#except i hate telling people that directly
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now i’m kinda curious to hear what you think of proshipping.. if you don’t mind of course
I'll share my thoughts, and if theres anything I say that doesnt make sense feel free to point it out to me because I mostly write with the help of a translator. Under the cut because I wrote too much stuff.
TLDR: proshippers hate me because I dont want to look at glorified depictions of pedophilia/incest/etc, antis hate me because my content isnt 100% sanitized. I stay around anti circles because I find it slightly easier for me to talk about my headcanons with them even though I think they can be insufferable.
So the thing about proshipping. From what I've seen it means being "anti-harassment" and being in support of curating your online experience, which sounds great on paper and that's practically what I do. I have over 3k accounts blocked on my personal twitter to navigate the website more easily and I also dont care if someone blocks me if they dont like my stuff.
Except proshippers never consider me a proshipper because I am uncomfortable with viewing glorified depictions of topics like pedophilia, incest, rape, all that stuff. The same way people are uncomfortable with excessive blood and gore (which I also can't really handle seeing). Whether or not it's always easy to tell if it's glorified is an entirely different topic, which is precisely why I stay away from all depictions in general to avoid being intrusive.
And what's interesting is that I do not label myself an "anti". Mainly because I don't even know what the term "anti" is supposed to mean ("anti-" what exactly. Genuinely please tell me because I actually dont know) But the ones who label themselves "proship" always call me an anti, because again I do not wish to engage with content related to pedophilia etc, and that alone apparently enough to be considered "a person who harasses others over fiction" even if I mind my own business and have no interest in forcing my personal tastes on others, especially if they make it clear that they wont change their mind. Which makes me believe that for a lot of self-identified proshippers, the definition of being "proship" would be more similar to "I love fucked up stuff and if you dont then youre lame and it obviously means you can't tell the difference between fiction and reality" which honestly seems like insecurity to me.
Forgive me for bringing up this up once again but I want to mention an example to make it easier for me to explain: yknow the whole thing with me drawing Minori and Reigen and labelling it "non-cp" which caused a wave of both self-identified antis and proshippers harassing me over that (I'll say that proshippers were more bold about it since the antis harassing me were all anonymous). Proshippers saw me saying "I dont ship that" and interpreted it as me being defensive and in denial, as if I said "guys I swear Im an anti !!! please dont think im a proshipper !!! ", when I meant "I dont want to discuss this with others in a shipping manner because thats not how I see it and I dont want to enter a space Im not comfortable with"
I admit I responded to this situation in a petty manner, but this was after several days of harassment done directly in my inbox and publicly (sometimes I wish yall remembered that group chats and priv accounts exist). My point is that simply saying you don't like seeing pedophilia in fiction is enough for proshippers to believe it's justified for them to harass you over it (and I'm fully aware they'll say it's not harassment, only when antis and "puriteens" do this to them then it's harassment)
Now about the anti side. Don't get me started on them either. If proshippers see me as an enemy then this must mean that I always get along with the ones who call themselves "antis" (I do not). Note that Im only talking about adults here, I dislike beefing with children and I think their feelings about this are entirely reasonable (I'll elaborate on this when talking about internet safety)
But anyways. I think a lot of adults are discourse-brained and do way too much. Im thinking of nonsense like "this ship is problematic because they are 'sibling-coded' so thats basically incest" "siblings giving each other a hug gives me proship vibes" things of that nature. And you're not allowed to do anything that even has the smallest possibility of being interpreted as "problematic", because then they'll harass you for it, and if you clarify your intentions, they expect you to apologize for "misleading" them because clearly they didnt do anything wrong by making assumptions about you.
There's almost no room allowed for creativity with them, everyone has to follow fanon because they consider it canon, if you ever want to try something other than the same boring domestic fluff then it's "too much" (and not even platonic affection is acceptable to draw in certain cases). Which is incredibly fucking boring to me who wants to see different types of content. People even said I was enjoying incest for drawing Reigen selfcest, and that I was "making others uncomfortable" by drawing it. Genuinely seems to me that they only care about moral superiority, that they never think about anything in depth, and I dont think they realize that it also shows in what they create: boring and repeated fanart and headcanons where the only thing you can say about it is "thats cute", nothing more because you saw it ten billion times already. You cant draw two people showing platonic affection that absolutely nobody would bat an eye if it happened in real life, you cant discuss something specific in more depth without people saying you have a fetish for it, and then they'll harass you based on their speculation that it's a fetish. I dont think many realize this, but fandoms are full of autistic people, so it's normal to see people who are interested in very specific things that dont make sense to others! I wish people were less judgmental, but at the same time I dont care if people think Im weird. I think what I mean is theres no reason to mistreat weird people who do no harm to others.
So yeah if you call yourself an "anti" I'll assume youre spend too much time engaging in fandom discourse and you're the type of person to believe that fanart where two people are holding hands is the equivalent to drawing them fucking each other. Which I think is a very childish mindset to have and it's worrying that many adults think this way. I also think that as an adult they should be capable of blocking stuff they hate instead of constantly arguing with people online because at this point it's just mental torture.
The thing about internet safety I mentioned earlier, I'd say this is the one thing that I'll always prioritize discussing whenever proship discourse comes up.... To put it simply: filter and limit the visibility of your content, do not put triggering stuff in the main tags, stay in your own circles. Whether or not you believe fictional rape/pedophilia/etc is bad is irrelevant, my point is that these are objectively triggering topics and should be filtered just like how there are warnings for violence and blood even if it's not real.
"But it's the parents' responsibility to control what kids look at online, this has nothing to do with me!" and I agree with the parents being the ones Primarily responsible. However the reality is that children are online and there's nothing you can do to stop it from happening. Kids will also enter spaces theyre not allowed in, theyre children and children are rebellious especially teenagers, I was like this as a teenager too. You'd be lying if you said you were always obedient since childhood and never did anything you were told Not to do. And you can't really expect teenagers to always block and not interact if they see something triggering. It's your responsibility to block them if they interact with you, because what I see most of the time is adults bickering with teenagers who are uncomfortable, calling them "puriteens", putting them on blast and allowing other adults including NSFW accounts to dunk on them.
Humiliating and degrading teenagers does not "teach them a lesson", it only makes the teenager more stubborn and reactive. Adults must accept that kids will always find their way in there even if your content isnt easily accessible. So I think it's stupid to feel offended at a child because they got upset when they found upsetting content like how any normal child would react. Which is why I wish more adults would keep blocking without saying anything petty to provoke teenagers.
Before someone pancake-waffles me and says "so youre fine with antis doxxing people" no I do not support doxxing. Ive been doxxed so I know it sucks. However the only times Ive seen it go this far is after continuous arguing because nobody knows when to stop. Im not saying this applies all the time nor am I saying doxxing is fine, but there are ways to minimize this sort of outcome as much as possible. Both sides have doxxed people over petty arguments that couldve easily been avoided if they just blocked each other and moved on.
The topic above (internet safety) is probably the only thing related to this where Im actively telling others what they should be doing. It's not only teenagers who are triggered by depictions of pedophilia etc but also adults like myself. In my case Im old enough to block content I dislike without saying a word, however I cant help but think that there's not enough being done about filtering especially when I do not search for this type of content and I still see it all the time.
I also think it's important for me to mention that I have a very poor sense of morality. I do not have a personal moral code that I adhere to, and I mostly stick to the basic universal ones that make sense to me. So I will not discuss the "morals" of consuming this stuff because I am not adequate to share an opinion on this, and I know the most popular topic of discussion related to proship discourse is morality which I frankly find counterproductive. I dont understand why people should care so much if I find something morally correct or not, unless it's to make themselves feel better about having a "superior opinion" to mine. Though I will say that if a man tells me he's into rape "but only in fiction!" then I dont think it will stop me of imagining myself bashing his skull repeatedly with large rocks. Maybe Im too mistrustful of men in general.
Final point I want to clarify is that I am not trying to assert some sort of superiority over people by disliking both sides, like saying "Im not an anti or a proshipper Im a Normal person" or something like that, and Im not expressing a "neutral" stance on the topic of fiction's influence on reality either. There are topics like racism and orientalism in fiction that Im vocal about (which is expected since Im Algerian). I genuinely believe there are many things that are interesting to discuss and should be prioritized, but too many people are chronically online, subjective and defensive, at this point I dont even think it's accurate to say that disliking one side automatically means you support the other side regarding fiction. To me, "proship discourse" is not about the debate of the effects of fiction on reality, censorship in media, etc. It's about everything I described earlier that happens online.
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they hate sniper for his complete disregard for skin care and appearance 😔
I mean. The bloke puts some thought into his appearance—he tucks his shirt in. And speaking as a man, tucking in your shirt is entirely a formality and appearance thing. Tucked is more formal than untucked, so it looks more professional. There is legitimately NO reason to tuck in a shirt except for formality and appearance. Tucking it serves no practical purpose. Also he wears an undershirt, which isn't necessary except that wearing flannel directly on skin is seen as informal. So he actually puts a lot of thought into his formality and appearance.
No one needs a 5-step skincare routine. The presence of wrinkles and sun damage does not mean someone doesn't take care of themselves and it doesn't mean they don't care about their appearance. Don't get me started on how too many people think that Sniper dresses informally/doesn't take care of himself just because of his dress which is perfectly normal AND FORMAL in his cultural/class background. I will beat some classist arse.
Anyway imo you can tell the days when Sniper is having a depressive episode because his gig line isn't straight (he couldn't be arsed to fix it) and his shirt isn't perfectly tucked in the way it usually is. ← Projecting
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this post is scheduled a far bit out so you can’t tie me to a date and long enough out that i’ll forget about it and not take it down before it goes up (bonus points if i’m not on here when we hit the scheduled time) because i can’t be trusted to just be helpful once in a while when doing so involves being honest with people who are determined to make that difficult and painful but protip; hey is that comment i made kinda off? did i say something oddly argumentative? does doing what i just did seem awfully out of character for me? do i seem like i’m trying to piss you off and being weirdly cryptic about it? Do I care about something I really have little reason to, like you struck a nerve on something i have no position to be making a comment about? Did I start something with only an infinitesimal amount of wiggle room to claim plausible deniability?
Well might i introduce you to: ✨ critical thinking ✨
If you, person i know, are sitting there going “why the hell would he do that?” then my top recommendation, much to my own chagrin (and ultimate self loathing; for i’m in a “hey maybe i should open up to people a bit” mood but i’m not exactly someone people give a shit about routinely so this would be out of place to say to people straight up; and i will later resent myself for giving away some of my best tactics so readily), would be to ask “hey this is odd, is something up?” If you’re not in the mood to deal with my shit (fair point; no one really ever is), you are always welcome to tell me to fuck off.
Why, you ask? Well, most readily, i’m an asshole. Unfiltered, I am an asshole. “But you value that filter immensely, where did it go?” you make a fair point, me asking the disembodied questions. I do value that filter immensely, and it’s not gone, it’s very much there, what I said was a choice, and a self detrimental one at that. “What’s self detrimental about that?” Well it annoyed, frustrated, or pissed off the other person, didn’t it? It made them not want to deal with me - maybe even made them say it real clearly (see above point about fucking off for clarification on what this could mean)?
For someone who is constantly effortfully avoiding being a burden on others (while low key wanting someone to care) yet has a lot of people relying on them, isolating myself is difficult. Yes, I can easily bank on no one asking about me, that’s a given, but i really can’t bank on others not coming to me with something about themselves. So if i want to be left alone without people questioning why, the answer that has worked very well thus far is simple: don’t ask them to leave you alone; get them to ask you to leave them alone. Make it their choice. Don’t push them away, make them push you away so that they think you’re just doing them a favour and respecting what they’ve requested.
“Okay but also why the absolute living fuck would you do this?” Again, great question, me asking the disembodied questions. It’s a bit of a combination of reasons. the one you try to tell yourself is that it’s for their benefit; if you put them in a position where it is more than reasonable to not be doing anything and to not want to be there at that time, then you can’t be let down by them. Put them in a position where it’s Your Fault that they don't try, and you don’t have to worry about them refusing to try of their own volition.
Secondly, being vulnerable with people who have left you hanging and have deeply fucked you up as a result is hard and painful. And we can avoid having the opportunity for that vulnerability, let alone for them to respond poorly to it, if we detach ourself from them. And additionally, we can avoid resenting their indifference-at-best or their dedication to dropping you on important things if we don’t give them a chance to be there.
“But that doesn’t really answer why you would do this. Like what’s the situation in which you would do this, not the theoretical self ascribed value of it?” I gotta say, me asking the disembodied questions, you are absolutely crushing it today, this is why i love you, this questioning is sublime, you really care about getting to the root of it and you be picking up on the minor deflections and you are not having it; very well played. Of course the details vary but in short: something is up. Like Mr Mulaney said to whom we can only assume is Al Pachino, “I’m not feeling too good, dog.” If they know something happened, it might be that, there could be more to it that they don’t know about. or more likely, there are whole other things that i’ve not spoken about At All. If you, person i know, find yourself in this situation, i think the first point of consideration is simply; what do you know about me in relation to the present moment? Do you know what’s currently bothering me (if you answer yourself, then you do NOT know what’s bothering me)? Do you know what things are going on that are taking a toll on me? Are the only things you know about conceptual? Do you know about any active, existent, tangible, pressing issues or concerns?
And secondly to consider; have i been pulling away? And as established, do you know what it looks like when i do? Have you been pushing me away? Did i orchestrate that (bonus points if i did it by being right about something to make it less obvious)? Have you actually heard about me recently? Do you know where I am during this conversation if it is by phone or text?
When I feel like hell I’m not likely to give myself the chance to be further hurt - even if that means destroying the chance to receive support. I hate gambling with my wellbeing. The odds have to be mighty fine or i have to be doing damn well for me to be willing to do that. Being alone hurts less than being denied help again and again and again.
This isn’t a call to action, it’s an explanation. “yeah but i don’t want to deal with you when you’re being an asshole, idc why you’re doing it” I know. That’s why i do it. I prefer to blame myself than someone else. I prefer it be my fault.
tldr; if i’m being weirdly argumentative out of seemingly nowhere then in my own self destructively masochistic way i’m trying to protect you by ensuring you don’t have the chance to fuck things up as i am aware that i’m trending downwards and don’t want to negatively impact you by removing you from the situation before i feel worse, while also avoiding too great of suspicions by making it seem like the distance was your choice or desire alone rather than mine.
tune in next time to learn about my impressive ability to deflect questions and avoid answering things - and how this isn’t because i don’t want to discuss the topic at hand, but rather the opposite!
#this is the first of 6 of these#i'm going to forget about these#i'm pretty sure i'm busy at the scheduled time#but i'll be surprised if i let more than two of these go up#a lil 'how to' for dealing with me#except i hate telling people that directly#because if they know the playbook and still watch me fall through the cracks#then there's no benefit of the doubt left to give#this is for someone specific but if you think it's you then it's probably not#mine#i should probably tag these as a group in some way#uhhh group
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eeuuaghh i would like everyone to know that i apologise if i have not responded to your reblogs/mentions/posts on tumblr, i have really terrible social anxiety and for some reason people talking to me makes my nervous system think i'm being hunted for sport by a resident evil boss. sorry if i havent responded i'm not being rude i'm just having a panic attack :P
additionally: social anxiety is actually the reason why a lot of my old posts from late 2022 had weird spacing and spelling mistakes. i was too anxious to type properly
#sorry this seems like a random thing to post but it has been bugging me for a little bit now and i want to post it#and by a little bit i mean the entire time i've been on this website#as for the reason i have social anxiety: i went to a really terrible high school full of dangerous people-#-who were literally like. the worst most bigoted people ever. not everyone there was bad of course but 90% of them were-#-and that stunted by social development by 5-6 years and now every time someone talks to me i feel like i'm about to get murdered#also primary school was. bad. the other kids could sniff out the autism in me and didn't like me for it#this post isn't directed towards anyone specifically but also it kinda is because there's a DM from someone-#-that i haven't responded to in literally 8 months and every time i think about it i get anxious#i'm sorry!!! i'm not trying to ignore you on purpose and i want to say something but my brain literally will not let me out of fear :(#i'm not used to getting talked to directly so every time i do my entire nervous system starts screaming and running in circles#it's kinda ridiculous because it's like. come on. why are you having a panic attack over a message on tumblr it's LITERALLY just words on-#-a screen what are you freaking out about. but also it's like hhhhh unfamiliar social situation scary. help.#unrelated to that but i am very worried about what people will think of me and like i know i really shouldn't worry about that-#-because i can't control what other people think of me and it really shouldn't be any of my or their business. but also-#-i have legitimate trauma that backs my fears up and every time someone is even slightly critical towards me my brain just goes-#-''see? it happened again i TOLD you it would happen again. idiot. you shouldn't have said anything''#and then i hide and cry and lay in bed thinking about how i'm going to die until i suddenly snap out of it and think-#-''wait hang on why should i care. i love being a weirdo on the internet why should i let my anxieties stop me''#and then it happens AGAIN and it's just a viscous cycle at that point#be silly on the internet -> detect slight criticism -> think everyone hates you again -> go back on your bullshit after 3 days of crying#and it makes sense because that exact same pattern happened to me countless times as a child.#be silly in school -> get made fun of for it -> get hated for it -> rinse and repeat until you think everyone is dangerous and they hate yo#if i could put it in a metaphor it would be like me being a little rabbit who thinks everyone is a scary wolf because of their big shadows-#-even though they're all also rabbits and i'm just paying attention to the scariest parts of them because i only know what wolves look like#trauma does fucked up things to your psyche lemmie tell you#social anxiety#anxiety disorder#i'm literally the ''too scared to order food'' stereotype except it's not a stereotype because it's real and every time i look at the 7/11-#-at my campus i go ''hm but what if they hate me for the food i buy there'' even though they're LITERALLY SELLING IT what is WRONG with me#anyway um. social anxiety sucks and i don't mean to not reply ro everyone who talks to me i am sorr y
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Quite honestly, i think people just dont like to acknowledge how many times i have been victimized bc it doesnt work for their narrative of the Scary Bad Trans Guy With No Regard For Others And Likes To Kick Puppies And Doesnt Know Real Pain Or Trauma
#bc otherwise yall would have to feel bad about putting me through way more additional unnecessary trauma on here#and i swear its yall who believe everything my abuser says about me. you need to tell yourself its true that i did the shit they accuse me#of and theyre just this pure uwu innocent pewson who doews no wongg umu#yall dont wanna except ive been through hell bc then you gotta accept youve put me through additional unnecessary hell that only warped my#perception worse of a community i thought i was fuckin part of and accepted in but apparently tf not#like you only have yourselves to blame for that shit. for why i hate online queer spaces now.#man it would just suck so so hard for your narrative if i was actually abused as much as i say and my abusive x was actually lying about me#bc otherwise how will you pretend trans men never ever experience any issues ever?#like i dont need to look. ik im one of the main blogs yall like to target and put on blast for transandrophobia stuff bc im super fuckin#outspoken about my shit (nevermind that yall never directly confront me). i already know thats how it is bc theres ppl on here who have a#apparently deep interest in constantly hating me and trying to find reasons im wrong. so when i say something is bad they habe to act like#its good actually somehow. and ik it all roots back to my abuser. there is literally no other reason i can think of that would mame ppl#that invested in hating me unless they believe everything my ex says. so undoubtedly theres ppl in my exs spaces who believe#transandrophobia is fake men arent oppressed ever etc etc. i digress. but ik its yall who've propped this whole shit up#ik its yall who put me on blast for this first and triwled to spread it that i was one of the Big Bad Names in the transandrophobia spaces#so ik yall use me as an example. ik you tell people i lie about everything. ik you tell people i exaggerate. ik you tell people im crazy#ik you tell ppl they cant trust me or rely on me and spread all the bs my ex says about me and even spreads their abuse toward me further#by even doing that shit. yall NEED to keep believing that im the Big Bad Trans Guy that you think i am bc otherwise your whole worldview#falls tf apart. everything you've been standing on online about how trans mascs who believe in transandrophobia are bad would fall apart.#if i am really as fuckin abused and victimized as i say. suddenly you dont get to use me as the example for Bad Transandrophobia Believer#and I KNOW thats the only reason yall choose not to listen or believe us. its LITERALLY just because you're choosing a side in a personal#relationship situation. ik it has nothing to do with politics for plenty of you. you're taking a side and shitting out reasons for why you#did after the fact.#if you really care about politics n shit you should listen to ALL THE OTHER TRANS MEN TALKING ABOUT THIS#besides using one person as your example for why you shouldnt believe people who believe this is a thing.#i mean. even aside the fucking fact that its all bs. if yall dont wanna believe me. whatever. you can get traumatized by them if you want#idefc at this point. if you actually care about politics as much as you say you gotta engage w people in good faith and uh maybe try n#listen to the SWATHES of other trans guys who also talk about this shit and thinks its real.
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Gosh I love all of your posts! 😘 I was wondering what your thoughts would be on Alastor trying to court his darling? We all know he’s a gentleman at heart and is very proper. So how would he go about trying to win them over?
• He wouldn't tell anyone except for a very very small select few that he thinks he wants to be more with you. Maybe only Rosie honestly. The Great Radio Demon would never normally ask for help but this is uncharted territory for him
• Rosie would be so excited, acting like a gossiping wine aunt and doing her best to direct Alastor
"You know how you treat Vox? Don't do that."
"You know how you treat Lucifer? Don't do that."
"You know how you treat—"
"Rosie. I get it."
• He does his best to save you a seat beside him whenever he's lounging in the lobby. And even though he wouldn't let you into his bedroom, he would definitely let you know that if you ever need anything at all, you can come find him at any time
• Would know your favourite breakfast, lunch and dinner and regularly have it made for you. You technically don't have to eat anything to survive but he likes the way your eyes light up when you see what's waiting for you downstairs anyway
• Usually he hates when people get near him before he can do it to them—he likes the control he has invading other peoples' space and not when it happens to him
• But he actually enjoys the feeling of your hands and how gentle you are. Has 0 qualms about you being touchy with him because unlike when others get too close, he feels no malice from you. You make him feel comfortably safe
• Alastor would 100% be overprotective of you even if he's not directly hovering over your shoulder. Always keeping an eye on you when you go out and discreetly stepping in when others are too handsy with you
• He would play old tunes for you on the piano, staying up with you well into the night just to watch you sit on the back of it and listen with a smile
• You're not from the same era so he tries to learn about all the technology from your time, even though he despises it
• Eventually others get the hint that Alastor might see you as more than just a friend and try to set the two of you up in their meddlesome ways
"Here they come!" Angel sticks out his leg to trip you and you conveniently fall right into Alastor's arms. He would raise a brow but not question the help.
"I'm sorry!"
"Quite alright, darling."
• On that note, knows that you get a little flustered when he uses pet names so he makes sure to call you his dearest/darling often
• Has you fix his bowtie in the morning. Like, he purposefully leaves it a little undone so that when he sees you, you immediately have a reason to be near him
• When walking with him, he'll always link arms with you and treats you like royalty
• I can't imagine him actually asking you out or anything, he just started acknowledging you as a companion and you went along with it
~
taglist: @the-lake-is-calling @dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice @averylonelysea @bri22222 (send an ask to be added!)
#🍓 faye's thoughts <3#alastor#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin x reader#alastor fanfic#alastor fluff#alastor headcanons#alastor x you#alastor fanfiction#alastor hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel headcanon#hazbin hotel fanfic#hazbin hotel fanfiction#hazbin fic
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Maybe hot take but I don’t think most of the hate directed toward Steven was racism. It was a proportional (if extreme) reaction to their public personas. Shane and Ryan are why everyone follows watcher, so of course they’re going to get less hate automatically. But even excepting that, this is how each of the boys is perceived:
Steven: CEO (meaning he’d likely be the one making the final decision here, and in the general public consciousness the assumption is that the CEO makes the most money), drives a Tesla, gets goop (notoriously expensive) salads door dashed (notoriously expensive) every day and admitted it without shame, wants to bring back a series that does not include Ryan and Shane (the reason people watch and the content they’d be most ok paying for) and that is at its core is a show of wealth and that previously included gold-flecked ice cream - something obviously expensive and ridiculous
Ryan: neither flagrantly anti-capitalist, nor a flagrant spender, a net neutral in terms of money
Shane: anti-capitalist, regularly tells you to steal from the rich, told you in the goodbye video to steal from the company (share passwords), has never spoken to any degree about what money he makes or what he buys with it, has spent years building this persona by joking directly with fans
I don’t think this is racism, I think this is a direct reaction to perceived classism judged by how each of the boys has shown their wealth and crafted their online persona over the years. The guy with the Tesla was always going to get the most shit. The guy who told you to share passwords was always going to get the least. I don’t think it’s right, all three made this decision together and they all believed in it enough to take it this far (they shot expensive overseas episodes of ghost files - Shane and Ryan’s show - already for god’s sake) but I think crying racism to make justifiably upset fans feel bad is a stretch
#watcher#shane madej#ryan bergara#steven lim#ghost files#if Steven was white we would still be mad at the CEO with the Tesla
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thinking about being fuckbuddies and housemates with cheol who is in a frat and popular af. one night at a frat party he flirts with another girl way too much and reader doesn't like it so she takes gyu back to her room and they fuck VERY LOUDLY cuz cheol is right next door. and that's where my imagination stopped working and i need you to elaborate for me!
tw: fratboy!cheol, fratboy!mingyu, college student fem!reader (an adult and she's wearing a skirt), degradation, jealous sex, rough sex, bulge kink, mean dom!cheol, bratty!reader, unprotected sex (pls stay safe), fwb!au - minors dni.
@wongyuseokie this is all your fault
"Cheol, open the goddamn door!" Mingyu keeps banging his fist on the door, "She doesn't even want you, man, give her back!"
Meanwhile, you're laid on Seungcheol's bed, your shirt wide open and skirt flipped over, panties torn and thrown in the trash - except it was Mingyu who did it.
"Look what you have done with your stupid little games." The red haired man hovers above you, half naked.
"If you hadn't gone and flirted with that bitch, none of that would have happened." You snap at him.
"If you could keep it in your skirt and didn't let Mingyu of all people fuck you, neither of us would be mad."
"What, do you hate him because he's hotter and bigger than you? Is that it, Cheol?" You smirk and he clenches his jaw tight.
He gets up and opens the nightstand, taking out all of the condoms he stores in there. He walks to the door, unlocking it and flinging it open.
"Took you some damn time, asshole." Mingyu attempts to walk inside, but Seungcheol pushes him away, strongly enough for his back to crash on the other end of the corridor.
"Hands off my fuck buddy, Kim. Go find someone else to stick your dick in. Oh, and take these," he throws the condoms at the taller man, "She likes it when I fuck her raw."
Seungcheol slams the door shut behind him.
"Lock it." You tell him with a demanding tone and he does as you say, but you know that's all you're gonna get with this attitude.
"I'm really mad at you, Y/N." He unbuckles his pants and slides them along with his boxers, just enough to let his thighs and cock free, "Letting another man fuck your cunt and tear your panties, while you know we had established some rules."
"Rules are meant to be broken, Cheol." You tease him again.
"Then I guess I have to break you and remind you of your place."
He aligns his tip with your hole and pushes in with a fluid motion, a high pitched whine spilling from your lips.
"He's a good pussy stretcher, I'll give him that - Although I wish I was the one who stretched you out in the first place." Seungcheol groans and puts your ankles on his shoulders, hands gripping your waist.
He angles his hips upwards and thrusts slowly yet with brute force, again and again, until he notices the rise and fall of a bump on your pelvis.
"A-Ah, fuck, Cheol- My tummy-" You whimper repeatedly and he grabs your hand, putting it directly over said bump.
"Your tummy is full of my cock, princess." Seungcheol changes to a much slower, excruciating pace, but with enough force to make you bulge up, "Bet that idiot couldn't even use his big fat dick to do that - all muscle and no goddamn brains."
"As if your IQ is Nobel-worthy or something- Fuck!"
"My IQ isn't Nobel-worthy, but I do have the best stroke in the whole campus." He grins like a wolf.
"C-Confirmed by who?"
He bends his torso down, the ends of his red hair barely touching your face.
"You, obviously."
#svthub#scoups smut#seungcheol smut#svt scoups#choi seungcheol#svt smut#seventeen smut#seventeen#answered✨
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Just found your blog & I'm in love with your writing 😍 If requests are open, may you please write about a yan!ceo & a worker y/n?
YAN!CEO x G/N WORKER
this is so sweet 😭😭🙏🏼🙏🏼 i saw this and was kicking my feet in the air twirling my hair
this is also my like softest yandere oc so far HELP
tw: yandere, stalking, obsessive behavior
"This one is probably the top employee of the month," his secretary told him, pointing to a picture of you on the papers he had spread across his desk. "They just came back from a break, so maybe they motivated themself to do better."
"(Y/N) (L/N)," he read your name, looking at your information. "I've never seen them before,"
"They're in the marketing team, you never paid much attention to the people in the team other than the leader, sir."
"Well, it's about time I get to know the top performers in my company, don't you think?"
His secretary nodded, "Absolutely, sir. (Y/N) has been consistently delivering exceptional results in marketing campaigns. The team has praised their creativity and dedication."
he's so sweet to you!! but it scared you since you weren't used to the ceo exactly paying any attention to you :(
he sometimes sees you working for long hours, coming to you to tell you, you can leave now, but feels his heart almost jump out when you say it's okay, you can work for a bit longer.
at times you thought he hated you, maybe he was trying to tease you? or what if he was out to get you? you tried to steer away from him, but it made him almost cry.
he probably tried following you home, but was so shocked to see your living conditions! (you lived in a normal home, he was just too rich) all of a sudden your bills are paid! by who? your landlady says it was by a young gentleman, he was very handsome, according to her.
gets you your favorite drink (he overheard about him from some other employees) almost every day! but he can't deliver it directly to you, since he can't let his own employees know he has favorites.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x darling#yandere oc#tw yandere#yandere male#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#angst#male yandere#soft yandere#yancore#yandere ceo#g/n reader#yandere x g/n reader#gender neutral reader#yan ceo#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere ceo x you#yandere ceo x reader
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a blurb/fic of Quinn and elem school teacher and them “fighting” over paying for something!
Thank you for requesting, I had so much fun writing this 🥰
-
It was an unnaturally hot day in mid-April in Vancouver. People were treating it as of was a summer day in July. Everyone was out in shorts and dresses, having picnics or tanning, or swimming in spring chilled water of the Pacific.
You and Quinn were no exception. The beautiful day had coordinated with one of Quinns' rest days, which had all miraculously fallen on a Saturday. Meaning you didn't have to work. All in all, it was a very happy coincidence that you and Quinn decided to take full advantage of.
Quinn had proposed going out for breakfast, which had turned into going out for brunch because Quinn kept getting distracted by how gorgeous you looked in your floral printed sundress. He had eventually just tossed you onto the couch, bunched your dress around your hips, and ate you out till you were shaking beneath him.
Brunch was amazing. Quinn took you to an outdoor rooftop restaurant that served the best waffles you had ever eaten. When you leaned across the table with a piece of waffle on your fork for Quinn to try, he grinned and winked at you as he closed his lips over the fork suggestively.
Your cheeks flush all the way down to your chest and it made Quinn's grin grow even wider. After brunch the two of you decide to walk the coastline. You hand is wrapped around Quinn's arm as the two of you walk the park, playing the game of trying to decipher the detailed life stories of strangers.
"Oh, ice cream!" You jump excitedly pointing at the ice cream stand that has a long line, "please, Quinn, can we?" You ask, eyes glittering with hope.
Quinn chuckles, "of course we can baby," he says pressing a kiss to your forehead. It's the moments like this that make him wonder why it took him so long to tell you he loved you.
You tug him over the the line, chattering excitedly about the prospective flavours. Where you were always down to try a new flavour, Quinn stuck with what he liked. He would never tell you, but one of the reasons he did it was so if you were disappointed in the flavour you got, he would trade with you because he knew you also liked his flavour.
"Ooh Quinn! I think they have raspberry white chocolate!" You grin shaking his arm eagerly.
"That what you gonna get?" He asks, unable to keep the smile off his face. Seeing you happy makes him happy. And with the combination of the sunny weather, he can't keep the smile off his face.
"I don't know yet, I'll decide when we get there. What are you getting?"
"Take a wild guess," he snorts, flicking you in the forehead.
"Meanie," you huff, bumping his chin with your head playfully.
Soon enough it's your turn to order, "I'll have a scoop of strawberry cheesecake in a waffle cone, and he'll have a scoop of cookie dough in a waffle cone as well, please."
The poor teenage girl who looks like she hates her life, scribbles down your order with a nod. You shuffle around your purse for your card, but Quinn is already slapping a twenty dollar bill on the counter.
You snatch it off the counter quickly with a glare, and slap your card in its place. Quinn grabs your card off the table and replaces it with another bill thats gone just as fast as the first one. The girl looks ready to strangle you both. Quinn pulls out another twenty, and half wrestles you out of the way while he hands it to the girl directly.
"Keep the change," he mumbles apologetically, dragging you out of line to wait for your ice cream.
"Quinn," you turn on him with a glare, "what was that for?"
Quinn plays confused, "What do you mean?"
"I was going to pay!" You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Quinn rolls his eyes, mimicking your position.
"Babe, please, not this again." He groans
"Quinn, I asked you to get ice cream, that means I have to pay." You grumble.
"I say this with all my love babe," Quinn says squishing your cheeks between his calloused palms, "That's a stupid fucking rule. I'm your boyfriend, I'm always gonna pay."
"But I don't want-"
"I have a strawberry cheese cake, and a cookie dough in waffle cones?" The girl calls out, cutting your arguemnt short.
You smile, at her thankfully while Quinn grabs the ice cream. He hands you yours and slings his arm over your shoulders as the two of you continue your walk.
"Why does it bother you so much when I pay for things?" Quinn asks seriously, taking a lick of his ice cream.
"I'm a grown adult." You say grumpily, "I can pay for my own things."
Quinn flicks your ear, "Don't give me that bullshit. Tell me why it bothers you so much."
"I feel bad," you mumble.
"Why do you feel bad?" Quinn pushes, offering you a lick of his ice cream. You take it gratefully, offering yours in return. Quinn happily takes a lick, humming in approval.
"Dunno, I just do" You shrug, "I don't want you wasting your money on me."
Quinn looks slightly offended "Baby, its not a waste. I love paying for you. If you wouldn't kill me for it do you know how long ago I would've given you a credit card on my account?"
"Oh God, please never do that," you groan, covering your face with your free hand.
"You still haven't given me a real reason as to why you don't like it when I pay." He says again, fingers tracing comforting shapes on your collarbones.
You sigh, head dropping against his shoulder, "I don't want everyone to see me as a the girl who's with you cause of your money."
Quinn looks at you incredulously, "are you serious?"
You nod sheepishly.
"Babe, who gives a fuck what random strangers think? You're my girl, I wanna spoil you in every way possible."
"I know, I know, but for some reason, it really gets to me." You sigh.
"Well, you'd better stop letting it get to you because I'm paying for everything for the rest of our lives," Quinn says dramatically.
You snort, elbowing him in the ribs lightly, "ok, hot shot."
"Seriously baby, if that's the only reason, don't let it bother you."
"I'll try," you say, taking a bite of your cone.
"You'd better." He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. Suddenly, there's something cold sliding down your cheek. You can help but screech, jumping away from Quinn. He's laughing as you thumb a glob of cookie dough ice cream off your face.
"How dare you!" You gasp, licking the ice cream off your thumb. You dip your finger into your ice cream to retaliate, but before you can wipe it on his face, he's grabbing your wrist and sucking your ice cream coated ginger into his mouth. Your brain short-circuits, cheeks turning a brilliant shade of red.
Quinn smirks around your finger and lets it fall from his lips. "What's wrong, baby?" He teases, like he didn't just do what he did in public.
"You are so bad," you mutter, still blushing.
"Only for you baby," he grins, pressing a kiss to the side of your head, "only for you."
-
A blurb from this universe
#loving you is as easy as abc 123#quinn hughes#qh43#quinn hughes blurb#quinn hughes x y/n#quinn hughes x you#hughes brothers#quinn hughes x reader#nhl imagine#nhl x reader#vancover canucks#nhl blurb#nhl x y/n#nhl x you#hockey imagine#hockey blurb
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leveling the playing field VIII
summary: you didn't meet the requirements for the plinth prize, only to find out that you're not just missing out on that- you're missing out on the opportunity of a lifetime. your friend wants to help, because maybe you can help each other.
pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader
wc: 3.2k
tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. do they love each other or hate each other? who knows (we do, kind of). abuse, so read with caution!! also a little bit of swearing but that's neither here nor there
masterlists // nav // requests
join my taglist here
a/n: omg so this is the final part of the first like, section of this story! i probably should have not called them parts bc idk what to do for the second like.. bit. season? maybe?) yeah sure, season two coming soon!! lol
thank you guys so much for being here and reading this and enjoying it as much as i have enjoyed writing it! it truly means so much to me :)
next part
You hear footsteps and turn around in the seat, hoping desperately that it's Coryo, and you are relieved to see that it finally is. He had been gone for close to an hour. You stand quickly, going to meet him halfway, what you had to tell him couldn't wait. "Coryo," You say quickly, before launching into the full story. "Lucy Gray came back, the others were chasing her and she hid in that vent and she's still in there, they're trying to figure out how to get in. She's stuck."
You follow him back to the desk, his eyes wide now too. "That's good... I think that's good." He's scanning the arena again, as if there's any inch of it he hasn't committed to memory, trying to see if there was any way Dr. Gaul's snakes could reach her in the vent you pointed to.
"No, no it's not good because I don't think there's another way out of that one except the way she came in." You dig into your bag as it hangs at his side, pulling out the notebook that you drew the map in. "Yeah, look- it's pinched off about thirty feet in." You point to the page, holding it out for him to see.
"She just has to wait them out." He insists, pushing your hand down. "Put that away- you shouldn't have that."
Why is he so calm about this? Lucy Gray was trapped, and this time there was nothing either of you could do to help her. "Yeah, but that's not going to work for much longer." You say, watching as the three make a plan to push her farther into the vent and try and get her out from the bottom.
Hurriedly, you close your notebook and put it away so you don't have to look away for long.
"Just a little longer, Lucy Gray..." Coryo mutters to himself and grips onto your hand at his side. At this, you reach across your body and rub his arm with your free hand. His whole future could collapse in a matter of moments if Lucy Gray doesn't survive. Yours could too. But as you watch Coral thrust her weapon up into the pipes that you know Lucy Gray is inside, you flinch, not knowing how much longer Lucy Gray can hold out.
You can't even process what is happening to Treech and the outcries of his mentor and people in the theatre, wondering what happened to him as he collapses with a bloody nose. You knew, so you avoided even looking in their direction as Lucy Gray tumbled from the now shredded vent, landing directly on top of Coral before making a run for it. You're sure Coriolanus isn't even breathing.
You aren't either when every one of the tributes freezing and the wind starts whipping Lucy Gray's hair around her face and her dress around her sides. Everyone watches as a large tank is lowered into the arena and dropped delicately on top of the pile of debris in the center.
"What is that?" You wonder out loud, and Coryo just shakes his head as you look up at him.
"C'mon Lucy Gray, get out of there..."
"Wouldn't it be funny if it was candy?" Lucky jokes and you stifle a laugh.
At this moment, the young girl from District Eight wanders out into the clearing, pale and skinny. "Is it over?" She asks no one in particular, making your smile fade.
"Wovey..." Reaper warns her from where he's kneeling next to the bodies he had covered with the flag.
"Can we go home now?" You clutch your hand back to your chest as she walks toward the tank- you don't know what was in the tank, but you know it wouldn't be good.
"Wovey." He warns again, more stern this time with a slight shake of his head.
The tank starts to splinter, cracking steadily along all sides until it bursts open. You gasp at the amount of snakes that come out. A wave of moving, rainbow destruction crashes over the floor and completely engulfs the little girl in a fraction of a second, as everyone else starts to run.
As Lucy Gray and Coral make a break for the walls, trying to get up to the stands, Reaper seems to just accept his fate. You feel... bad. He could have taken your offer made days before, he could be winning right now. At least he and Wovey didn't suffer.
As Lucy Gray pushes herself backward up the pile of rubble away from the fast moving snakes, Coral starts speaking to her. You can't hear what she's saying, but you can see she's crying- maybe pleading for Lucy Gray's help, maybe just saying her goodbyes to this world. It didn't matter, Lucy Gray was the last one alive as Coral's body got surrounded by the snakes.
Please work. Coriolanus begs the universe, hoping that the cloth he had used to wipe her tears and the one she used to wipe away the dirt from her skin before the interview, which he took from your bag and shoved into slots in the tank would be enough to save her.
"She won!" You grin, shaking Coryo's shoulder as he stands beside you, eyes still locked on Lucy Gray.
That's when she starts to sing, just as the snakes catch up to her. Why aren't they letting her out? It was over.
"Why aren't they getting her out?" You ask him, confused as everyone watches intensely, entranced by her voice.
"I'll be along, when I've finished my song..."
Coryo and you both turn, facing the audience now and all eyes immediately lock on Dr. Gaul. "Dr. Gaul, she won." He says, as if somehow she's missed it- surely she had. Surely she's not watching the same thing you are.
"When I've shut down the band, played out my hand..."
"It's over, let her out!" You shout, attempting to draw her attention.
"Paid all my debts..."
"Why aren't they attacking her?" You hear someone ask, noticing the snakes are almost entirely covering Lucy Gray's shirt now.
"Have no regrets, right here..."
"It must be the singing," Coryo replies, and you look up at him. You don't know that that's true, but you won't ask. "It's calming them."
"In the old therebefore..."
"She can't sing forever."
"Then let her out!" You yell, looking pleadingly up at Dr. Gaul in the stands. "Dr. Gaul!" You demand her attention now, stomping your foot down.
Your blood is boiling when she still won't look at you and the sound of Lucy Gray's voice fills the theatre. "Look at me!" You scream, and clearly, people are getting annoyed at you for interrupting Lucy Gray's song. "Look at me now or let her out!"
She does neither, not until Lucy Gray's song moves everyone else to match your cries for her to be released. Only then does Dr. Gaul look at the two of you, and you drop Coryo's hand.
The doctor sighs, leaning over to her assistant. "Get her out. Now." She says, and cheers erupt in the room previously filled with emotional tears.
"I did it." Coryo says, and you have to lean close to hear it over everyone's delight.
"You did it!" You laugh, throwing your arms over his shoulders. You scream in excitement as he hugs you back, lifting you up and spinning you around as people crowd the two of you. You don't think you've ever been happier.
As he lets you down gently, grabbing your cheeks and pressing a kiss to your forehead, you wonder if your parents are watching. You can't wait to get home, to see your family and let them sing your praises for Coriolanus's success in the games. Well, Lucy Gray's success that the two of you get to reap the rewards of.
Then, he's gone, leaving you to gather your things while he goes to see Tigris. You smile, sighing to yourself as you watch. It's likely your father has already sent the car to collect you, so you should probably get going. You're in dire need of a celebratory bath, anyway.
Last night, you had the best sleep you had gotten in weeks. A full eight hours- a privilege you didn't know you missed so bad. Even when you had to get up for school around six, you felt so well rested you knew you could take on the world.
That was until you walked downstairs for breakfast. "Good morning." You grin, skipping down the last couple of steps only to be met with your father hanging up the phone, storming over to you, and shoving you back onto the staircase.
"Sit down. Listen to me." He spits as you groan, holding your head from where it hit the railing and adjusting yourself so you are sitting properly on the stairs.
"Ow... What did I do?"
"You know what you did, Y/N." He hisses, pacing in front of you. "Un-fucking-believable! They went out on a limb for you, and this is how you repay them? Do you even realize what you have done? To me? To this family?"
The poison.
"Dad, I didn't do anything! I had no say in it! Coryo gave her the compact empty- it wasn't our business what she did with it!" You argue, standing up only to earn yourself a slap across the face.
"You were to give her nothing. You knew that." You hold your cheek while he lectures you, and you just nod.
"Yes, sir." You sniff, rubbing your jaw to soothe the sting of your already burning skin. "I'm sorry."
"Don't apologize to me- you will apologize to Dean Highbottom first thing this morning and hope he's smart enough to forgive you. Now, go."
You pull your bag back over your shoulder, avoiding eye contact with your little brother and your mother sat at the table as you walked out the door. It looks like you're walking today.
You make it to your first class, obviously not feeling too excited about the concept of speaking with the Dean. Coryo walks in just a few moments after you, stealing the seat at your side. You can't even look at him.
"Good morning." He whispers, pulling his textbook out of his bag. He's in good spirits it seems, but you know that won't last long. "You left in a hurry after the games yesterday, I was hoping we would celebrate together."
When you don't respond, he furrows his brow. Were you mad at him? Had he done something? "Wow, you're a ray of sunshine this morning, aren't you?" He asks, disguising his hurt as a joke. His intention was to come back to you after speaking with Tigris, he wanted to see if you would like to go for a walk or something and discuss everything. He didn't really have a plan, but he didn't want you to leave his side, not yet. The games had ended all too quickly, and you had yet to even discuss what had happened with the kiss you shared. He couldn't let you slip back into a routine of only seeing each other in class and during breaks, he couldn't bear the mere idea of it.
You slam your pen down on the desk, turning to look at him now. "We are in such deep, deep shit, Coriolanus." You hiss, taking notice of everyone looking at you so you quiet down.
"Your... your cheek." He just mutters, leaning in to look closely at the other side of your face and the maroon bruise that now adorned it. Even under your makeup he could see it. "What happened?" He reaches out to gently brush his hand over your jaw and you flinch away quickly.
You sigh, looking around quickly before leaning in closer to whisper to him. "They know, about the poison. We're done for, enjoy your final moments of freedom." You move away quickly as your professor starts speaking and the world begins to crash down around your best friend.
He sits back, face pale as his stomach turns. How could they know? They must have found the compact on Lucy Gray- it must not have been empty. Or was it the cloths in the tank? Those would be easier to find, probably, but how could they be traced back to you?
"We need to borrow Miss Y/L/N and Mister Snow, please." A peacekeeper says as he knocks on the open door frame, eyes quickly finding the two of you.
"It was nice knowing you." You sigh, quickly gathering your things and making your way down to the door.
He follows quickly behind, and for once, your classmates are silent.
A group of three peacekeepers lead you down a quiet hallway of the school, and stop at an open door gesturing for the two of you to enter.
"Ladies first," Coriolanus says softly, stepping aside for you to enter.
"Oh, so now I'm a lady." You scoff quietly, walking into the large open room, the high biology room, with nothing but a table in the center. The table is adorned only with the compact he had given to Lucy Gray, and two handkerchiefs. One of his, and one of yours. How did they get that?
"Kids." Dean Highbottom greets the two of you as the door slams shut behind you.
You open your mouth to speak, taking a breath and he stops you before you get the chance. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I don't want to hear it."
"No, I think you do." You protest, "Because my-"
"Your father?" He cuts you off. "What about him? Because I just got off the phone with him this morning, and judging by the state of your face, I would argue that I am in agreement with him."
You swallow, fighting the urge to look down and avoid his gaze. If you had any chance of walking out of here without being in too much trouble, you had to prove that you were not afraid.
"Don't you think that she's been punished enough?" Coryo argues, looking between the two of you.
"Coriolanus." He ignores his plea, tapping the table next to the compact. "How many times did I see your mother pull this from her handbag to check her face? Your pretty, vapid mother, who'd somehow convinced himself that your father would give her freedom and love. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, as they say."
"She wasn't." Coryo protests, referring to the Dean's insinuations about his mother. You look at him, but he won't meet your gaze.
"Only her youth excused her, and, really, she seemed fated to be a child forever. Just like the opposite of your girl, here." He gestures to you. "Eighteen going on thirty-five, and a hard thirty-five, at that. Your songbird, too."
"She gave you the compact?" Coriolanus asks, the sadness of betrayal evident on his features at the idea of Lucy Gray handing it over.
"Oh, don't blame her. The peacekeepers had to wrestle her to get the thing. Naturally, we do a thorough search of the victors when they leave the arena." Dean Highbottom explains, tilting his head as he looks between the two of you. "So smart of her, to poison the water Dill drank and dust it over Treech the way she did. If I didn't know better, I would have thought I was watching you, Miss Y/L/N."
You take a sharp breath, making an effort to straighten your posture.
"She claimed that the poison was her idea, that the compact was nothing but a token." He adds.
"It was." You state, though he is likely speaking to Coriolanus.
"Oh, I'm glad to see you got your story straight." Highbottom nods at you, voice dripping in sarcasm. "But I don't believe you. Even if I did, what am I to make of these?" He taps next to the handkerchiefs now next to it. "One of the lab assistants found these in the snake tank last night. Everyone was baffled at first, checking to see if it was one of their own that they had dropped. Until we noticed the initials. Not yours. Your father's. So delicately stitched into the corner..."
You look at Coryo, who is fighting to keep a straight face through his urge to vomit. "Why haven't you made this public?" He asks.
"I know why." You say, crossing your arms and looking the Dean up and down, who just rolls his eyes.
"I was tempted," He ignores you. "Believe me, I was. But the academy, when expelling students, has a tradition of offering them a lifeline. As an alternative to public disgrace, Coriolanus, you may join the peacekeepers by the end of the day."
Coryo's heart drops, as does yours. "The other one, it's hers." He points suddenly to the other cloth, next to his father's. Your jaw drops. How dare he throw you under the bus like that?
"I was getting to that." The Dean sighs as you shoot glares into the side of Coriolanus's head.
"I didn't do that! He took my bag, he took it and put it in the tank- I didn't know anything!" You argue, and he once again raises a hand at you to shut you up.
"Coriolanus, you better hurry. The office closes in twenty minutes, if you run you can make it in time." Highbottom says to your classmate, who just nods and turns for the door. "Oh, and what's that?" He asks, looking up at the skylight. "It's the sound of Snow, falling."
Coriolanus glares at him, pacing quickly out of the door and slamming it behind himself.
You're in shock still over why he would do that to you, but you don't have the time to process it before the Dean is scolding you. "Now, what will happen to you, huh?" He asks, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. "Be honest, did you know?"
"No, sir." You reply, giving a firm shake of your head.
"That's a shame. He really threw you under, huh?" He laughs, mocking you. "After what I saw the other day, I was expecting he would defend you tooth and nail... but no. I mean, he is a Snow, after all."
You don't say a word, just glaring at the man in front of you and waiting for him to tell you your fate.
"Anyway, if it was up to me, you would already be undergoing the necessary procedures to become an Avox. Oh, how I would love to see you without a tongue." He muses, sighing in disappointment. "But I know your father would be embarrassed so I think it best to leave your punishment in his hands, would you agree? Outside, of course, your expulsion."
"You can't expel me!" You shout, fists clenched around the sleeves of your coat.
"Enough of your tantrums, Y/N. You're too old for this. But, alas, you're right. I'm obligated to extend you the olive branch too." He concedes. "You are allowed to graduate under the condition that you work in service for the next ten years. Although keep in mind, your father won't like that."
"Fuck your olive branch! How dare you threaten me like this! I did nothing wrong, we won!" You fire off, practically twitching with anger at this point. "If you won't go public with it, I will! I've got nothing to lose now, the whole country will know what you and my dad are doing! What you're selling! I'll tell everyone! You'll be executed for treason!" You didn't even notice when you started grabbing anything you could reach and launching it in his direction until the peacekeepers were grabbing the back of your arms and dragging you away kicking and screaming. "You'll hang for this!"
You hardly make it to the door before you feel a stab in your neck, and the world fades to black around you.
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#tbosas#tbosas x reader#tbosas fic#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#the hunger games#thg#thg series#thg fanfiction#hunger games#coriolanus x reader#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow#coriolanus x you#coryo snow
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Right On Cue- Frankie Morales x f!reader
Main Masterlist | Frankie Morales Masterlist
Pairing: Bartender!frankie Morales x Waitress!f!reader
Summary: The quiet bartender lends you a hand after you've closed up for the night.
Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+
Word Count: 2.8k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied but otherwise undescribed. Oral sex f receiving, protected PIV, that's pretty much it. this is just PWP
Author's Notes: shoutout to my love @pedgito for beta reading for me!
“Hey! Sweetheart! Can we get another round?”
You roll your eyes at the pet name. As much as you hate it, the dickheads who use them usually tip the best. Unfortunately, they’re also the most likely to try to cop a feel. Luckily, there’s no tolerance for that here. The bartender, Frankie, never hesitates to kick out an asshole who puts his hands where they don’t belong. Honestly, it’s kind of surprising how sharp an eye he has for it. It’s like he has eyes in the back of his head. He always makes sure there’s a gratuity added to their tab before he kicks their asses to the curb.
You don’t know much about him. He’s worked here longer than anyone but he doesn’t socialize much. He’s probably the only bartender you ever met that didn’t drink. He’s all broad shoulders and brooding. A man of few words but never an unkind one. All the girls have a crush on him, you’re no exception. As far as you know, he’s never taken any of them up on their offers. The skin around his eyes crinkles when he smiles. On the rare occasion that you can get a laugh out of him, the deep boom goes straight to your bones.
“Hey Frankie. Need another round for the assholes at table three.”
He turns to face you and nods his head in their direction. “They giving you any trouble?”
“No. Not like that. Just drunk and annoying.” you assure him.
He pops the top off the beers and places them on your tray. “You’ll let me know if they start bothering you?”
“I promise.”
You put a little extra swish into your hips as you walk away. Just in case he’s looking.
Two hours, two spilled drinks and about ten thousand steps later, you finally hear the words you look forward to every night. “Last call!” Frankie shouts from behind the bar. All of your tables attempt to get your attention, desperate for their last drink of the night. You make it a point to hit the table with the assholes last, slamming their beers on the table harder than you normally would. By this point you are fed up with their shit. Drunk ass dude bros are not your favorite people in the world, and this is your sixth day straight of work.
“Thanks doll.” one drawls while slipping a bill into the waistband of your shorts. You swat his hand away, but your snarky reply gets caught in your throat as you hear a voice from directly behind you.
“Keep your fucking hands to yourself.” Frankie says, reaching past your shoulder and grabbing the man by his collar. He drags him up from the stool and the man has a hard time finding his footing.
“I was just thanking her for a job well done.” he smirks, not even realizing how badly he’s fucked up. Frankie smiles and you see a darkness flash through his eyes. Maybe he enjoys this part of the job a little too much , you think.
Later, once the doors have been locked for the evening, you rush to the break room, desperate to kick off the high heels that are required as part of your uniform. You pull your sandals out of your backpack and sit on the bench.you kick the heels off and bring one foot up onto the opposite knee. Just as you dig your thumb into the arch of your foot, Frankie comes in. Your eyes connect with his just as you groan “Oh, fuck.” He raises his eyebrows and the corner of his mouth turns up slightly.
“That good, huh?” he asks.
“Oh shut up! You try wearing those things for ten hours.” you tell him. You slide your feet into your sandals and make your way back out to the floor. This place isn’t gonna clean itself. It’s your turn to mop the floors so you have to wait for everyone else to finish before you can leave. Luisa comes by to say goodnight on her way out. She looks over to where Frankie stands behind the bar, drying glasses. She bumps your shoulder with hers.
“Hope you and your boyfriend have a good night!” she sings with a wink. Being married, Luisa is probably the only woman in the building not interested in Frankie. She’s convinced herself, and tried to convince you, that he’s secretly in love with you. She loves teasing you about it, because she knows that you’ll never make a move on your own.
“Shut up!” you hiss at her through clenched teeth. You look over your shoulder, checking that he didn’t hear. His back is to you and he seems busy with his own work. His body language gives no indication that he has overhead. “Will you get out of here?” you say, swatting her behind with your bar towel. She laughs all the way out the door and you roll your eyes.
Frankie stocks the bar while you mop, singing along to the country music pouring out of the bar speakers. Once you’ve finished, you begin to roll the mop bucket back towards the back. A wheel snags on the corner of the pool table leg, tipping the bucket and sending disgusting mop water everywhere.
“Fuck!” you shout as the brown water splashes over your sandals. Just as tears begin to form in your eyes, Frankie comes running from behind the bar with a bag of bar towels in his hand.
“Here.” he shoves a couple of towels into your hands and drops to his knees. You join him on the floor and begin mopping up the water with the towels. You sniffle, trying to hold your tears back. “Hey, it's okay.” He assures you, placing his hand gently on your shoulder. You want to lean into his touch but it’s gone just as quickly as it appeared.
You and Frankie work together to get all the water cleaned up. One towel after another, until almost the whole bag is gone. You deposit the soaking towels into the now empty mop bucket. “Thanks for helping.” you tell Frankie. He offers you enough of a smile that you can see the hint of a dimple in his cheek.
“Anytime. Now let’s get outta here.” he rolls the mop to the back room and you head to the break room. You wash your hands and use a wet paper towel to scrub the gunk that was on the floor from your knees. You grab your backpack and take a last look in the mirror before heading out. You straighten your clothes and head back out to the floor. You set your stuff down on the pool table and wait for Frankie to emerge.
“Let me just grab my stuff,” he says. He’s removed his flannel overshirt and is using it to dry his hands. His gray t-shirt is stretched taut across his chest and biceps. You can’t help but be drawn to the way his muscles move as he dries his hands. He tosses the shirt over his shoulder and reaches below the bar for his wallet and keys. He turns the music off and does one last check to make sure everything is shut down for the night. “Ready?” he asks.
You nod and reach out your hand. You grab his bicep softly and when his eyes lock on yours, you feel something shift between you. “Thanks again for helping me out. Sorry you had to stay even later.” He catches your chin between his thumb and forefinger, stroking it gently.
“Like I said,” he begins, moving his face even closer to yours. So close, in fact, you can feel his breath on your skin when he continues, “anytime.”
“I appreciate that.” you reply, almost in a whisper. You close the distance between your faces even more. Just as you open your mouth to say something else, Frankie’s bottom lip brushes your top one. You suck in a breath and he uses the opportunity to catch your bottom lip in between his own. His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You moan when he slides his tongue along yours and he swallows it up, drinking it down.
You savor the smell of him, sweat and the fresh scent of his soap or deodorant. His other hand comes to rest at the small of your back and he uses it to bring you closer still. His chest presses up against yours, your hands circle his neck. You can feel the stiffness in his jeans against your thigh.
You knock his hat to the ground and change the angle of your head, allowing him to kiss you even deeper. He runs his hands down the length of your torso, squeezing on the way down, like he wants to feel every inch of you. You’ll be damned if you don’t want the same. He grips the meat of your ass with his large hands and now it's his turn to moan. He picks you up and sets you on the edge of the pool table. His lips never leave yours. You’re surprised to find that he’s just as ravenous for you as you have been for him. Maybe Luisa was right.
You slip your hands under his shirt and feel the warm skin of his firm chest. You lightly scrape your nails down his chest and caress the soft swell of his stomach. You run your finger over the trail of hair that leads down and disappears below the top of his jeans.
“ Fuck, baby.” he whimpers against your lips. You grab the hem of his shirt and begin tugging it upwards. Once the shirt has been dropped to the still drying floor a fire lights in his eyes. “Is this okay?” he asks, grabbing the bottom of your shirt.
“Yes, please. I’ve been wanting this for so long.”
He rips your shirt off you and unhooks your bra with nimble fingers. He drops them both onto the pool table and steps back a little. His eyes rake over your exposed breasts and his tongue runs across his lips, wetting them. You shiver under his gaze and he steps closer, pressing himself right back up against you. He rests his hands below your breasts and thumbs your nipples.
“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted you like this, baby.” he tells you before devouring your mouth with his own once more. You palm his hardening length through his jeans and feel it twitch under your touch. “ Fuck.” he groans.
You unbuckle his belt, unbutton his jeans and shove your hand down his boxer briefs. Past the coarse hair, you take his cock into your hand and his hips buck against you.
“Please, Frankie.” you moan. The feel of his thick cock has you growing wetter by the second.
“Please what, baby?”
“I need more.” you say, desperate to feel him on you, in you.
“Stand up.”
You follow his directions and when you rise he places his hands on your shoulders and spins you around. He grabs both wrists and places your hands on the soft green felt of the pool table, far out in front of you. “Keep them there.” he orders. You wouldn’t dare move them. His fingers curl around the elastic of your biker shorts and underwear and he pulls them down your legs. He lifts your feet one at a time, sliding them out of your clothes before placing them back in your sandals. He deposits them on the table with the rest of your clothes.
You stand there, knees slightly bent, ass out on display, and wait for what's next. You hear some shuffling and the clinking of Frankie’s belt as he sheds the remainder of his own clothes. He comes up behind you and you can feel his hard cock pressed up against your ass. His hand snakes around to your front and he runs his fingers through your folds.
“Is this all for me?” he asks when he finds you already soaked for him.
“Yes, Frankie. It’s all for you.”
He taps the outside of your thigh with two fingers. “Lift this for me.”
You lift your leg and he places your knee on the edge of the pool table. He drops to his knees below you and takes in the sight of you. “Fucking perfect.” he almost whipsers. You aren’t sure whether he’s talking to you or himself but it doesn’t matter because he licks a broad stripe from your dripping entrance up to your clit. Your knees almost buckle under the sensation but he’s there to keep you steady.
“It’s a little early for your knees to be giving out already.” he teases.
“Do you ever shut up?” you ask breathlessly.
He responds with another long, slow lick. And then another. He doesn’t stop until he’s brought you to orgasm with nothing but his mouth and fingers. When he rises from his knees he directs you to keep your knee on the table. He slides his latex covered cock over your pussy before lining himself up.
“You ready for me?” he asks and you can hear the fucking smirk on his face.
“I’m ready. Please. Fuck me.”
He growls in response and breaches your entrance. The stretch of him feels divine. His cock parts your walls, making a home for itself inside of you. He goes slowly. He knows he’s a lot to take. He kisses your shoulder and your neck, whispering praise in your ear until he’s nestled firmly inside you.
He places one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder. He pulls out of you slowly, until just the tip of him remains. He starts with long, slow strokes. The drag of his cock along your walls has you dripping all over him. You can feel the hair at his base is soaked when it brushes against your ass. He picks up his pace, hitting something inside of you that makes your legs shake. With every thrust, he’s pulling you down onto his cock with the hand on your shoulder.
“Oh fuck, Frankie! Right there, baby!” Your cries echo off the walls of the empty bar and Frankie lets out a growl from deep in his chest.
“You keep screaming my name like that and I won’t last much longer.”
He brings his hand to your pussy and feels where he is splitting you open. He drags his fingers up to your clit and circles it. The dual stimulation sends you hurtling towards the edge of your next orgasm. Your cunt begins to flutter around Frankie’s cock and he increases the speed of his fingers.
“Oh, God! Oh fuck! I’m fucking coming!” you shout and are overcome with the intensity of your orgasm. Frankie’s breath comes hard and fast out of his nose but his thrusts don’t falter and his fingers don’t stop.
“Come on, baby, I want one more. Just gimme one more." His words are strained and said through gritted teeth. You are straddling the line between pleasure and overstimulation when another orgasm slams right into the tail end of the first one. Your legs finally give out and Frankie holds you up, still pounding into you.
Your shouts fill the room and Frankie’s thrusts begin to slow in speed, but they somehow reach even deeper than before. One, two, three sharp snaps of his hips and he spills himself inside the condom. You both collapse, spent, onto the surface of the pool table and attempt to catch your breath. After a few moments, Frankie’s weight on your back is pressing the edge of the table into your abdomen.
“Frankie?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I can’t fucking breathe.”
“Oh shit! Sorry!” he lifts his weight off of you and grips the base of his softening cock, holding tightly to the condom and pulls out of you with a hiss. He scoops his clothes from the floor with one hand and nods towards the bathroom. “I'm gonna go clean up. Wait for me?”
You nod and gather your own clothes from the pool table.you toss your bra into your backpack and pull the rest of your clothes on. Frankie exits the bathroom and grabs his hat from the floor. He puts it on and gives you a quick kiss. He pats his pockets for his belongings then slides an arm around your shoulders.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
“Do you wanna go get some breakfast with me? I’m starving and I could go for some pancakes right now.”
He smiles and presses a kiss to your temple. “How ‘bout I make you some pancakes?”
“Really?”
“They’re kind of my specialty. My kids love them.”
You raise an eyebrow. He’s never talked about his personal life before. “You have kids?
“Yup. Two of ‘em. Come on. I’ll tell you all about them while I cook.”
“I’d love that.”
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#francisco morales#frankiemorales#frankie#frankie friday#frankie catfish morales#frankie morales#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie x reader#frankie morales smut#triple frontier#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier fic#triple frontier smut
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I realized we know the least about the river person in ya au.
Care to remedy that?
Well to be honest.. not a whole lot has changed about her. I keep forgetting she exists and I don't have a lot of ideas for how she could interact with the group..
Though speaking of her, recently I tried to dig into her character a little more and I started by making a redesign for her. Although its only the first pass and Isn't official yet-
And despite my attempts, for now her story and character is still relatively the same..
She was just a lonely boat keeper. She would come home from her shifts to a gloomy house where no one was waiting for her. No family, no friends.. no pets or hobbies.. she didn't really have anything going on except for running the boat. And to be honest.. she was kind'a okay with that in a way. She just accepted that this was her life, and this is how she lives. And its not like she had no joy in her life. Her joy came from running the boat.
She would take all kinds of people down the river, and they would talk to her. They would tell her wonderful things. The children would talk about their hopes and dreams. What they wanted to be when they grew up.. what their favorite food was. They'd tell her about that crazy looking frog they saw on the way here.
The elderly would tell her stories of all the places they'd been and all the things they'd seen. And even if they didn't talk to her directly.. she still overheard some interesting conversations. The young couples would talk about what they were planning on naming their first child. They would talk about what they wanted their house to look like and how many pets they wanted to have.
And sometimes the people on the boat didn't talk at all. Sometimes they looked sad and wouldn't look up from their feet.. So she would sing to them. And when they got off she would tell them "I hope you're day gets better. I enjoyed your company." And the few times she got a smile back made it all worth it.
She put her value of herself and her life on the people around her. Transporting people from point A to point B and occasionally cheering people up.. was all the worth she really felt she had..
But then Jevil and his group came along for a boat ride. Half way down the river Jevil breaks out in a cold sweat and starts to shake. Somethings wrong.
"This world is about to end." The group perks up "What?"
Grabbing Seams sleeve beside him he says louder and frantically "THIS WORLD IS ENDING"
Jevil jumps up and makes a mirror below the water large enough to swallow the boat whole.
As they fall through the mirror, horrible soul breaking sounds can be heard as that timeline collapses in on itself.
The boat probably landed in a snowdin somewhere.. or maybe another waterfall? Or maybe in a dark world.. where ever it landed, Jevil was looking the group over when he saw River Person..
"Where.. am I?"
He had done it again. Ripped someone out of its AU just as it was dying...
I intended for River person to have some kind of survivors guilt. Thinking her life had no real value and that anyone else in her AU deserved to have been saved in her place. Almost the opposite of Grillby.
Grillby hates Jevil becuase he valued his life and lost everything he held dear.. River Person doesn't hate Jevil for saving her at all. She's not sad about losing her life becuase she never really had one.. She's just grieving for all those people who died and wishes any of them could have been saved in her place.
The guilt really eats her up inside..
#my response#river person#undertale#deltarune#I've been thinking of who's gonna give her the talk#the “you are endlessly valuable and just as deserving of life as everyone else in your AU was” talk#and if it convinces her or at least makes her feel better or not
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Hm, I know I said at least in my first reading of mdzs that I felt like Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng were actually friends as kids, I would like to remind folks that the catastrophic breakdown of their friendship was not because of some misplaced care but because Jiang Cheng is a stagnant character whose whole role in the story is to be the one who never learns, changes, and grows past his insecurities and resentments. They were always going to fall out with each other, even if the Sunshot Campaign never happened, even if the Wen Clan didn’t exist as a subjugating force terrorizing the other clans, because no matter how much Jiang Cheng cares about anyone, he will always place his personal resentments first.
I’m so serious: reread the pre-fall of Lotus Pier parts of the novel (flashback extras included), and tell me how many times Jiang Cheng says something genuinely nice about or to the benefit of Wei Wuxian without prompting. Point to me places where Jiang Cheng puts himself on the line for Wei Wuxian that is not him distracting the Wen. Compare the number of unambiguously positive interactions they have to the number of interactions they have in total, and I bet you’ll see that the positives are laughingly scant. Most every interaction they have together, Jiang Cheng is being a negative nancy. He’s the type of friend who, if you said “Today is a good day!” would snidely respond back, “What’s so good about?” before loudly complaining about what a nuisance your happiness is. Jiang Cheng is the type of friend that tells you that everyone else hates you because you’re so annoying, and you need to do something about that because he also finds you annoying so you should be lucky he “puts up with” you. And all of this negativity can be directly traced back to the resentment Jiang Cheng feels caused by his own mother projecting her insecurities onto him. Jiang Cheng, who cannot grow, learn, or change, is unable to extract his own self from his mother’s insecurities, ending up inheriting them as his own, instead.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like teen!Jiang Cheng is some irredeemable monster (that is reserved for his adult self), but Wei Wuxian already shows signs of being tired of his attitude as kids. He snaps at Jiang Cheng rudeness in the lotus pod seeds extra. He constantly admonishes Jiang Cheng about his blatant disregard for the lives and safety of other people. Most of the time, Wei Wuxian won’t even engage in the petty little remarks that Jiang Cheng makes, just treating it like nobody had spoken at all. The only times Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian move as a unit is when they have a common enemy—like Jin Zixuan—but without that, they are only held together by the fact that…they’ve been friends for a long time.
And this kinda leads me back to the point about the yunmeng friendship not being able to withstand the test of time even without an outside conflict: I would place the point of no return for their relationship at Wei Wuxian killing the xuanwu of slaughter, not at the fall of Lotus Pier. Wei Wuxian is one of two individuals that killed a mythological bloodthirsty creature responsible for hundreds of deaths, spent a week in a coma from his injuries and lack of immediate care, and what does he get for it? Jiang Cheng shows up with soup gifted to Wei Wuxian by Jiang Yanli, except he’s eaten all the meat out of it. Jiang Fengmian gives the most lukewarm praise to Wei Wuxian for his achievements—which Wei Wuxian neither complained about nor called him out for—because they were both trying to be mindful of Jing Cheng’s insecurities, and Jiang Cheng still made it about himself. When Madam Yu storms in to yell about how Wei Wuxian is a “bastard child” and he’s just trying to show off, Jiang Cheng consciously and unambiguously sides with his mother. Wei Wuxian had to drag his feverish body out of bed—after just awakening from a week-long coma—to placate pity-party Jiang Cheng, and the only thing that makes him feel better is not promises of continued friendship but of servitude. Even if at this point Wei Wuxian was still viewing Jiang Cheng as a—admittedly caustic—friend, Jiang Cheng’s view had fully transitioned from “annoying friend my mother hates” to “the servant I need to keep in line lest he overshadows me.” If anything, the fall of Lotus Pier, the debt placed on Wei Wuxian by the Jiang leaders, and the subsequent war probably allowed their friendship to last longer than it naturally would have (remember, they are only united against outside forces).
All this to say that while Jiang Cheng and Wei Wuxian may have started out as genuine friends in their childhood, their transition to enemies has absolutely nothing to do with that care. Sometimes we fall out with people because we just do not like them as people. Jiang Cheng’s resentment prevented him from appreciating Wei Wuxian as a person, leading to the end of their friendship and their descent into eventual enemies. Not misplaced or warped care, just pure, undeniable resentment.
#human metas mxtx#mdzs#idk i think the mdzs fandom can stand to analyze#why they feel so uncomfortable with people genuinely disliking each other#why every conflict has to be about ‘but deep down x really cared!’#when we are told and shown over and over again in a variety of different scenes and narrations#that the ‘care’ literally does not exist#mxtx does not fault genuine love or care for why shit goes south#and it’s weird to push the idea that positive feelings towards people is what leads to negative relationship outcomes#it was always jc’s resentment that did him in#his care or capacity for it is not even in the equation#because the resentment has pushed it out
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got a request via comment for a part two with the undatables for this mangled wings prompt! been working at trying to incorporate raph into my works so this will be my first post with him in it! part one can be found here
if you haven't done lesson 76-19 (yes i did have to look up the exact lesson haha) there are spoilers below for simeon
enjoy!
Mc with mangled wings p.2
Diavolo
he's always been very empathetic, and he immediately tries to help you in any way he can
he offers you all the moral and emotional support he can offer
he also tries to help you work through it and may know the right people to help you restore what you once had
whatever you need, he will help you as best as he can
Barbatos
when he learns, you're not so sure about how he feels since his expression remains exactly the same
but inside, he's filled with a seething rage that he rarely feels and is something only few can recognize
suddenly, all those that hurt you are begging for forgiveness
when you ask him, he says nothing and offers you a tea party with all your favorite things at it
Simeon
he's very open about how
however, something he'll never tell you is how afraid he was of suffering a similar fate
he's grateful he didn't fall like the brothers did, but now he's just floating in a weird in between
it's an odd bonding moment between the two of you, being outcasted, but part of him feels like you could connect more with the brothers than him
Luke
he's so horrified that people that you once trusted could do that to you
he hugged you and almost started crying while apologizing
after he learns what happened to you, you suddenly find a lot more specialty treats left on your bed that are always right up your alley
while he thinks it might bother you to bring it up directly, he's always asking how you are and how you're feeling
Solomon
he's seen a lot during his lifetime, so while this doesn't phase him too much, that doesn't take away how upset it makes him
he hates seeing you in pain, and as a human, he's known a lot of that
even though you're not, he feels as if the two of you can bond over understanding each other when nobody else does
he hasn't suggested it to you yet, but he's been trying to create something that may help you to restore what you once lost...
Mephisto
you've never seen him act more sympathetic
his facade drops and you can see how much he actually cares about you
with his heart on his sleeve, he shares everything
he lets you know you're welcome in his arms anytime if you need anything, and while he won't admit he had the conversation with you, his actions change
Thirteen
at first she's outraged, but eventually calms down once she sees that you're not as upset
don't give her any names or she might accidently knock over their candle while working
when it comes to be their time naturally! she emphasis naturally, you can come help if you want
reaping is something she does respectfully and this is no exception, but she'd do anything for you
Raphael
he's very serious as usual when he offers to hunt down who did that to you
he wants to seek vengeance on your behalf
even if you tell him not to, part of him will always be thinking about doing it anyways and is always listening for details about them
from then on, anything you ask for, he's getting it done 100% if not already
#obey me#obey me!#obey me x reader#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me mephisto#obey me raphael#obey me solomon#obey me luke#obey me simeon#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date#omswd
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FFXIV fans this is your daily reminder that if Estinien has even a tiny fraction of Nidhogg's memories he knows a hell of a lot more than he's letting on.
Nidhogg remembers at least three Umbral Calamities, and probably four or five. Safe to assume he defended Coerthas from Allag, and that he heard Vrtra looking for Azdaja and the primal-ification of Bahamut through dragon song. The DRG 80 quest states Nidhogg considered himself guardian of the star after Midgardsormr. At his prime, Nidhogg may have even known or been trying to learn his father's abilities - the changing form, the crystals, possibly even the ability to speak with Hydaelyn. Theory time: Hydaelyn may have even rejected him for being a dragon supremacist.
Estinien's shortcomings (if you don't have another silly explanation for them) have to do with mortal knowledge and interactions, like niceties, coin, and bluffing immigration officers. He asks for the Scions to explains things because they have discovered stuff nobody knew before this, or they were using vocabulary he doesn't know.
In Shadowbringers the idea of Ascians doesn't phase him, but the different shards and time travel nonsense throw him for a bit of a loop, coincidentally things Nidhogg wouldn't know. He is very tense at the idea of the WOL seeing his memories, and leaves immediately, but after telling you he shares Nidhogg's memories in 5.5 he chills out and hangs around more. Like he saw the writing on the wall about joining the Scions and covered his own ass in case of an Echo vision.
In Endwalker the reason I think he said "At least I will not pretend to understand this talk of ancient primals or the Final Days" and the like is because he has to constantly sort out if what Nidhogg knew was correct. He is remarkably chill staring up at Hydaelyn like "ya bitch let's go let's fight God." What Hydaelyn said to Estinien about hate becoming love is ambiguous enough it could also apply to Nidhogg.
And you are still the only person he has directly told he shares some memories with Nidhogg. He is deliberately not sharing this with people. He doesn't want to be Nidhogg. Most of the information is pointless outside of Coerthas in the 7th astral era. He makes an exception when he is the only one who knows something important - there's a Great Wyrm behind the curtain, how to motivate depressed dragons, the Eyes of Nidhogg are active again better find them, Omega? wait the thing that chased Midgardsormr? if not me better make sure someone handles it, oh shit Zenos is standing back up that's not Zenos anymore-
Then he just wants to have a drink and some dried squid and chill out. Not get interrogated about past kingdoms, or have his brain and eyes poked at when he dies ( . . . if he's even mortal anymore.)
#estinien varlineau#estinien#estinien wyrmblood#ffxiv nidhogg#scions of the seventh dawn#ffxiv endwalker spoilers#heavensward#ffxiv spoilers#first brood#great wyrms#nidhogg#bahamut ffxiv#vrtra
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