#anyway if you think this is stupid you don’t know me

[pellucid-constellations]

I'd Answer

You've been gone. Azriel's been broken. Something has to change, and Azriel would do anything.

Part 2 of If You Cared to Ask

“This is for you,” Mor huffed, plopping down a small bouquet of roses onto the growing garden that seemed to have sprouted on the table. “What is that, number twelve?” 

“I don’t know, I don’t count them,” you brushed off, your gaze falling on the gifts for a fleeting moment.

Mor hummed. “Are they doing anything for you?” 

“Not particularly.” 

Your friend shuffled into the small sitting room and gracefully landed in the chair beside yours, her eyes piercing a hole in the side of your head when you refused to look up. She sighed, and then sighed again, making a show of slotting her chin in her palm and looking forlorn. 

The third sigh was your breaking point. 

You placed your book on the table and turned to Mor with your brows raised. “Yes?” 

“Oh, nothing,” she airily replied. “I was just wondering when you were going to give this up. You don’t have to forgive the guy, but at least put me out of my misery and let me tell him where you’re staying. I’m basically a delivery service at this point. He says sorry again, by the way.” 

“Oh, well in that case—” 

“More than just sorry, but I can’t remember everything he said. It was all rambly and his face was all gaunt.” Mor pressed her fingers up to cover her eyes. “I’m not even sure if he’s eating. Rhys had to stop sending him out because he almost fell out of the sky.”

“Is this supposed to make me feel bad?”

You hoped your ruse was believable because hearing that Azriel was doing so poorly did make you feel bad. Your heart lept up to your throat at the prospect of your mate falling from the sky from exhaustion. But he had had so many opportunities to make this right and you weren’t about to give up your anger so easily. 

Mor offered a sad expression that looked authentic this time. “Y/n, he loves you. He’s an idiot and the whole lot of them are mindless fools, but Azriel has never loved anything the way he loves you.” 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you snorted. “And he shows that love by forgetting me and then arguing when I’m clearly upset over it?” 

“I know. He told me how much of an ass he’s been. But, I promise you, I’ve known Azriel for a long time. He was just—just handling everything with Rhys poorly. He felt so so guilty when Rhys got trapped. You know that.” 

You bit the inside of your cheek and avoided Mor’s gaze. “I know.” 

The lack of vitriol in your tone had Mor perking up. “And you remember how hard he tried to get him back—how broken he was when Rhys sent out his last message. Az feels responsible for everything when it comes to his family.”

You didn’t need the reminder. The tortured way he carried himself over the past 50 years was evidence enough of the truth behind Mor’s words. And you had been there to soothe that pain, to help run the court that Rhys left behind. 

When silence persisted, Mor craned her neck to catch your gaze. “I’m not saying what he did was right, but you know he’s been in overdrive since Rhys returned. He goes off on those missions when Rhys calls, but… y/n, he only leaves without notice when his informants…” 

Mor trailed off. 

Your gaze finally flickered up. “When?” 

Mor bit her lip and winced. “He told me not to tell you this part. He said he didn’t want you to think he was making excuses.” 

“Tell me anyways.” 

“Fine. But you can’t rat me out.” Mor sighed and leaned back in the chair, still facing you. “He does go on every mission Rhys proposes, and that’s… stupid, but he tells you about those ones, I think. When he just up and leaves, it’s because—y/n, it’s because they're about you. You know there’s a slew of people that want you dead for your involvement up in Illyria. He has a team of informants with the sole purpose of listening for you name.

“He goes on Rhys’s missions because he doesn’t want his family separated again, but sometimes, it’s because he just wants to protect his mate.” 

A stone dropped past your ribs and into your stomach. “But, he never told me—” 

“You know these overgrown bats think that suffering in silence is an honorable thing to do,” Mor rolled her eyes. “They overwork themselves fighting the good fight or whatever and seem to forget that the rest of the world is still out there, facing the consequences of their actions. And… I think he just wanted you to feel safe. I think he’s been scared.” 

Something sickly climbed its way up your consciousness. You looked down at your hands as they rested in your lap. 

You hadn’t seen Azriel in six days, and each day had more anger coursing through you, building up a wall that you thought impenetrable. Because you were so angry; Azriel had disappointed you time and time again, left you feeling abandoned and alone, and then he got defensive about it as if you were the one at fault. 

Part of you always knew it was a defense of some sort, but you had thought it a defense of something nefarious. You had tossed around the idea of infidelity a few times, and that rivaled the thought of him simply falling out of love with you. 

But it was this. 

It was him hiding how hard he’d been trying to protect you—however idiotic his tactics may have been. 

“You can tell him where I am,” you murmured clenching your fingers into your palm. “And leave the door unlocked, I guess.” 

Mor had left the small apartment on the outskirts of Velaris before you finished your sentence. 

It took approximately 7 minutes for a tentative knock to sound at your door. 

Mor had left it unlocked, but there was still a knock. 

You took a glance at the pile of flowers on the table before heading to the front door. The old floorboards creaked under your feet, a reminder of the rundown apartment you had sought out after you left. It was a frantic process, searching for a place to stay; you hadn’t cared much for luxury or comfort.  

Opening the door was jarring. Azriel’s wings were half-raised as if he’d just flown down and then forgot how to control them. His face was pallid with dark smudges beneath his eyes. His hair was windswept, expected from the flight, but it looked tugged at and disheveled beyond that. 

“Hi.” 

Maybe you’d been looking him over too long because Azriel’s voice cracked at the single word. He sounded unsure, verging on afraid, and all you had done was pass over his figure with your eyes. 

You tightened your grip on the door handle. “Um, hi.” Your tone was harsher than you meant it to be. 

Azriel flinched. “I’m sorry, Mor said…” 

“No, I—Come in.” 

You stepped back and pushed the door open to accommodate his hesitant steps into your rental. Azriel stood in the middle of the space and wrung his hands as you shuffled behind him, a slight tremor showing in his fingers. You leaned back against the door with your own hands pressed at the small of your back. You watched Azriel’s lingering gaze trail over the flowers in the corner of the room. 

“You didn’t like them?” he meekly asked. 

Something inside of you hurt. 

“They were okay,” you answered. “But I didn’t want flowers.” 

Azriel nodded and his lashes fluttered shut. His hands twitched. 

“I’m sorry—for the flowers, I mean. They were a pathetic reason to send Mor to you. You wanted to be left alone.” 

“I did not want to be left alone, Azriel.” You kicked away from the door, bringing your arms across your chest for some form of protection. “I wanted you. I wanted you to care about me.”

“I do,” Azriel stressed. He took a step forward and the wood beneath his boot creaked. “I do, y/n.  I care about you more than anything—I love you.” 

“Then why couldn’t you show me? Why did it take me leaving, me getting hurt, for you to finally listen to me and see how much I’ve needed you?” 

Your chest was heaving, each word from your lips a choked gasp. Azriel took all of it and absorbed your full meaning, seeming to wince at every insinuation that he didn’t love you. His jaw quivered and he opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. 

“Why did you stop talking to me?” you asked, a broken rendition of your anger. “Why—Mor told me… She told me things. Things that make sense. But why does it feel like I don’t matter to you?” 

“My love,” Azriel stressed. Yearned. He rushed forward, abandoning all reservations and gathering you into his arms as tears began making headway down your cheeks. “I’m so sorry, baby. I can’t—I’m so so sorry.” His words were almost lost against your temple as he held you, each apology a whisper of a kiss against your skin. 

“You weren’t there and Devlon—he—” 

“I know, angel, I know and I’m so sorry. Had I known… Had I listened.” He pulled you back from his chest, crouching down to meet your eye and wiping tears from your cheeks. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was keep you safe. I thought I was doing that. I don’t know what Mor told you—” 

“She told me everything. She told me you’ve been following leads about me and taking on too much. She told me you’re scared.” 

Azriel breathed and it sounded anguished. “I am terrified. We lost Rhysand and now you are in the throes of a society that almost killed me. I—I wake up every morning and everything is good and I am so afraid to lose that. I thought I was protecting you, protecting us. But I almost lost you and—” 

You let out a breathy cry. “You could never lose me, Azriel.” 

He pressed his forehead to yours, the wetness of his cheeks now apparent. Azriel’s hands were firm on either side of your head and his fingers laced up into your hair. 

Gods, you missed him. 

You missed him and everything hurt. 

“I’ll do better. I’ll be better. Just please—please, don’t leave again. Please come home. Let me fix this.”

The want was overwhelming. It would be so easy to say yes, but it would be just as easy for nothing to change. 

“You can’t do that again, Azriel,” you stressed, shaking your head and causing your mate to draw back. Only a breath was left between you. “You have to tell me what’s going on. You can’t—you can’t leave me in the dark. You can’t make me feel like that.”

Azriel’s head shook in desperation. “I won’t. I promise I won’t.” 

“I need to know I can rely on you—trust you.” 

“You can, angel.” 

“I need to know that you love me.” 

A pained sound escaped Azriel’s throat. He licked his lips and reaffirmed his hold on your face, locking his eyes with yours in a beseeching gaze. 

“I love you more than life itself, angel. I couldn’t breathe when you were gone. I can’t believe I made you think that I don’t. You are my life. Let me show you. Please, let me show you.”

You tracked your eyes between both of his. “Okay, Azriel.” 

“I’m going to keep you safe.”

“I am safe.” 

“I love you.” 

"I know you do, Az. I know."

[superbat-love]

Clark: Uh, hi Bruce.

Bruce: Hey.

Damian: Are you two going to stare at each other forever? Because it’s getting awfully cold out here.

Clark: [clears his throat] I brought your son over. I think you left him behind at the zoo.

Bruce: Yes, sorry about that. I have Jon here, I mistook him for Damian. I’ve been meaning to drive him back to Metropolis, but you saved me a trip. Thanks.

Jon: Alfred gave me a huge bowl of chocolate ice-cream, dad! It was sooo good!

Clark: Thanks for looking after Jon. Well Damian, I’m glad to have met you again, even if it wasn’t exactly under ideal circumstances.

Bruce: What did he do?

Damian: Nothing! It was the stupid zookeeper’s fault.

Bruce: Damian…

Damian: The zookeeper’s still alive, okay? The monkey would have been happier here anyway.

Bruce: Damian, I told you to stop bringing home random animals. Don’t think I don’t know about the cow you’ve been hiding in your bedroom.

Jon: You have a cow?

Damian: Yeah! Her name is Bat-Cow. Do you want to meet her?

Jon: Wow, I wanna see her! Can I dad?

Clark: Um, sure, if it’s not a problem for you, Bruce?

Bruce: Go ahead. [Watches Damian pull Jon to his room] God, why did I decide to have kids?

Alfred: You have eight, sir. It’s a little too late to be having regrets now. [turns to Clark] Forgive us for our lack of manners, Mr Kent. Would you like to come in for a cup of tea?

Superbat Family Fics

[iamakinniecollector]

something stupid

a/n: well, I thought about it a bit and I think I'll try to write my ideas for bill cipher x reader, I love him so much, I can't wait to get his book ^^ (sorry if my english is wrong, it's not my native language, and I'm terrible at handwriting too)

warning: bill is the trigger itself, cringe, a little g0re, stalker

summary: bill can't say the words "I love you", so how does he show his love?

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to hand you a bouquet made of guts, you don't know if they're made of human guts or... anyway, it definitely doesn't matter what they're made of, right?

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to sing karaoke with you while you are both completely drunk.

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to say stupid and some even silly pick-up lines, like:

“Do you come here often? what a coincidence, me too! Did you know that?" you two are in your house.

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to ask how your day was, even though he already knows what it was like because he’s been stalking you all day. You can't blame him for enjoying hearing your voice!

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to own rats and use them to spell your name on the door of his house, it’s cute in a way, but it’s extremely stressful to get all those dead rats out and he knows it.

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to watch you sleep at dawn, he listens to your breathing and the beautiful beating of your heart, but don’t worry! He doesn’t do anything to you while you sleep… every now and then you wake up with a pen scratch on your face, lucky for you that pens aren’t permanent.

— Bill hates saying the words “I love you”, instead he prefers to spoil you and at the same time be spoiled (most of the time he prefers to be spoiled), this triangle is pure need juice, he is just a pre-teen.

— Bill hates saying the words "I love you", it's a stupid and idiotic phrase that humans invented, but sometimes he can't help but feel the urge to say something stupid like: I love you.

a/n: yes i made this based on the song "something stupid" let me be a stupid cringe

[liloinkoink]

hey guys, someone just sent me a weird ass ask claiming my incredibly close friend cherri @cherrifire secretly hate me and is talking abt me behind my back. i was not the only person to get one of these identical slanderous asks. i’ve already blocked the anon but like. open letter to them, and for the benefit of anyone else who gets an ask like this….

1) anon, you’re genuinely fucking stupid

2) hysterical to send this when i was actively chatting w her, while we were in the process of fleshing out yet another renchanting au, something we have done all day every day for… gosh, how long has it been now? nearly two years? i would say that it was really bad timing to send this ask to me while i was actively chatting aus w her but there really isn’t any moment you could have sent this that i wouldn’t have been.

3) if you thought i wasn’t gonna call bullshit and snitch immediately you don’t know shit about me or cherri, which, granted, is evident by the ask in general, but you really are stupid

4) if a gc like this existed—which it does not, bc cherri is not like this and would not do this—i would be in it. this idiot doesn’t even know im cherri’s emotional support writer. do you have any idea how many gcs and servers she’s dragged me into w her.

5) get your facts right cherri talks shit about me to my face. this is mutual. fake ass fan. if you were a real cherri friend you would know this smh

6) no, actually, you’re right, she definitely hates me. that’s why i met her irl literally like 3 months ago on her invitation, we hung out for a genuine week, spent basically the whole time arm in arm or hand in hand. this is also why we were planning a second meetup last night. you idiot. you fool. you complete and utter moron

anyway, if anyone gets this ask:

it’s complete bullshit. theyre sending this to cherri’s best friends for some godforsaken reason. it’s very weird and deeply cringe. also incredibly poorly planned. idk how many ppl you sent this to, but a few of us are in a gc and we have been making fun of this ask for like an hour (anon, im one of cherri’s friends and she’s been telling a small group of friends about you— lol. lmao even)

anyway like. to reiterate. cherri’s one of my best friends, she’s absolutely lovely and i’m lucky every day to know her. we hang out and chat constantly and we’ve met irl and it was an incredible experience i would love to repeat. i have told her things i have not fuckin told anyone else and you could not otherwise waterboard out of me. i love talking to her all the time and i miss her when she’s busy for even like, an hour. i love writing w her and creating things w her. she’s an incredibly bright spot in my life, often the first person i think of upon waking and the last i think of before i sleep. she is kind and funny and i love her a lot.

i’m a bitch tho so like @ this anon go fuck yourself. you better hope that when you die that the devil finds you before i do. sending this ask to a bunch of our friends, trying to turn the people she cares about against her, and for what? you clearly don’t know her well enough to be talking like this. trying to ruin my friend’s reputation and friendships w a vague as hell and entirely baseless copy paste is super fucking weird. why would you do this? and like, do you think we were born yesterday to fall for this? i’m insulted for her for whatever it was you were trying to pull and i’m insulted on behalf of myself and everyone else you sent this to that you think we’re as stupid as you are. what is your damage. get a hobby.

[arcanarix]

when satoru gojo has an all consuming crush turned oh my god i love this girl, he is absolutely a nasty dog about it. he makes it everyone’s, but especially your, problem.

Girl He Loves (which is you) waltzes into a meeting with the most normal clothes but it flatters your figure in the juiciest of ways to him? Oh he makes it known. guy is known for having no real sense of boundaries and he definitely comes on too strong without giving a single flying fuck about it, because he knows he’ll land you anyway. He can’t stop ogling your tiddies and ass and entire figure and the entire time yaga’s lecturing he’s sticking his tongue between a peace sign figure (with you knowing all too well what that means) Just asking to get a taste of that cunt. you ignore him. he gets off to that for some reason just thinking “aw yeah she digs me she knows she does”

you glare at him? Oh he thinks you’re making a pass at him and he confronts you in the halls between meetings or lectures or missions, trapping you with his body against the wall and all up close and personal and in your fucking SPACE. you want to tell him off but he has a stupid cute enough face that you can’t even be mad at him in spite of blowing off any and all of his advances.

you scoff at him? he thinks you’re just playing it too cool, insists that there’s no better option for you than him anyway (nanami begs to differ)

you yell at him? Oh fuck yeah, he loves it, practically gets off to it, even shows you discreetly in times where it’s just you and him, you’re so cute when you’re pissed

you ignore his texts? He’ll send fifty more he doesn’t care until you fucking answer

You don’t facetime him? (Because you hate it and you don’t want to date him) he shows up at your door to bug you even MORE

do you ever cave? who knows, you’re not even sure you really appreciate the attention because oh my god is satoru gojo fucking SUFFOCATING in every sense of the word.

[giannaln4]

I'm Sorry

lando norris x fem reader

summary: A moment of frustration made Lando react the way you never thought he would, and boy, would he regret it.  (1.6k words)

warnings: angst, swearing, argument, mean lando,  fluffy ending

a/n: ok so for this, i decided to go back to Baku and put the quali result in a totally different perspective than my last fic. i guess i kinda like it but i'm not very good at describing arguments 😭 anyway pls let me know what you think!!

ALSO i have an announcement to make and i'm really excited for it :)

check out the original request here!

↺ back to navigation — send me a request!

The qualifying this weekend was an absolute mess, to say the least. Lando was hard on himself no matter the result he got. Even if it was good, he would always find something to criticise himself, but P17? Everyone was in for a treat, you thought.

The worst part is that it wasn’t even his fault; it was a stupid mistake by the marshals, and he was not to blame for it. A yellow flag interrupted his lap, and he was immediately kicked out in Q1. 

Seeing the first qualifying session being over with his name in red was not something anyone wanted to see, especially not him, and now that every point was essential, you knew it crushed him.

He came back to the garage to see the rest of the qualifying with his team, and as soon as he got out of the car, you saw how frustrated he was. You understood him, of course, it sucked that this is how the weekend was going, but you would be there for him no matter what.

Once Lando took off his helmet, he headed straight to his driver’s room, and he didn’t even look at you when he walked past. That meant he wanted to be alone, but oh silly you, you decided to follow him.

He let out a loud sight when he heard the door open and close behind him, not really in the mood to hear what you had to say. He knew for a fact you were going to tell him he did well and it wasn’t his fault, which he greatly appreciated, but right now, he just wanted to suffer in peace.

“Baby?” You called him out, just testing the waters, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he hummed in annoyance. “I know you don’t want to hear this right now, but-”

“You are right, I don’t want to hear it,” he interrupted you, not even turning around to face you. He placed his hands on the desk and leaned into it, taking a deep breath. 

That should have been your cue to leave the small room and leave him alone, but for some reason you didn’t. “Lando, don't beat yourself up over this. It wasn’t your fault, and I’m sure things will be better tomorrow. We all know what you can do and you still have the race-“

“This is MY job, Y/N. I probably know better than you do,” he snapped, raising his voice and finally turning around. “This is what I’m fighting for, we all are. Do you know what’s at stake here? I finally have the chance to compete for a championship, and I just blew it.”

To say you were astonished was an understatement; this was the first time he ever snapped at you that way and you didn’t know how to react. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“Every point counts, and not even starting in the top 10 tomorrow- fuck, not even top 15, there is not much I can do.” Now, he looked more mad at you than frustrated at himself, and that crushed you. “I came here to be alone for a bit, I was hoping you would at least respect that." You stayed silent, knowing a single sound would make you cry, and you didn’t want to piss him off more than he already was. “I know you are trying to help, but you are not, you can’t.”

You just stared at him, tears threatening to leave your eyes; he had never raised his voice at you in a heated moment, and it hurt like hell. You definitely should have stayed outside. 

He walked towards the door and stepped out of the room without uttering another word, leaving you alone to deal with your own feelings. 

As soon as the door was closed, you started crying. It was your own fault, really; you could always read him like a book, even today, and you knew better than to disturb him when you weren’t supposed to, but today for some reason you just couldn't keep your mouth shut. Idiot.

You tried to calm yourself down; the last thing Lando needed was to see you cry on top of his result, but it was harder than you expected. This being the first time an argument got so out of hand made you feel absolutely terrible, especially because it was your fault. Deep down, you knew he didn’t mean it, you knew it was his feelings talking, but that didn’t make it any less painful.

A few minutes went by and you could still hear the cars out on track, the mumbling of the team, and people constantly working out there, so you tried to use that as a distraction. Anything to take your mind off what just happened. 

Unfortunately, it didn’t help, but at least you ran out of tears, and now you were just staring at a blank wall, thinking how you could begin to apologise for earlier, if he would even give you the chance to. 

Truth is, you weren’t sure if bringing it up again would be a good idea; you wanted to apologise for disrupting his cooldown moment, but what if hearing that made him mad again? Or worse, what if you didn’t apologise and made the situation even bigger? Your spiralling made you lose track of time, and a knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. 

“The car is about to leave, Y/N, they are waiting for you,” you heard someone say on the other side of the door. You were at least hoping Lando would come and get you once it was time to go back to the hotel, but he didn’t.

“Thanks, I will be there in a minute,” you replied, grabbing your things and Lando’s before sprinting outside. 

The car ride was hell. Lando didn’t look at you the entire time; he was just staring at his phone, texting who knows who, his face as neutral as ever. It felt longer than it actually was, and when you finally got there, he just stepped out of the car and didn’t look back. You let out a sigh and followed him, leaving a prudent distance between the two of you. 

Once you were in the hotel room, you both started to get ready for bed, like you usually did, except this time, you didn’t acknowledge each other. 

That was until you were already on your side of the bed and he came out of the bathroom, taking the spot next to you and burying his face on his phone again. The entire time you were building up the courage to say something, anything, now that you decided that apologising was the right thing to do.

“Lando?” You called for him, but again, he just hummed in response. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You were right, I shouldn’t have said anything, and I should have respected that you just wanted to be alone.”

That’s when it hit him. How could he get so mad at you for trying to make him feel better? 

He dropped his phone and turned to face you, and noticing your sad expression and teary eyes broke him. His eyes softened as guilt washed over him. Why were you apologising when he was the one who reacted like that? But as soon as you looked down at your hands to avoid eye contact and tears started falling down your face again, he felt even worse. 

“Y/N… Baby, I’m so sorry.” He got closer to you, softly taking your cheeks in his hands to get you to look at him. “Please don’t cry, I’m sorry I acted like a dick and raised my voice at you,” he stared, wiping your tears away, carefully thinking about what else he could say. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t know how to react. Your plan was to apologise and hopefully move on, but now that he was apologising, you didn’t know what to say; you didn’t want him to feel guilty, even though it was his fault you were in that position right now. If only he took a different approach. 

“It wasn’t your fault, okay? You were just trying to help, and I should have appreciated that, you know that I do, I just... I don’t know, there is no excuse for what I did.” But you were still silent and trying to avoid eye contact. “Baby, say something.” 

“Lando, you yelled at me.” You finally replied, your voice a bit muffled by your tears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have done that, and I promise I’ll never do it again.”

After a minute of silence, you just nodded, which made him let out a sigh of relief. “Okay.”

“Okay? I’m sorry, my love.” He pulled you into a hug, your head on his chest as he placed a soft kiss on your head. “I know I was a dick, and I really wish I was nicer about it.”

“It’s okay, I get it; you were frustrated with your result, and I should’ve known better than to interfere with what you were feeling.”

“No, it’s not okay. I was frustrated, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.” Lando was rubbing your back softly, trying to bring you the comfort you tried to give him earlier. “I love you, and I can’t describe how much I appreciate everything you do for me; I know having to deal with my shit is not easy, so thank you.”

“It’s fine, I mean it.” You looked up at him, locking eyes finally in the entire day. “Just... don’t push me away, okay? And if you do need to be alone, just say it, and I promise I will listen next time.”

“Okay, sounds good.”

He gently placed a hand on your check, rubbing small circles before leaning in for a kiss, one both of you much needed. And with one final ‘I love you’, you feel asleep in his arms.

[johnwickb1tsch]

Sympathy for the Devil ~ Part 14

A Donaka Mark x housekeeper!Reader fic, based on the amazing @discoscoob 's concept & bot!

Warnings: Donaka Mark is a bad man with a soft spot for you. dark romance, possessive behavior, nonconsensual voyeurism, red flag red flag girl!🔺, psychological games, power imbalance, dubcon/nsfw. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS!!!

one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven. twelve. thirteen.

Fourteen 十四

When the end of the day comes, you do not dare defy Donaka again so soon. You report to his room–and find it strangely empty. 

A single lamp burns at the bedside. You slowly make your way through, half expecting him to jump out at you just to hear you scream. But all you find is a note, with a beautiful little potted orchid beside it. The flower is certainly an unexpected touch, and you can’t stop yourself from stroking the meaty white petals. 

You read:

I’ll be out late. Make yourself comfortable. -D

There is a nightgown set out upon the bed. It looks like real silk, and you are relieved it’s nothing too ridiculous, no complicated straps or suggestive cutouts. Just soft, ivory colored fabric, thin straps, a little tasteful lace. You peek at the tag, and nearly fall over when you see Yves Saint Laurent. 

This garment may have cost as much as a plane ticket home.

You wander into the bathroom next, your brightly printed little travel bag of toiletries looking fairly ridiculous next to his sleek black boutique purchased items. You open a bottle of his lotion, taking an experimental sniff. Something light, slightly herbal. You’re fairly sure the characters on the label aren’t Chinese, but Korean. You put it down. 

You hate to admit that Donaka’s rainhead shower is pretty fucking fantastic after a long hard day. And so is his soft mattress, that feels like laying on a cloud. You don’t even have the energy to snoop around while he’s not here–and he’s probably watching you anyway. You’re not sure where the camera is yet, but you are sure it’s there.

You think on how the room is unlocked now, but you do not dare attempt an escape tonight. You almost wonder if this is a test–or a trap. It would be just like him to bait you like that. 

Feeling slightly cheeky since you’re all alone, you take your half out of the middle of the big bed, and snuggle up with a pillow that smells delectably of him. Even in his absence, you cannot escape Donaka Mark. Have fun watching me snore you big creep.  

You wonder where he is, before sliding into a surprisingly deep sleep.

You don’t know what time it is, only that it is still dark out, when he slips into bed behind you, moulding his long body around yours. You are not quickly coherent when woken from the depths of dreamland. In fact, it could be said that you are downright stupid. The sharp edges of your earlier fight forgotten in this state, you groan, snuggling back into his warmth. “Back so soon from committing acts of villainy?” you murmur.

You only think you’re making a joke.

His soft chuckle behind you is pure dark chocolate–bitter, yet somehow delicious. “Mmm hmm.” You slowly undulate against him as his big hand runs over your curves, the thin silk barrier between you a wickedly marvelous thing. “Were you a good girl while I was away?” His voice is a gravely rumble in your ear that curls your toes. 

“I thought about setting the house on fire, but I like it too much,” you grumble into the pillow. 

Again, he laughs lowly, a deep sound that awakens your desire once more. “I know you like it here,” he whispers into your hair, a possessive hand cupping your breast, lightly teasing your nipple. “I think you even like me. Just admit it.” 

“Not right now, I don’t,” you grumble, even as you writhe back against him, his erection pressing into the seam of your bottom a maddening thing. Maybe you’re still half asleep–but you really have lost your goddamn mind for this man. All thoughts of revenge have flown for now, replaced only by the warm, slow simmer of need for his body pressed against yours.

“No? Doesn’t feel like it.” You sigh as he slips his hand beneath the skirt of your nightie, finding nothing but bare skin, no panties to your name. “Oh, I like this,” he tells you, running his fingers up the sensitive seam of your legs. A plaintive whine escapes you, as he places his velvety fever-hot flesh between the soft cushion of your thighs, teasing you. “It feels…” He moves his hips just slightly, bestowing the barest minimum of friction. “Like you actually obeyed me for once.” 

It’s true. You didn’t give in to the low-burning desire that nearly drove you insane all the rest of the day. Partly because of his orders, and the way he scared you today, and partly…because you knew it just wouldn’t be as good without him.  

You growl into your pillow, hoping the cushioned down will mask some of your need for this man’s thick, beautiful cock inside you. It’s not fair, that such a bad man should be built as though the very shape of him was made for pleasing you.  

“What was that?”

“Just this once,” you sigh, and he chuckles behind you. 

“Hmm. I think someone wants her reward.” 

You hadn’t forgotten about it, though you’d figured at this point you’d never find out what he’d had in store for you. You doubt you’ll ever meet his standards for truly good behavior. 

“I want this,” you answer, squeezing his manhood between your thighs, angling yourself so that you almost capture the tip of him at your entrance. The sound he makes from deep in his chest raises gooseflesh all across your skin, your nipples tightening into aching points. You were no blushing virgin before you came here, but jesus christ has this man turned desire into a painful business for you. You’ve never wanted anyone before, to the point where you would throw yourself on a fire for them. It’s what this feels like, with Donaka Mark. Absolute self-immolation, and maybe you’re doing it with a reluctance, but it’s certainly not enough to stop you. 

He takes some mercy on you, and maybe on himself, when he grips your hip to penetrate your weeping cunt. But all he gives you is the tip, and glorious as it is, it’s just not enough. 

“More,” you whimper, and you’re not sure who breaks, when he eases himself home, filling you to the absolute brim. The sound of surprised satisfaction that is torn from your throat is barely human. You might regret it later, but at the moment you feel no pain. 

“I’m trying not to hurt you,” he grumbles. “But when you beg me so sweetly I want to fuck you silly, my sweet sweet girl.” 

You laugh, a strained huff of mirth, at the idea of him not hurting you. You know what he means, and yet…and yet. 

Coherent thought escapes you completely, when his thick fingers seek out your clit while he fills you like this from behind. You clench upon him greedily, needing more. He lets you take what you want upon him, gyrating your hips, fucking yourself upon his cock and his slippery fingers as his other hand teases the tips of your breasts, holding you fast against his broad chest. After walking around all day in your sad state of unfulfillment, your orgasm quickly fills you, tearing a ragged scream from your throat as the tingling ecstasy spills through your loins and spreads through your body, leaving you utterly spent and pliable in his arms.  

Only as you clench and flutter upon him does Donaka take his own pleasure, rolling you over to thrust from behind. Through the haze of your euphoria you are vaguely aware that he is still careful with you, and does not punish you like he could. The shudder of his hips and the hot rush of his seed is almost soothing inside you, and you know you are well and truly fucked. Completely deranged. Flown high over the cuckoo’s nest for this terrible man who has made his way inside your body, and inside your head. 

His gentle kiss on the back of your shoulder sears you like a brand–his forehead resting on your spine weighs like your inevitable surrender. Has he already won?

You don’t know. You don’t fucking know, this late at night, when you are rendered idiotic by desire and hormones and lack of sleep. For what feels like the umpteenth time that day, your eyes fill with tears and you are so glad for the darkness of the room that gives you some cover. 

When he recovers Donaka goes to the bathroom to clean up, bringing you a warm soft cloth to swipe between your thighs. As usual you aren’t sure if he’s caring for you, or simply doesn’t want you to stain the sheets and your new couture sleepwear. Maybe you’ll never truly know with this man, if his actions are based out of care or practicality with you. It’s a daunting thought you are too sleepy to give proper attention to. 

Donaka pulls you back into his arms, and you rest your cheek upon his broad chest, your legs entwined with his. 

“Where did you go tonight?” you ask quietly, not really expecting him to answer you, but partly hoping he will tell you something dastardly so that you can talk yourself out of this insane warmth that is blooming in your chest, taking root in your mind like some kind of brain-eating parasite.  

“I was watching a fight,” he tells you simply. 

“Like…a tournament match?” 

“Usually it’s more interesting than that.” He kisses your hair. “Not tonight though.” 

What he doesn’t tell you directly, is that the whole affair rather bored him, and tonight, he couldn’t wait to come home to you. The fighter he’d been cultivating failed to finish things the way Donaka wanted, so he’d killed him with his bare hands. Even that didn’t give him the pleasure it used to. Once he would have basked in the power of it, the feeling of superiority over yet another fighter culled, an imposter who had no right to the true title of Warrior. But tonight, he could not stop thinking that this is a side of him he could never show to you. 

It would ruin everything. 

This night, he just got into his Bugatti, and tore home with his mind on you. 

Annoyed by the time he came through the door, he stood at the foot of the bed for a good ten minutes just watching you sleep, wondering who was changing who. He reasoned that he just has to be careful with you; that his obsession does not come to rule him, rather than the other way around. A part of him wondered, as you slept so innocently, if he should just dispose of you now and return to his purer pursuits. 

The thought did not please him, so this time, he chose not to. 

Oblivious to all this, you lay there wondering why his chosen diversion wasn’t interesting to him. Did it have anything to do with you? 

“Donaka–” 

“Sleep,” he tells you firmly, shutting you down, and effectively leaving you with that one last enigmatic line to worm its way into your thoughts. Like a parasite, you try to tell yourself. A gross, wormy, wriggly thing. 

But this man whose side you are curled up against doesn’t feel like a worm. He feels warm and solid and his strong, steady heart is beating like a drum beneath your ear. You like this, and maybe he’s right. Maybe you do like him, a little bit. 

You really are well and truly fucked. 

[honibumii]

"... You all better pay me after this."

Another one!! Srry keep posting more of this stuff its just too fun 😭😭😭

Anywayss another entry for the ragu music weeks event from @raguiras !! A Riff/Hazard background vocalist 🗣️🔥🔥🔥

voicelines + info below ⬇️⬇️

VOICELINES

Summon: Now that we are up here, yall better NOT embarrass us!!

Groovyfication: Look up... feel the beat, and give your heart out... For the love of the Seven HOW DID I END UP HERE???!

Set to Homescreen: The performance day is approaching very fast... would you help me breathe, please?

Home transition 1: Surprisingly enough, im not so bad at singing.

Home transition 2: Did you know that the musical genre which mixes hip hop and rock its actually called "rap rock" ? Yeah, I looked it up.

Home transition 3: The feeling the stage evokes is so... powerful...

Home after login: This outfit is really cool, dont get me wrong. Its just... It looks embarrassing on me.

Home transition Groovyfication: Shut up and give me that mic!

Tap Home 1: Floyd tried to put a cat bell on my choker. Looks like I'll have fish for dinner today.

Tap Home 2: Ace is SO clearly jealous of Allen and Deuces relationship its actually embarrassing, though to be fair they do be super cute together, so its understandable. I'll give him that.

Tap Home 3: Day 12 of asking Allen to give my solo to literally anyone else... Oh yeah!? I dont care if its "just a single line" ! I shouldn't even be on the stage in the first place!!!

Tap Home 4: Me? Oh, I'm more of a hyperpop kinda person, to be honest.

Tap Home 5: I used to sing lullabies for the younger kids at the orphanage. Maybe thats where I got the little knowledge I have on singing, I think? Hmm...

Tap Home Groovyfication: Vargas better NOT have lied to me about passing me on swimming lessons in exchange of doing this or I SWEAR those stupid gym clothes of his will end up reduced to SHREDS.

Duo Magic:

Heera: Get up already, Housewarden!

Leona: Don’t tell me what to do, kitty.

LIL INFORMATION <3

Heres the full concept for the outfit bc I LOVED doing it and I was so SAD when I realized I wouldn't use it all....... *sniff* and also a lil stupid doodle bc yeah reminder that he uses glasses LMFAO

Also!! While designing her outfit I was listening to this song specifically...

... which I also Is a song he would actually sing in the event if he were to have a whole song to himself! (lore related... maybe...... hehehe)

Also yeah I did in fact search what was the actual genres name I DID NOT LIE!! IT IS RAP ROCK!!!

ANYWAYS TY MIONN AGAIN FOR THE WONDERFUL CONCEPT AND EVENT AND ALL <333,

[my-mt-heart]

Idk how to say this but I am not as bothered about whatever is going to transpire between Daryl and Isabelle (bcoz for one thing - we know what is going to happen in the end- and for another - I honestly believe that the male execs are not at all confident abt their vision for these two as they would like to be and the whole thing would prolly boil down to ambiguity and ultimately- it will fall upon the viewers to dissect how Daryl feels - the Caryl fandom especially is really adept at reading into storylines - even stupid ones) None of this is good by any means. It cheapens the integrity of all the characters involved. It blatantly insults and reduces female characters - I believe that Isabelle deserves better. That a story should hold space for multiple female characters. Also - I am worried about putting the fate and the story of one the best female characters on TV (Carol) in the hands of someone who has proven that he can't be trusted to handle them with care. Reading S2 reviews - I am sort of reassured that Carol is treated well enough in the story - which I believe - has a LOT to do with Melissa McBride's input. Going forward - it is going to be more difficult bcoz once we have dealt with old traumas - we do need to evolve these characters and make sure they don't stay stagnant. I don't believe Zabel has the chops to do that.

sorry for that rant. I am just really frustrated.

What I worry about is the way all of this bts stuff amongst the male execs is going to impact the Caryl dynamic. Whatever the antis may think - and while McReedus has insane chemistry - I do believe that the romantic energy is generated between them by a lot of their acting choices (bcoz the underlying story is teasing a romance). What happens to all that when a romance is completely off the table? When AMC has been pushing this friendship narrative down our throats in a very evident bid to do damage control - the insecure/defensive promo that we have been getting last few weeks is proof enough that Caryl was always more than friends?

The problems were already glaringly obvious from the very beginning. the fact that Melissa isn't billed equally for a season where she is proclaimed to be the major focus? It is not even about Caryl going canon for me anymore. I love Melissa and Carol way too much for me to give up yet but I treasure the Caryl bond primarily bcoz they have always been each other's everything. it is truly a bond that evades definition. Both Carol and Daryl doesn't have what they have with each other with anyone. THAT IS A CANON FACT. I don't think I can watch that dynamic that I treasure so much being butchered - s11 was painful enough - I can't go through all of that and more again.

Going to watch s2 and then my further commitment will depend entirely upon how the characters are treated and their dynamic is portrayed?

It sucks that I am dreading watching Carol and Daryl back together on screen.

been here just for a few months but the way AMC has been fumbling with this promo - have you guys always experienced this whiplash or is it a new thing?

I’m going to include big spoilers in my response, so proceed with caution ⚠️

I respect your opinion, but I disagree with you on the point about Daryl’s and Isabelle’s arc. It seems like the male EPs (Zabel, Nicotero, Gimple) are overly confident that an explicit romance between their male hero and a younger blonde nun who accused Daryl of being like his abusive father just for trying to go home to his family will attract a larger male audience and they aren’t sparing any feelings with it because we aren’t their ideal audience anyway. To them, we’re just a bunch of “hysterical” shippers whose POV’s don’t matter and we can just take their crumbs. AMC is a bit more complicated, but I’ll get to them later.

Daryl and the nun kiss in 202, so there’s little to no room for us to dissect how Daryl is feeling. Isabelle’s death is the furthest thing from a relief because 1) it reduces her character down to man pain like you said and 2) from what I’m gathering, it completely overshadows Caryl’s reunion and then their entire arc. We get another hug that does absolutely nothing to elevate their relationship and then Carol has to face that Daryl didn’t need her to rescue him because he found a new family and become his emotionally supportive friend to help him through his grief of a lost love interest he’s known for a few months. It almost feels like it’s going to be a retread of Beth’s death, only worse. We know how Greg Nicotero views both of those relationships and to be blunt, the man needs to stop projecting his creepy fetishes onto Daryl and making it our problem 🤢

The way the story is framed, it’s not even about Caryl at all. They’re the relationship we’re the most invested in and yet all the emotional weight is given to a highly problematic relationship that developed over a dozen ish short episodes (compared to Caryl’s decade+ of emotional depth) and it’s all for nothing too. Zabel just resets Daryl like the hokey network procedural writer he is. And Caryl fans are rewarded for their years-long loyalty by getting more ambiguous subtext to analyze? Really?

I think you’re spot on about Melissa though. The reason she’s the bright spot of the season, the reason Carol’s individual arc feels true, and her spiritual connection to Daryl stays alive is because Melissa influenced all of that. She’s shown us time and time again that she understands her character so deeply and respects her fans. It really breaks my heart because I think she had a beautiful story in mind for Carol and she deserves all the support in the world, but as I’ve said many times, if damage is done to the character who has been written as her soulmate for over a decade, damage is also done to her. And I can’t watch that. I can’t watch the destruction of my favorite characters and my favorite relationship and put money in AMC’s pockets for gaslighting me. Retconning Caryl’s relationship into a platonic friendship is their way of protecting themselves from backlash. “Daryl isn’t emotionally cheating because he and Carol have always been besties?” “We didn’t mislead you. We told you they were friends, so you dumb shippers are doing this to yourselves. Please watch our slop anyways ✌️” They’re even trying to shift responsibility to Melissa by making her answer the shipping questions despite the fact that it’s Daryl’s arc throwing a wrench in everything and I expect that to continue at NYCC/Palyfest. It’s completely unethical and it’s backfiring.

Zabel cannot write for Daryl and Carol. He keeps showing us that he doesn’t understand their bond nor does he value it. A couple of the reviews mentioned it felt like Carol was shoehorned into certain aspects of the story, which tracks with what I already knew—that he and the other EPs think she’s hindering the story they want to tell about men doing manly things. That’s why they try so hard to challenge her significance to Daryl’s story and that is not going to change just because they’re moving to another location. Somebody like that should not have power to decide her trajectory. Fuck whatever he has planned for S3. I don’t want it. I still want Caryl and I still want to see them get the stories they deserve, but that’s only going to happen if we get a new showrunner who respects them and respects their fans. In case it needs to be said, Gimple is not that guy either (he can fake his enthusiasm on SM all he wants 🖕🖕🖕). A complete rebranding of the show to something that honors the characters and gives Melissa her dues (equal billing, title, etc) is the only way I’m tuning in now🤷🏻‍♀️ I don’t have the emotional capacity to sit through S2, but I will be here, speaking up, to make sure Melissa gets all the necessary praise and those assholes can’t blame her if the show tanks.

I’ve only been here a few years and there’s been a lot of turn over at AMC even just in that time (I kid you not, all of our problems can be traced back to Josh Sapan leaving. He loved Caryl and Melissa). That being said, I cannot for the life of me understand why any of the guys over there (even the misogynistic ones) would approve of the Daryl/Isabelle arc after the PR disaster that Leah caused not even that long ago and at least for that, the arc tied back to romantic Caryl and we weren’t subjected to any uncomfortable physical intimacy. Why the fuck would they make the same mistake? Why the fuck do they have to spend more time cleaning up messes than avoiding the mess altogether at every fucking opportunity they had (and they had a lot). I just don’t get it. And I’m so tired of taking the abuse.

[definatelymrhyde]

TGS Page spoilers September 23 2024!!!!

Alright it’s time to analyze this. Robert Lanyon you are so Landone because I am picking apart your little speech right here right now

This is LOOOOONG so there WILL be a TLDR at the end!!

“Nothing but a line from a stupid play.”

“What?”

“What does all this rogue science business get you, in the end? Sure you get the odd novelty - - an invisible cat, a hot air balloon or two. But in return it tears your life apart.” - This is Lanyon mainly speaking on how he sees everything and what he’s observed yet again. All he’s heard about rogue science was confirmed to be true, Henry’s promise of telling him if he ever went to far is broken. He’s not going to trust anything ANY rogue scientist says at ALL this time. He’s not even gonna give them a chance. His point of view and opinion had suddenly (probably) solidified and likely won’t be changed, easily at least.

“The signs were there, looking back. It was so obvious that Henry was slipping away.”

Lanyon CALLS HIM OUT. Like. Dude. Buddy. It WAS obvious, but only to someone who could have KNOWN what was happening.

“And I helped him.”

Lanyon believes he helped make this all happen. And that by proxy, Henry’s condition is HIS fault, at least partially. As much as he seems weirdly calmly angry, he’s masking it in order to seem like he’s not sad.

“I brought people from all over London to see this place, to sell them this beautiful lie.”

Again he blames himself, and shifts some of it onto the lodgers.

“It would have been better if you’d destroyed this place. If you had, I might have been able to rescue Henry from himself.”

Lanyon stating he belives the society should have been destroyed. Gone. That it was an utter mistake involving himself (and Henry, even if it was Henry’s own choice, and HE chose before Lanyon did) In this whole thing.

“But now he’s possessed by a demon, or whatever the hell Hyde is.”

Actually? Good point, Lanyon! We don’t know for SURE what TGS Hyde is. Sure we have a general idea, but we’ve never been told in specifics and had it verbally confirmed.

TLDR;

Lanyon masks his blame and sadness with a facade of just playing up the pre-existing anger. He doesn’t think Henry could have done this on his own and that the society and the support it got from Lanyon and a little bit the lodgers was what pushed Henry to do this to himself. He states what we’re questioning, ‘what is Edward Hyde, really?’ Because we’ve never got a confirmed awnser from anyone in story, have we now?

AND FINALLY; A THEORY.

I think that he’s going to up and walk away. Any previous statements I’ve made in like,, Lodger Lounge or other servers ABOUT Lanyon dying? IGNORE THOSE I DONT THINK THAT ANY MORE. I think we’re gonna get some in depth emotions for Lanyon, which is unusual because like,, it’s Lanyon he is NOT getting caught openly expressing that shit. I think we’re gonna get a much deeper understanding of Robert ‘not my problem is my middle fucking name’ Lanyon!! That’s my prediction.

Anyways, making analysis of these guys my new job if anybody wants a character analysis (at least from my pov having a 100% in my English class as of now. Yes. That’s literally my ONLY qualification besides being the author of a fic that puts TGS Jekyll’s struggles into perspective.) just hand em over I don’t care. So long as it’s TGS? I’ll analyze it just give me a segment I don’t care, fanfic that’s deep and analyzesble? I’ll do it? A specific page or collection/progression of dialogue? I’ll do it. HAND IT OVER.

[dreamofbecoming]

listen i know we all love steve “completely ignorant of queer culture to the point that bisexuality is a surprise” harrington being roasted and educated in turns by robin and eddie, yadda yadda, good stuff. i read “they made a horror version of rocky?” in a fic recently and cackled. also a big fan of “he knew he was bi from the start and just never talked about it” as a trope, love it excellent well done

but what about steve who realizes after starcourt that the most important person in his life now has this thing that’s a major part of her life that he knows nothing about, and what if he fucks it up? what if he says something ignorant or rude by accident, and hurts her? what if he loses her because he didn’t know the right thing to say? what if he can’t keep her safe because he doesn’t know what to look out for? absolutely fucking not, this steve says

and listen she’d never say anything, because she can tell that he can tell how much she likes teasing him and teaching him things, so he plays dumb, and she thinks it’s very sweet. but she notices when the zines she keeps under her bed that she buys at that one secret bookshop in indy when she can sneak away on family trips start going missing, always one at a time, and replaced in a few days with another disappearing. and she finds the new ones he must have gone to buy the weekend she was at her aunt’s house hidden in the back of his closet when she goes to steal one of his sweaters. and she notices when he slips more of her queerer movie recommendations into his personal take home pile rather than the movie night stack when he thinks she’s not looking.

she doesn’t notice when he drives to indianapolis after she tries to explain to him why she can’t just ask out a cute girl, tries to impress on him the fear attached to every moment of attraction that he simply has never had to feel, but later she finds a crumpled receipt from a diner in one of his jacket pockets when she’s looking for his keys, and the address is across the street from the bar the gorgeous woman at the bookstore told her about, the one she memorized the address of but hasn’t worked up the guts to think about visiting, and she knows he must have gone looking for a place like that, must have been trying to understand, must have been scoping it out to make sure it was somewhere she could feel safe, after she told him she never had.

so when eddie nearly pops a blood vessel when they clock each other and she mentions that steve is the only person she’s ever come out to before, her hackles come up. because she gets it, she does, he’s only known king steve until recently, so it makes sense that he would be afraid, be concerned for her safety.

but steve is her person, and no one- no one- has ever made her feel as protected or as cared for as he does. no one has ever tried as hard to understand her, no one has ever put so much work into making her feel safe and seen and loved. and she thinks maybe even if no one else ever does, that’s ok. because she has steve, and more importantly steve has her, and that means no one gets to question his ally credentials in her presence without a dressing down to remember, no matter how well they mean or how recently they helped save the world.

(and maybe she’s not as surprised as she could be when he figures out bisexuality all on his own, because she’s been reading all the same pamphlets he has, after all. and she’s seen the way he looks at eddie, i mean come on. maybe no one else has noticed, but then, nobody knows steve harrington like she does.)

[thetriangletattoo]

grocery shopping

[pluvio-floret]

..Nothing at all?

[nuppu-nuppu]

Ignore if you don’t want to read about me being stupid once again

[seilon]

please don’t by k.will did more for the gays back in 2012 than any boy group can possibly do with fan service and crop tops in 2024