they would never mention this uncomfortable situation again. She was not expecting Hardison to suddenly want to have an intense, excited conversation that was clearly loaded with some meaning she wasn't picking up on, and she definitely wasn't expecting him to do so while trying to eagerly stare into her eyeballs. When Eliot happened to walk in, she latched onto him like a spooked cat, demanding he do something about Hardison; there was something wrong with him, like he's possessed or something; make him stop!

Eliot has habitually avoided even the possibility of eye contact with anyone since he was in high school. (He certainly wasn't trying to lock eyes with people even before that, but, well, he and Aimee had tried once, back when they were young and naive and thought maybe they were meant to be. They weren't.) In his line of work… it was better not to know. There was just no way that would end well. He doesn't have anything against other people finding their soulmates, though. Really. So he's not quite sure why there's such a bite to his words when he snaps at Hardison to knock it off—that “soulmates” is no excuse for trying to look someone in the eye when they don't like it. But he's sure he can feel a headache forming as he's stuck between Parker's “'Soulmates'! Ha! …Oh, come on. You're kidding, right? That's not real” from one side and Hardison's horrified “Oh my god, I'm sorry! Parker, I am so, so sorry—I was just so excited, you know? I didn't realize—” start of what was clearly going to be a long and heartfelt apology on the other.

Hardison thinks soulmates are very romantic, and he's always hoped, you know? He tries not to talk too openly about it—dreaming of finding your soulmate was deemed “girly” and “wussy” by the popular boys at his high school, and he had more than enough targets on his back for bullying as a kid without drawing attention this one. He's always kind of thought he'd probably never find his, if he even had one. He did so much of his socializing with like-minded people online, and you can't make eye contact—not real eye contact—over a webcam. There have been some near misses that made his heart flip (Hell, back during that first Dubenich job, when Eliot had taken out all the Pierson guards and then given him that smug little smirk, for an instant—just for an instant—Hardison had almost thought their eyes met directly. He must have imagined it, too caught up in the incredibly sexy and unexpected display of competence on display in front of him to avoid a split second of daydreaming about what it would feel like to look straight into those incredibly blue eyes. Anyway, it had never happened again, and after working together for so long, they surely would have looked each other in the eyes by now if it were possible.), but no dice. Until now. Parker, though… Even while apologizing (he should have realized to be more careful with Parker), Hardison could barely keep the absolutely giddy smile off his face. There had been no mistaking that, and god when people talked about “getting lost” in their soulmate's eyes… Wow, they weren't kidding!

Nate will expound at length about how the concept of “soulmates” and consequently the act of making eye contact have been exploited and commercialized for all of recorded history, the absence of any scientific evidence that the rare ability to make eye contact with another person actually correlates with any real measures of relationship compatibility rather than being a random biological quirk that has been superstitiously fetishized, and (if the person who brought it up isn't desperately trying to escape the conversation yet) whether the concept soulmates is compatible with Catholic theology. Very few people last long enough through his disparagement of the entire concept to notice that he has skirted around ever actually saying whether or not he's ever made direct eye contact with another person, and even fewer are willing to risk touching off another lengthy tirade to press him on the matter.

Thanks @soulmate-au-bargain-bin for the fun idea!

#soulmate au #soulmate eye contact au #leverage aus #leverage ot3 #leverage #soulmate au bargain bin

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Madame Butterfly

twirls my hair at Man in Red (as a fan of the masquerade of the red death esp the flim w Vincent Price! i care about him sooooo much)

Rated T | Warnings: None

When the Red Butterfly, Madame Butterfly they called her, passed away the Man in Red saw it as an opportunity to collect more souls. More worshippers begging for his enlightenment.

What he had not expected was to see you, the successor to the Madame Butterfly. A gentle blue butterfly dancing upon the stage, the wave of calm and dream-like power freeing your people from his influence. Two fans, one recognized to be Red Butterfly's fan.

Seems you were her student as you dance the same way she did though yours has slight differences.

The first invasion was unsuccessful, he was caught by surprise. Then he received a letter written by you, a meeting to arrange peace. A naive notion! Never will there be peace so long as he does not own everything.

Including you.

A rare blue butterfly, one who dances in red to attract but soothes in blue. Your soul is bright and untouched, it beckons those who yearn for peace. He wants to rip your wings and cripple you, make you reliant on his embrace.

“Surely there is another way to resolve this?” You say while remaining seated in front of him.

“No. Surrender or die.” Firm as he stood at the opposite end of the table, “Your predecessor believed these humans are worth everything including her immorality, do not be as foolish as her.”

“There is nothing foolish about loving humans. We are to care for and nurture them. To help them when the time comes to pass on.”

“They are to nourish us!”

You look sad, and hurt, “Have you forgotten your humanity?”

His hand slams on the table, “There was no such thing. I am eternal as you unless you plan to relinquish your immorality for the livestock.”

You stand, “True immorality is forged by the legacy left by our hands, not by stealing other lives to prolong ours.”

The Man in Red swears he can see her in you, see the one who he wished to remain by his side. Yet, the Madame Butterfly gave her heart to a mortal who did not understand what he did not deserve! His eye is cold and piercing as he looks at you.

“Her fan.”

You look at it as you grip it, “Michiko… She is always by my side with this.”

The Man in Red scoffs, “Human ideology. We both know she is gone.” Cold, “You don't have to follow in her footsteps.” Moving around the table to be close to you, “Join me.”

“You hurt humans.” Shaking your head a bit, “We should be caring for, not hurting them.”

He invades your space as he leads in, “Join me, (Name), for their sake. Kneel or your pets can become part of my offering tree.”

You gasp, the offering tree that drains humans slowly of everything, body, soul, memories— It is cruel and used to empower your kind. “How can you be so cruel!?”“Cruelty? My little butterfly, cruelty is prolonging our war. You can continue to dance for your pets so long as you worship me.”

#idv #reader insert #identity v x reader #idv x reader #identity v #naib x you #identity v naib #naib subedar x reader #naib x reader #naib subedar x you #naib subedar #identity v mercenary #idv mercenary #identity v x you #idv x you

[1-800-cr33py]

Forelsket

(n) the euphoria experience when you first fall in love 

Okay so its not the best, Benadryl making life hard rn TvT

Word count: 3400

TW: It’s HABIT cmon nw, dubcon, he kinda breaks in????? Dom/sub undertones but never stated outright, breeding kind kinda, my bad writing while im sick.

Haven’t wrote smut for a while so this will probably be re-written when Im in my right mind

The taste of you was heavy on his tongue, so much so that every word, every breath was you, and only you. 

Balance. That's what the universe needs, enforced. A never-ending balance that no one, not ever the strongest or oldest of Entities challenged. Where there was light, there shall be dark and vice versa. Habit hated it. He hated seeing people heal, he hated seeing a familiar iridescent form from the corner of his eye. It was a never ending cycle; Habit would bring some undeserved wrath to some poor mortal unfortunate enough to have caught his eye, or maybe it was his hatred for the Slender Man that that pushed him, but nonetheless he’d drag out some unnecessary,torturous game that only he finds entertaining, and there you’d be. When Habit was created, born of hate and trickery; you were also brought forth. A being of an oh so tender light that even he could only stare in a curious awe. You were his balance, always there to counteract whatever damage he’d done. Habit hated you for a while, avoiding you for the longest, trying to reverse whatever you did; and for a while those feelings were mutual. You, still young and naive, believed that this was some kind of sick punishment that you’d somehow earned yourself in the brief moments you’d met the creators. Fos, your creator, a being of an eternal, cold light, caressed your cheek and sent you on your way, giving you favored blessings and best wishes. You were a favorite, a purer being that they’d created to serve as a buffer; sometimes you’d wish you weren’t. Habits, well habits made you sick. He’d toy with mortals like he was a creator himself,a god. And you’d mess with him back all the same, pulling his horn like appendages, calling him out on his name; a constant back and forth you'd both soon tire of.

“ You think you’re so much better than I, don’t you, pretty? “ his voice, rough and condescending, questioned, his many eyes all gazing down at you. 

“ Of course I do, mutt. I am better. ‘ You hated this man, if he even was one. It didn’t matter how many times you changed your form, he’d always make it his mission to make you feel small, weak. You couldn’t take much more after the Dark Ages, too much suffering and not enough time to fix it. You, and your brethren failed for many, many years. Fos, in all their luminal glory, felt pity upon you all, and gave most of you the sanctuary you needed to regain the lost energy and strength you’d lost during the seemingly endless wars and revolutions. It had been 798 years to be exact, and many things changed since that day. Ligo Fos, as your kind had come to be called, were ridded of your old appearances, no matter the differencing in forms. The small, branch like ‘horns’ fell, and your skin became soft, many ranges of colors that still felt limiting. 

‘ We must cater to the mortals, my dear children. ‘ Fos's voice was caring, yet stern. The Creator willed it, so as dutiful servants you must obey, lest you want to be repurposed. It would be alright. 

Time skip

Ligos Fos, elusive creatures known to heal the sick and punish the guilty. Beings of a light so bright that only artists can gaze upon. All these titles boosted your ego. Mortals viewed anything they didn’t understand as a higher being. They viewed your blessings as some mystical power that was your own. Laughable. 

As the sun rose and fell, you spent your days following your hellish counterpart. Trailing behind him wherever he went, fixing his wrongs. It was the late 90s when he caught on. Habit would flick his eyes to your hidden location and smile a cruel,twisted smirk that had only gotten worse than you remember it. Habit had changed, he wasn't a twiggy, short thing made of the darkest ink anymore. He’d grown into what mortals called a ‘man’. He’d taken on a vessel of sorts. A human man, barely reaching 19 summers at this point. You had to admit, he would be attractive once he grew into his looks. This ‘highschool’ and ‘college’ would be stressful, and human hormones would fluctuate often. Habit, or Evan, as he’d been calling himself nowadays, was almost dog-like, always chasing down something he shouldn’t, getting overly excited, etc. etc. His antics were cute to you, making you forget that this wasn’t this Evan person, whoever he was. This was Habit, your Habit. The same creature that mocked you, pulled at your cheeks until they were sore, muddied your outerwear. You felt pity for whoever Evan was, because you knew well enough that he was gone, his body nothing more than a husk for Habit to use and bend until it broke. For three years you did this, slowly getting closer and closer to the thing you’d been made with. Forced a bond in which you didn’t know how to work with or use in any way. 

For the longest it was awkward to say the least. Habit wanted nothing more than to make your life a living hell, doing the most trivial things to irk your nerves for the sake of it. 

“ Your cheeks puff up when you get upset, pretty. Did I upset the pretty dove? Ruffle your feathers? “ he, Evan, all but cackled his rough hands cupping your jaw. You were sure you hated him, but even you, in all your prideful ways, had to admit he was attractive. You scoffed at his statement, retreating out the door, your feet stomping angrily. He’d never let you live this down. Habit would call you brattish, daring you to object and ‘prove his point’; yet some part of you wanted that. A part of you that thought about the young man in facetious ways. Ways that would leave a damp spot in your panties. You suppressed these urges for the longest. Fos found it funny when you consulted them, thinking you were defective, broken. One had to admit, you’ve always been a theatrical type. Fos explained you were mature now, one of the first of their creations to fully mature actually; something that had you preening for a while. Fos sent you back to the mortal realm, with no instructions other than to get used to these urges, for they wouldn’t end now that they’ve started. And stars above they weren't wrong about that one bit. During the early months of spring you suffered. Your lower abdomen ached and your fingers didn’t provide you the relief you needed. After you found out about toys, they only satisfied you for about a year in total. By now, your ‘heats’ had begun to hurt progressively more. 

  ➞break

Habit knew something felt wrong. He felt something gnawing at the pit of his stomach, or a nagging voice in the back of the endless void he called a mind. Then it clicked for him. It was the turning of the seasons. Spring was approaching and he’d forgotten about it.. Habit mentally cursed himself. Quickly bringing the phone to cancel any and all plans or work he may have had the next week and a half. Sure his pockets would hurt for a while but he’d manage. After the first few days he began to feel the effects of his upcoming rut, and something told him it would be bad. His urge to nest and hoard was already something when he wasn’t being pumped full of unwanted hormones, but now? Now he’d be growling at air if he felt his space was being threatened. He’d spend his days shirtless, a pair of sweatpants hung loosely around his waist; a thin layer of sweat covered his body as he fanned himself. Habit’s house was on the verge of freezing, yet he still panted like a dog. What made it so much worse was that his cock ached, the tip a hot red now from past abuse and Habit still wasn’t satisfied. By now he was pushing 21 summers, well the vessel was anyways;  many of the entities Habit had familiarized himself with in the past now sired many cherub faced cambions, hell, a good many knocked up the Ligos they’d been balanced with when they were created alongside. One acquaintance spoke of how pretty her Ligos looked underneath her. Habit’s mind slowly drifted towards the idea of you, and how you’d look beneath his, whining and begging for him to fuck his cum back into your soaked hole, or maybe you’d beg him to stop, tell him you hated him and that he was lucky to even be this close to you in the first place. Habit laughed at the last thought, his cock twitched as he palmed himself through his pants. He’d have you. He needed to have the pleasure of seeing such an elusive, prideful creature reduced to a whimpering, blubbering mess below him, your voice cracking and begging for him to slow down, begging him to breed you. The mere thought of shooting his cum down your sopping hole made a guttural groan leave his throat as he continued to palm himself through his sweatpants. He ached for you, longed for you.

       -with you-

The empty feeling in your stomach was enough to make you whine. As much as you adored your Creator, they did little to help ease the tightness. Your hand was buried between your thighs, fingers soaked with your cum, and yet it still wasn’t enough. You needed something more than just your fingers and toys; you’d brought yourself to orgasm after fucking orgasm and yet you still felt wrong. Your body was slick with sweat at this point, the scent of sex heavy in the air around you. As you bit on the now clipped fingernail, listening to the rain outside the small glass window, sometimes you’d like to think that your savior would waltz out of the treeline to solve all your problems; you’d laugh at the childish thoughts then. Now you wish they would. You continued your daydreaming, oblivious to the creaking floorboards. You smelt him before you saw him. He smelt like teakwood and fire; he smelt like home, safety. 

‘ Habit. ‘ your voice croaked, hoarse from the screaming and whining you’ve done. Habit laughed, his voice gravelly as he continued. 

‘ So this is what my little starlight does in her freetime? Stuffing her cunt like whore? ‘ 

Habit laughed as he kicked himself off the doorframe to stalk closer to your now shaking body. You weren’t scared, but the anticipation, the adrenaline. You could taste it, it was addicting, for once in your life you allowed yourself to become addicted to it. Dark eyes raked across your body, taking note of how your nightwear clung to your sweat covered skin. You looked absolutely delectable like this, and you didn’t even know. Habit was an impatient being already, but what little patience he had left was thinning, the last string so close to popping before he allowed those urges he’d taken so long to suppress. The scent of sex made Habit lick his lips as he crawled atop you, muscles tense as his hands pulled at your sheets. Habit trailed open mouthed kissed down your neck and throat, leaving a trail of bites in his wake, hickeys would be a pain in the ass to cover tomorrow, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about the past resentment you had for this man, you didn’t care about the past teasing, arguments. Anything. All that mattered right now was him. 

Then he stopped, and gods above you wanted to tear his throat out. 

“ Tell me to stop dove. “ Habit’s voice was hushed, raspy even. He wanted you to tell him to stop, tell him to go fuck himself, find some cheap whore he could dispose of after he was done with them. He wanted you to tell him to go to hell, you weren’t like him, but yet here you were, shoving your head to the side, begging him not to stop. Your thighs pushed apart to fit his body against yours. To Habit, you didn’t want him to stop, no you wanted him to ruin you for anyone else, to leave an imprint of himself on your soul. A guttural growl left Habit’s throat as he bit down on your throat, a hand moving to grip your jaw. 

“ I told you to do something starlight, " the man spoke through gritted teeth, a cruel smile etching its way onto his face. Your eyes locked with his, dark eyes a flurry of emotions. Lust. Need. Somethings else you couldn’t name. To think you’re relearning each other after so long apart, and yet he still remembered which parts made you weak. A smile etched itself on your features just when you settled your hand against Habit’s that still lay resting on your jaw. When you turned your head to gently kiss his palm. 

“ If I wanted you to stop, I would've made you a while ago, Habit. '' your voice was muffled in his palm. “ And right now, I want you to ruin me. “ Habit’s eyes darkened at your words, pulling your hips closer to his, you almost whined at the feeling of his cock through the material of his pants. Habit’s lips were heavy against yours as he dragged his hands down your body, pawing at any exposed flesh he could feel, your soft nightwear being pushed out of the way for his preying hands to feel for more. You felt whole. His touch was electric, leaving sparks wherever his hands found sanctuary. Habit liked toying with his prey, feeding off their fear, their tears; and you were no exception. He’d tease, he’d edge if that's what it took for you to break before him. How long would you last? How long before you were fucked dumb? To braindead to speak coherent sentences? He’d find out. He’d find out if it took him all night and the next day. Habit’s hand slowly found itself between your thighs, the damp spot in your panties making him chuckle. His lips found your throat once again as his fingers traced your slit, gathering up your slick on his fingers before pushing them into your soaked hole. A breathy whine leaving you lips, eyes closing as your head lolled back into your pillow. Habit’s pace was slow, his fingers curling deliciously at that spot that made you want to scream. He wanted you to beg, to put your pride aside and ask him for your release that you craved so desperately. Maybe he’d be nice, maybe he’d set aside his usual cruelty and sadistic want and just give you what you wanted for once! 

“ Fat chance, pretty! Tell me what I want and then you can cum.” Habit was a bastard, he wouldn’t give anybody anything for free, what made you any different. And you gave in. You begged, borderline screamed pleas for him to just let you come undone, the familiar tightness in your stomach threatening to pop; but he didn’t allow it. Habit pried his fingers from your cunt and brought them to his lip. The sight was erotic, taboo. Watching him lick your slick off his fingers made your thighs close, or at least attempt to. Habit groaned and threw his head back, eyes closed as the corners of his mouth made a lopsided grin. “ Gods you taste better than I imagine dove. “ he voiced his praise, your cheeks felt hot as you averted your eyes. “ Please…” a weak plea left your lips. It was almost laughable to Habit, you were throwing a tantrum all because he wouldn’t let you get off? Cute, but he’d be nice just this once. His cock was painfully hard at this point, the tip a burning red as he pulled his pants down just enough to free his member. Your mouth practically watered at the sight, but there’d be another time you’d get to suck him dry. Your panties had long since been discarded, the fabric laying in tattered shreds on your floor somewhere alongside the promise to buy you more. You squirmed, trying to find any friction you could but Habit’s firm hands kept you still, his fingers sure to leave bruises with his grip on your hips. “ No no pretty, tell me what you want. “ he chided, a sadistic grin on his face. His hair clung to his forehead, a sheen of sweat coating his body as his muscles tensed. He was holding back, waiting for those words to fall out of your mouth, and gods was it worth the wait. “ Please gods! Please just fuck me Habit! Use me! I don’t care just let me cum-” your sentence was cut short as Habit thrusted his cock into you without so much as a warning, tears pricking your eyes from the sudan intrusion. Something between a growl and groan left the man’s throat. Your warmth sucked him in. Habit gave you a brief moment to adjust before his pace was quickened, his grip on your hips bruising as your back arched. His intent was to breed you, mark your insides as his. You were his. His to hold, his to kiss, his to breed. The thought of you round with his children made his cock twitch. You’d be such a good mother, such a doting mate. Your sweet sounds filled his ears, urging him on. Habit was running on pure instinct at that moment, no words were spoken between you two, because they didn’t need to be. A hand left your hip to press on your stomach, a toothy smile on his face as he leaned down to kiss away the stray tears that fell from your eyes. You looked so pretty, all fucked out, dazed, and all from his cock. “ Aw is my little dove all fucked out? To dumb on cock to speak now? “ Habit cackled as he left soft slaps to your cheek, and all you could do was nod. Your brain long fried as he fucked his cock into you. Gargled pleas left your lips, yet you didn’t know what you were begging for at this point. For him to stop? Fuck you harder? He didn’t care, all Habit cared about was fucking you full of his kids. Habit groaned as your cunt squeezed his cock, a rough smack landed on your thigh making you jump. His dark eyes met yours as he hissed out a threat “ You better not fucking cum yet. Not until I say so. “. He left no room for objection, so all you could do was whine and take it, cunt fluttering around his cock as he mixed degrading words with his filthy praises. A high-pitched whine left your throat as you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders, digging your nails into his flesh and burying your face into his shoulder; your pleas falling on deaf ears. You begged, cried, pleaded for Habit to just let you cum, that you’d do anything. Habit’s voice was hoarse as he laughed, a grunt heaved from his throat. 

Your vision turned white as you came. It took a few moments to come back to your senses and even then they were fried. Everything felt fuzzy almost, hazy. Habit, panting and showering you with sloppy kisses and half-formed praises lay on top of you. His weight was nice, you felt protected and warm. “ You’ll be such a good little mate won’t you? “ he grinned, wiping the stray hairs from your forehead before planting a kiss on it. “ Such a good mother too? Maybe I’ll just keep you plugged so it takes? You’d like that wouldn’t you pretty? You want to make me happy don’t you? Yeah, you do. “ His voice was background noise to you at this point, but his words made you smile. You felt whole, full. No longer longing for something you couldn’t have or couldn’t reach. Habit hummed as he stroked your face, watching you doze every now and then. You’d keep him happy enough for now. And busy.

 “ Oh don’t think I’m done yet, starlight, I’m just gracious enough to give you a break! Say thank you, why don’t you? “ 

#1800cr33py #emh smut #habit smut #habit emh #habit x reader #emh evan x reader #emh evan smut #emh x reader #emh x reader smut #slenderverse smut #slenderverse x reader smut #Im so sorry this is ass #send reqs #slenderverse #everymanhybrid x reader #habit everymanhybrid #everymanhybrid #evan everymanhybrid

[utilitycaster]

🔥 each member of vox machina

Vax: really the sadboy narrative for Liam has always been stupid but it's egregiously bad that it started with Vax, who is like, sad for maybe a fifth of the episodes and largely because Liam O'Brien's actual mother was dying, like, with all due respect what the actual fuck, fandom.

Vex: I am the founding and probably only member of the "Vex is my favorite character and also I am 100% cool with Colville's depiction of her." The generosity she shows even very early on in C1 is still a generosity borne of some degree of security - they have a keep by then - and I also just don't think you have to like a character to write them fairly. Granted it's been a minute since I read early VMO but nothing stood out to me as out of line with my understanding of Vex.

Pike: repeating myself once again but I like Pike a lot and wish we could have seen more, but because we didn't, people who say she's their favorite in C1 do tend to turn me off in that I feel they're looking for a relatively flat and widely praised character to project onto rather than a character who goes through more messy development.

Grog: I think he's often underestimated and I was guilty of doing so myself, to be honest, until I saw Travis play more and until I personally got better at D&D. Also I still maintain that playing INT 6 sensitively and well is infinitely harder than playing INT 16, all things considered, and this is yet another reason why people should play high INT more often.

Scanlan: Also underestimated; I do understand being turned off by the whole extremely horny playboy thing but as I've said before Bard's Lament is a major litmus test for me: if you think Scanlan is completely at fault here, you are wrong, and if you think he's not partially at fault, you are also wrong.

Tary: I genuinely love him and think he's a great character and one of Sam's best, but while his character arc is strong the Taryon Darrington Arc of the VM Campaign, through no fault of his own (and partly bc I personally think D&D Hell, especially pre-Descent Into Avernus publication, is kind of boring), is one of the weakest parts of the campaign because it's kind of a grab bag of loose ends. With that said I would happily watch more Darrington Brigade-one shots.

Percy: Percy is also generally a litmus test in that it's like. Is he a good person? Eventually I believe he becomes one, and even before that I think he's very sympathetic and deeply traumatized and like, 24, so I get it, but also, who the fuck cares. This ties into the Essek and the Ashton opinions and all kinds of other stuff but why are people so invested in fucking absolving their blorbo of all sins? I want someone who's lived enough of a life to have done some heinous shit because that's fun and interesting and it's pretend and also because then they can have a rewarding character arc by either working towards redemption or coming to terms with who they are or spiraling into tragedy.

Keyleth: I like Keyleth a lot but I am, as this post indicates, far more sympathetic to Vex, and so while I do think Keyleth is a fairly good person she is also extremely sheltered and naive and terrified of doing the wrong thing and I would have, like Vex, wanted to scream at her half the time were I just a random NPC wandering about the campaign. On the other hand C3-era Keyleth? fantastic no notes she has grown up in such an interesting way.

Tiberius: I think we, and by we I mean people capable of separating the art from the artist, can recognize that his concept actually fucking slapped and unfortunately he was played by someone who absolutely sucked in a myriad of ways. I would love to see the alternate universe in which the same general concept (prodigy sorcerer from Draconia who is full of themself) had to face not just the destruction of their civilization but the realization that they were taking advantage of the Ravenites and while they did not deserve to be killed by Vorugal, had done nothing to justify aid from those they had subjugated either. Like, the alternate world in which one of the current cast members or like, a close friend of the main cast (Ashly, Erika, Mary Elizabeth) played this is one I'd love to see.

#answered #burr-ell #unpopular opinions ask meme #cr tag

[sirianasims]

It was Saturday night. We had ordered room service, watched an old cult classic in bed. Paul hadn’t felt like going out. A reporter had cornered him in the airport yesterday and questioned him about his frequent visits to San Myshuno, asked if he was seeing someone.

He’d denied it.

Despite the fame, Paul was an intensely private person, always guarding his personal space against a world that kept demanding more. I respected that, even though I was more used to the opposite. My personal life was part of my online brand, but I’d followed his lead and kept our relationship secret.

Paul’s arms were wrapped around me, his chest firm and reassuring against my back. The rhythmic cadence of his breathing was like a soft lullaby, but I was nowhere close to falling asleep.

“Julia? Is something wrong? Are you still thinking about the reporter?”

“It’s just… all this secrecy.”

“You don’t think I denied seeing anyone because I’m ashamed of you, do you?”

I took a deep breath.

“Seventeen years, Paul. It’s not just the number, it’s the experience. I’m proud of what I do, I really am, but compared to you, drawing and sewing in front of a tiny camera by myself seems… trivial. You have this glamorous life, you know all these famous people, you’ve traveled the world. I haven’t done anything. Sometimes I’m afraid that I might not be, well, sophisticated or interesting enough for you. That I might never be someone you’d want to show off in public.”

“Listen to me, Julia. You are more than enough for anyone. Definitely for me. But if people find out about us, I’m not worried about myself. An older actor dating a younger woman? That’s not a scandal, that’s a cliché. But you… I really don’t want you facing the kind of judgment this would get you.”

“Wait, you’re saying you’re concerned about my reputation?”

“In a way. I don’t care what people say about me any more. I’ve been in this industry long enough to develop a thick skin. But you deserve so much better. And while it isn’t fair, the world is much more likely to judge you, and that’s the last thing I want.”

I cupped his face in my hands.

“Paul, I don’t care. What could they possibly say?”

He looked away, a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“Oh, you have no idea. They’ll say that you callously seduced me to further your own career or that you’re too dumb to be anything more than arm candy. Probably somehow both. They’ll accuse you of being a gold-digger. Men will hate you because they can’t have you, women will hate you because they can’t be you. People will be cruel and unforgiving and pick apart everything you are. They will criticise your work, your looks, the way you walk and talk. And it never ends. The peak of my fame was almost a decade ago, but they’re still following me into airports and asking about my love life.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond. Paul looked at me earnestly.

“Julia, I believe in you. Your work is great, especially your own designs, and I’ve seen a lot of costumes. I want you to be famous for being incredibly talented, not just for being Paul Romeo’s girlfriend.”

I couldn’t help but smile.

“Oh, so I am your girlfriend, then?”

He laughed.

“That’s your takeaway from this conversation? Of course you are, what do you think we’ve been doing for the last few months?”

“Well, what do I know, I’m just the dumb arm candy of Paul Romeo. I should probably be pestering you to buy me a sports car made of diamonds or a platinum ladder so I can social-climb in style.”

Paul chuckled.

“That sounds impractical. And you’re definitely not dumb, but you’re pretty terrible at being a gold-digger. All joking aside, I don’t like keeping you a secret either, but I know the dark side of fame, how toxic it can be. It can really poison a relationship. I’ve seen it happen to friends and colleagues over and over again, and I just want to protect you from that. Protect us.”

I respected Paul for his noble intentions, for looking out for me. Still, a part of me, that stubborn – and probably naive – part, wanted to stand tall and shout it from the rooftops, consequences be damned.

But I also knew that he was right.

Those consequences would hurt me way more than they would hurt him.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen5 #julia duchelli #paul romeo

[sgiandubh]

Honestly, I am not a shipper- but to each his own and I’m not here to judge others. I do really feel bad for Sam over all this mess about the letter he signed. I really believe that there’s a strong possibility that someone he cares for and/or trusts reached out to him to sign it and he may not have read it critically or completely. Whatever really happened, it just bothers me that no matter what he does he cannot win. People were upset when he said nothing, then upset when he signed the letter, and now upset that he apologized.

I may be a really naive person myself, but I just don’t believe the man had any ill intent. I think he probably doesn’t know a great deal about the politics, religious issues, or global policies of the region. I think he really just wants to advocate for peace and to provide for humanitarian needs. It’s sad that he’s getting such terrible treatment on SM, but I haven’t seen the same things directed at Jon B or Caitlin O.

Obviously I don’t know Sam and can only judge him by what I have seen of him, but I have only seen a guy who is nice, considerate, and kind to others. I have never seen him advocate for any kind of violence. I just hope he knows that many of us out here see his kind heart and feel bad for him right now. Sure, he probably does need to educate himself a bit more before saying anything else, but I just don’t believe his motives were bad. Many people feel upset about what is happening and helpless because they don’t know what to do. I think it shows that Sam is human like all of us.

Dear Only Anon,

Good morning and thank you for sending this to me. I frankly do not care who or what you are (an Only blogger, PR - to be honest, it does sound at times like rehashed talking points...).

This pretty much sums up the issue, however, and I don't have much to add.

I will never say S is stupid. But naïve and uninformed, for sure. And I suggest to those who endlessly drum the 'he paid for the articles' argument to read them. They are borderline derisive and comments are downright scathing. Now you tell me: who on Earth would pay to get slandered in The Daily Fail and so on? Sacher-Masoch?

You are, by now, the second Anon addressing this issue and to be honest, I prefer being on my merry way to the Farmer's Market after my cup of coffee.

Back later. Thank you, Anon, for dropping by.

#anon

[fallershipping]

Vergo's Revised Ideas of the SunMoon Post-Game

Due to dialogue concerning Anabel in Masters, and a lot of time to cook on this, I've decided to address something interesting and a bit bittersweet.

If you haven't played the post game don't read (i know who you are)

Anabel always knew she attracted UBs, or at least pieced it all on her own. There's so many things about her that is just entirely incorrect in regards to fanon perception.

The woman is amazingly observant. Throughout the whole SunMoon post game, she is picking up on many details; Looker's odd behavior, Nanu and Looker's familiarity despite never knowing about it before, and the fact that UBs always seem to treat her like prey or an enemy. Even in USUM, Anabel knows who the fucking new Alola champion is by just looking at you to Looker's surprise-- she's been around.

And yeah. In Pokemon Masters, even though she still has the same dialogue of never expecting the more experienced Looker working for her and not the other way around, she knew that UBs sought her out. And... She's made peace with that?

"... If I stay out of town, the damage will be kept to a minimum." "As long as I can protect everyone–especially the Ultra Beasts–I am perfectly content with my role."

Which makes me think about Looker's dialogue..

"It may be that she was wandering lost in the wormhole for some time... Regardless of that, she then entered the International Police herself." [Nanu asks if Interpol is using another person as UB Bait again] "Your assumptions, you are half right in. However...this mission, she chose herself."

So much focus on Anabel joining Interpol herself and choosing missions for herself.

By all means-- Anabel didn't have anywhere else to go. With being trapped in a new dimension, she needed to rebuild her life. But one thing is for certain; and that is that she was not forced. Mohn is an example of someone who is a Faller, but was not forced to join Interpol for example.

So much about Anabel's dialogue implies that the woman knows exactly what she signed up for when she joined Interpol.

The International Police is already equivalent to a Secret Agent Organization. In of itself, she knows she's putting her life on the line for the sake of others. She joined Interpol with the full knowledge and acceptance that she is sacrificing her safety to save innocent lives of people and Pokemon-- AND Ultra Beasts. Especially regarding UBs, she feels a kinship-- conscious or otherwise-- with the extradimensional travelers even if they hunt her down because she feels like a way home. She wants to protect them, puts their lives as important as any other, and does not want scientists to experiment on them. (I cannot believe how many people disregard this. When Anabel said it herself.)

In more ways than one, she's honestly just as stubborn as Looker. Overworking herself, thinking about work, and shielding others from danger. She was the kind of person to join Interpol and rank all the way to a leadership role that she ROCKS.

Fanon wise, people have considered Anabel to just be a frail, amnesiac woman who, just like Ingo, is broken and stuck in a time/place that wasn't her original world. That she is just being used by the system, naively pushing forward while everyone keeps the truth away from her.

Anabel literally went "Fuck That" and proved she's always been fucking intelligent and knows what's up, even if she wasn't properly briefed. But Pokespe addressed it-- And now, so did Masters. Anabel probably figured this out all on her own, and simply doesn't care. This is the life she chose and her duty is important to her, especially when Ultra Beasts need her help and countries across the world are always in chaos due to legendary bullshit.

It's also interesting to note that while she only brought Looker with her to the missions and that she always insists that he is a fantastic agent on a rank all on his own, Anabel always puts him in a safe location away from danger because he doesn't have (or had) a partner Pokemon. Regarding ORAS, Anabel might have figured that Looker himself is also a Faller... And just like how Looker hasn't gotten the gut to address this with her-- Anabel might be doing the same to him?

That's just a theory though. But it's still food for thought.

Regardless, Anabel always insists that his presence and backup alone gives her peace of mind. That she relies on him greatly as someone to fall back on, even though she also keeps him from getting the brunt of danger at times too.

And I guess that when they do have this conversation, she'll just say "Oh Looker I've always know. I'm not stupid!"

TL;DR Anabel might have already pieced together long ago that she was attracting UBs and is far more observant than we all assumed. She joined Interpol knowing her life would be at stake but her passion and determination and leadership got her to be Chief all on her own-- And she is proud of it.

[agentrouka-blog]

So I'm re-reading the series, trying to look at characters and plots in different ways and look for symbolism. I am doubtful of Dany, not full anti rn but wary. Do you think she could do good? Or is she doomed, always planned to be a dark/villain that used to be a naive child?

Dany was always meant to be a villain in the end.

This is in no way diminished by the fact that she started out as a helpless victim in a horrific situation. These circumstances inform her arc, they are part of what sets her on this path. But being a victim is not a qualification for goodness, it does not make people stronger or better. Suffering makes us weaker and worse. It is kindness and compassion that make us strong and that help us grow and heal.

Dany barely got any of that in her life. The things she does directly relate to that, to the poisonous way she was raised. She is a tragedy.

We are not meant to hate her. (I strongly dislike her, but that's my personal taste.) She is a figure to be pitied, even as we slowly discover her to be a monster shedding its veneer.

She wants to be happy, she wants to be a force of good. But she has no real concept of what that actually is because she was raised to view herself as inherently separate from other human beings, as a superior Targaryen catergory of her own, and being raised on the run with only Viserys her brother-king, she never had a chance to understand what connection and community actually are. But we need these things to properly function, they are the basis of survival, peace and justice.

Dany could hear the singing of the red priests as they lit their night fires and the shouts of ragged children playing games beyond the walls of the estate. For a moment she wished she could be out there with them, barefoot and breathless and dressed in tatters, with no past and no future and no feast to attend at Khal Drogo's manse. (AGOT, Daenerys I)

It is tragic when she believes her actions to be good and helpful, when they are often at least partly horrific, and she cannot see past her intentions and her own point of view. She is blind to her own hypocrisy. And it keeps getting worse instead of better because her inevitable failures meet "if I look back I am lost". Once she starts to truly question herself, she slips into an existential crisis that she quickly shuts down. The blood of the dragon does not weep. Her self-worth is too tied up in her dragon identity and the goal of reconquest - inevitable war, inevitable destruction, inevitable recreations of her past failures. She cannot let go of that goal, so she can never be free, and she can never be good.

#anti daenerys targaryen #tragic villain

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for trying to get revenge on the people who ruined me?

…I used to be worth something. I wasn’t perfect— far from it… I know that now, but I… I was good. Even though I wasn’t easy on the eyes. Even though most people didn’t like me. Even though I was a tad selfish. At least I had a friend. At least I tried my best to be kind.

But they took all of that away from me. And for that, I’ll never forgive them.

You see, I was Queen once— of a country that hangs in the clouds. It wasn’t always easy… like I said: a lot of people didn’t like me, but at least I was someone. I was important. I did my job, just like I was supposed to.

It all changed one day when he got me a gift… my best friend that is. He didn’t know it at the time— neither of us did, but there was something dark and evil inside of that brilliant mirror, and it soon decided to use me.

Dark forces warped me from the inside out, slowly distorting my perception of reality and even my feelings. I began to become a caricature of myself— nothing more than a selfish monster. I became paranoid, then self obsessed. I killed the rest of the royal family, terrified they’d try to take what was mine. I began to terrorize my people, and even mistreat my best friend. I stole countless bodies, making them own in a desperation to become perfect somehow, all the while the forces in the mirror watched on and SMILED.

You see, I was a pawn. The goal was…- well, I think it was something like “if we can get a queen under our thumb, then we can use that to vie for control of her world.” That was power they wanted, and they were willing to throw me under the bus to attain it.

Eventually, I was beyond saving. They distorted me so well and truly that I was practically unrecognizable. Running on only blind instinct and egomania at that point, I had the ruler of a foreign country kidnapped, senselessly tried to kill the man who was once my best friend, and then attempted to murder everyone both in my country and the foreign country.

…Needless to say, they put me down. The ruler of that country, his companion and my friend, that is.

I should be gone. But I’m not, thanks to him. That… that foolish, naive idiot! I can’t believe what he did. Still refusing to give up on me, even after everything that happened, my friend sook Death out and found a way to resurrect me, insistent I still deserved a happy ending.

Death ensured I was in my right mind again, but there was only so much it could do to mend me overall. I was and am broken. I always will be after what happened, I think.

My friend explained what happened, reassured me it was all okay now, and took me home. He said I’d be alright— that none of what happened before was my fault, and now I could finally be free.

But that’s not true. That’s not true at all.

First and foremost, my body… it’s hideous. Always shifting, at any given time it’s something between my despicable ‘true form’ and my monstrous Frankenstein’s creation. If you saw me, you’d gag. I can’t stand to look at myself. No matter how I appear, I always see someone evil staring back at me in the mirror. Someone who’s as ugly on the outside as she is on the inside. I hate her.

A few of my friend’s companions— ones far better than me, hypothesized it’s because I don’t know who I am anymore. As such, my sickening, parasitic body doesn’t either, and merely improvises in a futile attempt to capture ‘me.’

And saying I no longer know who I am is correct. I’m not just a stranger in appearance. It feels as if the girl I used to be has long since died— replaced by a callous monster. I remember it. I remember everything. I’m still touched by it, even having been ‘made right.’

I recall killing my family. I recall subjugating my people. I recall abusing my best friend, and I recall just how much JOY I felt doing it. He says that I’m not respond for any of that— that I wasn’t in my right mind, but I know that was still me. My innermost, darkest, sick and twisted desires. I’ll never be able to wash the blood from my hands.

Constantly, it feels as if I’m followed by ghosts. My skin writhes— and I swear I can feel my victims tugging at my limbs, demanding I return what isn’t mine. These hands… I don’t recognize them. I don’t recognize anything about myself. When I think about it too much, I get sick.

I’m broken. I’m ugly. I’m evil. And the people who made me that way have names and faces.

My friend… had actually met one of them. Sickeningly, they shared a mutual friend. When he learned what this person did (long before I returned), he attempted to get revenge himself, but was stopped by the group and reprimanded. He was told that the person who destroyed me— the person I’ll call ‘D,’ could still become a better person, and that he deserved as much a chance as anyone to improve.

Ahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHA.

D wasn’t the mastermind, to be clear. His king, who I’ll refer to as ‘DM’ was. DM is the person who corrupted me. DM is the one who made it so I could no longer love. But D was still an accomplice.

He watched on. He watched on, and made sure I was spiraling properly. When his master ordered it, he’d whisper suggestions in my ear.

Having come to terms with how unsalvageable I am, I decided I needed to make them pay.

D occasionally leaves his domain in the Mirror World, while DM doesn’t, so I started with the former. I ambushed him, took him down and took him hostage, hoping to draw out his master by forcing it to come save him.

But it didn’t even do that. Of course it doesn’t. I was imbecilic to believe something like that could ever care about anyone. D was just a puppet, too… it didn’t care if I disposed of him. It would just find another.

I was devastated. All my work, and I couldn’t make DM suffer. The anger overwhelmed me. Someone had to pay. I decided if it wasn’t him, then D, as his accomplice, was the next best thing.

I viciously attacked D and fully intended to torture him, but was caught in the act. My friend’s companions became aware of what I was doing and stopped me by force. They told me I’d done something evil— that D didn’t deserve that, and was trying to do better, just like I was.

In what world!? HE made me this way! He and his worthless master are the reason why I’m broken now… why I’m evil! How can it be wrong to punch back?

They’re why I’ll never be good. They’re why I’ll never be happy. They’re why I’ll never be a good friend. They’re why I’ll never be beautiful.

I’LL NEVER BE BEAUTIFUL. I’LL NEVER BE BEAUTIFUL. NEVER! NEVER EVER! THAT PERSON KEEPS SAYING I AM, BUT I KNOW HE’S LYING TO ME. HE THINKS I’M DISGUSTING. HE THINKS I’M A MONSTER. HE’S AFRAID OF ME. EVERYONE IS!

I’m worthless. I’m worthless and I’m broken and I’m SICK.

…Was it really so wrong to try and break the people responsible for that in return?

#aita #am i the asshole #unreality