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#I strongly doubt anyone else will be interested
sillylittlevulpine · 1 year
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yandere-sins · 1 year
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Happy Valentine’s, my Love
a/n: Happy Valentine’s guys! I hope you have a lovely day, regardless of the purpose of the holiday or if you’re celebrating it. Remember that if there’s nothing else to love, we can still love Yandere (;
Warning: Yandere, Detailed Violence/Gore, Long Post, Abuse mention
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Valentine's Day has never been your favorite celebration of the year.
When you were single, it showed you just how alone you were as you passed by happy, kissing couples on the streets. Halloween, Christmas, and birthdays—those were all festivities shared with family and friends, so you enjoyed them as long as they kept your mind off things. When you finally got your first boyfriend, you thought that for sure, Valentine's would be enjoyable from now on too. 
But you were wrong.
You loved him. You would have sworn to anyone doubting you that you loved that cruel bastard of a man who didn't care about your poor, desperate heart, pleading to be loved by him. Being with him broke you, and latest when Valentine's Day came around, and he decided to go out with his friends rather than stay with you, you realized he didn't feel as strongly about you as you did about him. Leaving him was the best and worst decision of your whole life. Best, because you knew you'd be able to move on, find someone to appreciate you. Someone normal, someone kind.
Worst because that scumbag wouldn't let you leave him so easily.
There was no detail you spared your boyfriend when you told him about your ex. You showed him the scars, the panic in your eyes, the restraining order, and every police report that came after. You wanted him to know. Everything. Without knowing your past, you couldn't imagine a future for you two. Though it may have been early in your relationship, you needed to know if there would be another lonely or, perhaps, a warm Valentine's Day awaiting you with this man you decided to trust. You finally had your answer when he held you as you cried, rubbed your back, and comforted you. He was the right one. He was kind and he was normal, accepting and understanding of everything about you.
So, how could it be that on Valentine's Day, you heaved yet another long sigh as you lowered your phone, still no reply from your boyfriend about when he was going to be home? There was no excuse like 'working late' or 'stopping to get dinner' when he had been off for the last five hours, and you had already cooked and set the table. Nothing could have been more important on a Tuesday evening than to get home to his beloved partner waiting for him. You couldn't think of any other excuses to make except for…
He forgot.
Maybe you were being childish. Disillusioned by TV and social media, romance books and games, that someone could actually exist who'd care. Care about you, your feelings, and this stupid couple's holiday. You didn't need someone who'd take you out on a unique, fancy date just because capitalism forced him to. You didn't even want presents or your partner being overly excited about a home-cooked meal and some sexy lingerie for dessert. Honestly, you two could have celebrated on any given day that you were in love and happy with each other. You just wanted someone to care. 
There were a hundred things you could think of that you two could be doing, even if some made you slightly less comfortable than others. Your boyfriend had some interesting hobbies, like taking you out to the woods for a weekend, a secret cabin where it would only be you two and his camera that would constantly go off to capture pictures of you. He liked to practice tying knots and bought you two all kinds of sensual toys, including blindfolds and gags. Occasionally, you enjoyed the new activities too. Still, you felt like you'd never enjoy them quite as much as your boyfriend did, no matter how much fun you had. It made him happy first and foremost, so you tried to indulge him, knowing he would do the same for you. If anything, he had always been exactly what you wanted—kind, caring, affectionate, and a great cook. The bar wasn't high after what your ex did, but your boyfriend lifted it higher than you ever thought he could. 
Which was why it was so strange he forgot this day, despite it being so important on your healing journey.
He usually was the one to always remember important dates or where you put your things whenever you happened to be forgetful. He took care of you when you were sick, saying things like, "I will always make sure you're happy and loved, Darling." His attitude and efforts made you look the other way whenever he asked you to pose for his camera or trust him when he booked another weird place for a weekend trip. You didn't enjoy these things as much as he did, but knowing he's been doing them since childhood, you couldn't deny him that little bit of freedom when he changed his life to accommodate you in return. 
You wanted to be angry about him not showing up, knowing it meant the world to you, but if you were honest, you were just disappointed. Maybe you had put too many of your problems onto him. Perhaps he was tired of taking care of you all the time. Maybe this wasn't the right relationship either, no matter how much you wanted it to be. Mistakes were made before, and this could have been one of them.
Your train of thought was harshly interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, your head snapping around as you stared at your boyfriend wide-eyed and surprised as he giddily stepped inside, holding multiple bags of renowned stores you liked to shop in, grinning like he always did when seeing you. 
"Sorry for not replying earlier! I was preoccupied."
Pushing off his shoes and hanging up his coat, he spoke nonchalantly as if your inner tumult didn't face him. Which, to be fair, you didn't even know if he was aware of. The bags in his hand were clearly apology gifts that he could shove wherever. Now you did feel angry, but when your boyfriend finally stepped into the kitchen, lifting his nose in the air and humming blissfully, you almost felt bad, seeing how innocent he looked, unaware of your anger. 
"I wish I could have gotten back earlier, but I needed to take care of something," he called out from the kitchen sink, rinsing his hands dutifully. He was a bit of a goofball, wiping his wet hands on his shirt before sliding over to you on his socks, grinning from ear to ear as he met your gaze. You loved his playful ways, the tenderness of always searching for your no matter what. It was either eye contact or holding hands in public; your boyfriend never too shy to show you were with him. 
"I know what you're thinking, but I didn't forget," he chuckled, scratching his cheek nervously after he noticed your furrowed brows. Moving around the couch you were sitting on, he took a seat right next to you, knees touching as he reached for your hand that you didn't pull away, even if just to see what he'd do. "I just wanted to make this the most special Valentine's ever."
Glancing at his fingers, your eyes got stuck at the red paint around the rim of where his nails met his skin, and you raised an eyebrow, replying, "Okay…?" 
Did he make you a card? Painted a picture? Maybe he decorated a cake… You wanted to be pessimistic, given how he had already wasted most of the day being tardy. However, the promise of him actually going through the trouble of making you something from scratch was already more effort than you could have expected from him. 
"Every day, you make me so happy," your boyfriend started, a doe-eyed look on his face as he gently massaged your hand, bringing it up to his lips to kiss it reverently, his breath tingling against your skin. "Allowing me to love you is the greatest gift you could have ever made me. Just waking up every morning knowing I have you to cherish gives me the strength to overcome any hurdle in my life. I only need food, water, and you to survive my days with no regrets and no ill feelings. That's how much you changed me."
 Planting some more kisses on the back of your hand, your boyfriend looked back up at you, grinning one of his beautiful, sunny smiles that you loved so much, his dimples making him look like he was out of a movie rather than the man you called your boyfriend. Hearing his confession made your anger evaporate, tears brimming your eyes that he quickly wiped away with his thumb. "Don't cry yet, I'm not finished, and you know I can't hold back when you cry."
You both laughed off the awkwardness and the stuffy noses as you took some deep breaths, gathering your composure as best as possible. "I wouldn't want to miss you ever," he sighed blissfully, his gaze piercing right into your soul, laying the words there like bandages around your scarred heart. "You're my light, and I love you more than humanly possible. I want that, exactly this here, right now, forever."
Pulling his hand away from caressing your cheek, he fumbled with the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a little red box shaped like a heart. Your breath hitched as you put your hand over your mouth to not let it hang wide open, surprised as your boyfriend opened the lid to reveal a beautiful ring that undoubtedly would have your size. "Will you do me the honor of marrying me?" he asked, fingertips brushing over the velvet outline of the ring box nervously. And you…
Hesitated. 
A part of you wanted nothing more than to say yes, throw your arms around him, kiss him, let him put the ring on your finger, and call you by his last name. But then the thoughts you had before your boyfriend came home returned to your mind, and suddenly, doubts flooded you. You always thought he was the one to make you happy. The one to start a family with even. You were okay with his strange obsession with his hobbies, and he did his best to support you and make you feel loved daily. Why did you doubt him just because he was a little late on Valentine's Day? It was such a silly idea after the heartfelt confession he just made, wanting you to know all the ways he felt about you. 
Strangely enough, your eyes fell to his fingernails again, the red rims and dirt under the nail. Your boyfriend was very careful about his looks. It was strange that he didn't take the time to make himself look prim and proper for something as important as a proposal. He always obsessed about looking presentable to you whenever he was out with you. Even when he swore you were beautiful no matter what, he always put in the extra effort for himself. 
"I…" you mumbled, your sentence coming to a choked stop as if invisible hands were trying to stop you from speaking and squeezing the air out of your lungs. The sparkle in your boyfriend's eyes faded as he noticed your hesitation, an expression of hurt crossing over his face even though he tried to hide it behind a smile. 
"I'm sorry, was that too rash? I mean, we never discussed it. I just thought today would be a good day, and… Wow, I… This is awkward." 
Putting the ring away, he scratched the back of his head, turning from you. You wanted to reach out, console him, tell him he didn't do anything wrong, but as you watched his expression turn from hurt to bitter, you instead hugged your own body, leaning away from him. Next you knew, he was up, pacing back and forth behind the couch, muttering mixes of justifications and excuses.
"You said yes to your ex. I thought I could erase the Valentine's trauma if I did the same. I don't really know why I thought you'd say yes... We're still in our early stages, right? Gosh, I'm dumb sometimes! Just ignore I asked. It made sense to me when I saw the ring and thought of you, but I should have consulted you beforehand. It's not even that pretty. It's not good enough for you. You deserve a better ring, bigger and a lot more expensive than this little thing. They said it's a real diamond, but I'm not so sure. Am I making it worse? Please say no, this is already too embarrassing! We can't tell anyone I was so stupid to think you'd want to marry me."
Suddenly, your boyfriend stopped, looking at you. His breathing seemed to halt as he stared into your eyes with an unnerving, emotionless gaze. "You love me, though, right?"
Blinking at him, you couldn't quite follow his tirade of sentences, but you gave a slow nod, his expression changing instantly. "Phew! Lucky me! Here I thought I ruined it." The tension that had stopped him in his tracks flowed out of him, muscles relaxing, lips curling back into a smile. 
Coming back to the couch, he took his place next to you, reaching for your hand to take into his, resting it on top of his thigh. For a moment, he stayed like this, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of your hand as he smiled upon it thoughtfully. "This was a mistake, but I wouldn't be able to bear it if you'd hate me now. Can you tell me why it's a no?"
Looking up at you, you couldn't help but avert your gaze after catching his, seeing his kindness and patience that swirled with his love for you in it. He was always like that, understanding and accepting no matter what you did. How could you possibly confess to him that it was because you had a bad feeling about how he acted on Valentine's Day? That would make you look like an absolute idiot, wouldn't it? Rejecting him for being late?
"It's just… a little too early," you stammered, making apparent excuses. Eleven months may have been a bit quick, but you two had a lovely relationship so far. "I see…" he mumbled. His head fell back as he let out a loud laugh, squeezing your hand tightly as if he feared losing his hold. "And here I thought it was because of your ex."
"Why do you keep bringing him up?" you asked, a ping of irritation going through you at the constant reminder. 
"Well, you brought up marriage much earlier with him, but you never talked about it with me."
Odd, you thought, not remembering giving him that detail. You were sure you mentioned you thought your ex was the one you'd marry, but this seemed like a knowledge that you didn't think you told him about.
"I… maybe?" you mumbled, unsure if this had actually happened since you avoided letting your memories resurface. 
"Yeah, so I thought maybe I wasn't good enough for you. Maybe you still like your ex more than me. That's why you never brought up marriage. Don't tell me you actually still feel for that bastard?"
His words were throat-cutting sharp as he spit them out, his eyes fixating tensely on you as if to warn you not to say the wrong thing. "Of course not…" you mumbled, appalled at your boyfriend's thoughts. "You know I'm with you now. I rarely ever think of that guy…"
"Good… good," he mumbled, features softening as he looked forward, brushing his thumb over your hand again as he stared into nothingness thoughtfully. "It would be hard to piece him together again if you changed your mind."
"What?" you mumbled, cocking your head and furrowing your brows, waiting for your boyfriend to explain what he meant with his strange choice of words. 
Sitting up straight, your boyfriend stopped tracing over the back of your hand, taking a deep breath instead. Rolling his head to face you, he forced a smile on his lips, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Somehow, I knew," he sighed, a hint of regret decorating his features. "I knew you wouldn't say yes."
"I couldn't pinpoint it. It was just a feeling I had as I drove home today. It got me thinking of reasons why you would reject my proposal. I kept driving up and down the street, too nervous to just come in and ask you; that's why I was so late. Because at one turn, I ended up on your ex's street, passing by his house, and I stopped the car. I felt like it was his fault that you'd reject me, and I looked through his window, and there he was, cuddling with some girl that didn't look like you at all. Probably a whore. That's the best that scumbag can do."
He spat the last two sentences as if they disgusted him on your behalf. As if he was angry, your ex wasn't at least miserable about losing you. It seemed sweet, but your boyfriend's actions were scaring you more and more, especially when you tried to pull back your hand, his fingers clutching around your wrist tightly as he kept you right where you were, not giving you a chance to back away until you relented, letting him continue to brush his thumb back and forth over it.
"I knew I couldn't just leave him like that. He hurt you. He hurt you badly, and I wanted him to suffer. I rang the bell, waiting for him to open, but he let the slut get the door for him, that lazy piece of shit. So I wrapped my arm around her neck, pulled her to the kitchen, and slit her throat right in front of his face. And can you believe it? He cried. Like a little baby, as the bitch bled out."
Your blood ran cold as he spun his gruesome tale. You were even more inclined to get away from him as his expression filled with a mix of indifference and hatred. However, he turned towards you, reaching for your arm and pulling you closer to him, no matter how hard he had to jank until you fell into his arms. "I thought about you," he mumbled, eyes shifting back to the affectionate spark you loved being looked at with normally. He smiled as he caressed your skin, full of goosebumps. "I only thought of you as I rammed the knife into his back over and over, not giving him an easy way out while he cried and pleaded for me to stop. But I didn't. Not until he collapsed, gurgling. That's when I decided it would be the best gift for you, and I hope you'll like it."
Finally, your boyfriend took his hands away, fluttering touches turning into nothingness as he got up. He was eerily calm, not chipper like usual, and not bothered by what he just told you. He stepped around the couch, touching your shoulder as he passed you by, chuckling to himself about the good thing he did while you tried to comprehend the shock you were feeling, disgust and panic not yet having set in. 
"I got you other presents too, but nothing as good as this one," he explained, and you heard the bags rustling behind your back, sending another shiver down your spine. How ironic, you thought, realizing he did make you something homemade for Valentine's. It made a splashing sound as he pulled it out of the bag, and it explained the red stains on his fingers, but it was neither a card, a picture, nor a cake. 
You opened your mouth to scream as your boyfriend slipped the severed head of your ex wrapped in multiple layers of saran wrap into your lap, an anguished expression of pain forever chiseled into the features of the man you once loved. He had never been a good lover to you, but you were pretty sure he didn't deserve this. 
Before a single, horrified scream could rip out of your throat, your boyfriend's hand came down to rest over your mouth, pressing around your lips so nothing but muffled sounds could escape you. "I took care of it. No need to get upset now, Babe," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. "He can never hurt you again, and when we do decide to marry, no one will be in our way," he assured you. 
And you believed him.
"Because if anyone else tries, I'll take care of them too," he added, and you could hear the smirk on his lips, an expression so mad you didn't even want to see it crossing his face.
"I won't let anyone come between you and me. Not now, and not ever, Baby. Happy Valentine's Day, my Love."
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taking-thyme · 2 years
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Lesser-known signs that you may be Arospec
This applies to all Arospec identities like Demiromantic, Cupioromantic, Lithromantic, etc... I tried to include as many as possible
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You might want a romantic relationship but know you couldn’t be truly happy in one
You strongly identify with terms like Spinster, Bachelor or characters who notably do not have love interests. The idea of living as a spinster/bachelor and not having romantic connections appeals to you
You still want to be desired but in a distinctly non-romantic way, such as in an unrequited or platonic scenario 
You find yourself primarily attracted to those you cannot have, like fictional characters
You have had crushes, but they fade away as soon as it is reciprocated or even just with time. All romantic feelings leave you and you suddenly find yourself totally uninterested and uncomfortable
You have tried romance before, especially multiple times, but it never seems to be for you, even for multiple different reasons
Romantic tropes that turn everyone else on upset or confuse you, such as protectiveness, possessiveness and yandere dynamics
You just plain don't see the appeal of romance
Aspects of romance in general freak you out, such as kissing
You walk out or feel extreme discomfort during romantic scenes in movies
You don’t understand how anyone has the time to date, or other do things like thinking that your peers are all too young to think about dating, when really, it’s just you
You have been interested in others choosing your romantic partner for you, such as in matchmaking or arranged marriage, because you have a hard time choosing someone that you are attracted to yourself. It seems easier to have a trusted companion choose your partner because you don’t feel that way towards anyone in particular on your own
You have romantic feelings but are completely fine with not acting on them
You find it extremely easy to get over crushes. When someone you had a crush on rejects you, you’re like “oh okay” and just start not feeling that way towards them, like you just turned your attraction towards them off 
You’d be “fine” with romance and go along with it, but do not have any desire to do it yourself
You want relationship perks without the attraction
You like romance in theory, but not in practice
You constantly doubt yourself in relationships in a way that is not directly or obviously linked to insecurity or something else
You don’t know why people spend so much money on weddings, despite knowing that they’re in love
You’re incredibly cynical about romance for no apparent reason (that is not immediately trauma-related or anything)
Romantic stories and gossip are unappealing, boring or upsetting
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blingblong55 · 8 months
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Still beating- 141 + König
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Based on a request:
Hi, I love the way you write :3 Can I make a distress call? Where you like each other but nobody takes action, so when you decide to confess you find him with someone else, basically him tired of waiting and moving on? I know it's sad but I love anguish 🥹 Please if you can include 141 + König
GN!Reader, angst, soldier!reader
Honey, my heart still beats for you Even though you don't feel it
It all started as a simple crush, feelings were mutual, conversations always hinting at more, and then the crashing down when you saw him with some other soldier. After so much time contemplating if it was good or not to tell him how you felt, you finally got the courage. You waited for him, his usual training would end around 7 p.m., so it made sense to just walk around and pretend to bump into him. That is until you saw him and another soldier. How he was flirting with them and making them blush.
Gaz:
His feelings for you developed after he and you had some rather funny conversations over comms during a mission. He liked how you can joke about anything, and found humour with you.
There were times when he made advances and did his best to let you know he had feelings towards you without saying or doing something that would jeopardise your friendship.
After months of making slow but in a way meaningful advances, he gave up. You weren't catching up to what he was meaning to say and just quit because he thought you didn't feel the same way and that's why you never did anything to better a future romance with him.
The second you saw him, it was like all that energy was drained. Gaz saw you, gave you a small smile and you gave one back. How you wished you had the courage to tell him, but now it's all gone.
As you walk away, he looks back at you. Maybe if things were different... Soap:
It was months of building up courage, and you got the news he too liked you. Ghost grew tired of the sergeant and just told you to confess, so that is what you did.
When you saw him with the other soldier, you thought Ghost played some cruel prank on you.
You liked him so much and watching him smile and be so close to someone who isn't you was what brought your confidence down. You kept overthinking about every sign he gave you. Was it all just false hope?
You weren't yourself anymore and everyone noticed it. The guy you had been head over heels for was with someone who you thought was prettier, funnier and better than you.
He did have feelings for you, but you never showed interest in him so he moved on, it's best to lose his feelings than to lose you as a friend.
Price:
It wasn't that he lost feelings, he just had a feeling you would not like him or need him the way he needs you that is why he had to occupy himself with some other recruit.
He really did all he could to wait for you to notice him in a more romantic way. And you worked so hard to make him notice you liked him.
If only feelings weren't so complicated, you wouldn't be walking back to your quarters with your heart in hand.
You were devastated, the only man you felt so strongly for, holding and kissing some other person.
Self-doubt swept in. Maybe you just weren't good enough and that is why you are now crying yourself to sleep over someone you thought would be the one.
Ghost:
He was always so open to you, except for his feelings towards you. He used to be so blunt about everything and now he is in some other's arms pretending it's you.
It stung, the guy who made you look forward to every morning, training and meetings now makes you want to stay in bed and not be seen by anyone.
He noticed your change in behaviour and wanted to ask about it but Gaz let him know it just wasn't right to ask, especially not if the question came from him.
You liked him so much, you liked how he had so many jokes to say and how he'd laugh at them. It was cute really, made you see a different side to him that he only showed you or Soap.
He is a strong soldier, having gone to wars with cartels, been tortured, and killed men and still you were the one thing he couldn't be brave about. All that training was nothing compared with his feelings.
König:
A colonel, a man who has waited hours in one position to snipe enemies and he couldn't wait just two more days to hear you confess.
You'd be lying if you said it didn't hurt. You liked his charisma, how nervous he got around just you. The second you saw him with the other soldier, it made you realise that he indeed was leading you on.
The moment he saw you walk away with a frown, he understood the damage he had done.
It wasn't like you to look at him that way, to walk away and not speak to him for days on end.
The nights you couldn't sleep because you kept thinking of the events that happened throughout the entire day, a huge smile when you'd remember how he looked at you. All those little moments now bring pain.
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prettyrealm · 8 months
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interview series: doja cat edition
July 27th 2023
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doja cat’s current energy:
she’s feeling very affectionate and nurturing right now (i’m assuming towards her relationship/partner) she’s also not taking any sort or criticism nor is she interested in any sort of self reflection at the moment. she feeling herself for sure & feels accepted by the people that matter most to her and that’s what she’s focusing on. people thinking they can criticize her is causing her to be super rebellious and she feels as if she’s claiming personal her authority with the way she’s acting. she feels as if everyone and everything is working against her and out to get her. it’s like she’s right to feel “controlled” but at this point she’s fighting for fighting’s sake. like even if you’re agreeing with her, you’re doing it wrong. she’s trusting her impulses and acting on them and she refuses to let anyone throw her back into self doubt. if im being honest, it feels a bit manic. i think she’s being quite patient in her relationship as well and things aren’t actually going as well as she hoped. she sees the man in her life right now as very careless and irresponsible, not very dependable and even a bit disappointing but she wants to stick by him despite this. i think she’s also still dealing with betrayal from a friend.
does doja cat really hate her music from hot pink and planet her?
no, she doesn’t actually hate her music from these albums. i think she’s just tired of it and is only saying she hates it because everyone else likes it so much. contrarian vibe, but she knows it’s good. i think it’s more about the unhappy emotions she attaches to the music from that time.
is doja cat acting up to get her label to drop her because she doesn't like her contract?
nope.
how does doja cat feel about her fans right now?
she feels the need to disrupt them and get things shaking. it’s like she thinks “my real ones will stay regardless” almost like she’s purging out the fakes. she feels very strongly about them (genuinely love to hatred) and knows they gave her power and she can do whatever she wants with it now (including cuss them out) she feels they need to learn to be their own people and that they’re too superficial and can’t see beyond the surface. she does feel safe for the most part though and as if she can see who’s truly devoted and a fan of her for (what she thinks) are the right reasons
was doja cat ever bullied for being black/biracial?
yes, she definitely was.
did doja cat’s mother contribute to her issues with blackness?
yes, I believe so. not on purpose or in a malicious way or anything though. it seems she just genuinely didn’t know how to raise a biracial/black child, but i think tried her best? there was A LOT of struggle here though.
how does doja cat feel about j.cyrus right now?
she feels he will overcome everything people are throwing at him and she feels he’s quite confident. she wants them to come out of this strong. she feels he deserves a new start.
how does doja cat feel about fans reaction to her dating j.cyrus?
she feels miserable and a bit devastated and i think that may be what caused her to adopt this whole “idgaf” attitude about the whole thing. but in reality, i think she may even have shed tears over this. she knows this is attached to her forever and may even feel insecure in her friendships because of it. she knows people are looking at her like she’s a terrible person.
how does doja cat feel about the allegations against j.cyrus?
i think she thinks he’s been honest and faithful and is choosing to trust in him during this time. i don’t think she even believes in the allegations, she’s choosing to be naive, thoughtless & rash when it comes to this and honestly, straight up stupid. she’s upset about the allegations overall though.
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zuko-always-lies · 11 months
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Azula-Katara AU idea (or: Katara runs into an Azula who has changed a lot in some ways and not very much in others)
I don’t think I ever detailed this AU idea despite playing around with it for a long time, since I could never quite make it work, but here it is:
The idea is that Azula disappeared not that long after the war.  It’s now several years later, and many think she’s dead(and it’s whispered in the Fire Nation that Zuko murdered her).  Meanwhile, the Fire Nation is slowly descending into civil war due to unhappiness with Zuko’s policies, and some suspect that Azula is leading one of the factions attempting to overthrow him.
Katara is traveling via ship (to the NWT? to Caldera?), but her ship gets caught in an awful storm and driven into the breakers offshore of a remote part of the Fire Nation. It disintegrates in the power of the storm, and everyone but her is killed. She’s badly injured and knocked unconscious, but is unexpectively rescued as she’s driven toward shore. In fact, the rescue was exceptionally dangerous and required great physical and bending ability to pull it off, but it takes quite a while for Katara to find out what exactly happened.
When Katara comes too, she in a hut and her wounds have been bandaged, but her injuries badly restrict her movement. Soon, Azula returns to check on her. Katara is intensely hostile and suspicious, but her being incapacitated means she has to rely on Azula.
Azula, meanwhile, makes it clear that she strongly dislikes Katara(whose name she struggles to remember) for the traumatic experience she suffered at Katara’s hands, but says that, from Azula’s perspective, the fact that the Fire Nation and Water Tribes are no longer clearly at war means that Katara can be catagorized as an injured, shipwrecked foreigner, and she has a clear obligation and duty to aid people in that catagory.  Azula makes it clear that she would love to dump the responsibility of nursing Katara back to health on literally anyone else, but they are stuck in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by difficult terrain. No one lives remotely close, and it will be a long time before Katara is well enough to hike out.  Although Katara’s healing can help, she has several broken bones and other serious injuries, and those take a long to heal.
Thus, Azula is stuck taking care of Katara for the foreseable future, even though they both dislike each other and Katara has zero trust for Azula.  What Katara doesn’t know (but might eventually pick up on) is that Azula is seriously depressed, along with being confused and broken by what has happened over the last several years. Losing the war and everything else made her doubt everything, and she’s struggled to make sense of everything as she tried to survive.* Azula came out here, into the wilderness, since the area is known to have ruins of one of ancient predecessors of the Fire Nation and is reputed to be a center of spiritual energy.* She wanted to mediate on the meaning of firebending and on the meaning of life. However, she just felt empty and was on the verge of giving up on everything, until Katara showed up.
I wasn’t quite sure where this fic would go after here, aside from Azula and Katara gradually warming up to each other; nothing I thought of for an ending ever quite worked. 
Note that I always thought of this as an enemies to friends AU, not an enemies to lovers one. The reason I chose Katara as the shipwreck victim here is that: 1. I wasn’t interested in Aang or Sokka’s dynamics with Azula, and Aang would be too trusting and positive in any case.
2. I’m not sure that the Azula we see here would rescue Zuko or spend significant time nursing him back to health. She has massive beef with him, far more than she has with any other character, and the temptation to just let him die would be massive. In any case, the story would be taken over by Zuko-Azula dynamics.
3. I don’t think Toph or Suki really have that much beef with Azula, and Azula doesn’t really have beef with them.  They might be a little distrustful, but that’s it.
4. Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee have a complex relationship with each other and a lot issues, but I don’t think either Mai or Ty Lee would be that surprised or shocked by Azula saving their lives and helping them. Moreover, the situation would become about her personal relationship with her friend, not about Azula’s sense of duty and responsibility.
5. Azula has serious beef with Katara, and Katara has serious beef with Azula. A lot of the fic is about Katara very much struggling to understand why Azula of all people would make significant sacrifices to help her.
*Azula really still feels that no cares about her or ever cared about her. That’s not necessarily true.
**Note that Azula has a significant quantity of money and supplies that she was able to purchase from money she had secretly stashed away before the end of the war.
Anyone who wants to write something inspired by this is, as always, welcome to do so. And anyone who wants to comment on this idea is also more than welcome to do so!
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dovithedarklord · 1 month
Text
Age of Monsters - Chapter Eighteen
Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König
Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC
Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!
⚠️MDNI⚠️
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Author's Note
Leona finds dinner for the night and a very unexpected dessert joins in.
Hello! :D
I have a trigger warning for this chapter: Detailed description of sexual situations, smut, and male anatomy.
Have fun! :D
Have fun! :D
I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeorm
I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeorm
if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Eighteen
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The silvery light of the moon draws the unfriendly darkness of the corridor into its pale embrace, and although there is nothing else to help me on my way except this translucent curtain, my eyes guide me across the floor as keenly as a predator on its prey, and the wood cries out with a low creak under my footsteps. And I do feel as if I had gone on a hunting trip, because the hunger that is slowly tearing my insides apart with sharp claws fills my nerves with impatience. And this restless feeling hangs only one goal in my mind, to get something as soon as possible that will quench the pain that clings to me like a poison, that pushes me minute by minute closer to the furious suffering that I wanted to avoid, but I happily earned for myself.
I wasn't wrong about that I pushed myself towards the limit again by acting all tough and rough in the last few weeks, but I strongly miscalculated how long it would take for my body to delight me with the first signs of its revenge. For although I was working with optimistic estimates, I thought I could manage to hold out with dignity at least until morning, and then I could go find Price in the hope of a nutritious meal. But it seems that stress didn’t only wear down my friends, but me as well, because even though I had dedicated many years to experiencing the limits of my own body with almost painful thoroughness, in the absence of experiences similar to my current adventurous lifestyle, I couldn't have possibly expected that the pain would arrive much sooner than I thought. Therefore, when the first dull spasm roused me from my slumber, I knew no matter the late hours, I needed to eat now before my condition worsened. And my pride couldn't bear that, especially since I was in the crosshairs of a completely new dangerous element who, God forbid, would want to take advantage of my delirium blinded by agony.  Because he would, I'm sure.
So, in the middle of the night, I rushed to Price's room, but there was no answer to either my gentle or angry knocking, and when, emboldened by this, I entered the captain's private lair, I was greeted only by silence and eerily untouched emptiness. And after the first desperate shock, I decided that the smartest thing would be to visit the person who could be the closest to able to tell me where the hell the bearded Hunter might have disappeared in the dead of the night, because just a few more hours and the fever will arrive to crown my misery, and then I'm afraid that anyone who wanders in my way will become a tasty snack in a heartbeat. And now, as the door finally appears in front of me, for which I dragged myself through the depths of the house, then for a minute I doubt whether it's really necessary for me to go up to him, but the cramp twisting my guts quickly reminds me that I don't have all that many options left to be picky. And this makes my steps quicken, and I rush to the battered threshold of my favorite Hunter with such determined fervor that it's both pitiful and remarkable at the same time.
Blurry beams of dim light shine from under the door, and a small smile tugs at my lips involuntarily as I realize that it seems Price and I aren't the only ones who couldn't rest in this haunted house. Because although the building is in surprisingly good condition, the frozen coldness that sits in every plank and brick fills the walls with the smell of corpses, and even those who have been wading in the blood of monsters since childhood cannot rest in this gutted coffin. Of course, it's also a fact that if I hadn't pushed myself with my sudden conscientiousness to the mouth of the very steep abyss of hunger, then I would have leaned into the rough arms of the soap-smelling bedsheets with the greatest peace of mind. But now I'm here, and the ache gripping my stomach in an iron fist soon turns me back to the direction of my goal, and as I gently knock on the rickety wooden board with my hand, the muffled sound echoes like a melodious song in the concert of the noises of the night.
And it doesn't surprise me in the slightest when the door opens a few seconds later, because I'm sure he heard the sneaking tap of my boots when I stepped out of the solitude of my homey quarters. Because Riley looks down at me exactly as if he had already expected me to pay my respects in front of his humble abode, and even if this isn't, it certainly gets me thinking that there is neither annoyance nor disapproval in his gaze as his dark eyes slowly glide over me. As if he knew exactly why I had embarked on such a daring nocturnal lurking, and if I just take into consideration what an awfully good observer he is, then I have to admit that he probably already guessed that sooner or later I would end up here when I recharged the small team so kindly. And I have the sneaking suspicion in my head that since he has such turbulent feelings connected to the evening of my last feeding, he is perfectly aware of when was the last time I could fill my stomach with my favorite snack, and with a little math he was able to calculate how close I could be to that state. And as the sweet memory of the incomparable taste of his blood creeps up on my taste buds, my mouth starts to water almost instinctively, and I have to forcefully push away the intrusive thoughts that urge me to put something much fresher on the menu today instead of Price's deep-frozen food.
"Where is Price?" The question escapes my mouth, because my suddenly sharpened senses don't allow me to even consider small talk and subtlety, because I fear that with every wasted word the desire to sink my canines, which ache with cruel pain, into one of the inviting slivers of the tanned skin that peeks out from under his t-shirt grows stronger. But even though the pull of instinct awakens in me, I'm still able to keep my consciousness together with my self-respect and straighten myself out with just enough determination before my longing becomes too obvious.
"He’s reporting to Laswell." Comes the rather objective answer, and with that, he gives me exactly the kind of information I was most afraid of. Once the captain starts a deep conversation with the woman, it's difficult and mostly risky to break him out of it, mainly because then it would definitely become clear how deeply I was immersed in the complications I had created for myself. "It'll take a while." He adds, and from the way he presses these few words, I understand the unspoken message, which confirms my guess that I shouldn't expect Price to get away from his exciting evening consultation anytime soon. And when I think about it, it's in the interest of all of us to immerse himself in this discourse, to see if Laswell has dug up something interesting from one of the endless pits full of super-secret documents she is so suspiciously familiar with.
"Great." I pull my mouth into a cynical grimace, and a sigh full of the world's pain escapes from my mouth, from which anyone could deduce how much this news fills me with joy. And I suspect that even without it, the masked man would have very easily been able to read the cause of my sorrow from the small tremors rolling through my body, because as he leans against the doorframe with comfortable carelessness and folds his arms in front of his broad chest, I understand from this gesture alone that I have revealed myself to him in a ridiculously simple way.
"You're at your limit again." He points out the obvious fact without an ounce of hesitation, and although his words sound like a statement of fact, there is something inquisitive in his tone, as if he is just starting to guess how creatively I will solve this situation. Because we both know what it will lead to if I let this initial torment drag on. The steamy moments that took place in the dimness of the infirmary are projected too vividly on the canvas of my mind, and as my eyes inevitably stray for a moment to his forearm, and I catch a glimpse of the tiny white mementos of my teeth on him in the sea of scars, I could swear I could taste the salty aroma of his skin on the tip of my tongue again. Shit…
"Maybe." I put all my carefree lightness into my voice, directing my attention to his face again, and I'm unable to hide the curve of the naughty smile creeping on my lips when I see the disapproval appear in his eyes. How sweet... "You're worried, perhaps?" I ask teasingly, raising one of my arched eyebrows, taking a bold step towards him, despite the fact that the dull pain in every fiber of my body slowly begins to pulse steadily, as if every heartbeat wanted to remind me how starved my energy is. But for some reason, the closer I get to this dangerous man's inviting proximity, the less I can think clearly, as if some invisible force is guiding me, like a helpless marionette being pulled on a string. And unfortunately, the problem is that I don't even try to resist.
But instead of engaging in a verbal sparring match with me, which already flows between us as effortlessly as breathing, I just watch in bewilderment as he steps aside and reveals the entrance to his room to me, almost inviting me in. And this small act seems so impossible that I only gape at him, blinking with skeptical confusion, because the realist side of my brain sees a trap behind this as well. Because what other logical reason could there be for him to voluntarily allow me into his den?
"Come in." He motions with his head towards the small room covered in the yellow light of the broken lamp, and it sounds more like he is giving a command, but it still sits in my ears like an irresponsible invite to a reckless dance. I'm sure he knows what he is conveying to me, because I realized a long time ago that there is not a twitch that he does by accident. And in light of this, he is very brave to let a hungry predator into his lair, even if I'm not a real threat to him. Although he could easily break my spine like a toothpick, we both know that it's not so easy to resist my mean little bite, which led us to interesting situations the last time as well. Although it may not have been against his will, but a dutiful man like him doesn't need a distraction like that on a mission.
"Unless you have a bag of blood, it's not the best idea." I warn him, aptly reminding him that we both know that a little heart-to-heart talk won't help with this problem, and I strongly doubt that he secretly indulges in the same sinful eating habits that I do. But he doesn't seem the least bit moved by my remark, as he continues to stare down at me with unflinching persistence, not wasting a word trying to argue his offer. And from the way his eyes are fixed on me wordlessly, I quickly understand that he shared his idea with me not as an option, but rather as an introduction to a ready fact. Because he already decided when he saw me on his doorstep that it would be best for me to stick with him in his solitude. Terribly interesting. "Okay." I finally give in, and even though there is a breath of staged resistance in my emphasis, I'm much more curious about what his purpose is with letting a wild animal ready to attack into his cave. Because although he is the apex predator of the two of us, I'm the one who is slowly becoming more and more desperate, and in this position, necessity drives a person to do many reckless and foolish things.
Although with every movement the stabbing pain that is growing stronger rips through my body, as if a thousand tiny needles were being twisted in me, I slip past him with all the lightness I can muster, and as the mouth-watering, spicy scent emanating from him hits my nose, then the violent hand of hunger twists my insides with almost unbearable agony. Because even this half-second of closeness is enough to make me dizzy from the inviting pulsation of his blood under the tight confines of his skin, and the desire to taste him again rushes into my mind with such force that it makes every inch of my body ache with cruel force. And that urges me to move deeper into his quarters, sneaking past him in such a hurry that it's almost pathetic, because I'm afraid that if I stay closer to him longer than necessary, I won't be able to stop the scratching voice in my head that screams to sink my teeth into him, because that's exactly why he led me here.
And the seduction of the treacherous thoughts echoing in my skull is louder than it should be, so I decide it's better to divert my attention to something else, because aimlessly peeking around seems like a much safer pastime than giving in to this miserable little voice. As I look around the barren interior of a half-empty room similar to mine, I discover the table resting at the other end and the pile of papers spread out in the mess that has unfolded on it, and my legs almost automatically carry me to the piece of furniture. And the closer I get, the clearer the reason for Riley's late-night fun becomes, because as soon as I arrive at the thick stack of files, I recognize in them every single piece of the documents that Price has so willingly provided for us with. It seems that he was at least as disturbed by the mystery of finding the Rat as his boss, because the complexity of the quickly scrawled notes rivals the work of the bearded Hunter, and reveals that the masked man has been crouching above these pages in his intimate alone time ever since the captain ordered our enforced rest. While it doesn't surprise me that Riley can't take a break and spends every waking minute working, it still sparks concern even in my ugly little soul when I see such obvious signs that he is driving himself to the brink of exhaustion. I know that the hyperstrong body of the Hunters can withstand a lot of stress, but I doubt that it will tolerate being drained and pushed for performance without rest and, above all, without sleep. Undoubtedly, thanks to the regenerating, he may now feel like someone who has had a liter of caffeinated liquid poured down his throat, which actually comes from coffee beans, but this momentum is quite finite.
The soft sound of the closing door pulls me back to reality, and as the promise of a way out disappears, I become aware that I have fallen into a not-so-terrible, but very sure trap of his company. And even though I feel the weight of the man's searching gaze on my back, I continue to feign carefree curiosity and concentrate on studying his work so far, because suddenly my sense of smell sharpens and detects the scent lingering between the battered walls, which casts the red mist of longing on my brain with almost elemental force. Because with each breath, his essence fills my nose, into which the bitter sting of tobacco smoke mingles, but despite this, alongside the empty pain throbbing in my stomach, it is able to stir up the demanding tension that I know only encourages reckless ideas.
"What's the plan now?" I ask the obvious question that hangs invisibly in the silence between the two of us, and I run my fingers through a small stack of papers with nonchalant interest, scanning through the notes scribbled in neatly curved letters. And even a fleeting glance is enough to realize what sharp observations he made about the unknown terrain in such a short time based on the laughable bit of information at our disposal, and I already have a fitting little compliment on my tongue, with which I would like to address his enthusiasm. But that's not why we are here now, and I'm much more interested in what could have gone on in that mysterious mind of his when he thought it would be worthwhile to share his undisturbed peace with me.
"I have what you need." Comes the completely unexpected answer, and when my brain, which is not necessarily working at peak speed, understands what he has shared with me, I turn to him with cautious surprise, because I have to check whether I'm hallucinating from the lack of blood. But when I see him standing as still as a statue with unwavering confidence in front of the closed door, I don't think I detect either amusement or uncertainty in him. And that makes me question for a minute whether he really knows what sinful temptations he offers me so carelessly.
"Would you look at that." The first small reaction of my surprise bursts out of me, and I lean against the edge of the table with my arms entwined comfortably in front of me, because this conversation is slowly straying into a very unusual side track. Although it would be a shame to deny that it beneficially diverts my attention from my ever-increasing suffering. "Don't tell me that you're secretly into blood and hiding a few bags." I remark with halfhearted disbelief, sneaking the blunt edge of boldness into my words, because even though there was already an example of me snacking from him, it was the unexpected end product of a series of very complicated circumstances. But it's different now. And even though I would have to drag myself to Price, slipping and falling in my own fever and sweat, I could probably last until dawn if I really had to, and he probably knows that well. Yet he almost ordered me here, knowing for sure that he wouldn't help any of us by doing so. What's on your mind, Riley?
And instead of cheering me up with some clever answer, he gives up his peaceful loitering and starts towards me with slow steps, and I eagerly follow his every move to see if he shows me what he is up to. The thumping of his heavy boots reverberates dully from the walls of the room, and I watch almost mesmerized as his strong figure stalks towards me with the elegance of a big cat, leaving only a few tantalizing inches between us as he settles in front of me, which makes my heart skip a beat with desperate speed. Because, although not with words, but with this simple act, he lets me know quite clearly why I'm here. And this raises some very risky questions in my mischievous little brain.
"Are you offering yourself up to me now, Riley?" I tilt my head to the side curiously, letting a cheeky smile to curve on my lips, because this is such an unexpected turn of events which even in my wildest dreams I would have only dared to imagine as an improbable joke. Now, however, he looks down at me with an almost surreal seriousness, and as my eyes meet his, I can read nothing but determination in his dark eyes, and in a fraction of a second, a pleasant tingle flares up under my skin in addition to the stabbing pain. And as every sinful wave of the seductive heat emanating from him reaches my sharpened senses, my fingers only bite harder into my upper arms, because I'm afraid that otherwise I would be enthusiastic enough to explore every inch of his luscious body.
"This is the most practical solution." He states with an almost objective indifference, but it doesn't escape my attention as amused wrinkles gather around his eyes, as if the line of a playful half-smile would be hidden under the dark fabric. And because of this, he gives me the impression of someone who is deliberately trying to provoke me, just to see if I do something completely thoughtless. And it occurs to me that perhaps this is precisely his goal, since he clearly let my delusional brain know that he wouldn't mind at all if he was on the receiving end of my cunning little practices. But such recklessness would be irresponsible even from a man as terrifying as him, because he doesn't know the dirty ways I can play once I put enough energy into it. And from the way the caress of his gaze warms my skin, I become quite motivated to fulfill my earlier promise and see what limits I have to push in order to see him let loose.
"I have a bit of a deja vu." I muse with feigned nostalgia in my voice, because my mind doesn't have to work long to recall what it was like the last time he so selflessly offered himself to me as a delicious morsel. Because the taste has been living in my memories ever since, as if it had bought a season ticket between my neurons. And just from the idea that I can sink my teeth into him again, to feel the rapid beating of his pulse under my tongue and hear the deep murmur of his breathing in my ears, I almost get lightheaded. "But now I've run out of wishes. Will you still let me drink from you?" I inquire, referring back to the little fact that led to our whole overheated little night out, which he seems quite eager to return to. And this gives me the stray thought that maybe he really doesn't want to sacrifice himself on the altar of camaraderie, but that my small stunt left such a deep mark on him that he would gladly ask for another round. 
"I'm makin' an exception now." He elaborates, sharing the noble reason with me why he so candidly offers himself to be my late dinner, and I'm unable to get rid of the mean little expression climbing onto my face, because it seems that he gladly walks into my open claws with the greatest joy. And I'm neither so good-natured nor so crazy as to say no to a gourmet meal when he puts his throat so eagerly between my teeth.
"How generous of you..." I note, and let the hum of impatient craving crawl into my voice, because at this point it no longer makes sense, and from the pull of the hunger rampaging inside me, I wouldn't be able to hide the cruel force with which he draws me to himself. And this is what makes my eyes go on a lazy tour around all the desirable corners of his tall figure towering over me, because hundreds of ideas storm my mind, wild from his indulgence, debating where I should taste him. "Even if I'm the one choosing where I will bite you?" I challenge daringly, and now I finally let the itch in my fingertips invite me to a curious adventure, because it would be a sin not to take advantage of the opportunity when it presents itself so kindly and foolishly.
My hands free themselves from their forced shackles almost too excitedly, and I can feel the slow rhythmic beating of his heart as one of my palms rests on his chest. With a deliberate touch, I map the bulging curve of the muscles dancing under my touch, and as I slither up to his shoulder with the measured slowness of a snake, I hook my fingers around the neckline of his shirt and pull the soft textile aside, revealing the seductive little valley where the inviting vein and the delicious red liquid pulsate under the hard flesh. And I almost desperately swallow the pitiful moan that rises in my throat, because even though the sun-kissed skin is woven with bright tendrils of scars here too, and I see a rough-edged mark that was once licked by flames climbing from his back with a dull purple color, yet I'm sure I've never seen a more enticing sight.
But as he suddenly moves and breaks me out from my mesmerized concentration, his hands find support next to me and close around me from both sides, trapping me into the prison of his hulking body. And I almost confusedly turn my attention back to his face, tearing my gaze away from the enchanting area I had just discovered, but I don't regret for a minute that I can immerse myself in those dark eyes again. Because now I can clearly see the dangerous flickers that light up in them, which promise such fleeting pleasures that make my stomach tremble with excitement, and I hardly even register the tension, tamed into a numb ache, caused by the hungry demand of my energy. The idea of burning the hot mark of my lips into every inch of him with my mouth awakens much more strongly in my body, so that he remembers in every waking minute what desperate desire he was able to bring to life in me.
"Go on." He leans down to me, and I can almost feel how the heat of the power radiating from him soaks into my cells, causing a shiver of anticipation to travel down my spine, slowly drawing a heady fog over my brain with his proximity. "Those little teeth don't do much damage." He claims, and his tone is filled with something quite playful, as if he just wants to tempt me to refute this impudent comment of his.
And as he glances at my mouth, which opens in shock, and my tongue almost reflexively runs along the grooves of my teeth, finding one of my aching canines, then I see how the brown irises slowly narrow into a thin ring as they follow this unconscious movement. And the realization that this man wants me to bite him hits me like a bolt of lightning. He demands that I tear open his skin and plunge deep into his flesh, because he wants to feel what he experienced in the infirmary. Which moved hoarseness in his throat and restrained tension in his limbs, and which caused a hardness in his lap, born of desire. He wants to bathe in the guilty feeling I caused him intoxicated by his blood, and suddenly I crave nothing more than to give him what he so nicely asks of me. Because every nerve fiber of mine is begging me to lure him into that shallow trap, in the smoldering foams of which I'm drowning more and more surely.
"Remember this later, too." I make this one last comment, and in this short sentence lies the warning, with which I let him know that he has entered into a game the outcome of which I will vouch for, but all its responsibility will rest on his shoulders if he brags so boldly that my teeth cannot seriously harm him. Since with this, he quite deliberately incites the need to prove myself, and urges me to show him how wrong he is. Because the storming thoughts in my head tell me that I can bring him to his knees, I just have to try meanly enough. And maybe that's exactly what he needs. Someone to finally teach him a lesson and take the control out of his hands, so that he could taste what it's like to be at the mercy of someone else with the fate of the burning desire awakening in his body. So be it…
And just enough motivation is born in my consciousness to finally push my body towards action, so I drag him down to me with my hand resting on his shoulder, and he fulfills my silent request with almost ready obedience. As I reach up to the base of his neck to trace the curve of the tight muscle with my lips, the heavy scent emanating from him fills my nose, and I close my eyes trembling, as the overwhelming torment of hunger ripples through me, dragging behind the blazing sparks that ignite every frail inch of my body like a wildfire. And now I'm unable to hold back the impatient pull that besieges my insides, which makes my mouth lach to his skin like a hungry leech, and as my teeth penetrate the supple boundaries of the tissues, then the intoxicating taste of his blood floods my tongue again and with that, every tiny thread that ties me to sobriety is torn. And it elicits nothing but a relieved sigh from me when the emptiness that tortures my stomach is finally replaced by a pleasant warmth. But even though my brain is covered by the veil of daze, my ears still keenly catch the hoarse moan, the force of which resonates throughout his chest, and rushes through my ear canals like a rousing melody, feeding the insatiable flame that licks at my belly, almost burning me alive.
The first greedy sip of red liquid rolls down my throat, and along with it, the electrifying sparkles settle in my limbs, and my mind, which is slowly sinking into a drunken stupor, does not try to stop the reckless thoughts that are stirring in it. My free hand departs with imperceptible insidiousness on his left arm resting on the table, dancing with a feather-light touch along his forearm webbed with thick fibers, and it fills me with a ridiculous amount of satisfaction when I feel them tighten under my fingertips. And although this small sign should serve as a signal to my blinded consciousness, I'm buried too heavily under the intoxicating sensation of his blood for me to be able to appreciate what a risky little fun I have started into. Although I'm aware of the horrors he is capable of with the power hidden within him, I still know that he holds the reins of his self-control with an iron fist, and I want to experience what it's like when he has to hold on to this control with gritted teeth. Because the damned little voice that lives deep in my skull tells me that if this terrible man lets his strict mask slip and the self-restraint that resides in him crack, then I will have an experience that I will never be lucky enough to witness again.
Excited by this, I trace the round line of his biceps, and as his broad shoulders twitch, when my mischievous little fingers reach there on their brave journey, I teasingly caress the battered skin with my tongue, and perhaps the subtle tremors that run through him are involuntary, but they accelerate the rhythmic drumming of his pulse under my mouth. And in my clouded brain, the thought arises quite boldly, whether he would tremble more wildly if I were to repeat the same small movement somewhere completely different. Because of this, the sharp teeth of want squeeze my insides with such desperate vehemence, that for a minute my consciousness, swimming in a blood-tipsy daze, drifts to the edge of fainting, and my blunt nails dig into him from the force I grip his shoulders with. But he doesn't protest, he just lets out a sigh heavy with desire, and as I feel his hot breath break through the fabric of his mask, I already know that I will do anything to see him falling apart.
I'm unable to stop, and my fingers continue to wander from his shoulder to the mounds of firm muscles swelling on his chest, and as my palm reaches his stomach, I feel the hard ridges ripple under the soft fabric, when I suck the wounds inflicted by my teeth perhaps a little harder than necessary. And I'm not quite sure that it's just the heavenly taste of his blood that's responsible for the warmth that boils in the pit of my stomach, because the raspy groan that erupts from his throat sounds more like the growl of a caged beast than the voice of a human being.
He invades every single one of my senses, and this heady buzz slowly enters my head, as if I wanted to quench the insatiable, sweet misery raging inside me with alcohol. Although the power of the hunger that tormented me has long since eased and the razor-sharp claws of pain have disappeared from my muscles, now something completely different fills every part of my being with restless energy. And when this feeling starts to feel a bit too much, and my mind would tip over into the pleasant unconsciousness of euphoria, I tear my mouth away from my victim's neck and with consoling kisses, I clean up the crimson droplets emerging from the small cuts of my teeth. And I know that I'm not imagining the way he jolts with each touch, and the sculpted muscles contract fiercely under the caress of my lips, like he would have to force himself to stay still. And the haunting voice in my head tells me that this is only the beginning, and just a small taste of the deep bottomless pit that I need to push him into.
Now that my mind is not dominated by fear of my actions, but by curiosity, I draw away from him with a lazy calmness to examine my work. And for a moment my breath is taken away by what I meet with when my bright eyes run over his figure leaning over me. There is something quite desperate in the way he stares down at me from under the tent of his blonde eyelashes, because I can see the hunger in his eyes that has also taken root in my body. A pleasant shiver sweeps over me when he follows my tongue, almost mesmerized, which cleans the rest of my dinner from the corner of my mouth. And my throat goes dry as I see his curved lips part under the dark material of his mask, and suddenly I want nothing more than to remove the damn fabric and feel what his mouth tastes like when he loses control. Because although I can't see his face, the smoldering waves of aching roll down his body with such ferocity that I can almost feel the roaring power emanating from him, as if I were embraced by living flames. But I don't care one bit if the fire that's coming to life in him sclads me, because every cell in me is begging me to burn myself with it.
However, I'm not satisfied with just recognizing the fierce thirst hidden in his eyes, and as I travel to his chest, rising wildly from his deep breaths, I'm filled with excited anticipation, because I want to see with what force my small teeth have effected him. Because I know that, contrary to his big words, I injected a poison into his body that planted a tension ready to jump in his every pore. And as my gaze slides down and rests on his crotch, a small grin spreads on my lips, because I see his hardness straining against the rough material of his pants, the clear sign of how much my sneaky little temptation was able to arouse sinful desires in him. And this finally breaks through all the barriers that kept my greed in check, which was already alive in my subconscious even in the infirmary, but now I'm not afraid to face it. Because I want to destroy this man, so that he can never forget my touch, and every time he closes his eyes, he replays these minutes behind his eyelids.
"You said last time that I started something I shouldn't have." I mutter softly, my eyes finding his again, and as I identify those mouth-watering, waiting glints to dance in the pools of his dilated pupils, I no longer have any desire to chase away the evil expression climbing to my face. Because I see in them the promise that could set the whole world on fire if I danced back from my vile little game. But he is lucky, because I'd die if I had to let him go. "Now I'll finish it." I declare firmly, and my hand resting on his stomach finds the belt attached to his pants to hook into the cold material. But I won't give him time to comment on my suggestion, because I'm not sharing an offer with him, but a dead-certain fact, and I'm going to make sure he can't think clearly enough to object.
My sly little hands immediately get to work and quickly unfasten the buckle of his belt, and as it surrenders with a soft clatter, I hear how sharply he inhales, as if he just wants to keep his composure in place. I know that he is still clinging to his sanity, and his stubbornness is sowing the seeds of a thousand diabolical ideas in my head, and guided by the bubbling excitement in my stomach, I decide that it is about time to obey one of them. With almost agonizing slowness, I loosen the small button that still holds his trousers on his hip, so that when I find the flies, I enjoy every second of the suffering that appears in his eyes when I finally start to pull down that wretched zipper. Because it's obvious with what persistence he has to hold himself back when my brave hand starts on its reckless path and traces the line of his erection hidden under his underwear. The line of his prominent jaw must be clenched with an almost painful force, as my fingers trail the throbbing curve of the thick vein running on his length, and the aching tremble moves into every fiber of me, as I find the wet spot that broke through the soft cotton in the wake of his excitement. And it's desperate how much pride fills me when it dawns on me that I'm responsible for how every single muscle of his is straining to the point of a snapping, and perhaps only a few thin threads separate him from throwing away his restraint.
But I want more than that, and this is the insatiability that leads my hand to sink under the fine fabric quite unexpectedly, so that I can finally release him from the suffocating captivity in which the poor thing has had to languish until now. And as the soft skin smooths under my palm, as my fingers wrap around his cock, I bite my lips to hold back the desperate moan that would want to break out of me, because I can clearly feel him twitching in my grip as I finally touch him. Now I have to look down, and I watch, almost spellbound, as his hard member emerges from under the dark textile. Thanks to the hypnotized trance taking over my mind, I can only follow silently as my fingers slowly trace along his length, and when my thumb smooths a white, pearly little drop from its head, then his whole body shakes from this small movement, and I fix my eyes on his face with the speed of a starving predator. And heat rises between my thighs, as I see the violent, barely controlled lust that radiates from his gaze, an excruciating desire coming to life in every corner of my body under its weight, which makes me want to cling to him asking him to bury himself into me. But now I have a different objective.
This is the determination that makes me able to swallow the pleading words rising in my throat, and instead let the crippling thoughts in my head take control of me. Without warning, my hand locks around his cock, and it's cruel even for me, the way my hand starts slide along his length, bringing out such muffled sounds from the man with each movement, which only further helps the flames raging in my consciousness become blazing hot. And I stare in amazement as his broad shoulders shake, when my fingers gather the wetness collected on his leaking tip, and the chuckle is brave even to my ears, that escapes my lips as his mouth opens in a rasped moan, as my thumb caresses that tiny little slit, from which the pre-cum gush out in thick drops. And although the determination in my head helps me stay on my goal, all my senses are focused on him, and with each passing minute, the veil of passion that descends on my brain grows thicker and thicker. An infectious heat emanates from every inch of his strong body, and the tingle under my skin boils hungrily, which pleads for his large palms to soothe the impatient energy that pulsates desperately in my veins. And the longer my hand strokes his heavy shaft, the stronger the salty scent emanating from him becomes, and it fills my nose and creeps further into my head, pushing all my nerves towards a drunken bliss.
Still, it's a much bigger reward as I see the battle of feelings passing through the dark eyes, and even my slowed mind recognizes that he is deciding how long he will let me continue with my naughty little game. And I don't have to wait long for the answer, because I catch on my periphery how the strong muscles dance as his arm rises, but before he can gather himself and leave his post on the table, I suddenly grasp his cock, and his whole body shakes from my meanness. My fingers gently tighten around the silky flesh, and even this small warning is enough to make him abandon his plan in an instant, whatever he was going to do, and instead, fix his fierce eyes on me, grunting like a wild animal that was pulled back by its chain just as it could have sunk its teeth into its victim. But he needs to know that the leash is in my hands right now.
"No, no..." I shake my head with playful scorn in my voice, and he leers down at me with such an angry temper that I know I'm well on the way to him giving up the self-control he's honed over the years. "Be a good boy, Riley. Keep your hand on the table, or I'll stop..." I share my silly little threat, and it doesn't escape my attention how quickly his jaw tenses as I scold him. And from the way he puts his body weight back on his hands and leans closer to me, I know that although he certainly doesn't like me instructing him in such a treacherous way, he is very happy to join this fight. Because I saw the excited lust in his eyes when I called him a good boy.
"You're playin' with fire..." He warns, and the passion puts a hoarseness in his voice, with which he addresses his frivolous little words to me. He doesn't need to remind me of that, because I know he could take what he wants in a heartbeat. But instead, he remains motionless, and his hips jerk almost demandingly, as my nimble little hand begins to pump him again, moving lazily up and down his thick length. And for a moment I almost take pity on him when I see how his strong shoulders stiffen as he tries to fulfill my request, like a well-trained beast that wants to please its owner despite its instincts. That's why my free hand goes on a torturous journey, and he snaps his eyes on my fingers running along the graceful curve of my neck so willingly that it's quite sweet.
"Is that how you wanted to touch me?" I ask quietly, and he follows with unflinching attention as I caress one of the supple mounds of my breast, and even under the material of my shirt I can feel one of my nipples visibly hardening under the onslaught of my feather-light touch. And although I'm also torturing myself with this, because the pressure of the hot ache in my belly is becoming more and more intense, it gives me much more satisfaction to see his throat move, as he swallows the tormented sigh that nevertheless escapes from his mouth as a muffled growl. Because I know that I will slowly break his tough mask by simultaneously giving him pleasure and fueling his hunger with the little show that I present to him. When my shameless trip ends on my stomach, and my fingers playfully dance along the edge of my pants, submerging under the rough fabric for a moment, then I hear how forcefully the air gets trapped in his chest from restrained anticipation. But I'm more evil than that, and I enjoy this disgraceful game much more than to give him what he so strongly craves.
I finish my performance just as quickly as I started it, and finding the nape of his neck, I tug him down to me, leaning closer to him with every alluring inch of my body, smoothing my lips against his face through the dark textile. Because I want him to hear clearly what the price is for me to stop torturing him, and he can finally get the sweet release, for which every part of him screams so much for.
"You don't deserve that just yet." I state simply, and the softness as I caress the line of his ear with my mouth is quite intentional, and I can feel how he freezes, as it reaches his brain, what kind of diabolical comment I made to him. "First I want to hear you moan my name..."  I whisper my bold order to him, and an excited shiver runs through my body when I hear how the hard surface of the table cries out, as it cracks under the grip of his big hands. And the knowledge that he could easily throw me on the table and help both of us with our ravenous hunger, but instead obeys me despite the wild desire pulsing from him, awakens such a satisfied warmth in my stomach that makes me decide that it's time to reach the finale.
Letting go of his thick neck, I lean away from him because I want to see him fall apart by my hands, and I grab his shoulders with excited terror as my eyes connect with his. Like the raging sea in a night storm, in which the destructive waves collide and bury the ships drifting under them, dragging their helpless victims into the deadly foam. There swirls the heat in his eyes that could consume me alive, and under the intensity of which a painful tremble moves into each and every corner of my body. And the movement is quite instinctive, as my thighs tightly press together to try to calm the feverish, wet pulsing between my legs. I can only thank the fact that I don't start begging him to bury in me his throbbing hardness between my fingers, that I can feel his hips jerking forward, thrusting himself deeper into my grasp. I know he is close to the end, because I can feel his breathing speeding up, and this is enough of a signal for me to pick up the pace of the torturous work of my hands, and it's quite mesmerizing how his chest rises while panting, as the pleasure slowly washes over him.
"Fuck… Woods!" He moans, and I can almost hear him squeezing my name out between his clenched teeth, but I'm sure I have never heard a more beautiful sound in my life. It vibrates along his chest like a big cat purring, and it puts such a guilty edge in those few syllables, that I have to bite into my lips to hold back the tortured whimper that climbs up my trachea.
I can name exactly which is the point when the string of lust breaks inside him and his body falls into the burning arms of pleasure, because his whole body tenses up at the same time, like a drawn bow. He closes his eyes, and there is something insanely beautiful in the way his head is thrown back and the characteristic curve of his throat bulges out, and I would like to trace the moving tip of his Adam's apple with my tongue, but the sight is too paralyzing for that. And I only perceive it as a dull crackling as the wood of the table finally gives in, because it blurs my mind too quickly, as his hot release spills on the back of my hand, and I help him through the violent tremors of his orgasm.
And as the heat that has traveled through his body seems to subside, and the burning tension contracting his muscles seems to ease, then I watch with fascination as the droplet of sweat appears from under the material of his mask, to crawl down and mix with the crimson pearls appearing through the teeth marks I left on him. And this reminds me that it would be time to taste the dessert that I served myself with such tireless work. I let his cock slip out of my grasp, and he, gasping for air, follows me from under his half-closed eyelids as I raise my hand to my mouth. It doesn't escape my attention that his mesmerized gaze settles on my protruding tongue, which cleans the pearly white streams of his cum from my skin with a comfortable slowness. And I see the unbridled temper flaring up again, as I consume my snack to the last drop with a mischievous little smile, and release the soft moan that wants to break out of me from the salty taste spreading in my mouth. But it seems that he is still under the influence of my game, because he cannot react in time as I reach up and place a small kiss on his lips pressed together under the dark fabric, enjoying the warm moisture that the sighs trapped in the textile planted there.
"Thanks for the dinner." I thank him with a biting cheekiness in my voice, and something quite dangerous flashes in his eyes, which makes me think that maybe it's time to finally take my leave. Because I'm afraid that if I stay even a minute longer, I will let him seize control and take revenge for having amused myself with his sweet suffering in such a nasty way. That's why, taking advantage of his pleasure-induced slowness, I nimbly duck under his strong arm and retreat from his charming proximity before he has a chance to catch up with me. And the irritation with which he turns around is quite amusing, because he looks like a dog on a chain, in front of whom the cat danced just enough to make him want to bite its thin little throat.
"Woods... " He grunts, and I sense the edge of his unspoken threat, and although I hear my name escape his mouth for the second time during the night, and despite the fact that now a series of dark promises are mixed in his emphasis, he instills a morbid excitement in my limbs as he adjusts his tattered clothes and straightens up, glancing down at me. "This isn't over yet." He claims firmly, and there is not an iota of uncertainty or hesitation in his statement. But if it scares me, it dulls into a distant worry in my skull, for his blood and the wondrous sight he presented me with fill my mind with too much careless courage.
"Punish me if you can." I shrug my shoulders lightly, walking to the door with a spring in my steps, only to turn back to him one last time before leaving the room overheated by the heady smell of his body. "I'll look forward to it." I add this little remark to the end, putting a defiant grin on my face. As I see the recognition appear in his gaze, which makes his eyes narrow dangerously, then I know that he remembers that not so long ago he challenged my cunning tactics against himself with these exact same words. And he can only blame himself for believing that I wouldn't make use of his irresponsibility.
Although I step out into the moonlit hallway with the knowledge that I can cash in on the fact that Riley will pounce on me, perhaps when I least expect it, the threat is unable to make the satisfaction that nestles in my head disappear. And it may be true that every single cell of mine is crying out demanding that I turn around and let the man ease the burning need stretching my insides, but even that can't break my good mood. Because I was able to force him to surrender, and I showed him what vile tricks I have up my sleeve, which can make even a determined, powerful Hunter like him hand over the reins to someone else. And that sweetens the anticipation that I will be subjected to. Come on, Riley, show me you can be a mean bastard like me. I can't wait…
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madeupoflowers · 2 years
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What are your hidden abilities and gifts?🎇🪄
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Hi my loves! I got another suggested pick a card for you all! It was so interesting reading all of these unique and precious energies.🥰
Piles 1-2 are the top row
Piles 3-4 are the bottom row
(Thank you @vincenzomalfoy🪄)
If you need some guidance on how to choose the right pile, here are some techniques I like to use:
If a specific things sparks a pang of nostalgia or joy in you
If one pile “shines” brighter than the others
Close your eyes and think of a blank slate then open them quickly, which ever “jumped out” in that moment is the one.
Of course, it’s possible to feel drawn to more than one pile and if that’s the case then feel free to read for them both! (For me, sometimes I’ll get an intuitive message when Spirit wants me to read one pile before the other.)
Overall, it’s normal to doubt your gut or intuition at first but please know with practice makes things “perfect”. Don’t be hard on yourself over that! If no pile calls out to you, then that’s valid! There may not be a message here for you(or yet). I will try to add more piles down the line. Remember you all are special and so precious. If you doubt that I’ll have to go Italian mother on your ass and smack you with a wooden spoon.😤😊
Now, enough outta me and enjoy your reading, honeybees!!🐝🤌🏻🧧
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🌬🤲🏻💋
🎀🌷💕🎀🌷💕🎀🌷💕🎀🌷💕
Pile 1
Incredibley emotionally intellent even if you don’t see it. Brilliant thinkers I see genuises here. Its like you are able to intuitively see future outcomes thus giving you an advantage to make the perfect decision. You have the potential to be a great influence and this may be the social media pile. You are perfect for entertainment! I feel those who choose this pile are very charming, versitle and funny! This is the pile where they are able to get people to help you out and vouch for you and your talents! I feel through this gift to wear the perfect mask and act for the right situations and to adapt quickly makes you a magnet for wealth and fame one way or another. What ever it is that thag you feel called to do but feel it’s not logical enough- STOP! That’s the path you will get the most abundance and admiration out of!! Listen to your heart and gut, it’s screaming at you!
Channeled messages: silver dolphin necklace, swim team, clouds, fashion design, glitter pens, ISFP, Libra, Solar plexus chakra, lip stain, sugar, stone carving, Springtime, star shaped glitter, peaches scent.
Pile 2
ARE YOU FAMOUS?
Hehe, no seriously…👀 You have so much luck when it comes to money and locking down a good deal. If you somehow don’t feel this then you will be in the near future however I truly think you all are strongly in this abundant energy already. You are not meant to be working under anyone as you are meant to be an authority. You are meant to call all of the shots. CEO, sports players, businessmen/women, etc. This is your pile. If you have a dream to break barriers or I feel like being the first female, first trans-individual or first SOMETHING, this is what you are meant to do. Please don’t dim your light, I feel so many people try to!! Especially recently, I feel like you are hiding internal doubts regarding this light and for the love of all things don’t let it win. You have so much potential and beauty on the inside and out. People see this and want to see it as a threat when in reality it’s their own issues not yours. Don’t burden yourself and dim your shine for these low vibrational people. Don’t be afraid to get out of this comfort zone and do something “crazy”, something everyone else is too insecure or shy to attempt! Ground breaker, you are a meant to break molds!
Channeled messages: Serena van der Woodsen, Aries, ENFJ, ringlet curly hair, Solar plexus chakra AND Root chakra!, Emelié, French language, pepper, “best vengeance is your paper”, Arabian nights, gentle bell chiming, scuba diving.
Pile 3
Are these my politicians and activists?? Y’all are destined to speak up against bullshit and call out the shitty system! I saw someone standing at a podium and telling a groundbreaking and passionate speech! You will not glaze over an issue, you hate that stuff! Think the world's leaders are foolish and pathetic for not standing up and standing tall for what they believe in! You are meant to become a great leader yourself and give your all to a cause. I see multiple causes but one is extremely important to you. The ability to be fair and deliver justice unbiased comes so naturally to you. Never afraid to fight for what you believe in. I see debaters here. You never stand back in submission and let yourself be cornered. No, you stand for your morals and values. I see someone who is so much more sensitive than they let others know and thats another amazing ability of yours. I feel much of your opinions and stances on things can be taboo or controversial. Luckily, you know how to keep the wrong people from taking advantage of you and stabbing you where your vulnerable. Yet I still feel “keep your friends close but your enemies closer.”
Channeled messages: desert, ocotillo cactus, writing with a feather, “stop crying over spilled milk”, Virgo, figs, moon bracelet, 5’7, stage anxiety, AHS, maroon, Korea, Malaysia, Brunei, letter ‘J’, climbing over a tan hill.
Pile 4
My spiritual leader piles! Monks, nuns, gurus, preachers, counselors, etc. I feel you are gifted in be able to shine light in the darkness. To bring light and wisdom to those who need it the most. A reliable shoulder and an open ear willing to just listen. You know how to make many confide in you and trust you deeply. Maybe it’s because you dont have a harsh aura to you. You seem simply…good. Benevolent. You are incredible at healing those who have endured so many hardships. Not many in this big world have the levels of patience and grace as you do. Always willing to be of service to those in need. I feel those who chose this pile are starseeds. You came here with a divine purpose to do unconditional love, you aren’t a violent soul and may find it hard to stand up for yourself at times. Don’t fear if you set boundaries, people naturally feel the urge to respect you. There is so much purity and kindness in you even if you don’t think or feel it, doesn’t mean it’s not there! You will bring light, wisdom, strength and hope to this world. I saw a gentle elderly woman sitting on a cough with a warm smile as if she was sharing a story of great wisdom and advice to her grandchildren. Thank you for what you do and are gonna do Pile 4, without your love and wise nature, this world would be in chaos. We need more individuals like you.
Channeled messages: Aquarius, Ceres, Athena, pantheon, leather sandals, Judism, huggable, nose scrunches, vanilla bean, jungles, Thailand, orange and red combination, church, Norway, Danish language, crescent moon, Venusian dominant chart, feathered wings, gentle raindrops, sushi.
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faejilly · 9 months
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i absolutely love your sh meta so i was wondering what are your thoughts on Alec’d relationship with his sexuality bc i always sort of read it as him knowing that he was gay but absolutely not saying it out loud
absofuckinglutely nonny
There's an excellent post by amorverus that I cannot find the original of so have my reblog HERE that articulates it really well
I even wrote a fic about it! #shameless self promotion [tumblr / ao3] (That is, in fact, one of my favorite things I've ever written.)
I do strongly believe that Alec knew that he was gay, and felt no shame about that in and of itself. He is not offended by Magnus flirting with him, would not, I think, be offended by anyone else flirting with him, regardless of gender. (Tho prior to Magnus I also think he just... wasn't interested, but that's a separate conversation.) He knew, however, that it was not allowed in his culture and it would hurt his family and not just him if it came out.
(This is why Izzy makes me so uncomfortable in s1 regarding Alec, tbqh, because she lives there too, but refuses to see the danger to herself and, more egregiously in Alec's mind, because obviously she can chose to risk herself for him if she wants, for all he doesn't like it, but she's causing risk for their little brother if Alec is outed, and that's unacceptable. Even if I'm quite sure Max would agree with her priorities.)
I do, however, think Alec felt a lot of shame regarding his attraction to Jace. Jace was hurting and was supposed to be his brother and yet... Alec felt an attraction that he knew Jace wouldn't return. So he's got all the societal pressure on him not to be gay, and all this personal pressure not to manipulate or abuse someone in a vulnerable situation (because Jace was, even if he wouldn't admit it), PLUS all the normal human issues with feeling attraction for someone who is important enough to you that you can't lose them, and you can legitimately be terrified that if you can't get it under control you MIGHT... (Even more so for him than a mundane romantic vs platonic situation, obviously, because there's questions of command and exile and punishment, not just ruining an interpersonal dynamic in a way it never quite recovers from.)
Plus Alec's kind of also Jace's commanding officer which is yet ANOTHER unequal power dynamic, and he's supposed to be protecting an entire Institute, not just this one person, but he can't stop thinking about it because it's fucked up and he knows he should stop and he can't.
(Because, he realizes with the benefit of hindsight after he meets Magnus, by fixating on Jace he was safe, he was never going to fall in love for real with someone he might have a chance with, would never have to actually choose between his culture and his personal desires, while still telling himself that he already had, that he'd chosen his family and it was fine, he was FINE.
(He was so not fine.))
And so, even though he truly believes there's nothing wrong with being gay in general, he does believes there is something Very Wrong with him specifically being gay.
But he still never has any doubt about it. He never tries to project heterosexual interest in anyone, is very up front with Lydia about the terms of their engagement. (It seems clear, even if we never see that conversation, that they're both aware that their marriage would never be romantic or sexual unless they mutually decided to go the so-called traditional route for children.) And she agreed to it! She, unlike Jace & Izzy, had zero illusions about her relationship with Alec, and I ADORE HER FOR THAT.
And I've totally lost the thread of this rambling, I'm not sure I have a conclusion for you? 😅😅😅
Alec is, imo, refreshingly self-aware about most things, and many of his issues are legitimately external stupidity punishing him into a life of self-recrimination rather than him having internal bigotry or biases against his own sexuality in and of itself.
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Really out of nowhere but I rewatched some of fma03 eps and im gonna rant
I'm just so done with smiling politely saying that fma03 and fmab are both great sorry i cant anymore. Just no
So if you in love with fmab im warning you it probably won't be a good read for you, so feel free to ignore this, block me or idk read this and give it a thought
0. I really dont understand the glorification of manga over anime adaptations. Like people who are making the adaptation are not artists and creators themselves? What makes mangaka better than others and absolutely indisputable, seriously?
1. 'Oh no long introduction and fillers' that actually allowed for Hughes' character development before his death. Seriously if i mention his death among my homies I'll get lots of faces clearly going through some ptsd level flashbacks, it was that impactful. I still need to take a breather when im rewatching before diving into that ep.
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2. Nina. Yet again got more time to grow on us and thus aquired higher trauma inducing levels.
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3. Ishval massacre and aftermath are WAY MORE VISIBLE in fma03. First of all Ishvalans are depicted as human beings, and not some background, and we get lots more on their sufferings, raids on camps, racism towards them, etc etc etc
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4. Scar. Oh boi how do i even go about this. So without raging much about that beefy obviously wrong dude who got 'sense' bitten into him and started working with the oppressing gov in fmab, we have a wronged and tormented survivor of a genocide, who was justified in his vengeance and rage, was depicted as an attractive person of color despite his antagonistic role and was seriously almost cheered on in his actions by the narrartive. His interactions with his people and his moral dilemmas made his character possibly the deepest and most thought out one in the series.
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5. The Rockbell doctors being killed by their own government. That's a waaaaay more interesting and damning detail on our government affiliated protagonists than just dumping their murder on a delirious patient.
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6. Homunculi had their own will and desires and a way more developed story arc that had a huge impact on protagonists' morals. Being created by the humans who were desperate to bring back their loved ones and both parties are getting tormented by it?? Characters strongly driven by their own goals and staggered by their relations to their creators vs some indifferent goons in fmab. Just compare Sloths and their impact on the stories and protags.
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7. Final conflict being a fight with god and his intricate plans in fmab, versus final battle vs a selfish pretty much usual person who had thrown everyone under the bus in pursuit of immortality. Adds so much more desperation flavor. Suddenly your hero journey doesn't end in epic battle for the sake of the mankind, as you would like it to be. It's just to oppose one awful person with too much power and zero care about anyone else. That's raw and that's way more plausible and relatable in our mundane lives.
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8. Overall darker tone and themes of the fma03.
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9. MUSIC. I dont remember a single track from fmab, but i went really out of my way in my teenage years to find internet access and pirate fma soundtrack and cry listening to it
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10. ART. Sorry but don't tell me fmabs flat colors are anything to 03's soft tones and lighting
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So yeah sorry, but I'll take the dark and gritty tragedy over just another shounen with doubtful messages each and every time
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g0ldgauntlet · 6 months
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I do not feel sympathy for Michaela Laws.
This is sort of a vent post (and likely the only post I'll ever make about Yansim since anything else I could say has probably been said by several other people), so feel free to scroll past this if you're not interested.
If you are, then proceed below. (Tw for grooming)
A few days ago, Michaela Laws resigned from her role as Ayano Aishi from Yandere Simulator after learning that its developer had groomed a minor. I want to first make clear that I am glad that she left, and she did the right thing by leaving. However, all I could keep thinking was one thing: Why did it take her this long?
So many people already knew about how horrible Alex Mahan (aka Yandere Dev) was. Surely someone must have told her-
Oh wait.
I found out that multiple people did, in fact, tell her about his past actions. Her response was to defend him, and then she doubled down on defending him when she was informed of the more current actions that Alex had committed at the time.
If you don't believe that's her, the post is still up on Tumblr via this reblog and here. Michaela knew about all of this as far back as 2017.
I find it most interesting that in these screenshots and posts, she referred to everyone who despised Alex as "anti-dev masses," and she ignored the things he said and did because she is, in her words, "an intellectual who can separate fiction from reality."
She even claimed that the people telling her that he treats women differently (which he does) are "sexist," even when said people told her that he very well could have hurt other people even if he was nice to just her.
The cherry on top of this is her unironic usage of the term "SJW," which tells me everything that I need to know about this. And you know what? Her saying in her resignation tweet that she still hopes that the game gets completed makes perfect sense to me now despite how out of place it feels compared to everything else. If she believes in separating fiction from reality, then she likely believed that she could still separate content from the creator.
In Alex's case, I strongly disagree with that notion, but what feels more contradictory is this other statement in the tweet:
I did not join to be a defender or arbiter of anyone's actions outside of the project.
However...That is literally what Michaela did. As I said, she defended Alex because of the "rumors" being spread about him.
She doesn't get to cry on Twitter about things turning out like this when she willingly claimed that Alex was only getting so much bad attention because "people don't like him."
She was the one who said "don't believe everything you hear." It was her who downplayed Alex's actions as "mistakes" or "accidents," and she claimed that he is "just a guy trying to make a game and be a game developer."
She doesn't get to backtrack now and pretend that she didn't knowingly defend Alex and stick by him for six more years after the making of that Tumblr post.
It took her six years and another minor after sisefs getting hurt for her to acknowledge what most people who knew about Yandere Simulator already knew about this man - That he is a terrible human being.
To be clear, I am not putting any blame on Michaela for what happened to the victims. I do not believe that she could have known about the current victim, or even the past one at the time of when the information came to light. Also, I do appreciate her giving support to all of the victims involved and correcting her previous statement since some (myself included) thought that she was perpetuating victim-blaming. However, that is as much benefit of the doubt that I could possibly give her. As for everything else? I cannot do that, and here's why:
It is my belief that she was well aware of what she was doing, and she either didn't see anything wrong with what Alex did or just didn't care until she finally realized how badly this all reflects on her now that Alex has been shown up-front once again to be an awful person (I also believe that this is connected to the backtracking in her resignation tweet as well).
Basically, my frustration comes from how far things had to get before she finally decided to denounce Alex and his actions.
She made her choice. Given that she previously claimed that she does not care about trying to look better and said that she would delete attempts to "sway" her about Alex, it seems clear that this was also the hill that she was willing to die on. Well, look where that got her. I cannot, for the life of me, understand how she didn't expect that a terrible person with a rightfully terrible reputation would end up doing something even more terrible, and that she was willing to ignore everything up until now. I don't understand how she didn't think that this would also negatively affect the game by association of the developer, but at this point, whatever happens to the game doesn't matter nearly as much as what Alex has done and likely will continue to do since it's been proven time and time again that he will never change as a person.
So no, I don't feel sympathy for Michaela Laws. I don't feel bad about her saying that she stuck with this game for almost ten years despite sticking up for Alex and sticking by him for six of those years. She did this to herself, and Yandere Simulator is probably something that she will be connected to for a long time since she is well-known as the voice of the game's main character. She could have left sooner, but chose not to and made it clear that she didn't want to until the truth had to be shoved right in front of her face.
So for that, Michaela only has herself to blame.
Edit:
I would like to add this Twitter thread that proves the point I was making here.
Michaela, three years after the Tumblr post I linked, straight up admits that she doesn't care about what Alex does, and she accuses a victim of Cryaotic (another groomer) of lying.
Even if Michaela apologized for the latter bit, it just goes to show that she was more than willing to ignore what people told her about Alex and still stand by him and the game.
This whole thing is a recurring trend with her. Had Alex not been exposed again, she probably would still be defending him even now.
She isn't sorry about being a part of the project at all.
And if she isn't sorry, then I don't feel sorry for her either.
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jupitersdescendant · 2 years
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hi guys and welcome to my second pac reading on here, yay!!
today’s topic: who are you at your core?
this time there are four piles you can choose from. here’s how it works: close you eyes and meditate on the question for a while. if you feel ready, open your eyes and choose the pile you feel the most drawn to. it’s possible, that you fell drawn to more than one pile. please remember that this is a general reading so only take what resonates. this is for entertainment purposes only. lastly, tarot is only a guide, nothing is set in stone and in the end its you who has the power over your own life.
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none of the pictures belong to me, the artist is Derek Penix.
Cards: eight of wands, death (rx), ace kf swords, seven of pentacles (rx), three of pentacles. back of the deck: king of swords (rx).
Cards: eight of wands, death (rx), ace kf swords, seven of pentacles (rx), three of pentacles. back of the deck: king of swords (rx).
Cards: eight of wands, death (rx), ace kf swords, seven of pentacles (rx), three of pentacles. back of the deck: king of swords (rx).
hi everyone! so my first impression is, that you’re a free spirit. you love excitement and trying new things. you could be prone to rush into things without thinking of the consequences or outcomes. you march to the beat of your own drum and don’t care what anyone else thinks (or at least you’re faking it very well). you probably already had some kind of spiritual awakening, that could’ve felt more like a tower moment, but helped you see through all the bs, that is out society ruled by greedy and selfish men. some of you may be strongly religious, while others of you are the polar opposite and might actually stay clear from anything related to that topic. either way, at your core you’re someone who values communication and always speaking ones truth. you especially adore intellectually stimulating conversations with your friends, since they are an important part of your life. you could have the tendency to give to much, so please stay aware of who you give your energy to and set some healthy boundaries. you don’t give much importance to money and/or material wealth. for a few of you, that is because you always had someone too provide for you, but for others it’s exactly the opposite, again. it’s interesting, that there are two such different sides coming through in the same pile. but yeah, some of you didn’t grew up under the best circumstances and without a lot of comfort or even safety at home. you all learned to find joy and appreciate the smaller things in life. you’re someone hardworking, who loves or literally hates teamwork (there’s those two sides again) and solving problems. you could also be very creative. i feel like you have a special talent, that you’re unaware of or that you’re afraid of exploring more. you might doubt your talents and work a lot, never really feeling like what you’re doing is good enough. i don’t mean to sound harsh but you really need to get over yourself, because you’re doing amazing sweetie! don’t worry if something isn’t perfect at the first try or the second or the third. if you’re giving your best, then that is all that matters and you can be proud of that. you are someone who tends to give their all to the people and things they’re passionate about. i see, that you still carry a lot of sadness in you, it’s easy for you to fall into a depressive state. but from the looks of it, you have worked on bettering yourself, so this doesn’t to happen too often anymore or you’re just able to deal with it easier. you have such an authentic vibe and energy which i love.
additional messarges: there’s a lot of air and earth energy coming through, you could have these placements in your astrological birth chart but you certainly don’t need to. this could simply be the vibe that best represents your core. air and earth are opposing elements, which i had to note, because we had those opposing sides in your pile. flying insects, especially butterflies and dragonflies could be of importance to you. they could be a sign from spirit, as well as angel number 1111. always trust your own judgment, guidance and intuition and stop overthinking every little detail. stay focused and don’t be afraid to walk your own path, but don’t feel the need to rush and simply move at your own pace.
let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤
Pile 2
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Cards: knight of wands (rx), knight of pentacles (rx), the pladain (rx), ten of cups, judgement. back of the deck: six of wands (rx).
just wanted to note, that the paladin is an additional card in the deck i was using, it’s called the botanica oculta tarot.
hello, everyone in pile 2!
i’m seeing, that transformation plays a huge role in your life. i know we’re talking about core qualities here, but constantly transforming is one of the biggest parts of you. always changing and growing and getting more sure of yourself through every transformation, no matter how hard it was. for a couple of you there was a time where you were desperately trying to find a partner so they could fill the void in you and give you the love you haven’t been giving to yourself. you definitely grew out if this energy though. pile 2, you definitely carry knight in shining armour energy, with multiple knights and the paladin coming out, the paladin being an upper class knight who has a very strong devotion to a cause. you have a special mission on this planet, of that i’m sure and it’s obviously a biiig part of who you are. you fight for what is right and are here to improve humanity. for a few that could mean on a bigger scale, like worldwide or something, but for the majority it will be in your own community. i see you bringing change and transformation, especially through your speech so be careful how you use your words since they carry a great power. you value peace and harmony a lot so it makes sense, that you want to fight for a bigger and better cause. you’re a very spiritual person with a strong intuition, some of you may even be psychic. many of you already know, that you have a bigger mission to fulfill on this planet, but you’re not quite there yet. there’s still some things, that need your attention and solving. your ego could be one of the most prominent blockages. you could also have a negative mindset, talk down on yourself too much and lack self worth. you’re afraid to fail so you won’t even try something new. my dears, all of that just won’t do if you want to be the change you want to see in the world (lol just quoting spirit here). you really need to work on your relationship with yourself and show yourself some more love. i’m seeing, that you’re a very guarded and cautious person, you barely let anyone come close enough to you. you carry a lot of depth which makes you intriguing and somewhat mysterious to others. i want you to show more of that depth though, since you’re a very wise person with important things to say. share your light. you are blessed with great strength and abundance.
additional messages: 222 might be a significant angel number to you. major arcana cards were generally more prominent, especially when i clarified and all this talk about a mission for sure gives me starseed vibes for a couple of you. try and establish a deeper connection to yourself and your personal truths, meditation might be helpful. in general, try looking at things from a different perspective than usual to help you find solutions to your problems. be willing to keep moving forward with purpose and draw on your divine energy for help.
let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤
Pile 3
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Cards: strength, five of cups, the lovers (rx), page of swords, six of cups. back of the deck: eight of wands (rx).
hi, pile 3!
the first thing i’m seeing is, that you’re truly a very strong person who can probably take on anything, though i still feel like you may lack confidence often. this strength didn’t come from nothing though, you’ve been through many hardships and especially your family life wasn’t the easiest. you’re very aware of all that is going on wrong in the world and feel a lot of sadness and hopelessness because of that (me too bro). this also causes you to feel lonely quite often. you have such a pure heart and dream of a better world. this is a little random, but you could be very cautious when it comes to romance and your love life might be kind of non existent. you’re somehow hopeless when it comes to love, not in the hopeless romantic way (i’m sure that still fits), but more in the way, that you think it’ll never find you, maybe even, that you don’t deserve it. this only stems from you not loving yourself enough! and how in the hell do you want to love somebody else if you can’t love yourself? self love is so very important, i know how hard it is, but you’ll feel so much better when you give yourself the love you deserve. pile 3, you’re so smart, a very intellectual person with a quick and active mind. you’re a great listener as well. people could come to you for guidance often, because you always know what to say and offer great advice. since you have such an active mind, you could tend to overthink a lot and experience anxiety quite often. you might enjoy reading a lot. it looks like you’re the type to use materialistic stuff to make you feel “better” about yourself, online shopping might be your thing. that usually happens when you feel stuck or when you’re plagued by negative thoughts. try to find some new coping mechanisms. online shopping isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but just be sure, that you’re not just wasting your money on things, that bring you happiness for a minute and that you never look at/use again. you love deeply and enjoy your peace a lot. you’re also quite nostalgic and like to reminisce about the good old times. you crave deep and soulful connections and i feel like you’ll be blessed with them in this life, wether platonic or romantic.
additional messages: you might feel more at home at night and are the type to stay up very late. theres a big possibility, that you have prophetic dreams so i’d definitely start to pay more attention to them. number 8 seems to be significant for you, if you see this number it could very well be a sign from spirit. spirit wants you to be more comfortable in your vulnerability and to always evaluate how something makes you feel, because if something’s the cause of bad feelings, then you need to find out why so that you can release these negative emotions. try to view situations, that are bothering you from every side and listen to your head and heart. balance is the key.
let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤
Pile 4
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Cards: the hanged man, page of wands (rx), nine of pentacles (rx), nine of cups, two of wands (rx). back of the deck: page of swords.
hello pile 4! you’re someone pretty special right? and people notice it, believe me. we’re talking about core qualities here, but you’re literally shining from the inside out. you have a very strong but welcoming and bright energy. reminds me of sunlight. you’re a very thoughtful person even though you might not always show that. i feel like you were on the “wrong path” for a while and invested your time and energy in things and people, that weren’t healthy for you. there’s currently been a lot of change in your life so it looks like you’re doing a lot better for that matter. you have a very free and childlike vibe and love to be active and go on adventures. you also tend to rush head first into things so please just be careful lol. spending time with your friends/people who truly get you is very important and energising for you. financial security seems to be very important to you and for a while, that was pretty much all you could think about. you could be a secret workaholic, though most of you probably know that. yk the type to work until they can barely function anymore, which you especially love to do when theres something weighing heavy on your mind, that you want to avoid. you’re definitely a person who gives their all to the people and things they care about. like fr, if you’d be a king/queen of narnia, then your name would be something like Pile 4: the Generous or maybe hero or some sh*t like that. please just don’t give too much of yourself and neglect your own needs. helping other people out gives you a very satisfying feeling and you probably don’t even think twice about doing it. you could very well be interested in any job where you can help people and make the world a better place, very similar vibes to pile 2 here. you’re most likely a little afraid of the unknown and sudden change and that’s why you often stayed in situations, that weren’t good for you. you were stuck for a long time, but there has been a rebirth or some kind of awakening for you and you’re quickly changing out of that old energy. your head might sometimes be too much for and can be a challenging place, so i beg you to be a bit more kinder to your thoughts and yourself. i still have noticed, that your mind is also a very curios and engaging place. you’re analytical and very witty as well.
additional messages: there’s such a divine and heavenly energy coming through and it kinda scares me, are you an angel for satan’s sake?? the angel number 999 carry’s a special meaning for you and idk but 13/31 as well. try to keep an open heart and mind as you move through life, gather more information and make your choices purposefully. meditation might be very helpful to you. strive to be more thoughtful and kinder to yourself.
let me know if it resonates! have a great day/night 🖤
🔮 thanks a lot for reading 🔮
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Thank you to the fabulous @that-cyber-writer for tagging me in this Writing Questions Tag Game! D.M. Foyle, as @that-cyber-writer is also known, is working on a nail-biting crime thriller entitled Tangled Wires starring Raz, a brilliant hacker on the run from the Russian mob. Interested? Go check out Tangled Wires and all of Foyle's projects here! I'm tagging (no pressure!): @inkovert @outpost51 @aquadestinyswriting @merlina87 @sarah-sandwich @lucianinsanity @winterandwords @threeking @avrablake @the-finch-address @thawinoakenshield @the-down-upside-finch @lunarmoment @sodaliteskull @kingkendrick7 @harps-for-days @cee-grice @tate-lin @rubywrite @poppy-in-the-woods @hippiewrites @the-down-upside-finch @lexiklecksi @linaket and anyone else who'd like to participate!
✦ What is your absolute all-time favourite idea you’ve ever had?
The one that inspired the novel I'm writing right now, The Sorcerer's Apprentice! Initially, I just wanted to explore the relationship between two individuals at completely polar opposite moments in life: one, an elderly character, preparing to die and looking back; and the other, a youthful character, just beginning to come into their own, in early adulthood, still figuring out who they are and what they believe in, facing forward. It would be a lie to say that the novel isn't still very much built around this dynamic, between the elderly sorcerer Valeriano and his young apprentice, Altaluna. But it's grown from the original idea to incorporate issues and topics I hadn't expected; climate change, environmental disaster, colonialism and neocolonialism, the body as a machine, contemporary theories of perception, abusive family dynamics, and more. These topics and their associated plot/world ideas are likewise what makes The Sorcerer's Apprentice my favourite written piece to date. It's like the more I dig, the more I enjoy what I'm doing. If the first idea was compelling but lukewarm, the accumulation of ideas that has ensued as I attempt to do the initial idea justice has taken it to the next level.
✦ Is there a question you’ve been asked that really stands out to you and that you still think about sometimes?
Not that I can think of off the top of my head! Sorry :S I wish I did.
✦ What is your favourite part of being a writer? What parts could you take or leave?
The trouble is, you can't have any of it without all of it, so this is a bit of a trick question, to which I don't really have a clear answer. I love it all. I hate it all. I struggle every step of the way. And I have the time of my life, always.
✦ What is your greatest motivation to write/create?
It's changed over the years! As a child, I just liked exercising my imagination. In my teens and early twenties, I wrote to escape or to envision the life I wanted, the person I wanted to be, and how I wanted to be perceived by others. Now, my greatest motivation is rage. I am one very pissed-off adult lol I suppose the difference is also that now I actually have something to say, something I feel is worth saying. And I feel that very strongly, which helps me get over the bad days at the desk where no words are coming or where I doubt my capacity to write at all. Because it doesn't matter. This -the message of my novel- has value to me. It's more important than my small personal feelings of insecurity or ups and downs. So I'll find a way. That's my motivation. It's not really that I want to write, it's that I have to. It's that I can't live in a world where this isn't said ~ and where it isn't said the way I'd like to say it.
✦ What is the best piece of advice you’ve ever read or been given as a writer?
The best advice I ever received was from a world-renowned author in his 90s who told me that it (writing) never gets any easier, so basically, your choices are either quit or keep going with the knowledge that it's never going to magically turn into a picnic, no matter how much experience/talent you have. I also got some lovely advice a couple years ago from (I think?) Anne Lamott in her writer's memoir Bird By Bird. In one of the chapters, she mentions that if you lack inspiration, you can always write to get your own back, aka. you can always write as a way to avenge yourself. And that just flipped a switch in my brain. I don't think I'd be writing The Sorcerer's Apprentice without that little seed she planted.
✦ What do you wish you knew when you were first starting out writing?
Nobody knows what they're doing. You'll never be more prepared than you are right this minute. But also, you have to live a little before you can know what you want to say ~ the same way you have to live a little to figure out who you are. Writing is organic. It grows with you. You have to let yourself grow, so the writing can follow.
✦ What is your favourite story you’ve written to completion? Link it if you’d like and can!
I don't have a favourite completed story to share, so I'm sharing a link to my current WIP, The Sorcerer's Apprentice, a fantasy novel exploring the interplay between colonialism, capitalism, and environmental catastrophe through the fraught relationship between a mysterious sorcerer and his protogé.
✦ Which of your characters would you say has the most controversial mindset? Why do you say so, and how do you personally feel about their ideals?
Valeriano, the antagonist of The Sorcerer's Apprentice, is the only character I've ever written whose views are absolutely despicable in almost every way. I'd be very concerned if my readers don't find his mindset controversial. The man is sexist, racist, and classist; he discriminates against any LGBTQ+ classification that isn't his own (biphobia, anti-lesbian, etc.), he's morally perverse, and he bristles with a sense of in-born superiority. In short, he represents the polar opposite of my own personal views and ideals.
✦ If you, when you first started writing, met you now, what would younger you think?
A younger me would definitely not recognise me, let alone understand why I'm writing what I'm writing. And that's how it should be! I'm glad little me enjoyed a time when all that mattered were unicorns and fairies, and the world was bright, open, and good. I wouldn't take that away from little me for all the world, not for anything. Plus, I have the lingering feeling that little me would be proud of me anyway. Even if she doesn't quite get it. She'd trust me and my choices. We'd be different, but we'd be cool, you know?
© 2024 The Sorcerer’s Apprentice. All rights reserved.
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maeve-on-mustafar · 1 year
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Does anyone other than me remember that time in Legends comics that everyone else thought Obi-Wan was dead, so Anakin temporarily became Ki-Adi-Mundi's Padawan?
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For context: Anakin has just woken up from a nightmare where he saw both his mom and Obi-Wan begging for him to save them, and decided to work on his starfighter instead of sleeping. (I love this repeated theme in the Star Wars movies and media that Anakin just doesn't sleep. Somebody get this boy some melatonin.)
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I do find it interesting that while Anakin has lingering doubts about Obi-Wan's death, and Ki-Adi-Mundi has doubts about Obi-Wan's potential survival, there's still a tentative rapport between them. Ki-Adi admits that he struggled with attachments and the loss of his family. Anakin confides that he doesn't know to trust himself or not, especially with the specter of Obi-Wan lingering in his mind.
And I really like that Ki-Adi is like, "Yeah, that's natural. You might be talented, but you're still really young. You're not supposed to have it all figured out. Give yourself a break and go to bed." I like that he offers Anakin compassion and recognizes that Anakin is having a rough time.
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This is right after Anakin has a vision of Obi-Wan's survival (while almost dying in the process of blowing up a huge fucking pirate ship) and right before he races off to rescue him.
From Mundi's perspective, he's got to think Anakin is a total lunatic. He's not entirely wrong, but I appreciate how worried he seems for him.
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Lol. I don't entirely think that Ki-Adi knew what he was getting into when it comes to training Anakin, but I do like that the Jedi Council was aware that Anakin needed some kind of connection with a Master after losing Obi-Wan, instead of instantly promoting him to Knight.
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Oh, Ani. 🥺 He's so worried for Obi-Wan!
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I see a lot of recaps of this issue describing the end as Ki-Adi being glad to get rid of Anakin, but I think that's an overly harsh reading. I think he just recognized that Anakin was overjoyed to have Obi-Wan back, and was probably a bit weirded out that Anakin had bonded so strongly with Obi-Wan that he could sense his survival when none of the older or wiser Jedi could. I do wonder about the conversations about Anakin that were had between members of the Council after all of this wrapped up.
That being said, this was an interesting exploration of Anakin as another Jedi's Padawan, however temporary, and I'd love to see Disney come out with a "what-if" comic along these lines, with Anakin perhaps training with Adi Gallia or Yaddle or another Jedi Master.
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cadybear420 · 3 days
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Cadybear's Reviews- It Lives Beneath
Welcome to the fourteenth official Cadybear's Reviews post! Today I'll be talking about It Lives Beneath, which I have ranked on the "Diamond Tier" at 10 stars out of a possible 10.
Like with its predecessor, there’s not much to say on it that hasn’t already been said by everyone else. It’s amazing all the way through. 
Funny how we get ILITW right after OG HSS, and then ILB right after HSS:CA. Love to see the first two MC-switch stories be released next to each other, just as their predecessors were. 
Unlike HSS:CA though, this one was strongly written and actually relevant to its previous iterations. Not to mention, it actually had a meaningful reason to have only minimal usage of its previous installment’s characters when switching MCs– being that it takes place in a completely different locational setting from Westchester and Westchester High. There’s even one recurring returning character that’s actually heavily relevant to the story, and even outside of the returning character, the smaller cameos of the past characters are actually kind of meaningful to the story. 
Bringing back Tom to be a love interest for the new MC was especially a smart move, as it helps solidify the connection between the two books and we get to expand on his character a bit more. Not to mention he’s an amazing love interest too. Like, that part in their lake day premium scene where MC can win a giant stuffed teddy in the carnival game and Tom gets upset when he didn’t win one because he wanted to put a giant teddy in his passenger seat so he could go into the carpool lane??? And then you can have MC give him the teddy???? Yeah, I’m obsessed. 
But even outside of the characters and cast utilization, Beneath as a whole holds up really well to Woods. The nerve scores come back of course, because it wouldn’t be It Lives without nerve scores. And not only that, but they vastly improved it from ILITW’s nerve score system too. 
In Woods, the only real consequences of low nerve are the fates of the characters in one chapter. There are a couple of nerve checks midway through the book, where the characters will talk about how they’re currently feeling. But you don’t see any real consequences and hardcore effects until Chapter 15. 
Beneath, on the other hand, had a nerve score system that was much more complex and fleshed out. Not only does it account for a group nerve score, which affects if anyone even dies at all, but there’s also a variety of potential consequences spread out through the chapters rather than all the fates concentrated into one chapter. Stuff like whether or not Parker will shoot Kelley and then leave the group, whether or not Danni would sell out to Astrid’s temptations, whether or not Tom would save MC from getting their finger bitten off, whether or not Imogen could stop her mom from taking her Power, all take place at certain moments throughout the later chapters and really emphasize the sense of danger our characters are in. 
And they remember these other outcomes too later on. Whether or not Imogen will be able to keep her power, affects whether she’ll be able to recruit zombified Diavolos or whether MC will remember the incantation to take someone’s Power (they’ll have a bit of trouble with it if Imogen’s able to keep her powers, because she cut off her mom in the middle of the incantation!). 
It’s this level of attention to detail that, while it’s easy to say OG HSS > HSS:CA, I’m having a harder time deciding which of the two It Lives books is better. I personally preferred Woods because I found the MC more flexible, their necessary background better established, and the characters much more compelling. But in terms of how fleshed out the lore and nerve score system is, it pales in comparison to Beneath, without a doubt. I plan to go a lot more in-depth about this in a separate “ILITW vs ILB” post. 
Overall, ILB does a great job with its story and with continuing the franchise. While I love that we got fans to make the third part of the anthology (and said third part does a lot of things that not even PB’s best works could even think of doing), PB should still be ashamed of themselves for canceling the sequel to this.
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vampi-fixx · 2 years
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honesty
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devilman crybaby; akira fudo x reader; 1.5k; fluff; miscommunication + hardcore pining
akira has to be honest with you. he wasn't really pretending.
Akira had always been by your side since you were children, seeming more like another limb than a separate person—when you moved, he moved. When he cried, you were always there to wipe his tears away, to reassure him that you didn’t think any less of him for his gentle disposition.
Even when his mysterious transformation happened, and he filled out, looking less like a boy and more like a hardened man, things hadn’t changed. If possible, he seemed even more attuned to you. His newfound confidence made him bolder, more direct about his own wants and desires—which apparently, centered mostly around staying right where he always was, by your side.
He wasn’t the only one affected by his shift however. Akira’s forward personality made you terribly aware that your feelings for him were more than just that for a close friend.
You liked Akira, you always had. But if before his timid hesitance prevented you for bridging that gap between friends and something more, now the matter was his devilish new appearance attracting the attention of every girl within a ten mile radius.
But now you could be selfish. You could indulge in all the things you only dreamed about. Because now—
“I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend."
He paused, his story about another one of the illicit schemes Ryo entangled him in dying on his lips. Your gaze was trained on the river flowing beneath the deck the two of you were seated on, the small waves drawing ripples in your reflection. Your tongue felt heavy with the weight of your words; they were hard enough for you to voice. You didn't want to see his reaction. You didn't think know what to do if he said no—
“Alright." His answer came as easy as the breeze that drifted past your bodies, ruffling your clothes. When your head shot towards him, he grinned. “Can I start now?”
No questions asked. You were foolish to doubt him for even a second; of course, when it came to you, he would agree to anything. But he fit into the role almost too seamlessly. He held your hand in public like he was proud to, liked to sneak in sloppy kisses to your cheeks whenever you were focused on a task, and his full-bodied hugs became a constant in your life.
You liked being his significant other, so much so that you never mentioned when your creepy coworker stopped leering at you and trying to meet up with you despite your obvious lack of interest. You never told Akira that he didn't have to pretend anymore. (When he’d found out about the guy though of course he'd been pissed.
“Why didn’t you let me talk to him?”
“Mm, because last time you talked to some guy bothering Miki, he ended up in the hospital.”
He frowned. "Not like he wouldn’t deserve it.")
You wanted to live in this moment for as long as you could. It felt right—doing things your heart had always yearned for, being with him under the thin guise of a favor, without fear of repercussion. But all good things came to an end, and so did the day when the reality of your situation became too much for even you to ignore.
It was a dream. In it, you and Akira were sitting on the bridge, the same spot you’d first made the request of him. But it felt so real, Akira's eyes a soft brown glow, the sunset's rays catching on the tips of his hair, as he told you he’d never felt so strongly about anyone else, that he didn't want to feel this strongly about anyone else. He leaned forward, the distance between your lips seeming to span miles. Just as he kissed you, your eyes flew open and you were staring up at the ceiling of your bedroom.
It wasn't real. But what was real was the reverberating ache in your chest. Your eyes stung, and you furiously rubbed at them. You'd been lying to him, and to yourself, for god knows how long.
You loved Akira, you couldn't deny it any longer. But would he still like you once this was all over? Once you admitted that the last few months were a ruse, and you’d been using him for your own gain?
You weren't certain. But the idea that he wouldn't terrified you.
You texted him; you’d never been good at keeping secrets from one another, and the guilt was chipping away at your resolve.
When the two of you met up, Akira's grin faded once he saw the grim look on your face.
"Look Akira, I'm sorry, but I can't... we can't do this—” You gestured between your bodies "—anymore."
His demeanor changed instantly. His tone was measured, cautious. “Why not?”
“I.. it's not fair to me or you."
“You don't need me—” He paused, seeming to catch himself. “You don't need a boyfriend anymore?"
“Y-yeah...” You didn’t have the heart to tell him that you’d been clinging to things you couldn’t have. "I don't. I... haven't. For awhile now."
The silence between you stretched across valleys.
Akira broke it first, as always. He was always the one to reach out. “But...”
Here it comes.
“But you never asked me if I wanted it to be over.”
Your eyes widened. “I...”
“Look, I... Shit, this is coming out all wrong.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to go back to the ways things were...” he trailed off, his expression curling into a frown.
Your heart clenched. This was the worst you’d expected. He didn’t even want to be friends anymore.
“I see. I-I understand." You took a shaky breath. "Sorry for wasting your time." You made to move past him, but his hand reached out to stop you.
“Wait." Now Akira was the one who sounded confused. "I don’t think you do—"
“I know it was really selfish of me to ask you in the first place. And to... to keep this going on for so long.” Your voice wavered, and you couldn’t meet his gaze. Gosh, were you really going to cry right now? It was ironic; usually you were the one comforting him. How the roles had changed.
“No—wait. Stop, (Y/N), stop. That’s not what I’m—"
"Bye, Akira. I'm sorry for lying to you." You bowed your head, dipping past him—that is, if his arm didn't shoot out to grasp your shoulders. He drew you into a fierce hug, the kind that had your breath catching. You stilled, your heart pounding loud enough you were sure even he could hear.
“I’m not mad about anything, you dummy.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft. “I’m saying...” He held you closer to him. You could feel the way his own heart was pounding, the way his hands trembled around your shoulders.
“Pretending to be your boyfriend is the easiest thing I’ve ever had to do. And I don’t want to stop.”
Your eyes widened. "Akira—"
“I’m in love with you,” he said, pulling back from you. “I didn’t mind if you wanted me to pretend to be your boyfriend. I was glad to play along. I thought I’d be fine with just that, but I can’t do it anymore. I’m not okay with just pretending anymore! I—”
His gaze met yours, his eyes intense but vulnerable. “I want to be yours, for real.”
You blinked rapidly, your lips parting. Akira shifted from one foot to the next, your lack of response beginning to worry him. His brow furrowed.
“Have you ever... thought about us before? Together?" he asked, hesitant.
You shook your head rapidly, before realizing what kind of answer you were giving. “O-Of course I have!”
“Yeah?” He gave you a tentative smile, a crooked upturn of his lips, that had cracks forming in the walls around your heart. "And did you..." He cleared his throat. "Did you like the idea?"
“I... I was so worried about ruining this," you said in a rush. You flushed, burying your face in his chest. "About ruining us. I was worried you'd hate me, and—and we couldn't be friends anymore—"
"Why would I ever hate you?" he murmured, rubbing circles into your back. "You know how much you mean to me." He brought you even closer to him, resting his chin atop your head. "You could never ruin anything."
“Oh...” Your voice muffled into his shirt. "Oh." It was then that you realized: Akira really, truly loved you. Akira wasn't mad. Akira was just as happy that this had all happened...
"God," you groaned. All that worrying was for nothing.
His laughter rumbled against you. Your face felt even warmer and you wanted to keep hiding it from him. How embarrassing... That is, until Akira's hand went from rubbing your back to stroking through your hair.
"Hey. Hey, look at me."
You glanced upwards. Time seemed to slow as Akira's hand slid from the top of your head until cupping your cheek, tilting your face towards him. His thumb traced from your chin to the bottom of your lips as he inched forward. His lips pressed against you earnestly, carefully, as if he was savoring it. His lips were chapped, and moved a bit clumsily against yours, but they were thorough—like he was mapping out every inch of you.
When the two of you parted, he grinned before resting his forehead against yours. “Been wanting to do that for awhile."
"Wh—Why didn't you then?" you asked, your gaze half-lidded.
He raised a brow, his grin turning devilish.
“Wanted our first kiss to be a real one.”
"And this? This is as real as it gets," he said, before leaning in for another one.
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