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chattingwiththelightkeeper · 2 years

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Make Good Choices

Since I have been working from home and now in hybrid mode, I have learned that it is healthy for me to take breaks from my electronic devices. Sometimes just having a break from screens is refreshing plus it allows a person to get out and enjoy life just a bit. Sometimes though when I click back on the “uniqueness” in the online community can make me throw up in my mouth a bit. After doing a vigorous brushing and swished some mouthwash to get the taste out of my mouth, I thought I would share some thoughts for d-types who might want to change for the better.

Put away your penis. I have a news flash, your member does not have anything to do with how good of a dominant you are nor does it mean you will find the right submissive because of your pretty schlong. Now if you just want kinky sex, say that but just because you like it “kinky” in the bedroom, kitchen, or the monkey exhibit at the zoo it does not mean you are a d-type. It just means you like kinky sex. There is a difference between D/S and kinky fuckery. So please do not be a Richard, put away your baloney pony, and be forthright in what you are seeking.

Shove that pet name right up your ass. Never call anyone by a pet name, nickname, or anything but their name unless they have consented to it. Yes, many people do enjoy being called ‘a slut’ and things like that but by their partner, not some stranger who is choking their chicken while scrolling through their blog.

Take a moment and be creative with your blog title and username(s) on lifestyle sites. Please do not use something like Do-I-Make-U-Horny-Baby unless you are Austin Powers (groovy baby). Also do not try to be another wolf because the lifestyle pack is full of real wolves. Save it ‘alpha’ boy, the internet does not need nor want yet another gamma guy. When I see anyone claiming to be alpha, I think of Alfalfa and wonder if their fictional pack calls themselves the Little Rascals.

Speaking of blog names, there are so many variants of things (Gold star for me because I just used the word variant and it did not have anything to do with covid.) like you may call me sir or I am your master that not only is it sickening to me but it is downright disrespectful to submissives. This is something I have said before and will say again (probably right here in this little ditty), titles are something that must be earned. It is great that you think that your clever blog name will instantly give an honorific but for those of us living in this crazy place called the real world, these types of names are red flags. These red flags scream three warnings to all who heed them. First, it cries out of newbie d-type who is trying to fake it until they make it or the utterly clueless person who just does not give a rats behind and finally, it is a howl of warning that the individual behind the name just might be a predator targeting undereducated and new s-types.

Being a wolf, alpha, or any role in the lifestyle for that matter does not make you a gentleman. Being a gentleman is completely unrelated to anything about kink. Yes, you can be a wolf, howl at the moon and be a gentleman. You can also be the most serious and experienced master as well as *gasp* submissive and be a gentleman. Speaking of howling at moons wolfie-boy, do you howl when someone drops trou and moons you? It is important to note, that it is possible to be completely vanilla and a gentleman because gentlemanly manners, traits, and values are completely unrelated to anything in the lifestyle. This awesome lifestyle is just like the regular vanilla world, there are many more twatwaffles than gentlemen.

D/S is about a power exchange where the partners in the relationship cherish and believe in each other. All those amazing, erotic gifs and images you wank yourself silly looking at each night take a long time of relationship-building to achieve in the real world. You are not going to have her suspended from the chandelier naked, while you spank her with a riding crop with all of your minions watching on a first date. Seriously, it is NOT going to happen!

Just because you discovered BDSM seven days ago when you saw a posting on Reddit does not make you a dominant. It takes time, study, and lots of self-reflection and soul-searching to discover if the lifestyle is truly part of who you are. Invest the time in yourself before you hit the interwebs looking for a submissive.

Titles are earned by your words, thoughts, and deeds. You are not a sir, master, or daddy to someone until you put in the time, effort and they have decided you have earned the title. Do not expect a submissive to call you by any title because you say so.

The number of followers your blog has does not have a lick to do with the title you wish to be called. It is awesome that you have ten thousand plus people who follow your blog but that still does not make you anything more than a guy with a blog. So sorry to burst your bubble master I-have-more-followers-than-you but go out and earn that title from each of your minions individually.

There is no twue way, therefore do not be butthurt when someone practices the lifestyle differently. Your way is not the only way to do, live, or go about the lifestyle and there are a myriad of choices within the life so respect that your yum is yuck for another.

While there are a plethora of ways to enjoy the lifestyle, pay attention when someone expresses that one (or more) of your methods, practices, or desires is unsafe and/or requires study with experienced teachers. BDSM can cause physical harm, including death if things are done incorrectly.

This may shock all of you Christian Grey wannabes but Fifty Shades of Grey is a work of fiction. Fiction means it is not real, yes really, it is not real. The book is nothing more than the imagination of the author and it is NOT a how-to guide for the lifestyle, lifestyle relationships, or based in reality. No submissive is going to believe you that you will be offline for a few hours because you are hopping on your jet and flying to Bora Bora for meetings. Be honest, tell them you are jumping in your rusty Chevrolet and running to the grocery store. If ‘The Shades’ were set in a trailer park, it would be an episode of Criminal Minds rather than an ‘erotic romance’ on the big screen.

Being dominant is more than roleplay online. D/S is about the real world and you cannot order your “submissive” around by discrete texting them while you are loading up your fanny pack for a day at the theme park with the family. Not only will your wife catch you but the submissive you have been bossing around while your kids boss you, will figure it out.

Stop asking women to send pictures of their boobies, butts, and naughty bits. Having your Tumblr inbox filled with boobies may stimulate your head (not the one on your shoulders) but if you want to be a submissive’s leader, engage their mind and thoughts. Spanking your monkey while looking at her rack is not going to allow you to get to know anything about the person they are or what they may blossom into with the right dominant’s leadership. Instead, earn their trust so they will send you pictures of their naked thoughts unfiltered and not retouched. Get to know the mind of a submissive, touch her there before you go for the boobs, butt, or bits.

Submissive does not equal stupid or less than. Submissives are strong people who seek an equally strong person to lead them.

Whoa! Slow them horses down cowboy! A week of great conversation and even an amazing date or two does not mean it is time to pull out your trusty rusty collar and tell her she is yours. You have to earn her submission, which means you cannot ask for it! Go slow, build, and invest for the long term because the instant D/S coupling is not likely to bring long-term rewards.

Thank you for giving my rant a read and I hope that maybe just maybe it will reach one dominant who is misguided but involved in the community for the right reasons. Not only that, I wish it might reach a few newer submissives who have yet to have the experience to see through some of the common malarkey that tries to pass itself off as acceptable d-type behavior here on the internet. Please stay safe and on a serious and lifestyle-friendly note, the only person that can keep you safe in the lifestyle is yourself so channeling my best parental voice, remember to “make good choices”.

As with all of my writings, please see this disclaimer.

©TLK2022

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carcharadroid · 11 months

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Recovering from having been at one point “Tumblr famous” is weird.

Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t properly “Tumblr famous”. I wasn’t someone with generic enough appeal to garner enough followers for that. Didn’t really want to be either, I wasn’t trying to be. But I was undoubtedly famous in a niche. That niche being Wreck-it Ralph RP, of all things, back when the movie had only just come out and Tumblr was in its askblog/RP peak.

So, you know (which you might if you’ve been following me for long enough), I made a character! Made an askblog that over time became more of an RP blog. I got involved with other talented and popular RPers on the scene. By the time everything was said and over, I was just shy of 1,000 followers on my silly little niche fandom ask/RP blog.

I got fanart! Fanart from whole ass entire strangers. A lot of them weren’t even roleplayers themselves, they just followed along because they were invested in the story that was unfolding around my edgy little murder twink and the increasingly awful situations and people he surrounded himself with.

But, time wore on, and the fandom faded. Of course. But it was damn close to...7? 8 years? before the RP stopped. The fandom was dead but that just meant crossover was embraced and the fun kept on rolling for a good long time. But everything comes to an end, and between Tumblr shitting the bed by banning NSFW (which gutted pretty much every RP community, not overnight but sure close to it) and the natural inevitability of interests diverging, it basically ended and everyone moved on.

But having that kind of an audience for that long is one hell of a terrifying high, and the crash afterwards is humbling at best and absolutely damaging at worst. Somewhere along the line I realized that I stopped knowing how to create purely for myself and my own enjoyment. I told myself that was what I was doing from the outset (and it was true in the sense that I didn’t axe parts of the story to please people who didn’t like the shit I did), but the sting I felt from getting fewer and fewer and fewer notes as outside interest waned long before inside interest did still hurt.

It made me feel gross and egotistical, which didn’t help. I spent a long time beating myself up about it. Which, you know, also didn’t help.

I dunno. This is all some self-pitying bullshit and reading it back is making me cringe, but fuck it. Maybe this’ll help someone somewhere who’s going through anything even remotely similar. Being shocked with an audience you never expected, getting used to it, and then losing it has a way of making you wonder why the hell you bother to pick up a pen. I think that’s normal. I’ve heard similar stories. Seen them unfold, too. It happens a lot. My story isn’t special in that sense.

I still don’t have my muse back. Not quite. The past while has been a whole lot of me doing my best to retrain myself to create for myself before anyone else. Unrelated, real-life stress is making it slow going, but it’s still going and that’s what’s important. I’ve done small scribbles and sketches, all for myself, and it feels good to do that again. I’m just going to keep on doing that. Sooner or later, I’ll be back where I was before I accidentally caught that lightning in a bottle. And if I ever manage to do it for a second time, hopefully I’ll be more prepared to deal with the inevitable aftermath.

#uuhhh this is cringe oh well lol #*dox babbles

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monkberries · 1 year

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Hello hello! So, I first got into the Beatles fandom back when Get Back was coming out - I think the trailer with John & Paul dancing had just been released, and there was such a flurry of content it took me ages to read back through the 'classic' meta re: J/P up to that point (s/o amoralto, you beautiful soul!)

I was here for most of the release - I vividly remember the Casual Mic Deepthroat breaking - before taking an unrelated break from Tumblr, and I've only just started peeking my head in again this past month. My question to you now (and apologies if it's too broad!) Is whether you think the opinions on J/P have shifted in wake of Get Back (and another s/o to that heydullblog commenter, who I think might be the first person outside this platform I've seen state with such surety that J/P had a sexual component).

On a separate note, I wonder (assuming, of course, that your opinion has not gone in the opposite direction) whether you think *Paul's* thoughts have changed on the matter; certainly some of his quotes post-Get Back seem like he's more settled in his feelings re: John than he has been in years as recent as 2019-20 (the quote where he says PJ essentially saved his life by showing him/putting the love John had for him on-screen comes to mind).

And, all jokes aside, Peter Jackson himself sounds as though he probably had a similar relevation: I can't imagine Get Back being cut the way it is, otherwise.

Truthfully I have several more things I'd like to pick your brain about (you're still one of my favorite blogs!) but I'll leave it there for now! Hope this message finds you well, and isn't too overwhelming - I freely admit to taking advantage of Tumblr's limitless mobile ask. Take care! ☺️

Wow, I'm honored to still be a favourite blog of yours even though I'm barely here. That's really nice of you to say, thank you.

How have opinions on J/P shifted in the wake of Get Back... Generally speaking, I think people put a lot more emphasis on the fact that they really did love each other (in whatever form that took) and work closely together right up to the end. Whether people believe there was a sexual component to that... I dunno that anyone who'd never thought of it before was convinced of it by watching Get Back, but I think more people have been introduced to the idea and would be open to the possibility if they thought about it.

I honestly have no idea about Paul's thoughts on the matter. I feel like as he gets older and gets more distance from the whole thing, he has accepted that yes, John did love him, but I think seeing it probably brought back the feeling of it and made it more real. I'm kind of just guessing on that though, lol

#johnandpaul #get back #anonymous

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duetlyreads · 6 years

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Rant

Its late and I’m tired and stressed from upcoming finals and irritated at myself for other reasons and I just want to get this out even if I’m not a very active (in terms of talking to other bloggers) member of my fandoms because this has been bothering me since like December and I've had enough.

Seeing all of these wonderfully talented authors and fellow fans delete their blogs or contemplating deleting their blogs makes me very sad, but at the same time, I know that in most they are doing what they believe is best for themselves. I know that there are different reasons why different authors have chosen to delete, but I have noticed a disturbing trend of anon hate and increasing writing demands being a culprit of these losses. And I have some Things to say about that. Especially when it causes writers to feel like something they used to love doing is now a burden (this just breaks my heart)

It makes me both furious and sad to see that there are people who think it is ok to send hateful messages to someone, for whatever reason. To those anons, I am sorry that you have nothing better to do with your time than to try to bring a fellow human being down. I honestly don’t know what goes through your head when you hit that send button with that message filled with negative thoughts, but I am sorry that you lack the ability to express your feelings in a functional and healthy way, or even to be kind at all. Empathy is a tried and true method, and if you could put yourself out of your own selfish bubble long enough to see how you would feel if someone sent such a message to you, well, I hope that you would make a different choice. Whether you truly and wholeheartedly mean what you saw or not, whether or not you think you are in the right, hate is never the answer.

The sheer selfishness that some people exhibit when it comes to communicating with their so-called “favorite authors” is disgusting. If they really are your favorite author then you should have the decency to show some respect and understanding about how difficult it is to have a life and a current writing blog. Authors are not machines. They have setbacks, they have limits, and they have free choice of writing whatever the fuck they want. It’s their blog, and their choice, not yours. They do not exist to serve your every whim. If an author hasn’t updated a series in a while, what you SHOULD do is politely ask them ONCE (1 TIME) if they have a plan on when hey might be working on it again, and whatever answer they give you, accept it as canon. What you SHOULDN’T do is throw a tantrum like a toddler because your aren’t getting what you want or insult the author because they, a fellow human being with other things to do with their time, are not writing fast enough to your standards. How about you try writing a 20 part multific that's around 2K words each and update it regularly while being a full-time student/parent/worker, all the while either going through severe writer’s block or inspiration for writing a different piece altogether. Authors and bloggers alike are not perfect, nor do they claim to be. Cut them some slack and back. Off.

To the authors that have deleted their blogs for these other personal reasons, I first want to say that even though I may not know the details surround your circumstances, I understand the need to put yourself before others in order to be at peace. So in that, I say: “Four for you, Glen Coco.” Huge and amazing props to you for putting your mental/emotional/physical wellbeing over the wants and desires of others. I know that for many of you, it was most likely a very tough decision and a very painful time, but if it ultimately led you to feel peace or more at one with yourself, I applaud you for that. Even if you just transferred to another blog, that is still a great thing considering what may have been going on at the time. Things weren’t going so well, but you decided to start afresh! Go you! Secondly, I want to thank you. Not just for sharing your amazing talent with us, but for sharing YOU with us. You, who brought smiles to so many faces. You, who may have made us squeal inhumanly loud at the fluff, or cry uncontrollably at the angst, or have to take multiple cold showers after reading the smut. Thank you. You didn’t have to, but you did, and that made all the difference. Thank. You. And even if you are no longer writing on here or other places on the internet, I hope that you continue to develop your wonderful talent and share it with kindred spirits. Bless.

If you are contemplating deleting your blog for any of the above reasons or other personal ones, please know that whatever you chose, if it makes you happy in the end, I support your decision. Life is full of constant struggles and we never know if the choices we make are the right ones until after we make them, sometimes long after the fact. I can be a pessimist at times, but I like to think of life as a roller coaster. When you’re feeling down and miserable, I believe that at some point, things will start to look up. Your choices can either speed up or slow down that inevitable incline, but sooner or later, it will happen. Whatever you choose, try to make sure that it will make YOU happy in the long run. I believe in you. And if you ever need someone to talk to, my door is always open, along with my bag of doggo pics to try and brighten your day.

Tagging some bloggers and writers I know may find this relevant bc you guys deserve to know that you are loved and appreciated. Feel free to tag anyone else.

@mattmoredick @bucky-plums-barnes (special message for you in tags) @sexylibrarian1 @timeforsmut

(Note: It is 1 am and i honestly cannot rack my brain enough to come up with the other multitude of bloggers i know have been through this so im going to also tag authors who have been around for a while and have seen some things. Sorry if this is awkward! @persephone-is-here-omg @after-avenging-hours @angryschnauzer @buckyywiththegoodhair @lenavonschweetz @captainrogerss)

Tagging for Reasons:

@drearncatcher37 @runmild

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goodgirlofglory · 3 years

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That which lingered on his mind / Chapter 1

Prologue - Chapter 2

Pairing: Dark!Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 4,7k

Warnings: 18+, Non-con, dub-con, Explicit sexual content, Explicit language, smut, Graphic descriptions of violence, bondage (bound wrists), oral (f receiving), asphyxiation (choking), Cumplay, Some graphic descriptions of blood.

Chapter summary: Steve Rogers, Captain America and your former neighbor, used to harbour some secret feelings for you before he was turned into a Hydra asset. Now he’s come back to claim what he cannot rid himself of: his desire for you.

Author’s note: This one came to me a dark January night and hasn’t let me go since. This series will be about 7-8 chapters, so stay tuned! Not beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. My work is not to be distributed anywhere but my blog. Reblogs are welcome, though. And I so appreciate reading your replies and tags<3 hope you enjoy ;)

It started out as any other night. You had a cup of tea and scrolled through your phone for a while before a violent yawn told you it was time for bed.

It was a normal night.

Until you stood face to face with Captain America. Or at least, who you thought was Captain America. America’s hero and your former neighbor.

You had never really paid any attention to news about the Avengers or Mr. Rogers, and had never been one to socialize with neighbors. He lived across the hall from you and was quiet and polite, never drawing more attention to himself other than a smile and a curt greeting now and then.

That was until he disappeared off the grid about four months ago. It was all the news could talk about for a good three weeks. Gossip in the building also started flourishing. Where had he gone? What happened? Was he dead?

Apparently not, for there he stood, silent as the grave, inside your apartment, half shrouded in darkness, blocking your way to the bedroom.

You didn’t really know what his uniform used to look like either, but from what you could remember he used to have a star on his chest, and not the squid looking emblem he now bore. His face was also an unusual sight, jaw covered in a gruff beard, hair long and pushed back. But worse were the eyes; steely, cold and intent on you.

Had it only been good ol’ Captain America standing uninvited in your home you would have been scared. But this. This chilled you to the bone.

What the fuck was going on?

Your body froze as you stared at the man, who made no effort to speak nor move. Finally you found your voice.

“Excuse me, but what the hell are you doing in my apartment? Please leave before I call the police.”

You tried to sound tough, but your voice shook slightly at the last word. He must have picked up on that, for his otherwise dead eyes gained a slight glimmer.

“Please do. Their deaths will be on your shoulders.”

A small gasp caught in your throat. You were starting to become terrified. This was absolutely not the Captain America you had seen on the news nor the Steve Rogers you had greeted in the hallway.

“Actually, don’t bother, you’ll never reach your phone,” he continued, sounding far too nonchalant for the ominous aura he was putting off.

Your eyes widened when you remembered leaving your phone on the living room table, all the way across the room behind you.

What should you do? Run for it anyways? Scream for help? You opted for a seemingly less provoking approach.

“What do you want?” you asked, tears starting to involuntarily form at the corners of your eyes.

His eyes seemed to darken somehow, setting themselves on you with deadly weight, piercing your soul.

“You.”

Your fight reflex kicked in before you could think, and you lunged for the front door across the living room behind you.

But you barely got a few steps in before a thick arm snaked around your waist and janked you back to hit painfully against a hard, unrelenting body. You managed to shriek in fear before a second hand, big enough to cover both your mouth and nose slammed down on your face and muffled your cries, knocking your lips against your teeth. You tasted blood.

You kicked, hit and scratched at your assailant's body, but gained only a mocking snicker in response. His mouth came down to whisper in your ear, sending ice cold shivers down your spine.

“Please, keep fighting, it only makes this more enjoyable.”

You sobbed into his coarse hand, tears springing free from your eyes, wetting the skin of his fingers.

He tsked

“Cuing the waterworks. He wouldn’t like that,” he breathed into your ears and tightened his grip on your face, effectively cutting off your air supply. You squirmed against his arms in panic, new tears falling, not managing to move him even an inch. His grip remained as tight as iron.

As your vision blurred and you slipped into dark unconsciousness, you kept wondering what he meant by “he”.

You awoke groggily, feeling the muscles in your arms ache as they lay over your head. You usually woke up with your arms thrown over your head, so it took a few seconds to remember what had happened.

When you did, your body surged upwards, but was promptly janked back against the bed. Looking up, you registered for the first time that both of your wrists were bound to the bedpost above your head, using the bondage ropes you had gotten as a joke a few years back. Looking down you saw that you were still fully clothed, with your oversized UNI t-shirt and cotton shorts.

The knot looked intricate and a few janks told you it was secure as well.

Your breathing started to race as you understood you were stuck, and a cry ripped itself from your lungs at the realization.

“Ah-ah-ah, I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a calm voice came from across the room.

“HELP,” you screamed at the top of your lungs, ignoring the man who sat in the chair in the corner. It felt good to defy him, if only for a split second.

He made no indication that your behaviour bothered him, his stare as even as ever.

“I will kill anyone who enters this apartment,” he said calmly. “You don’t want to endanger any of your good neighbors' lives. That’s not who he perceived you to be. I, on the other hand, have no problem killing everyone in this building if it helps you understand what is happening here.”

“And what the fuck is happening here exactly?” you snarled, still janking at the knot around your wrists, bound just a little too tightly.

He smirked at that.

“Feisty, just like I hoped. It’s more...fun if I can break you first,” he mused.

He got up from the chair and moved over to the bed. When he got close enough you kicked out at him, and you would have hit him right in the gut if he hadn’t caught your foot. Not that it would affect him, you bitterly thought after.

He looked almost amused before twisting your foot around until you shrieked in pain.

“Oh,” he cooed, “remember to be quiet. We wouldn’t want anyone to come checking in on you, would we?”

He let go of your foot, and you recoiled in the pain that shot up through your body. A sob escaped your gritted teeth.

He snickered.

“Pathetic. But I do see the appeal.”

He leaned forward and grabbed your jaw in a harsh grip, making you look him in the eyes as he leaned in so close his breath brushed across your face. There was a slight hint of mint to it.

“What's happening here, sweetheart, is that I’m gonna get some things out of my system.”

His hand let go of your jaw and moved down to slightly encircle your throat, lingering like a taunting threat. Your throat constricted instinctively at the presence of his calloused hand. A smirk played at his lips as you squirmed under his light touch.

“I’m going to fuck you, Y/N”.

You thrashed at that, nausea setting in your stomach, your skin prickling as the words landed.

“No, no, no, please,” you started to mumble in your panicked state, janking more desperately on the knot around your bound wrists.

“Oh yes, and the more you fight, the worse it’ll be for you,” Steve smirked as he moved around the back of the bed and started to climb onto it, grabbing your kicking feet with ease, straddling your thighs.

Helpless to stop it, you watched as he took a fistful of your shirt in both his hands and ripped the fabric open, split down the middle, exposing your stomach and chest underneath. In the chilly night air your nipples hardened and goosebumps spread across your skin.

You saw the feral expression that grew behind his eyes.

He only hummed in response to your desperate whine, before letting a hand flitter up your hip.

His fingers stroked lightly up your torso, following every dent and bump, and you shivered at how soft it was in contrast to his earlier brutality.

Your breath hitched in your throat and his gaze snapped up to meet yours.

“Does that feel good?” he asked in a low murmur, smugness shining in his eyes, mockery dripping from his voice..

You shut your mouth and bit the inside of your cheek, tears welling in your eyes, trying to quell the impulse to scream.

You had no doubt in your mind that no one in your building could overpower the super soldier, and you were terrified he would keep his word.

You couldn’t let anyone else die.

A painful tweak of a hardened nipple brought you back to the room, and you cried out.

“Don’t disappear now, I need you present for this,” he instructed in a patient voice, almost like you were a disobedient child.

He bent down then, and took a pebbled nipple into his mouth while his hands landed on either side of your head, caging you in.

The sensation of his hot and wet mouth in contrast to the cold air of the room sent sparks flying through your body and, more horrifyingly, down between your legs. You bit your tongue out of shame, and tried to squirm away from his wanton mouth. It took only a single hand of his on your chest to effectively pin you down as he continued his ministrations on your nipple, sucking, licking and teasing with his teeth.

He radiated warmth hovering over you like that, his hand a searing presence on your skin, no doubt feeling how hard your heart was beating against your ribcage.

His smell filled your nose, musky, with hints of smoked wood and cedar, and something familiar and sweet - your own perfume. Did he go into your bathroom? Did he use your perfume on himself?

His mouth moved up your chest and to your neck, and he was so close, so overwhelming.

You squirmed slightly at his approach, but noticed that in this position, pinned under his thighs like you were, the fabric of your panties caught on your core, dragging along the awakened skin, and to your horror you could feel the slick starting to gather there. You stifled a whimper, face burning with dread and newly bloomed shame.

His beard scratched your throat as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling sharply.

“There’s that smell,” he murmured with a throaty sigh, “that smell he couldn’t get out of his head”.

What was he on about? Who was “he”?

Your mind raced with questions as his tongue started to lap at your throat, leaving open mouthed and sloppy kisses to your sensitive skin.

You closed your eyes and tried to resist, tried to fight your body’s reaction to his stimulation, but as his teeth nipped at a particularly sweet spot, your whole body shuddered involuntarily and a small gasp escaped your mouth.

His face snapped up from your neck, piercing blue eyes finding yours teary and terrified - and no doubt dilated.

He straightened after a second, and shimmied off from where he was still stradling your thighs. As soon as your legs were free, you started kicking out at him, rage and defiance surging, trying and failing to hit him in the chest as he effortlessly caught both your ankles and gathered them in one hand.

He leaned forward, face smooth and emotionless, and landed an open handed slap across your face a second later.

Your head whipped to the side, and your breath left your body for a second as your head swam, a high pitched ringing filling your ears.

You gasped in shock, your whole body going stiff as pain spread from your cheek.

You had never been hit before, and especially not that hard. Tears sprang forth from your eyes as it dawned on you how utterly fucked you were.

“Let that be a warning,” he said in a calm voice, seemingly not affected in the slightest by the violence he was so willingly dishing out.

The fight was out of you for now, and you could only breathe through the sharp pain that lingered on your face as he moved in between your thighs.

Sitting back on his haunches he started to remove the tactical suit on his torso, impatiently ripping at the fastenings as his eyes never left your face, red, swollen and wet from your tears.

You averted your gaze, disgusted by him, disgusted by yourself, desperately trying not to reveal your body’s reaction to his.

When he was completely naked from the waist up, his hands turned to your sleeping shorts, removing them with deft haste and surprising softness before leaning back again, his touch leaving your body.

Several seconds went by without any action, and your curiosity gained the better of you. Turning your eyes to him, you found him studying your body. His face was as blank as ever, but his eyes betrayed some sort of sentiment you hadn’t seen before.

“He used to dream about you,” he said after a while, seemingly more to himself.

He bent forward once he realized you were watching him, caging you in again as he hovered over you, moving closer and closer.

Face still stinging from his slap, you didn’t dare move even a muscle as his lips found yours. It started slow, but soon he grew impatient, and his tongue invaded your mouth, hot, wet and dominating, moving languidly against your own.

Breathless and reeling, a small whimper left your mouth, and the responding groan that emitted from his throat rumbled through you.

While still moving his tongue into your mouth, one of his hands reached down and you felt the distinct calloused warmth of his touch to the inside of your thigh.

A small, panicked “no” croaked out of you, but he only swallowed it eagerly, not letting up his touch as it zeroed in on your core.

You could feel his fingers touching the cotton covering you, and by the breathy laughter he huffed against your mouth, he no doubt felt how wet it was.

“Oh, doll, I don’t think you’ve been completely honest,” he mocked as he leaned back again and looked down at your ruined panties.

You tried to hide your burning face in the nook of your elbow as he ripped your panties off before bunching them up in his hand and bringing them to his face. But his eyes caught yours in a steel grip as he inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering for a second before a pleased sigh left his lips.

You watched as his tongue swiped at the wet patch of the fabric before he put the panties in his pocket.

You thrashed at his obscene actions, nausea burning hot in the pit of your stomach, mixing with your undeniable arousal.

What the fuck was wrong with you?

As your mind raced against the reality of the situation, Steve laid down on the bed between your legs. His mouth attacked your pussy.

A squeak escaped your mouth, hands janking at the knot around your wrists as he started devouring you, mouth moving between your clit and weeping wound with urgency, almost desperation.

A full on groan left his mouth as he lapped at the juices that were steadily leaking from you.

His hands found your breasts and started teasing your nipples, and you tried to squirm away.

You needed him to stop, you needed this assault on your senses to cease, because you could feel your resolve burning away as sweet, untainted pleasure started spreading through your body.

Steve’s tongue swept up and swirled around your clit, and you tried inching away. One of his hands gave your breast a sharp slap before tweaking your nipple painfully again. Another warning. You headed it.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, but in contrast to the last time it almost sounded like he cared.

You shook your head weakly.

He chuckled against your mound and gave your breast another slap, sending jolts of pain through your chest.

“Don’t lie,” he warned, but there was surprisingly little malice in his voice. “But nevermind. This pretty, swollen, soaked cunt tells me all I need to know,” he said almost fondly before giving your clit a few licks.

“Give in, Y/N, I can feel how much you want to,” he taunted in between licks and all you could do was lay still and take it, new tears streaking from your eyes and wetting the hair at your temples as you squeezed them shut.

He was right. You couldn’t deny the pleasure he was wringing from your body.

“I’m going to stay still now, and you move however you want,” he said then, before doing just that.

Somehow, having him stop was more torture than what he had been doing, and your stubborn pride, your better judgement and the stinging feeling of violation that burned in your chest fought against your body’s sudden need for stimulation - for his stimulation.

Something in you snapped, and you tentatively moved your hips so your clit could find his tongue, stretched out waiting for you.

You shivered.

It felt good.

You rolled your hips again, more firmly this time, and the resulting swipe of his tongue against your sensitive bud of nerves had your breath leaving your body in a shaky exhale.

His hands gave your breasts an encouraging squeeze, before resuming their attention on your nipples, and you moved your hips with more fervor.

Before long you were grinding yourself on his mouth, breaths coming out in puffs as your eyes stayed shut, losing yourself in the hot feel of his tongue.

Desperation grew as you could feel that distinct coil tighten in your abdomen, and every draw of breath fueled the build up.

Not thinking anymore, you bucked your hips on him in repeated motion, lingering on the edge of the abyss, searching for that which would make the coil snap.

A desperate whimper left your mouth and as a response, a rumbling groan from his throat vibrated right through you and you fell head first into your orgasm, entire body shuddering violently as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

He was on you as you came down, lapping up your release and groaning as you trembled at the overstimulation. He was frantically groping at your waist and hips, strong arms and hands grounding you as you floated on the aftershocks of your high.

The moment the orgasm faded from your foggy mind, it fell in on itself.

How could you let yourself give in like that?

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind trying to escape the whole thing, if only for a moment, go far far away, go numb, go blank.

You weren’t allowed more than a few seconds reprieve, however, as you faintly heard him rustling around before you felt pressure at your entrance.

Before you had time to protest, Steve pushed his cock into you, giving a pleased huff as your body squeezed instinctively, drawing him in even more.

Your eyes shot open and met his - wild and pleased.

“There she is,” he said with dark glee as he breathed hard.

You fought to draw breath as your body seared with pain of the intrusion. His girth was more than you could take. It was all you could do to handle the stretch of his cock bottoming out, pushed inside you to the hilt.

“Feel that? Feel how your willing cunt is swallowing me like that, inviting me in?”

He started to move a second later, not giving you any time to adjust, setting a punishing pace that sent sparks of pain up through your body.

You cried out at the agony, nails digging into your own palms.

Above you, Steve growled as he bared his teeth at you, slamming his hips against yours.

His cock was rock hard as it speared you, and he only seemed to grow harder at your pained cries.

Through the pain and your strained whimpering sounds, you faintly heard him mumble.

“- all those incessant thoughts about you….never like this….if he only fucking knew...ripe for the taking, and the bastard didn’t as much as ask you out...”

His hand seized your throat as he stuffed his face into the crook of your neck again, inhaling fervently. Hitched breaths was the only thing that escaped you at this point, as he kept up his torturing pace, abusing your pussy without halt.

“- That fucking smell in the hallway...never escaping it...fuck…gonna fuck those thoughts right out...”

Was “he” Steve? Was he rambling about himself? Or at least, who he used to be?

The pain had slowly subsided as you’d listened to the man’s crazed rambling, and a deep onslaught of pleasure was starting to make itself known with each punch of Steve’s cock. Soon your body started to tremble, and you fought against the coil starting to build again.

Steve shifted his hips to run his hands down your sides, and the new angle hit the spot deep within you that made your breathless.

Your mouth opened in a complete and utter moan, and Steve’s head snapped up from your neck, something akin to surprise in his eyes as he took in your face.

“That’s the spot, isn’t it?” he asked, and his voice was thick with pleasure.

You tried to avert your eyes, but his hand shot up and gripped your jaw, pulling your face so close that your breaths mingled. His stare locked yours in an iron grip.

His thrusts slowed, and he rolled his hips, reaching deep, so deep inside you, and a pleasured sigh left your lips to fan across his lips as he found that spot again.

“Look at you. Steve would never think of you like this - he respected you. Little did he know you were a cock hungry little masochist,” he husked, pupils deep pools of dark desire. Your cheeks burned as you clenched around him at his words.

He grunted, letting his eyes fall close for only a second, and you noticed how his long and beautiful eyelashes fanned across his cheek.

“Let’s see how much you can enjoy this, huh?” he asked in an almost mocking tone as one of his hands reached down to where his body was rutting into yours, and his thumb found your clit.

You cried out as he started an unrelenting circling of the sensitive bud, and he mouthed at your jaw as he hummed in response.

In the back of your mind a small voice was telling you to fight, to gnaw and hit and thrash until he understood that you didn’t want this. Another voice was arguing that you would only be hurt further if you fought more. There was no getting away from his intent and no overpowering him.

A louder voice was whispering that it was okay to give in. Give in to the way he felt on your skin, the way he moved in you, the way he looked at you. Give in to the pleasure.

Your orgasm washed over you like a warm wave, spasming through every muscle as they sung with exhilaration. A shuddering groan left your lips and your pussy pulsed around Steve’s cock. He growled as he crushed his lips to yours, and you opened yours willingly, moving your tongue against his in a wet and sloppy kiss.

“Good,” he praised in a groan after breaking the kiss, and to your surprise, something akin to pride bloomed deep in your chest at his praise.

You were completely lost in the pleasure now, in the drag of his cock against your trembling walls, his musky og smoky scent and those blue, lust-blown eyes piercing you.

His pace quickened again, and you could tell by the way his muscles tensed that he was closing in on his own release.

“I can feel you fluttering, doll. Listen to the sounds this pretty pussy makes. Maybe I should keep you?” he mused darkly, a small wicked grin on his lips.

For a moment terror flashed across your eyes. Keep you? In the back of your mind the pain of your still bound wrists alerted you of the implications of that notion. Your cheek was still burning hot from his earlier “warning”.

As if he read your mind, he sneered.

“Take what he never had. Continue to take what he never had. Make you mine, let you have my cock every time I want, keep this tight pussy on a leash”.

You heaved for breath as his thrusts grew frantic, and he raised himself to his haunches, hands a bruising grip on your hips as he looked down at you.

Under the dim moonlight his muscles rippled, shining in a layer of sweat, his hair disheveled and falling into his face, and those eyes, forever shaking the bones in your body.

Your name ghosted on his lips as his brows furrowed and your back arched as your third orgasm seized you by every muscle in your body, your head thrown back in a desperate, strangled whine.

“Fucking shit,” he exclaimed through gritted teeth, and as your cunt pulsed around him, you drew his orgasm right out of his body.

He gave a few stuttering thrusts before stilling, thrust to the hilt inside you. Through the blood coursing in your ears you heard his snarl as he emptied himself in you.

For a moment his face completely stilled, eyebrows raised, eyes fluttered shut, mouth slightly open. In that moment, you swore you recognised your former neighbor, Steve Rogers, Captain America in those features.

But in a moment he was gone, and this Steve, whoever he was, was leaning forward to crush his mouth on yours.

Still coming down from your high, you eagerly opened your mouth for him in a rather intimate kiss, one of his hands coming up to cup the side of your face.

You almost sighed at the softness of it all when his teeth caught your bottom lip and bit hard enough to draw blood. You yelped in pain as the iron taste filled your mouth and he let you wrench your way out of the kiss, snickering as he leaned back up and licked some of your blood off his lips. His eyes were wicked as he pulled himself out of you.

The emptiness he left behind was both a relief and a disappointment, even as your lip stung. You licked at the cut, wondering just what brand of danger had forced himself into your bed.

“God, what a sight,” he murmured above you, fingers dipping down to spread your nether lips apart as his cum dribbled out of you.

Embarrassment burned your face as he looked on, perverted astonishment painting his features.

Two fingers swiped your slit, gathering both of your releases on them before bringing them up to your mouth.

When you did nothing but stare at him, he simply whispered “open”.

You obeyed, holding his gaze, and he pushed his fingers slowly into your mouth. The mix of the iron of your blood, the salt of his cum and the tangy taste of yourself made your face scrunch up, and he hummed low in his chest.

“Does that feel good?” he asked, face emotionless but for the shining sin of his eyes.

You couldn’t help yourself, you nodded.

The corners of his mouth twitched up at that, approval coating his features.

“Oh, I’m gonna keep you, alright,” he murmured, dragging his wet fingers down your torso.

As his fingers slowly caressed you, exhaustion drizzled over you, your vision blurred, and you fell into unconsciousness.

When you awoke, bright daylight was shining in through your window.

The soreness piercing your muscles was like nothing you had ever felt before, but the sleep had been even deeper, sitting like a pleasurable hum in your bones.

You remembered immediately what had happened in the night and was relieved to find that your wrists were no longer bound. The bruises, purple and pink, would probably last for weeks.

The ache deep in your core made your gut wrench in remembered dread, but somehow there was a feeling of anticipation there as well.

A quiet voice inside you whispered that you hoped he would stay true to his word, and come back.

Author’s note: Christ. Sometimes I wonder if there’s a blood kink brewing inside me.

Taglist:

@thedaughterofwandavision , @hellotvshowtrash

If you want to be added to the taglist, leave a note on any of my fics or send me an ask<3

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x Y/N #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers smut #dark!steve rogers x reader #captain hydra #captain hydra x reader #captain hydra x Y/N

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multiplefandomsblog · 3 years

Text

you know too much.

pairing(s); kokichi x gn! reader.

warning(s); fluff, angst, bad dreams, procrastinating, also the title was supposed to be in kokichi's pov btw— and don't let it fool you, this isn't as angsty as it sounds, cuddling, kisses, gender neutral reader, not very descriptive so mostly self-indulgent, was stressing so i just needed some needy tsun tsun kokichi lmfao-

note; this was originally supposed to be a saiouma fic but i didn't think anyone would read it considering this is a mostly x reader based blog- so i changed it. also i feel like i somehow plagiarized this or smth- idk if that makes sense but this doesn't feel like an original idea- so if you've already done/read this and feel like it might be similar, just tell me fsdjnfsbjkhs

wc; 0.5k+

“What are you doooing?” Kokichi dragged out his syllables, much like a bored child.

“Uh- no, what are you doing?” You countered, to his expectancy. He put on an innocent expression as if he didn’t know what you were talking about despite the evidence being, well, his positioning.

“Whatever do you mean?” He tilted his head in mock confusion.

With your features softening as you sighed in defeat, you unintentionally let the true emotion of your stress seep through your frown.

Despite yourself truly wanting to lash out and to just, directly tell him what you wanted; you knew it wouldn't be fair to him to do so. “... Kokichi, please. I’m trying to study.” An evident pout creased into his soft cheeks at your dismissive reply, a high whine threatening to erupt from his throat — easily overlapped by a suggestive remark.

“I know something else you could study~” He wouldn't get off until you had given him your full unadulterated attention, that much was clear when he started getting alarmingly comfortable in your lap. From the way he slipped his arms around your waist and tangled your legs with his, you concluded he... Probably wasn't going to leave for a long while.

You stayed silent in thought, reading into his behaviour as your dagger-like eyes daggers bore into his unrelenting purple eyes.

"Did you have another bad dream? Or did you just want my attention?" A tiny infuriating smile grew on your face, smugness written all over your tired features.

It was a fair assumption; Kokichi had been getting night terrors, waking up in cold sweat — as you, in turn, woke up the next day to the small gremlin snuggled up to you, fast asleep.

It was a cute sight to see.

...

Kokichi didn't know you knew about his nightmares, but who was he kidding? You knew everything.

Kokichi's face melted into an expression of temporary shock, before flushing an embarrassing shade of pink. He had been expecting you to push him off, tell him you were busy, and he would, in turn, tell you no and force you to pay attention to him.

But that didn't happen.

"... Whaaat? Me? Want your meaningless attention? Yeah, right! I was just trying to distract you from your never-ending workload, you know." No, why did you say that, you numbskull? Now they won't-

A small, sweet peck thankfully stole him from his thoughts, though not thankfully brought a harsher, warmer shade of red onto his face.

"Eh?" Kokichi flushed, much to his dismay. He hadn't intended to show his emotions; as he was afraid it would only stress you out more knowing that he really did want your attention — but it seemed that he had been more vulnerable with you than he initially desired.

"It's okay, just... come here." That isn't what he wanted you to say.

Or, more accurately, he didn't know that was what he wanted at the time.

"... You're so boring." He murmured as he decided to give in, anyway, laying down on your torso for your sake, not his; is what he'd tell himself.

You laughed at his childish brooding, rumbles of your amusement resonating out of your chest and travelling to his. "Okay." You grinned as you rubbed your hands on the small of his back comfortingly, unknowingly causing him shivers to travel up his spine.

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walkerismychoice · 3 years

Text

Queen of My Heart - Chapter 38 (The End!)

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake X MC, Liam X Olivia, Hana X OC Lydia

Rating: PG-13

Summary: The show comes to and end, and Riley contemplates her future

Author’s Note: I can’t believe I’ve finally brought this series to an end. There was quite a long time I thought I may never finish. I want to thank all the readers and friends who’ve read and encouraged me along the way. I want to especially thank @debramcg1106 as of late for helping me work through the ending and pushing me to finish it out. This is the technical end of the story, but I do have an epilogue planned as well.

Tag List: @khakie4 @dreadpirateemma @ritachacha @blackcoffee85 @choices-fanatic @boneandfur @butindeed @simplyaiden-blog @bobasheebaby @traeumerinsworld @theroyalweisme @umccall71 @lizeboredom @debramcg1106 @enmchoices @withice @viktoriapetit @mfackenthal @drakesfiance @drakelover78 @speedyoperarascalparty @silviasutton1989 @krisnicjack @devineinterventions2 @choiceswreckedme @notoriouscs @blackcatkita @hamalu @akrenich @drakewalkerfantasy @jamielea81 @andy-loves-corgis @jlouise88 @jovialyouthmusic @sleepwalkingelite @i-miss-trr @dragonball-luver @gkittylove99 @lovingchoices14

Word Count: 2230

Queen of My Heart Chapter Index

Due to everything that transpired, filming of the finale was delayed two weeks. Riley was grateful for the time and hardly left Drake’s side during his recovery. He was sent back to the palace after a couple days, and Riley had to convince him that whiskey was not a suitable replacement for the antibiotics and pain medication the doctor prescribed. Reluctantly he obliged. He worked with physical therapy, and by the end of those two weeks, you’d have hardly known he’d been injured at all.

Olivia was salty her ball had been ruined, but the production staff made up for it, giving her and Liam an overnight filmed at Olivia’s northern Lythikos retreat. She was still worried the country would favor Riley with Liam, but Kat assured Olivia between her heroic actions, personal growth, and some favorable editing, it would be hard for most people not to be on her side.

As for Madeleine, it was still unclear if she would be charged criminally or would be incompetent to stand trial due to her mental health, but either way, she wouldn’t be a danger to anyone for quite some time. It was questionable if Jo’s involvement in the whole thing broke any laws. She wasn’t Cordonian, so she couldn’t be charged with treason for skirting security and endangering the life of the crown prince, but authorities were looking to see if there was anything they could make stick. At the very least she was blacklisted and would never work in television again.

So finally, on a calm, clear, day, there was only one obstacle left. Riley met with Liam, adorned in a stunning, body-hugging, Swarovski crystal filled dress, to put on the performance of a lifetime and act as if he’d shattered her heart. Of course, it wasn’t that easy. There were a couple of takes where neither of them could keep a straight face followed few that were unbelievably dramatic, but ultimately Riley was able to tap into her vulnerability and the tragedy she had faced to bring genuine emotion and tears to light. It didn’t matter that it was unrelated to what was happening in the scene, it was real. Kat said it was perfect, and Liam was free to propose to Olivia.

-----

Now that all is said and done, who will Liam choose to be his future Queen? Will it be the fierce Duchess Olivia, or the plucky newcomer Riley? Stay tuned for the finale of Queen of My Heart.”

Maxwell draped his arm around Riley’s shoulder. “What do you think, sis? How did I do on my television debut.”

Maxwell, Bertrand, Savannah, Hannah, Lydia, Liam, Olivia, Riley, and Drake were all huddled in the palace screening room to watch the finale as it aired.

Just about anyone would have been an improvement over Chad,” Riley teased, ”but the squid suit was definitely a nice touch. Your delivery was great, but did you have to call me plucky?”

“You know I had to play it cool,” Maxwell explained. “Plucky is good, but not over the top. Don’t want anyone thinking I’m playing favorites because you’re my sister.”

Riley rolled her eyes. “The suggested ‘noble newcomer’ would have been sufficient.”

“It was a stylistic choice.” Maxwell made a gesture with his hand indicating a mock hair flip.

"Ugh, enough about Maxwell," Olivia groaned. "I'm ready to get to the good part. Can we just fast-forward through any mushy Liam and Riley stuff? Nobody needs to see that."

"I second that." Drake raised his hand in rare agreement with Olivia.

Liam just shook his head. "I know nobody watches live network television anymore, so you must have forgotten how this works. There's no fast-forwarding. Not even through commercials."

"That's fine with me." Lydia chimed in. "More time for making out."

"Lydia!" Hannah's cheeks turned a deep shade of pink.

Lydia pecked her on the lips. "Sorry babe. You're just too damn cute when you blush."

Hannah remained quiet but her smile gave her away. Lydia, with her outgoing, bold, and slightly unpredictable personality, was the perfect complement to Hannah being so shy, proper, and focused. They brought out the best in each other, and the difference in Hannah between when Riley met her until now was night and day.

The friends watched the show and Riley only cringed at herself in a few places, which was much less than she thought she would. Things did get a bit awkward during the montage of kissing scenes between Riley and Liam, and Maxwell and Bertrand made a show of covering their eyes for the steamier parts. They all laughed inappropriately when Liam dumped Riley since they knew it wasn't real. And then finally when Liam proposed to Olivia, everyone cheered.

Riley thought of her friends and family at home. She pictured aunt Susan, Sarah, and Daniel all rooting for her and how disappointed they must have been that she "lost." She couldn't wait to tell them, however, she hadn't lost at all.

"Wow, Livvy." Drake quipped, bringing Riley out of her deep thoughts. "How much did you have to pay them to give you such a flattering edit?"

Olivia threw a pillow at his head which he deftly dodged. "Fuck off, Walker. You were so desperate to get on the show, you leapt in front of a bullet."

"Now, now children." Liam said in a mock scolding tone. "Let's all play nice."

"Yes, father," Drake and Olivia replied in unison, causing laughter to erupt around the room.

Riley still didn't have all the answers about what her future would hold, but she had found her people. Where she was in that moment was where she needed to be.

Savannah yawned. "It's getting late. We should probably go and relieve the sitter." Riley hasn't wanted to pry into Savannah and Bertrand's relationship, but they were working together to parent Bartie and things seemed to be falling into place for them.

"Yes, yes." Bertrand agreed. "Time is money!"

"Oh my god, Bertrand." Savannah rolled her eyes. "Life isn't all about money."

"She’s right." Maxwell propped his arm on Savannah's shoulder. "Besides, now that the show is over, we'll be getting some money, and Kat said if viewers responded well to me, they would probably offer to extend my contract in the franchise. By the looks of these tweets, I'm going to be rolling in dough. 'That Maxwell guy is so hot...ridiculously funny...just what the show needed.' Should I read more?

"Please no." Bertrand groaned. "We can talk finances later. Goodnight, all."

As the rest of the crowd dwindled, Liam asked Drake and Riley to stay behind. He kissed Olivia and promised to join her when the conversation was through.

"So what's up?" Drake got right to the point once only the three of them remained.

Liam cleared his throat. "Well as you know, I highly value your loyalty to the crown."

"Heh." Drake let out a terse laugh. "I don't really give a fuck about the crown, but I do care about you."

"In any case, you take your job very seriously and I could see you as head of the guard one day, once Bastien retires." Liam paused before continuing. "However, I do have another proposition for you."

Drake raised an eyebrow skeptically. "Go on."

"How would you like to be the head of Valtoria?" Liam asked expectantly.

Drake' eyes narrowed in contemplation. "I thought Valtoria was unoccupied. Is there a new Duke or Duchess there now that needs a security detail?"

"No, no." Liam laughed. "Well, there could be. That's what I'm trying to ask you. I would like to give Valtoria to you."

"No fucking way. You have to be kidding me. Did you sign up for some royal version of a prank show now?" Drake scanned the room as if searching for hidden cameras.

"I'm serious, Drake. I think you would make a fantastic duke."

Drake scoffed. "I'm a commoner who despises most nobles and everything the monarchy stands for."

"That's exactly why you'd be perfect for the role." Liam explained. "Cordonia needs a fresh perspective - someone who can resonate with the people the monarchy serves. Just think, you could have a real voice in creating change. I don't want to rule like my father has and his father before. I want the people to have the representation they deserve, and you are a key to that."

Drake sighed deeply. "I don't know Li. Even if I could do this - if I wanted to - what makes me worthy? What's everyone going to say when they find out you gave an average dude the title of Duke just because he's your best friend?"

"I'll tell them that Drake Walker is anything but average. He's smart, capable, and fiercely loyal. He's saved my life more times than I count and has more integrity than anyone I know. Public policy can be learned, but these qualities cannot be taught. He may not be noble by blood, but he is my family, and he belongs."

'Wow, Liam." Drake ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say."

"You're quiet over there." Liam directed at Riley. "What do you think?"

"Me?!" Riley had been as shocked by this as Drake, and she didn't know what to think. This was about Drake, not her. Did her opinion really matter? "I, uh.... think this is really Drake's decision."

Drake took Riley's hands in his. "But it's yours too. I mean, if we are going to be together..."

"Oh, well..." How was Riley supposed to help Drake decide such a life altering thing when she didn't even have her own life sorted out?

Drake didn't leave her fumbling for too long. "Liam, I really don't know if either of use is equipped to answer this question right now. It's a very generous offer, and the fact that I'm not totally shutting you down for suggesting such a ridiculous thing as me being a Duke should tell you I'm genuinely willing to entertain the idea."

Liam chuckled. "I completely understand. This life is new to both of you in different ways, and to navigate a new relationship on top of all that is a lot to ask. I'm in no hurry to fill the vacancy. Consider it an open-ended invitation. I trust that you'll be ready to make your decision long before the public pressures me into making a new appointment."

"Thanks, Liam." Drake gave him hug and patted him on the back. "Now get back to your fiancé before she blames me for keeping you too long."

-----

Back in her palace guestroom, Riley nestled into Drake, her head resting on his chest. "It's been quite a night, huh?

"You could say that again." Drake pulled her tighter against him.

"I kind of feel like we're moving so fast, we're skipping steps - like we're being asked to decide the rest of our lives before we even know what we want to do tomorrow." Riley knew nobody was outright asking for an immediate decision, but she felt the weight of everyone's expectations. Whether she stayed in Cordonia or went back home, she'd probably be disappointing someone.

"Who says we have to?" Drake asked. "You heard Liam. He doesn't need an answer right away. I Know you haven't decided what you want, and I sure as hell don't know what I'm going to do yet. Why don't we take some time together to just...be. Do normal couple things and see where the relationship takes us."

"Normal couple things... I mean I don't know how I can go back to my normal peasant life after attending weekly balls dressed in couture gowns," Riley teased, "but I think I could make that sacrifice for you, my commoner boyfriend."

"Hey, watch who you are calling commoner." Drake pinned Riley down and tickled her sides until she begged him to stop, and he collapsed beside her again. "I just may outrank you soon if I so choose."

Riley laced her fingers through Drake's. "It's crazy to think how our lives have changed in a few short months. I don't think I could have made it through all of this without you, and not just because you kept literally saving my life."

"You may not have taken a bullet for me, but you've saved me too. For once in my life, I see multiple paths with meaning and purpose. I've seen so much of myself reflected in you, but it id the version of me I want to be, not the one I was. You've shown me trials and hardships don't have to make you bitter, and that you don't have to fit the cookie cutter mold to find your place here... Oh, God, listen to me. What have you done to me Bennett?" Drake shuddered in mock disgust.

Riley softly pressed her lips to his and pulled back with a smirk. "I don't think I can take all the credit, or the blame as you might put it. But enough talk about the future. You said we should focus on the now, and right now all I need is you."

"Well then, your wish is my command." Drake pulled Riley tight to him and then they lost themselves in each other, completely unencumbered by any decisions about their future. Those could wait for another day.

#playchoices fanfic #drake x mc #drake walker #the royal romance #choices trr #qomh #my fic

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my-personal-multiverse · 3 years

Note

I saw your anti-Bangel I Will Remember You post, and if I remember correctly, didn’t Angel ask the powers to swallow the day because the Powers That Be told his Buffy was going to die? And him turning back time would either allow him to help her in the battle to come, or prevent her death entirely? Everyone is entitled to their opinion, but isn’t it about Angel being selfless and giving up the one thing he’s always wanted to keep Buffy safe and alive? Love you blog btw

I think that before that point he's already fucked up by even going to them to talk about all this without having talked to her first. That's the whole problem, he thinks it's up to him to protect her like a little child as though she doesn't deserve a say in the matter. All this concerns her. Even if they hadn't swallowed the day and just turned him back he still should have talked to her. Because he's making decisions that will severely impact their relationship and as such her life because he thinks he needs to protect her (which she has said he doesn't) without consulting her. Or even telling her. Like "hey Buffy I'm going to ask them to turn me back" "but angel then we can't be together why???" *insert bangel drama*. End in the end Buffy would have ended up agreeing with him if he had been like "I need to do this to protect the people" because she understands that. ( on top of all this there's the fact that angel simultaneously is like "can't be with Buffy as a human because I need to be a strong vampire to protect her and would only get in the way" and also "can't be with Buffy as a vampire because she needs a normal human guy and life" like should Buffy just stay single forever.)

I think one of the reasons I am so incredibly mad at angel in this episode and this episode as a whole is that it starts with this conversation:

(I took the dialog from the transcripts wiki because I didn't want to have to rewatch the entire thing myself.)

Angel: "Well, umm, it's good to.. Can I get you anything?"

Buffy: "How about - an explanation? - Who do you think you are coming to my town and following me around behind my back?"

Angel: "I'm sorry."

Buffy: "What is this? (...)"

...

"(...) What are we playing here?"

Angel: "We're not. I'm not playing anything. I wrestled with this decision.."

Buffy: "Which you made without me."

(this line is so important to me. They start the episode with this and then instead of really exploring this and maybe dealing with the persistent problem in Buffy and angels relationship where he doesn't allow her to make these choices or communicate with her they just ignore this and let him continue to do the same bullshit she calls him out for and then try to make it romantic. Wtf)

Angel: "I tried to do what I thought was right. It's complicated how this all happened, Buffy, you know? (...)"

...

Buffy: "You didn't feel that I was important enough to even tell me that you were there."

Angel looks at her: "I'm trying to explain. It's because I felt that you're important that I didn't tell you." (what are you on about angel?? "I don't tell you things because I care. I go behind your back because I care." what kinda Kindergarten "he's mean because he likes you" bullshit is this)

Buffy: "I'm a big girl now, Angel. I'm not in High School anymore. A lot has happened in my life since you left."

Angel: "I know. I respect that." ( maybe show that by not doing the same thing again angel)

Buffy: "And I don't need you skulking around, trying to protect me. (...)"

I really don't know how much clearer she could be. Don't make choices behind my back trying to protect me. She literally traveled to LA to tell him this. That's how much it bothered her.

Also the fact that he leaves while she's sleeping without telling her. Like yes he is human now and the curse isn't in effect but that doesn't change the fact that she has trauma about sleeping with guys and them not being there in the morning. He might not know about Parker but he knows what happened the last time they slept together and he can't be that oblivious to how that affected her and how him just leaving in the night without waking her or even leaving a fucking note is just fucked. It's fucked. And if he really doesn't understand this he doesn't understand her and lacks basic fucking empathy.

Buffy: "Where is Angel?"

(some back and forth)

Cordy with a sigh: "He told me not to tell you."

What the fuck angel?? Not just not telling her but explicitly telling others to not give her information and keep her out of the loop.???. That isn't some oversight oops I forgot that is an active choice to keep her in the dark about things and not allow her any agency to make choices.

(side note: I generally love cordy but "(...) And anyway, it's your fault that he went to fight that thing by himself without..". Yeah no. Don't go blaming Buffy for angels choices. She's not responsible for any of this. She didn't make this choice. Angel made sure of that.)

And about the oracles

Angel: "The Mohra demon said the end of days had begun. That others were coming, soldiers of darkness. I need to know if he was telling the truth."

Man: "As far as such things can be told."

(super vague and literally my point. "as far as such things can be told" nothing is written in stone. Prophecy gets misinterpreted. It is not fact.)

Angel: "What happens to the Slayer when these soldiers come?"

Woman: "What happens to all mortal beings. Albeit sooner in her case."

Angel: "She'll die? - Then I'm here to beg for her life."

(she was prophecied to die and survived it before. Like you can't take any of this at face value. And she gets brought back the next time too and him being or not being a vampire has nothing to do with it)

The Oracles turn and walk away: "It is not our place to grant life or death."

Angel: "And I ask you to take mine back. (The oracles stop walking and turn back to him) Look I can't protect her or anyone this way, not as a man."

Woman: "You're asking to be what you were, a demon with a soul, because of the Slayer?"

(they don't say shit about him needing to be a vampire to save her life or him being able to better protect her or him being able to avoid her death if he isn't human. He makes that assumption. And they are just mildly intrigued by the whole situation but they are not saying he's right)

Man turns to leave again: "Oh, this is a matter of love. It does not concern us."

Angel: "Yes, it does. The Mohra demon came to take a warrior from your cause - and it succeeded. I'm no good to you like this. I know you have it in your power to make this right. Please."

(they consider doing it after he let's them know that he will also be no good to the powers that way. But this is unrelated to Buffy and this is the thing that then makes them think of a way to do it. Because they realize him being a vampire is good for them. Not Buffy. Yes Buffy is his motivation but they just vaguely talk around it and never confirm to him that as a vampire he can save her life. He just wants to believe that because it fits into his martyr complex. And again. He can't actually save her as a vampire. )

So basically I hate angel in this episode and I hate that the episode frames all of his bullshit as romantic.

But thank you for the question anon. Ranting about angel is very cathartic for me.

#buffy #btvs #buffy the vampire slayer #buffy summers #angel the series #i will remember you #anti bangel

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mysticjupi · 3 years

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Umineko: When They Cry Review - Episode 0

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Part 0: Notes

This post can't be as aesthetic as I would like due to only having a phone; however I'll make do with what I have. Hello! Thank you for taking the time to read this; assuming you read my info on the header of my blog page, you should also know my dream is to be an author...and that takes me here, to Umineko and the WTC series in general. I finished reading the Umineko Visual Novel, and have watched the Higurashi Anime, and I plan to read the Manga for Higurashi soon.

The following posts will be about my thoughts, experience, and love for WTC, however this post 0 will be about WTC in general, along with miscallenous things.

Needless to say, SPOILERS!!!

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Part 1: When They Cry

My first experience with the series was years ago, when I was a child; and coming across some of the more gorey scenes from Higurashi on youtube, I was curious yet I never persued more of this media. Years went by and it remained nothing more than a afterthought in the back of my head, however, a friendgroup who was big into Higurashi made me watch the anime, and I decided on my own to read the Umineko novel, and since then...I've been very into the fandom for a few months.

I took two months to finish the Umineko VN...

And as you can tell, some days I read very generously. That being said however, it was all time well spent.

Ryukishi's writing has become an inspiration and something I think about greatly, his ability for creating and characterizing his characters in both dynamic and subtle ways has stuck out to me, as well as how he handles abuse and sensitive topics authors usually avoid delving into. This aspect will be discussed more when I get around to talking about characters.

However, the thing that sticks out the most to me is his...lessons. How he makes you think about mortality and the negative and positive aspects of people and their situations. Higurashi and Umineko identify and share their themes strongly, while leaving some leeway for the reader to think about it themselves. God knows I've been rethinking and pondering a lot of Umineko's plot.

Without Love, it cannot be seen. Is a new philosophy I have started to use, for example.

That's where much of my love for WTC comes from, and before you ask, I know nothing about Ciconia but I plan to read it once my technology situation is sorted.

I think that's enough for my introduction, and now you know where I stand on this series that's wiggled it's way into my heart.

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Part 2: Music

Before I discuss the Episodes of Umineko, I'd like to dedicate some to discuss one of my other favorite aspects of the Visual Novel, which is of course the amazing soundtrack that I cannot get enough of.

I never knew a Visual Novel about victorian ladies fucking with people would carry such a banger OST. I'll link some of my favorites:

Patchwork Chimera

Death From Stupefaction

Golden Sneer

Haze

Dream End Discharger

Deep Blue Jeer

The Girls Witch Hunt

Kina no Kaori

Reflection Call

Last End Conducter

I never realized how big of an impact music had on your enjoyment of a story, but Umi's soundtrack compliments scenes extremely well. There isn't much to say here but it's an extremely good listen and one of the major perks of the visual novel. Kudos to the various composers who worked on the soundtrack.

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Part 3: Artstyle and Design

The last thing I should have to say for this post, and of course this section will be talking about the original novel Artstyle, however the others will be mentioned.

Umineko's designs are stand-out and very unique yet remain alluring. This goes both for the hair and face of the characters and their outfits...

And of course, the fact many of the outfits are taken from actual goth fashion being displayed at around the time or Umineko's original releases. Some of my favorite examples:

Wonderful, I think. I can easily tell these characters from their silhouettes which always means good design. Somewhat unrelated but Ryukishi seemed to really enjoy thigh gaps when designing, (Chiester Sisters, Dlanor's Group, Seven Stakes...) and whatever you would consider Gaap's Gap. However this isn't a negative by any means. Most of the men's outfits are suits, however I can appreciate a formal and crisp style and at least everyone has their own suit aesthetic. Original Battler is the best style btw.

To make mention of the other Artstyles Umineko has...

Pachinko: It's...good? Some characters look better like Lambadelta or George but some were...proportioned oddly? Kyrie and her immensely inflated chest definitely put me off. I had the Pachinko sprites option during my read so I swapped between this and original depending on who was onscreen.

PS3 Remake: Very good and faithful rendition while also modernizing and streamlining designs, though it didn't quite capture the rawness of Ryukishi's expressions in the original Artstyle at times.

Manga: Amazing. The Umineko manga expressions are absolutely amazing. Raw, detailed, the anount of time spent on those illustrations is obvious, up there with the original style.

Anime: It's alright.

That said, the expressions of Umi are stunning, which makes sense considering how gritty and fucked up the story can be at times, nothing beats the little laugh that accompanies these expressions in the visual novel.

(Original Novel) Finally, while the backgrounds in the novel can be pretty simple, Ryukishi truly does his best with what he has and works with, and I think the simple backgrounds work well to not detract focus from the characters and text, however I wish he made the glass shatter screen transition a bit less abrupt?

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That covers everything I feel like I should discuss, next I'll be taking a retrospective look at Episode 1 of Umineko...Legend of the Golden Witch.

I think one or two posts a day covering a episode will be how I'll write the rest of this review, I hope you enjoy!

- Jupiter.

As some last notes, feel free to interact with me in dms or asks or anything! I'd love to discuss this story with anyone because hearing differing opinions or just bonding over media is one of my favorite things! I'd love to make friends

This of course is all opinion and not objective! I love seeing different views and all opinions are valid to me!

Have a nice day!

#umineko #when they cry #higurashi #beatrice the golden witch #erika furudo #lambadelta #visual novel #story review #novel review #ryukishi07 #07th expansion

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obiwanobi · 4 years

Note

Hey!! Just wanted to say that I love your blog so much, it literally makes me smile everytime that I see you’ve posted. Ngl, I get really invested in your AUs (they’re!!! all!!! so!!! amazing!!!) and if you don’t mind, I’d like to hear more about the dyad au ahah. On an unrelated side note, how do you feel about time travel?? Would you ever consider writing (headcanoning??) an AU with it??

Thank you so much! I’m always so happy to know that people like these AUs, they’ve become quite important to me now ♡ Just for you anon, I wrote a few more HCs about the dyad here!

And time travel fics are my guilty pleasure! I’m really picky about it but I still enjoy them greatly. I especially like time travel fics where both Anakin and Obi-wan are sent in the past or the future, so they still have a chance to fix their relationship, grow and mature together. I remember writing a post about it months ago, with Anakin/Vader struggling not to lose his mind after being sent back in clone wars times, I’ll try to find it for you!

I don’t know why, but I also greatly enjoy the idea of Obi-wan and Anakin sent back in time during TPM, just because I want Obi-wan seeing 9-year-old Anakin and saying “Look, this is when you were still adorable and said ‘yes Master’ unironically” and Anakin replying “I’m sorry, Master, I’m too busy petting these perfectly smooth cheeks and squeezing your adorable padawan’s face to hear you”

And then I want some angst, because Anakin takes the opportunity to spend time with Qui-gon and he keeps saying that he’s such a great Jedi and he’s so interesting and he understands the Force like no one else does, and of course it reinforces Obi-wan’s thought that Qui-gon would have been a better master for Anakin.

So Obi-wan, who missed Qui-gon and would love to spend any second he can get with him again, chooses to give them time together, lets Anakin have a chance to connect with his grandmaster. In the meantime, he can’t help but care for kid!Anakin who grows more and more attached to this older version of Obi-wan who already knows his favourite ice cream’s flavour when he never had some before and never loses patience with his endless questions. At one point, wanting to cheer him up, Anakin says to him “Don’t be sad about them Obi-wan, they can stay together, I’ll be your padawan!” and Obi-wan laughs, says “No young one, you’ll have a better master than me this time,” and happily accepts his hug while thinking that there is truly no universe in which he doesn’t love Anakin. (It’s been years since the last time Anakin hugged him, he thinks as the child squeezes his little arms around his neck, grumbling that he doesn’t want anyone else because obviously Obi-wan is the best, and Obi-wan realises that he has missed it)

Meanwhile, padawan!Obi-wan is getting more and more annoyed at Knight!Anakin for monopolising his Master’s attention and even more talks about the chosen one prophecy (and Skywalker gushing about how adorable he is doesn’t help, he’s really starting to dislike the guy), unsettled by his older counterpart being this calm and serene version of him that seems to only melt around kid!Anakin, and even a bit baffled that it could be his future padawan, like “you’re telling me this is your... my... our padawan. Him. The man with who you did a rock-paper-scissors to decide who was going to tell us that Master Qui-gon died in your timeline.” “Unfortunately,” Master Obi-wan says, “he’s going to be the centre of your world.” and Padawan!Obi-wan is like “Mmmh, I don’t want this”

#don't ask me when all of this is supposed to happen #idk I just want an older obi-wan with a 9yo Anakin in his arms #and maybe knight!anakin being a bit jealous because of course his past self instantly loves obi-wan #but apparently padawan!obi-wan doesn't like anakin?? it's not FAIR #he will NOT leave padawan!obi-wan alone before he likes him too force dammit #(padawan!obi-wan dislikes him even more)#fic i will never write #asks #anon #tpm time travel au

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blueheavensims · 2 years

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Check-in tag

I was tagged by @gphoenixsims.! Thank you kindly.

• Why did you choose your url?

So, way way back in the late ‘00s, I was still on Sim Trek 2 Boldy Go (RIP), and creating my first Sims 2 Story, Blue Heaven Sims. I wanted to extract a few of the Sims to share, and so I made a new home for them, originally a Blogspot blog called Blue Heaven Sims. It seemed appropriate, and as I created more, unrelated content and Sim Trek 2 was soon shuttered, I needed a home for it all. The name had what the kids these days call “brand recognition”, and since it wasn’t broke, I didn’t fix it. I created a tumblr account for personal stuff I think around 2014, but never used it (this is my primary) and created the secondary account to promote my work and that of other Sims 2 creators.

• How long have you been on tumblr?

Since August of 2018. I came to the party late. Right before the Tumblrpocalapyse, in fact.

• Do you have a queue tag?

No.

• Why did you start your blog in the first place?

More visibility. I try to keep an eye on which types of the content I create are popular, which get more downloads, and so on. Publishing updates on Sims Cave wasn’t really pulling in the new visits to my blogs, so decided to try this new site that all the kids were talking about.

• Why did you choose your icon/pfp?

It’s me chilling with Ophelia, my tortoiseshell goddess.

• Why did you choose your header?

I didn’t.

• What’s your post with the most notes?

I had to research it, because my memory’s a bit cloudy. It’s the Comfort Me Too posebox, with 148 notes. The note thing can be super deceptive, honestly. Typically, my original creations garner around 20-30 notes, whereas derivative content (bodyshape conversions of other creators’ outfits, reposes of janky poseboxes, etc.) tend to do much better. The vast majority of my content is niche, typically made for one specific genre of game (the Midnight at… series, Combate Moderno, Merrie Minstrels, Barbarians at the Gate, etc.) whereas the content that seems to be really popular is 4t2 clothing conversions and Maxis Match hair recolors where one creator’s post is almost indistinguishable from the next.

• How many mutuals do you have?

Probably fewer than I should, honestly. I have a few people who I engage with frequently and I care a great deal for; they know who they are.

• How many followers do you have?

600 and some change. Tumblr nerfed a bunch of bot and inactive followers recently, but I’m slowly approaching 650 again.

• How many people do you follow?

251. I only follow Sims 2 blogs.

• Have you ever made a shitpost?

No.

• How often do you use tumblr each day?

I check it a few times a day. I post content 2-4 times a week, and occasionally make reply posts, comment on friends’ posts or rant.

• Did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

A few. I have a reputation (deserved or not) of not putting up with anyone else’s bullshit. I had, not exactly a fight, but a disagreement with MDP a while ago. I don’t remember exactly what it was about. Probably not of very much consequence. There was the time I stood up for Nobe (devotedlyghostlyenemy) when someone called her a bunch of names for converting a teen crop top to for children. Yes, there are still people like that on tumblr.

I have a PM of telling Klira to pound sand after she PM’d me to ask me not to remake her janky poseboxes. I have the screenshot saved to my desktop.

I had a funny exchange with the “underwear anon” a few months back; I’m pretty sure that I got the better end of that one.

I’ve jumped into a couple of pissing matches about Patreon content creators for TS2 having their content redistributed and that Brazilian site that was redistributing free content, I had a few things to say during the discussion about Cindy/PleasantSims’ Discord, and I’ve called out a few people who were bullying other creators.

But Tumblr is the tip of the iceberg. I’ve been active in the community (not just tumblr) for 15 years now, and for better or worse I’ve interacted with a lot of people. For a complete history of me not putting up with other peoples’ bullshit, THIS post is worth reading (sorry; it hasn’t been updated with the latest crap about the Sims Crafters Discord yet: I’m working on it).

• How do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts?

The only correct answer is “No the fuck I don’t.”

• Do you like tag games?

Yeah. It depends on the tag game, really, but most of the time they’re fun and I’m happy when my friends tag me.

• Do you like ask games?

Yes. I don’t get a whole lot of asks, but I’m happy to respond when I receive them.

• Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I try not to compare my work to the “big names”; obviously they’ve been here longer, create more mainstream content, and have much more ample follower bases. Without access to the follower counts of every single mutual I have, I’d be hard-pressed to provide a response.

• Do you have a crush on a mutual?

I’m a boring old married person. I don’t have crushes.

Tagging: I think most of the folks I follow have already gone. Ummm… @nixedsims, @criminalmiik, @iamg-knee maybe? If it’s not your thing, I’ll happily fuck off.

#replies #smeg

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murdereraisuha · 3 years

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I wrote this for myself to try and organize my current theories on TWST, but I might as well keep this blog going even though I’m out of ideas for card maker memes.

This is basically a rant that starts out with theorizing about RSA, the Cater=Cinderella theory, and Split Card, but then spirals into a Cater character analysis.

For anyone who doesn’t know the Cinderella theory, it’s basically just Cater might have something to do with Cinderella because he has two bossy sisters, and during the ghost marriage there was this whole thing where Riddle needs to rescue Cater before midnight because of some Queen of Hearts rule.

Spoilers for Cater’s personal stories (including his halloween outfit story) and chat, and chapter 4 of the main story. Okay now let’s get into it. Over 1,800 words geez what am I doing with my life

Aight so Ace and Deuce don't have their unique magics yet and there is obviously Something going on with Cater so it really makes me think that we're gonna return to Heartslabyul somewhere down the line. We know there's gotta be more stuff with RSA, so that might tie into the Cater = Cinderella theory. Maybe we have a chapter focusing on RSA and Cater will be the main focus or ally for that. IDK man, I'm still kind of eh on the Cinderella theory cause it makes a lot of sense but we already have Mozus being the evil stepmother. Him and Cater are from the same hometown (?) but my concern is that if Cater is a main focus and he gets connected to Mozus then Mozus would also be in the spotlight which would be odd given how nothing seems to suggest that the teachers (except Crowley) getting bigger roles in the story. However, it could always be a situation like with Farena where Mozus is there and some sort of connection is briefly discussed but he isn't important and maybe someone else takes the role of evil stepmother in the story.

Ok idk so we're gonna go back to Cater. If the Cinderella theory is true, we gotta consider how exactly Cater represents Cinderella. Does he represent Cinderella in the way that he's twisted from her (ex. Azul & Ursula) or that he just takes the role of Cinderella for a chapter (ex. Azul & The Genie)? The fact that he uses dark magic points to it being the latter, that he really is twisted from a card soldier. However, we gotta consider 1. the nature of his unique magic 2. the plot of Cinderella. Though we know he has the ability to clone himself, we don't know how exactly this works. Are the clones identical, or do/can they have differences? In episode 1-15, the Cater clones all have slightly different responses ("はーい" "まかせて！" "おっけー♪") to getting ready to paint the roses. Given how clones don't exist in real life, it's impossible to tell whether this variation indicates actual differences in personality, is just due to the clones' slightly different experiences (like a sort of butterfly effect), or if it's just a decision by the writer so they aren't repetitive. Another thing to note is that in that same episode Cater claims that cloning himself is tiring. If this is the only source for this information, there's the possibility that it just was a lie to let him manipulate the 1st years into helping him paint. Finally, Cater's ability makes me think of Twice from BNHA. Can only the original Cater create clones? Or is he like Twice in that his clones can also make clones, therefore making it impossible for anyone, including himself, to tell who is the original?

What I'm getting at here is the possibility of Cater having clones that 1. stick around permanently and 2. are significantly different than him. This would create the possibility of him being twisted from both the card soldiers and Cinderella, but he is able to use his clone ability to split up those aspects of himself. One Cater is the card soldier one normally walking around NRC and who has dark magic, but then there's another Cinderella Cater who has light magic. Assuming this is what is going on, it would kind of connect to his two-sided personality, where he presents his bubbly, social-media addict personality to the world but has another, depressed, more private personality underneath.

Now, getting into what I mentioned before about the plot of Cinderella, Cinderella normally looks like a humble servant. However, with the aid of the fairy godmother, she completely transforms herself into a breathtaking princess so she can go to the ball. However, once the clock strikes midnight, she transforms back. Basically, Cinderella has the ability of transformation, to have two completely different versions of herself. One version is her true, plain self, while the other is a flashy deception. This information strengthens what I just said about Cater's personality and clone ability.

Actually, just going into Cater's personality for a bit (yeah, “a bit” lol)... He has a big focus on always being presentable. In his lab coat, he seems pretty desperate to hide all evidence of his true self, claiming that he just failed at putting his magic in the depressed mandrake and then hiding all his other mandrakes aside from the fun ones. This desperation is similar to Cinderella's, with how she flees the ball in a hurry once it reaches midnight so no one will see how she truly looks once the spell breaks. Now, why do Cater and Cinderella behave the way they do? I don't remember Cinderella's exact motivations for attending the ball, but wikipedia says that she had to flee the ball because if the spell broke there she could get caught by her stepmother & stepsisters. What is Cater's "ball"? Well, because of his strong social media presence, his "ball" is basically everywhere, all the time. If something happens on social media that exposes his true self, breaking his "spell", not only can other students see it, but his sisters can also see it.

Cater hates sucking up to his older sisters, which implies that he has had to suck up to his older sisters and put up his happy front around them too. Just like how Cinderella can't afford to let her stepsisters realize her true identity at the ball, Cater can't afford to let his sisters realize his true self. It's honestly kind of sad; unlike Cinderella, whose stepsisters only showed up later in her life, Cater's older sisters have been around him and making him miserable for all of his life.

Kinda unrelated, but looking though Cater's chats, in the one he has with Trey they talk about the Queen of Hearts and her love for sweets, Cater remarks that he wants to have tea with her too, leading Trey to say that Cater would be unable to befriend her since they're in different social classes. Isn't this basically a genderbent version of Cinderella, just a commoner, wanting to go to the ball where the Prince is?

Now going back to Cater's personality. Even if he does fear his sisters, that doesn't seem to fully explain his 24/7 pep and focus on being magicammable. Now, what if we say that happiness=nobility. In Cinderella, she dresses up like nobility so she can remain in the ball where the actually rich people are. What if Cater is acting happy so he can fit in with the people around him, who are naturally happy enough that they don't need to fake it? Is this a fake it until you make it situation? At the end of his ceremony robes story, after he says he's tired and doesn't care about the ceremony, he says he's just kidding and goes back to talking about the selfies he took that day. Even though he's alone and wouldn't really get hurt for dropping his performance. It gives the vibe to me that his situation is not like Jamil's, where he's fully aware he's unhappy, deliberately acts otherwise in front of others, and tries to eliminate the cause of his unhappiness. Instead, Cater is trying to eliminate his unhappiness itself. He grasps onto magicam because if he fills up his account with pictures of a happy life, it's like he's actually living a happy life.

This idea I have of Cater trying to fit in also goes along with his focus on the current trends, like in one of his gym uniform voice lines where he panics at the idea of not knowing about a new popular game. Rather than making his own aesthetics or trends, he goes along with the crowd. Sweets and desserts are trendy? Then he'll take tons of pictures of them and say they're super delicious even if he actually hates sweet food. He disregards or evades his own preferences to create the appearance that he's just like everyone else, and he puts effort into staying up to date so he can maintain that appearance.

Moving on, I reread his halloween outfit personal story. Something that stuck out was the end, when Cater thinks that Lilia wouldn't understand what he's going through. Specifically, Lilia wouldn't understand his 下らなくてどーしよーもない feelings. According to jisho, 下らない can mean trivial/not worth bothering with/worthless, and it can also mean stupid/absurd/silly. Then, どーしよーもない (どうしようもない) means something that can't be helped, that has no way out of it. Doesn't this seem kind of odd? That he claims his feelings are just trivial then but also he can't help having them? Is this a contradiction? Or is it something like he believes that most people wouldn't have these silly feelings but he specifically is too weak to push past them?

For self-esteem though, he seems to at least be trying to boost it. Like in his gym uniform story, when he decides to just clone himself and have each one run 1 lap instead of him running 5 by himself, his clones all praise him for the idea. However, this could be a fake it until you make it thing again. The praise does seem a bit heavy-handed.

There's also the whole thing in the 2nd part of the story where he talks about all the shallow friendships he has made. He notes that he'd rather have a casual time with people rather than get attached. That plus his family situation... means he's really never had anyone to trust. Anyway, he then goes on to talk about how magicame is amazing for helping him maintain all these casual friendships. So there we have another reason for his social media addiction: not only does it let him create a picture of happiness, he can get tons of feedback affirming his happiness and serving as proof of happiness. How can he possibly be lonely if he has so many friends?

Both in his ceremony robes and halloween outfit stories have a moment where Cater is tired and admits he's tired but then downplays it. Yeah, the ceremony was tiring, but he got tons of great pictures out of it! Yeah, dealing with guests was rough, but at the same time all the halloween stuff was exciting! This sort of thing is a pretty common strategy for increasing the persuasiveness of an argument. By first agreeing (yes, he's tired) with the opposing view (he is not happy), he can then push his own view (he is happy) and point at his earlier concession as proof that he has looked at both sides of the issue instead of only looking for evidence of his own belief.

So basically what I'm getting here is that Cater Is Not Okay. Prevented from building close bonds with friends or family, he's reinforcing his isolation himself through his fervent efforts to never let anyone close and never let his mask drop. He's gone so far as to try and convince himself that he's happier than he actually is through self-deception and social media.

Alright that’s all I got for now see ya

#twst analysis #twisted wonderland #cater diamond #twst

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bluejohsai · 3 years

Text

whiskers — kuroo tetsurou (au).

it’s been a while and i managed to push through with posting a short scenario for this blog. i know i haven’t been active in this blog at all and it will stay that way if there are no requests flying here. i am currently accepting requests for haikyuu and attack on titan (bc i indulged in it for quite a while now). with that aside, happy reading !!

summary : kuroo finds himself in a strange predicament and inevitably bumps into his crush. inspired by ‘a whisker away’.

Kuroo Tetsurou had enough of his life.

Everything was just in shambles the moment his mother screamed at his father, demanding a divorce. And with divorce comes the argument of which parent will take the responsibility of caring for the child. In the end, Kuroo's mother won, making him pack his bags and leave his father behind to live in his mother's house in Tokyo, along with the man that his mother chose to remarry. Living under his mother's care was perfectly fine; she wasn't in the house often because of her work and his mother's new husband tends to be fussing over him any chance he gets, but Kuroo chose to brush all of them with a practiced smile.

In the summer of Kuroo's second year in high school, the dark-haired boy received a message from his father. He was lounging in his makeshift study area in the bottom part of his bunk bed, reading a book that Kenma really enjoyed (it was filled with games though, probably the reason why the first-year liked it so much), when his phone vibrated on top of the coffee table he pushed at the front of his study area. Not having any enthusiasm at the prospect of talking to people, Kuroo sluggishly sat up and opened his phone, displaying his lock screen of the sky and the message from his father. With bored eyes from behind his long fringe, Kuroo tried reading the message without any attachment since it was only once upon a time that he was close with his father.

Father:

Hey, Tetsurou, I'm here right now in Tokyo. The summer festival is still ongoing so why don't we attend the highlights, I have something to talk to you about.

Narrowing his eyes at the glare of his gadget, Kuroo stared pensively at the screen of his phone. Festivals meant reliving those joyous moments he had with his father when he was young; catching goldfishes, buying masks and scaring his mother with the designs of their face accessories, and watching the highlights of the festival, which is the fireworks display. It also meant reliving that time when his father left him intentionally during a crowded summer festival. That event in his life spurred the divorce because as his mother told him, his father is one deadbeat and selfish kind of man. But his father wasn't like that. Kuroo remembered pleading to his mother to forgive the older man but it was all in vain. She still screamed in their dining room to nullify their marriage.

Tetsurou:

OK.

That was it. No residue of the playful nature he always had with his father, as it should be all those years.

Having a few minutes of silence and staring at the bottom of his bunk bed, Kuroo took a deep breath as he ran his fingers through his hair, messing it up even more. Slowly sitting up, the dark-haired boy crawled out of his cozy hideout and stretched his limbs, because lying down and rolling on the carpeted floor definitely made him stiff. Walking towards his closet while taking off his shirt, Kuroo reached out for the red sleeveless hoodie hanging from behind his volleyball club tracksuit, quickly fitting it on him and choosing to leave his basketball shorts on. With his phone and wallet in hand, the tall lad walked down the stairs and opened the door to the living room and dining area.

Peeking his head inside a small crack of the door, Kuroo lazily scanned the area. "Ah, Hikaru-san," he called out, catching the attention of a tall man with soft brown hair and glasses from behind the counter of their kitchen. He was apparently preparing for dinner, which looked like fried chicken. "I'm going out for a bit. Tell Mom that I could be going home late tonight."

The man named Hikaru gently smiled at Kuroo as he washed his hands. "I heard tonight's the summer festival's highlights," he noted, wiping his hand on one of the clean towels by the refrigerator. "Are you going with your friend, Kenma, is it? Or your classmates, Yaku and Kai."

Kuroo shook his head. "Dad invited me."

He swore he could hear a pin drop from the awkward silence ensuing inside the room. This silence is one that he greatly distastes, and this is coming from a child who succumbed to a bout of silence once he moved to Tokyo. There was no question of how Hikaru wanted to be acknowledged as Kuroo's new father and the competition on who deserves to be a better father to Kuroo is brewing between the two males that became a part of his mother's life. Kuroo could see that Hikaru was doing his best but the messy-haired boy never really viewed him as a family even after years of being married to his mom, his dismissive behavior when it comes to Hikaru is masked with cheery remarks and loud rounds of laughter. And that's what he chose to do right now.

The tall lad laughed once again, trying to ease any tension in the air. "I'm thinking of bringing home a box of takoyaki. Do you want anything, Hikaru-san?"

Hikaru composed himself and sheepishly looked down to continue with his current task. "You don't have to buy me anything, Tetsurou." The brown-haired man glanced at Kuroo with a fatherly air. "Are you joining us for dinner later?"

Kuroo paused for a few moments, pretending to think upon the offer before shaking his head an easygoing smile. "Nope," he lightheartedly answered Hikaru. "I'll be off now!"

When Kuroo's footsteps echoed through the empty household, followed by the sound of the front door closing, Hikaru deeply sighed as he planted both hands on the counter. His dejected frame was noticed by his pet cat, Hanako, who mewled in concern as she approached her owner. Realizing his eyes pooling with unshed tears, Hikaru quickly took his glasses from the bridge of his nose and wiped his eyes with his wrist, his forced laughter coming out huskily.

"I'm trying my best, Hanako, but why isn't it enough?"

Summer festivals in Tokyo always bring forth a chorus of laughter and the comfortable mellow lantern lights. There was a subtle beat of the taiko drums in the background, drowned out by the endless chatters of the people choosing to roam around during the highlights of the festivals. The streets of the enormous plaza in their area were arranged to have a line of stalls awaiting for customers, and one of them held a special place in Kuroo's childlike heart ー goldfish scooping. Here he was, crouched down in front of the small tub designated for the goldfishes, his hand poised right above him while his eyes never strayed from that fish who appeared to be brighter than anyone else in the shallow water. Right when he was about to catch the fish, his little net tilted and doubled over the water, scaring away the fishes from any human contact.

"Better luck next time, boy," the stall owner told him reassuringly but the messy-haired boy wasn't reassured at all.

Kuroo stood up brashly from his seated position, surprising the people around the little stall, and walked away with his hands inside the pockets of his sleeveless jacket. There was a hasty apology coming from behind him, along with hurried footsteps of the very person he doesn't want to interact with at the moment. Kuroo continued walking, mumbling apologies to the people he bumped on the way, until a firm grip wrapped around his arm, making him roll his eyes in annoyance.

"What?" he asked the person desperately trying to catch his attention, the expression on the younger boy was hiding the fact that he was hurting because of this meeting.

"Tetsurou," Kuroo Tatsunari, his father stood in front of him, face so distraught that he nearly broke his practiced façade. "You can live with me instead of your mother, that way everyone will be happy. Please, Tetsurou, I already asked my landlord to have my apartment renovated to have your room."

Kuroo was baffled for a moment and he couldn't help but scoff in disbelief at what his father said. After shaking his head, his golden eyes trailed from the face he was starting to see in the mirror (except for the unruly hair he seemed to claim since he was young) to the hand still gripping tightly on his arm, as if asking for him to never leave the owner's side. He had enough of all of this and all he wanted was to cry his heart out and scream all his hidden thoughts to a barren meadow, but all he could do was place his hand on his father's, gently taking away the grip that kept him rooted on the ground for so many years.

With unrelenting eyes, he muttered darkly, "Have you ever wondered what would make me happy?" before turning away and running to who knows where this late at night.

"Tetsurou!"

He did what he always did best ー running away from his problems.

The young boy did this when he was in the middle of his parents' fights when he was just a little boy and he brought it with him until he was in primary school, where his mother took him under her wing all the way to Tokyo. He nearly ran away when Kenma came into his life, the prospect of having friends and interacting with other children his age so dreadful to the boy that he didn't speak until Kenma asked him what games to play, thus, spurring the two to start volleyball. He nearly ran away when middle school and high school came, the latter made his anxiety rise much higher than the previous point in his life. But this was all erased when many of his high school classmates approached him out of nowhere, clinging onto him and confessing left and right, something that he was not proud of.

The messy-haired boy slowed down his pace to a walk, tears bleeding through his vision and blending in with the drops of rain pattering down on him. "I hate this," he muttered, making measured footsteps on the cobblestones, not noticing that his surroundings seem to transition into a shrine. "I hate the world. I hate myself. I wish I would just end this miserable life right away." Just then, a strong odor of tobacco wafted through his senses, making him perk up in wariness.

In front of him was a huge man dressed in an elaborate yukata, casually smoking on a fancy pipe that Kuroo thought was a relic based on its golden sheen that illuminated under the shrine's overhead lanterns. Feeling skeptical at his current situation, Kuroo slightly took a step back with his eyes still set on the man sitting with a mask stall beside him. His heartbeat picked up its pace because of the nerves starting to churn in his stomach but the dark-haired boy still glanced at the number of masks plastered on the stall and oddly enough, all he could see were cats instead of the variety of animals that were displayed in some of the festival stalls down the hill.

"Welcome," the unnamed man said in a raspy and deep voice, his big, slitted yellow eyes glancing over at Kuroo. "Do you want to try one on? It is said to erase all your worries the moment your face touches the mask."

Erase all your worries?

Kuroo gulped before opening his mouth to speak, "How much is one?"

That offer tempted him and based on the man's appearance, he wasn't a scammer that would run away with his money. There was something from the man's voice that compelled him to try just one mask to see if what he said is true because he definitely needed an escape from reality right about now.

The man chuckled ominously. "No need to pay, young man."

The messy-haired boy furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "Is this because your offer is a hoax?"

At this, the unnamed man's chuckles became a full-on laugh. Laughter of scrutiny thrown at him, making Kuroo squirm in his perch. "There wasn't anything about a hoax in what I said, kid. Here," the man reached out from behind him and picked out a black cat mask, throwing it at Kuroo, who leaned forward to catch the object, "try it on."

Kuroo flipped the mask. The front was so detailed that it almost looked real, the paint on the mask's nose seemed to glint with the wetness of a real cat's and even the whiskers protruded on either side of it. The ears also captured his attention ー there were fur inside each one and it even depicted the real colors on what you can see on a cat. The back wasn't much with its embellished white appearance but when Kuroo slowly lifted the mask to try it on, it snuggly fit the shape of his face, sending chills down his spine. It was like the mask was made for him. But his admiring came to a halt when an invisible wall slammed on him, making him lose his balance.

The next moment was so bizarre to Kuroo. At first, everything was normal to him and the next, all objects loomed over his figure like skyscrapers. But when he blinked at the green color invading his optics, his vision seems to sharpen, even more, zeroing on where the man was previously seated and only finding no sign of the unnamed person. His chest tightened with anxiety, jumping at the slightest of sound picked up by his hearing. With shaky legs, Kuroo walked on the pathway with the sole purpose of going home and just wrapping himself in his duvet, praying that the next day will be much kinder to him. Upon passing by a vending machine right at the base of the shrine, his golden eyes widened when his reflection showed a black cat instead of his tall physique.

What is happening?

"What in the world?" Kuroo voiced out but instead of his usual timber, a series of meows ricocheted through the empty shrine. He jumped two feet in the air in surprise, spooked that even the black cat in the vending machine's reflection showed rod-like fur. After a few moments, he slowly walked towards the reflection, both curious and unnerved at what he just witnessed. "How?"

Placing a paw on the glassy surface, Kuroo roamed his eyes over his new body. He wasn't even surprised that the cat he donned has black fur and a small tuff of hair covering a portion of his right eye. Gradually, the boy's parted lips turned into a large smile as he whooped in the air while jumping around. It was cute in a human's perspective ー a little black cat hopping from cobblestone to cobblestone, his little meows twinkling in the night breeze. In all honesty, Kuroo felt so alive to leave his human life behind and the only thought lingering in his head is how much he wanted to be a cat his whole life ー lazing around and looking for different homes all day, no room for homework and the constant argument of familial connections. For an entire hour, Kuroo marveled at the world from a different perspective as he never stopped swaying happily down the path.

Until a familiar scent hit him ー watermelon.

And true enough, there on one of the benches was [Last Name][Name], who was looking blankly at the park in front of her with a half-finished bottle of banana milk loosely held in her hands. It looked like she came from one of her college prep classes based on what she was wearing — a beige turtleneck sweater and a tawny pencil skirt covered by a trench coat. Her hair was the same hairstyle Kuroo always liked on her, a loose braid running down on one of her shoulders, with her fringe carefully framing her ethereal face. It was no surprise to everyone how much he likes the girl and it shows how he gawked at her with round, golden eyes.

She looked at the side and when her gaze found him, Kuroo visibly jumped in shock again. The girl rose her eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the adorable black cat pausing a few feet from her. Kuroo watched [Name] open her backpack and mumbling things under her breath as she searched for something in her bag. Brightening when she finally found what she was looking for, the black cat curiously watched as [Name] waved a pack of biscuits in the air and beckoned him towards her.

"I have some snacks, kitty," she told him, which strangely compelled him to come closer. Who doesn't? The girl he absolutely adores called him 'kitty' with that beautiful smile, of course, he would follow her. When he stopped by her shoes, she then lowered her voice, "Is it alright if I pick you up?"

Kuroo meowed in approval, which [Name] happily took as a good response since she carefully picked him up and placed him on her lap. She then softly ran her fingers on his head, making him purr in contentment. Before nibbling on a biscuit, Kuroo enjoyed the warmth [Name] emitted, looking up at her with his pupils blown wide, which is a sign of his fascination with the girl.

"The night is beautiful ー it's like everything disappeared," she pensively voiced out, her eyes softly staring at the black cat on her lap. "I need more moments like these. People want me to do things that they want, not knowing how much I wanted to be free when I step out in the real world. I mean, I'm going to be eighteen soon and it's a sign that my dad should stop placing shackles that makes me want to cry. I don't even want to be a doctor." She pursed her lips as she paused for a bit as she muttered, "It's so suffocating." The girl then felt paws on her shoulder, making her look up at the adorable black cat, which was a few inches from her face. Then, she felt the tiniest kiss on her cheek, something that elicited a giggle from her. "That tickles."

Raising her hand from her lap, [Name] wrapped them around the cat's body, lifting him a little higher and placing him on her shoulder.

"You smell like lavender," she whispered. "I love it."

Through the night, the boy trapped inside the black cat's body heard his heart pound in his chest, his adoration for the girl blossoming like the fireworks lighting the park.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu kuroo #i am in love with this movie uwu #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

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