you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.
Ch.10 - Still Here.
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genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)
pairing: Jeff The Killer x Reader
WC: 2.5k
content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.
Reader discretion is advised.
Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.
do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.
When you wake up, it's 5 PM. The light outside your window is fading, casting long shadows across your room. You sit up slowly, feeling groggy and disoriented. The dreams you had were twisted and strange, filled with static and whispers, leaving you with a sense of unease that clings to your skin.
You drag yourself out of bed and into the living room, trying to shake off the heaviness in your limbs. The first thing you notice is Jeff’s hoodie, carelessly tossed over the back of the couch, the bloodstains on it still dark and dried. Your frustration flares up immediately, knowing he’s still around.
You scan the room and see him standing in the kitchen. He’s shirtless, wearing just his black jeans, his scarred torso on full display as he rummages through the fridge. A carton of milk is in his hand, and he’s drinking straight from it.
"Are you serious?" you snap, your irritation spilling over. Jeff turns slowly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, his grin already stretching across his face.
"Morning, Petal," he says, completely unfazed by your anger.
"Why aren’t you gone?" you demand, stepping toward him.
"I already told you," he shrugs, leaning against the counter with the milk carton still in his hand. "I’m not leaving until I’m satisfied."
You roll your eyes and march over to him, snatching the carton out of his hand. "And what the hell does that even mean?" You shove the milk back into the fridge, slamming the door with more force than necessary.
Jeff’s eyes follow your movements, his grin never wavering. "You’ll find out soon enough," he says casually, leaning back on the counter, arms crossed. "Relax, Petal."
"Stop calling me that," you growl, turning away from him.
"You leave petals at every scene, don’t you? It fits," he says, his tone laced with mockery.
You glare at him, the mention of the person you really are making you tense, but don’t bother responding. You’re too tired, too frustrated to keep going back and forth with him. You grab your phone and sink onto the couch, scrolling through your apps, trying to find something to distract yourself from his presence.
Jeff, of course, doesn’t let you. Before you can even blink, he snatches your phone right out of your hands.
“What’s this?” he taunts, holding it just out of reach. “Got any dirty secrets in here?”
“Give it back,” you snap, lunging for it, but he dodges easily, his laugh grating on your nerves.
“No nudes, huh? That’s a shame.”
“Jeff!” you shout, swinging at him. You manage to hit his shoulder, but it only makes him grin wider.
In your frustration, you lunge at him again, but this time, Jeff catches your wrist, pulling you down on top of him. You end up straddling him, knees pressed into the cushions of the couch, and for a second, neither of you move.
Jeff looks up at you, amusement flickering in his eyes. “Comfortable?” he murmurs, his hands resting on your hips.
You feel a flush creep up your neck and scramble off of him, grabbing your phone and muttering, “You’re such an asshole.”
He lets out a low chuckle as you storm into your room, slamming the door behind you. Leaning against it, you take a few deep breaths, trying to shake off the strange tension that lingers in the air.
---
You pull on a hoodie and head for the shower, hoping the heat will help clear your mind. The steam fills the small bathroom, and you stand under the spray for a long time, letting the water wash away the frustration. But no matter how hard you try to relax, the image of Jeff’s smug grin keeps resurfacing.
By the time you step out of the shower, you’ve made up your mind to go out. You need space—real space—and maybe even a release for the tension that’s been building inside you.
After dressing, you head out into the living room again, where Jeff is lounging lazily on the couch. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes following you as you grab your keys and head toward the door.
“Where’re we going?” Jeff asks, and you freeze, knowing he has no intention of letting you go alone.
“You’re not coming,” you say flatly, grabbing a jacket and pulling it on.
“Sure I am,” he replies, pulling on his shoes before standing up and stretching. "I haven’t had my fun yet."
You don’t bother arguing with him. You just head out the door, and Jeff falls into step beside you.
His jacket discarded back at your apartment, now wearing his tank top, and one of your black surgical masks he reluctantly put on after you forced him to.
---
The grocery store is dimly lit, its fluorescent lights flickering as you walk through the aisles. You keep your head down, focusing on what you need—bread, milk, a few cans of soup, the essentials.
Jeff, on the other hand, makes no effort to blend in. He saunters behind you, his hood up but doing nothing to hide the scars that twist across his arms, neck and torso. People stare openly, their eyes widening in a mix of horror and confusion when they catch sight of him. A young woman pushing a cart with her child practically runs to another aisle the moment she sees him.
A group of teenagers snicker nervously as Jeff walks past them, but their laughter quickly dies when Jeff shoots them a cold, calculating look. You glance over at him, but he just shrugs, clearly enjoying the reactions.
"You're really something, aren't you?" you mutter under your breath as you grab a loaf of bread.
"You noticed?" Jeff smirks, leaning against a shelf and watching you with a lazy interest.
The woman at the checkout counter is visibly shaking as she scans your items, her hands fumbling as she bags your groceries. She doesn’t say a word, her eyes flicking nervously between you and Jeff.
You scoff, obviously done. And walk out of the store, nothing in hand.
---
When you get back home, you slide a large knife from the kitchen and tuck it into your hoodie pocket. Jeff doesn’t notice—he’s too busy rummaging through whatever the fuck is left in your fridge, like it’s the most fascinating thing.
You slip back into your room and quietly open the window, climbing out into the cold night air. The darkness is thick, the streets empty as you move swiftly toward the edge of town, where the forest begins to loom just beyond the streetlights.
You don’t know the forest well, but it’s secluded, and that’s all you need. As you make your way deeper into the shadows, you spot a man stumbling out of a nearby bar. He’s drunk, barely able to stand straight.
Perfect.
You approach him with a smile, your voice soft and inviting. "Hey, you look lost. Need some help?"
The man blinks at you, his eyes glassy. "Yeah... yeah, sure. That’d be... that’d be great."
You guide him away from the bar, toward the entrance of the forest. It’s dark, the trees casting long shadows, but you don’t go too far in. You stop just at the edge, where the streetlights can barely reach.
When the man turns to face you, confused by the sudden stop, you strike. The knife slices through his throat in one clean motion, blood spilling out in a hot spray. He chokes, eyes wide with shock, but it’s over quickly. His body crumples to the ground, and you stand over him, breathless, the familiar rush flooding your veins.
You don’t linger. You leave the body at the edge of the forest, a petal from the red spider lily tucked beside him like a signature. You don’t dare go deeper into the trees, not when you don’t know the way yet.
---
By the time you get back to your apartment, your clothes are splattered with blood, and the weight of the kill is settling into your bones. You strip off your clothes and toss it aside, heading straight for the shower. The hot water washes the blood from your skin, but it doesn’t wash away the feeling—the satisfaction, the calm that comes after the storm.
After drying off, you collapse into bed, your mind heavy with the events of the night. Exhaustion pulls you under, and for a few hours, you’re lost in a deep, dreamless sleep.
---
It’s around 3 AM when you wake up suddenly, the sound of voices pulling you from the darkness. You sit up, groggy and disoriented, blinking in the dim light of your room.
You hear the voices again—low, murmuring from the living room.
Creeping toward the door, you crack it open just enough to peek out. Jeff is standing near the front door, talking to two men. They’re both dressed in yellow—one in a hoodie, the other in a jacket. Their faces are covered, but their conversation sends a chill down your spine.
“This is taking too long,” the one in the jacket says, his voice rough. “He wants her there.”
Your heart skips a beat. Her. They’re talking about you.
The other man nods. “We’re running out of time.”
You lean against the door, your mind racing. But then the floor beneath you creaks, and all three heads snap toward you.
Your breath catches in your throat as Jeff’s eyes lock onto yours. There's a flicker of amusement in his expression.
Without thinking, you slam the door shut and twist the lock, your heart pounding in your chest. The silence on the other side is thick and suffocating.
Who is 'he'?
You freeze, your heart pounding so hard it feels like it might burst from your chest. The conversation outside your door sinks in—the cryptic, disturbing words circling in your mind.
“He wants her there.”
You know they’re talking about you. But the who, the why—it’s all a mystery wrapped in layers of fear and confusion. Your breathing quickens as you press your back against the wall, willing yourself to remain calm.
What now?
A voice from the other side of the door breaks the silence. It’s Jeff, his tone low and almost amused. “... What are you doing?”
You can’t bring yourself to answer, the cold fear settling in your stomach like a stone. You hear a soft chuckle, and then Jeff speaks again, this time more insistent. “Open the door.”
You remain frozen in place, torn between the urge to open it and the desire to stay hidden in the relative safety of your room. Your hand hovers over the lock, your mind screaming at you not to let him in, not to trust him, but there’s something more than fear gnawing at you now—curiosity. You need answers, and despite every warning sign flashing in your head, you know Jeff has them.
The silence stretches out, thick and heavy. Finally, you hear the other two men speak, their voices barely more than whispers. It’s impossible to make out what they’re saying, but you catch a few words—time, orders, patience.
Jeff sighs, clearly frustrated, before his voice takes on a sharper edge. “This would be a lot easier if you didn’t eavesdrop, you know?”
You glare at the door, clenching your fists. He always knows how to needle you, always trying to push your buttons, and right now you don’t have the patience for his games. But before you can respond, there’s a shift in the energy outside. You hear footsteps, the two men moving away from the door, and the front door of your apartment clicks shut softly. They’ve left.
For a long moment, you stand there in the suffocating quiet, waiting for something—anything—to happen. You can hear your own breathing, shallow and fast, mixing with the faint hum of static that still lingers at the edge of your hearing. It’s there again—the Operator’s presence, always just on the edge of your awareness.
Then, a soft knock at the door. You jump, your body tense, but it’s just Jeff. You can tell by the laziness in the knock, like he’s not even worried.
“I’ll explain. Just open the door, Y/N.”
You hesitate for a moment, every instinct screaming at you not to trust him. But what other choice do you have? Slowly, you unlock the door and pull it open, just a crack. Jeff’s face greets you, that infuriating smirk plastered across his lips, but his eyes are serious—dark and focused.
“See? That wasn’t so hard,” he says, stepping inside and closing the door behind him.
You glare at him, folding your arms over your chest. “Who the hell were they? And what the hell was that about?”
Jeff runs a hand through his messy hair, the cocky grin fading slightly as he leans against the wall. “You’re in the thick of it now, Petal. That wasn’t some random encounter earlier. The Operator—he—has plans for you. You’re part of something bigger.”
Your stomach tightens at the mention of the Operator again. “What does that mean? Why me?”
Jeff shrugs, looking almost bored. “I mean, you decided to become a serial killer, so that’s that. I’m not exactly in the loop when it comes to his grand designs. But those two guys? They work for him too. Guess they’re just here to check up on things, make sure you’re... cooperating.”
“Cooperating with what?” you ask, the frustration building inside you again. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“Yeah, well, tough shit,” Jeff replies, blunt and unbothered. “Once the Operator sets his sights on someone, you don’t get a choice. You’re in it whether you like it or not.”
You sink onto the edge of the bed, your head spinning. This can’t be happening. You thought your life was already screwed up, but now it feels like you’ve been dragged into something darker, something far beyond your control. The Operator wants you, but for what? What role do you play in all of this? What the hell even is an Operator?
Jeff watches you quietly for a moment, his usual sarcasm taking a backseat as he studies your expression. His eyes flicker with something... softer, almost like concern, but it’s gone as quickly as it appeared. “Look,” he says, his voice a little quieter now, “You’ve got me, and I’m not going anywhere.”
You scoff, shaking your head. “I don’t know you, Jeff. And I’m just supposed to trust you?”
He leans closer, a sly grin tugging at his lips again. “Whether you like it or not, I’m all you’ve got. You might as well get used to me.”
You stare at him for a long moment, trying to read him, but Jeff is as unreadable as ever. His grin never falters, but there’s something in his eyes—something darker, deeper, that makes you uneasy.
Finally, you let out a long breath, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. “Fine,” you mutter.
”Also,” He stops in his tracks, we’re going back to the grocery store tomorrow, there’s nothing to eat in this fuckin’ place.”
“There literally is.”
“There are ingredients in your fridge, not already made food, do i look like i want to make food? Fuck that.”
As he leaves your room, you feel the weight of everything pressing down on you—the Operator, the men in yellow, the unknown future hanging over your head. You’re in the thick of it now, and there’s no going back.
But for now, at least, you have a little bit of time. Time to figure out your next move. Time to understand what’s coming.
And as you lie back in bed, trying to ignore the faint static still lingering in your ears, you can’t shake the feeling that your life is no longer your own.
All i can say for my absence is: College 👍 (also im planning out an ARG with my best friend so that’s been keeping me busy too)
BY THE WAY THIS CHAPTER WAS SUPPOSED TO GO WAYYY DIFFERENTLY BUT I GOT TIRED 😭
TAGLIST - OPEN (comment to be added)
🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007 @hey-an-original-url
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The Walten Files 4 - CyberFun Tech / Speeches for Dr Frankenstein, Margaret Atwood.
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HI I think I sent an ask a while back about having recently found TaTA and a) if it came off as trying to rush/guilt you. I am so sorry because that was NOT my intent, and b) I can hugely guarantee you have at least one person who will eat up any return, no matter when it happens, because I care about the guys so much 🥺 really looking forward to whatever comes next!!
Oh, I appreciate this a lot thank you!
Tbh it's a stress I would have regardless of anyone asking me about it, I'm probably the biggest one rushing and guilting myself on it. Which might contribute to some of the burnout I had...
My complaints are more about people who are demanding "more content daddy" or asking me if I'm dead or asking on every single post I make where it is... Wondering when it's coming back is completely reasonable, it's been a long time! but there's definitely a line haha
my editor also keeps randomly scheduling me and then saying "oh, btw you're scheduled to return in 3 weeks. Is that alright?" And I have to keep saying no, that's not alright??? And then dealing with that process...
I could write an essay about all the reasons it's not back yet, but that doesn't help me feel any less pressured, and it doesn't help you all get the rest of the comic any faster...
As of right now I'm scheduled to and trying to return october 21. No official announcement yet cause I have to do a lot of work in that time, but it's my official goal at least. When we get closer I'll be able to say for sure whether it's coming back on that date!
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for the writer ask
💭🚦💛 💌
💭 What inspires you and your writing?
this is a real marketing major-ass answer (from your local marketing major), but i love sharing knowledge and telling stories. writing’s one of those things that’s a bit of a compulsion for me—i’m always writing something. i took a five-year break from fiction writing before i stumbled ass-first into fanfic last year, but even in those years when i was focusing on my career, i was writing guides and trainings and a ton of other stuff—just not anything fun, lol.
writing is also so cathartic. sometimes i set out to tell a specific story, but at other times, a particular emotion gets me in a vice grip and i have to put it to words before it’ll go away. my stories tend to wind up as emotional dumping grounds as a result.
i don’t write things pulled directly from my own life, but there are bits and pieces of myself and things that have happened to me scattered throughout stuff i’ve written, and usually when i’m about 75% of the way through a piece, i’ll realize it’s absolutely related to something i’m currently going through. funny how art works that way, even when you don’t intend for it to.
and occasionally i just have a fire lit under my ass about an issue and i get so hot about it that i gotta compile my thoughts. looking at you, silver snow
🚦 What sort of endings do you prefer to write: ambiguous, bad, happily ever after, etc.?
look, i would love nothing more for them girls (pick whichever girls you please) to have a happy ending where they kiss and are stupid in love for the rest of forever. i love reading those kinds of stories. but in my heart of hearts, i love an ambiguous ending. i like when there are still questions after the story ends. i like thinking about where things could go or how the characters will go on after the events of the story. like, shared space could be read as having a happy ending, but i don’t really think it is. and with the victors; the vestiges, well. you’ll see :0)
come to think of it, i’m not sure i’ve ever written a happily-ever-after, but i don’t think i’ve ever written a 100% bad ending, either. i read too many bury-your-gays stories and watched too many sad european queer coming-of-age films in my youth to ever be happy putting that kinda thing out into the world. i want to write about love with all its ugliness, but not despair or hopelessness. i think what most appeals to me about an ambiguous ending is that lingering feeling of hope. it’s not the same as the kind you get from a happily-ever-after, and something about it speaks to me.
💛 What is the most impactful lesson you’ve learned about writing?
honestly? how to take criticism. i took a creative writing class in high school where we had to read our work out loud and then receive feedback on it from the other writers in the class, and that did a lot for me. going into that class, i’d already been writing for forever and had won some little local writing contests and such, so i was a wee bit of a pretentious douche. but i’d never gotten real critique before beyond, essentially, spelling and grammar checks. it humbled me lol. it made me grow so much as a writer, and i could see where i needed to improve or where my head was wedged way too far up my own ass for others to follow. it also helped me recognize strengths i didn’t know i had, and that was huge. it’s easy to get into a self-doubt spiral when making creative work, and good, constructive criticism can do so much to help avoid that.
to this day i love critique. i like knowing what worked or didn’t work so that i can continue to improve as a writer and do better next time. did my themes land? did something really work, but another part fall flat? i’d love to know!! i try to treat everything i write as practice for the next thing, and frankly that’s helped take some of the pressure off so i don’t go into total Perfectionist Mode.
i know critique is kind of a sensitive topic in fan spaces, but i think that’s because a lot of people have gotten unsolicited criticism that is purely critical and isn’t constructive. but getting good, constructive criticism will do so much to help a person grow as a writer. it’s scary, and sometimes it hurts! writing is very personal for most people, and it stings when things aren’t received the way you think they will be. but i know i’ve grown more from having my failures pointed out (and, very importantly, having the good things about those efforts acknowledged) than anything else.
💌 Is there a favorite trope you like to write?
actually Just answered this in another ask!
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it’s finally getting cold enough that i can bring my cardigan collection back into rotation without feeling like i’m gonna melt into a puddle the second i step outside!!!
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honestly i don’t really think any mental illnesses have been like “destigmatized”- not fully at least. i think the stigma has just changed from demonization to “that’s not a real problem get over it god”
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I love it when i accidentally stay up on the night im supposed to be catching up on sleep it totallly doesnt make me feel horrible all week long
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(Jacobsbadwig) with all due respect, when the fuck did you get back! I missed you!
never left, only reincarnated :)
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WOW i am way overemotional lately
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...... If I went on a hiatus for who knows how long again would y'all hate me....... 👉👈
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How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!
Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post
This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)
The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback
She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"
It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help
Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.
I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.
The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."
And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.
After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.
Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon
She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.
Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible
Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her
Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.
There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.
My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).
No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.
And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...
This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...
I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.
Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.
Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.
I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.
Part 2
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People always talk about how Laios is a character who gives fat vibes even if he isn't technically fat in canon which is very true, and I have some thoughts on that!! (this will be a long post lol sorry)
There's a lot of material in the dunmeshi extras that show how fatness factors into dungeon exploration, which shows that only the most skilled adventurers are able to keep weight on while in the dungeon (thank you to @savaralyn2 for the translations! links to the individual posts these panels come from are added on the pics):
So we know, at the very least, that most of the characters are kept thinner than they would be naturally through the strain of death/revivification in the main dungeon. We also see that Laios has some fat on him, which through the text means that he's skilled enough to at least keep some of his weight (which makes sense, he doesn't die very often in canon).
(to be clear this ^ doesn't constitute as "fat," he is built as fuck here he just has some fat on his body which shows his prowess as a fighter in this universe)
HOWEVER my personal little pet theory/headcanon is that Laios actually has a difficult relationship with food! I know that doesn't make much sense at first since he's shown to eat a lot in canon, but hear me out.
In pre-canon, before he reunited with Falin, he's shown to be extremely gaunt:
But after partnering up with Falin, he gains weight and looks much more healthy very quickly. Part of this is definitely because of his unstable living situation/mental illness, but he and Falin still live in very poor conditions after this and he still manages to gain weight/get healthier, so I believe it's mainly due to her making sure he eats enough.
We also know that Laios is. most certainly autistic. Nobody argue with me on that it's like pretty much widely accepted as canon for a lot of reasons lmao. So my theory is that he's actually food sensitive. He's shown to not really care about food that isn't monster-related. Even when he eats regular food, he's usually imagining it being a monster instead.
He has never eaten squid before, which is totally normal, but could also support my theory in a way :P it being a monster still can't save it from the autistic sensory bad experience in this case, though.
So I think that his adventurous eating during the course of the story isn't because he's actually an adventurous eater normally, it's purely because of his special interest (monsters, duh). During his journey to recover Falin, he's able to build up a healthier relationship with food through Senshi's guidance and the involvement of his special interest.
By the end of the story, after he's retired from dungeon exploration and living in comfort/safety, and with his newly healthy diet, he's finally able to gain a lot more weight. Imo, his is a story of someone who's naturally meant to be fat, but is only able to reach that point when in a stable and healthy environment.
(for the record I know he's not that fat in this post canon comic, but this is only a year and a bit after the end of the story so there's still time lol)
alright I'm goin back to drawing now just had to infodump for a minute ✌️ keep it sleazy
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𝑨𝒕𝒆𝒆𝒛 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒚 𝒆𝒙𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅
Summary: You've had enough of being at this familial social event... here's how the boys would comfort you.
Pairing: Ateez x gn!reader (individually)
Tropes: established relationship au
Genre: fluff, slight angst
Rating: PG
Warnings: emotional exhaustion, mentions of illness, crying
Word Count: 70-80 per member
Note: thank you to @stardragongalaxy @anyamaris and @sanjoongie for looking over this <3 this may be a bit extremely self-indulgent after Thanksgiving
Before You Interact
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂
Quitely checks in on you
When you just nod silently, he goes to get your jackets and announces that you’ll be leaving
During your trip home, he holds your hand
By the time you get home, he knows you need a bit of space and lets you know where he’ll be, but still offers little things incrementally that may help out a bit
𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑯𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒋𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒈
Immediately notices something off with you
He gives you a specific look
You’re off in space somewhere mentally, and he immediately takes you home
He knows you don’t want to be fully alone, so coexist in your living room together while you recuperate from the day (with added reassuring looks and holding your hand)
𝑱𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒖𝒏𝒉𝒐
Doesn’t say a word but starts rubbing your back in comforting motions
Knows it’s time to go when you drop your head against his shoulder
He kisses your hair lightly and lets you know he’s going to collect your things
Doesn’t say a thing but cuddles you as long as you need when you get home
𝑲𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝒀𝒆𝒐𝒔𝒂𝒏𝒈
Doesn’t even tell anyone you’re leaving… he just takes you home
He gives you a concerned look and asks if you need anything
You start snapping at him, and he knows you just need some space for a bit
He quietly does little things to help you out, and when you’re ready, you cuddle up in his lap he doesn’t say anything and just lets you relax
𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑺𝒂𝒏
Quietly finds one of your family members and tells them you’re not feeling well
It’s not a lie it’s not his fault they think you’re physically ill
He makes you some tea when you get home and cuddles up with you on the couch
Immediately reassures you and validates what you’re feeling
𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝑴𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒊
Honestly, he didn’t even process you hit your emotional wall until you dismissed yourself
He seeks you out and asks if you’re okay
When you break down, he holds you for a while you cry it out
As soon as you calm down again, he gets the car for you to sit in and relax while he collects your things
𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈 𝑾𝒐𝒐𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒈
He’s completely unaware of your state because he’s busy talking rather loudly with your cousin
He only realizes when he goes to ask you something, and you’re just not in your seat anymore
He immediately panicked and went searching (he found you on the back porch silently sipping tea)
Made it up to you by cuddling you and let you do whatever you need to recover from the exhausting day with little jokes to try to cheer you up
𝑪𝒉𝒐𝒊 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐
He didn’t even need to do anything he just knew
When you hit your emotional wall, he already has your coat ready, and the car started
He got your favorite blanket and some chill music playing the moment you’re back home
You end up breaking down after everything still, and he just quietly holds you while you do what you need to calm down (which may or may not include a nap or holding you really close overnight)
COPYRIGHT STARLITMARK 2023© ALL RIGHTS RESERVED — reposting/modifying any fic or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations are not permitted.
Networks: @cultofdionysusnet @kwritersworld @k-vanity
Tag List: @jaehunnyy @ericssmile @almondmilkeu @shinestarhwaa @northerngalaxy
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Your Needs, My Needs
I : Strawberry Wine
a masterlist of how you can help gaza
the prelude to this series
pairing: cowboy!joel x f!reader (no outbreak)
description: joel fixes your toilet but you can't help but yearn for more time with him. so you invite him to dinner and try to win his stomach? aka love?
word count: 3.2k words
warnings: there is no smut in this part. still MINORS DNI! no use of y/n! vague talk of reader's old life before texas, no real description of the reader, reader does have anxiety/mental illness that is not fully recognized/diagnosed, mentions of eating food, reader lives alone, reader got MONEYYYY, mentions of joel's ex wife (gasp), alcohol consumption, smoking cigarettes, kissing, flirting. all the fluffy stuff <3
author's note: hey...hey.... how y'all doing?? i'm so so so sorry this has taken so long. my life has been crazy for the last like 4 months and I'm finally getting settled into my life again. I miss y'all and I miss writing, so HERE I AM! I'm hoping everyone who wanted me to tag them months ago is still cool with me tagging them 4 months later lol. okay, lemme know what you think xoxo
Joel comes and goes for days. The first day he returns, he inspects your toilet again and tells you he has the wrong tools. You discuss a game plan and by his initial projections, your toilet should be fixed the next day. But when he fails to come by in the morning, you decide to call the phone number on the post-it note he left for you the day before.
The phone rings and you get an answering machine of a younger girl telling you to leave her and Dad a message after the beep. When the line lets out a long ding, you breathe out the random croak in your throat.
“Uh, hey, Joel, it’s me. Just seeing if you’re stopping by today. If not, that’s fine, I’ll be home all day today and tomorrow. Okay, uh, bye.”
Hours go by and you find yourself pacing, regretting your decision to leave him a message. What if he gets it and thinks that you’re crazy?
Ever since you had made his acquaintance, you felt completely reliant on interacting with him. It may be due to the fact that you haven’t socialized with anyone else in months. You were very good at isolating yourself, but lately, it’s been eating you alive being so alone. Now that you had this big house, the silence felt almost too quiet. Joel’s southern drawl and straightforward responses gave a bit of light back to your life.
Around dinner time, your landline rings. You practically fall over your couch racing to pick it up, hoping it was him.
“Howdy neighbor,” He grunts through the phone, “Sorry I didn’t come by today, hope ya didn’t miss me too much.”
You let out a dry laugh, trying not to sound too giddy about him following up with you. You were borderline pathetic.
“No, I just wanted to make sure you were still alive,” You manage to get out, “You are still alive right?”
“Still kickin’, just busy as all get out. ‘M fixin’ to head to your place now if you’re not busy.”
You look down at your pajamas and start to nod. It’s not like he can see you through the phone, but you are reacting to his words like he’s right in front of you.
“Sure thing, I’ll leave the door unlocked.”
-
“So… It’s really just you here? All by your lonesome?”
He’s messing with his toolbox, searching for the one tool he needs to fix the toilet. You stir your fresh brewed tea, ensuring none of the sugar clumps up at the bottom of the mug. You had offered him some, but he politely declined, telling you that he had a big dinner.
You take a sip, testing the sweetness. “Just me. How about you? Just you and your daughter, right?”
He laughs heartedly, turning towards you from where he’s squatted. You look at him with curious eyes, unsure if you asked the wrong question. He stands up, a wrench in his hand, a smile still spread across his face.
“Her mama left town with her new boyfriend about 5 years ago. Wanted the city life, not the life I gave her. It’s been just me and her ever since.”
So he’s single. You think to yourself.
You realize the laugh was probably because of how absurd and new it must be for someone to ask him about his life. He grew up here and you are positive everyone here already knew all about his business. You are a breath of fresh air for him.
Before the silence becomes awkward, you speak up. “City life ain’t worth a shit.”
“Yeah, she’s different. Won’t speak ill of her ‘cause that’s my bosses’ mama. She sees her now and again. They are just very different.”
The conversation comes easy with Joel. While the first couple of interactions you two shared were a bit strained, after days of small talk, you realize he’s the truest Southern gentleman you’ve ever interacted with. Polite with a little bite. He never speaks ill of others, except his brother. He loves to pick on Tommy. He seems like an attentive father. He loves to pick at you, always pointing out your Northern tendencies. Your horrible driving. Your accent and your speech patterns. But he’s also very complimentary. A couple of days ago, he remarked how nice your perfume was when you were standing close to him. It made your heart skip a beat.
And on top of all of those things, he’s very easy on the eyes.
“That’s mighty fine of you not speaking ill of your ex,” You try to drag out the silly Southern saying, which causes him to chuckle again. You smack your lips before continuing, “Wish I could do the same.”
You are not sure what he’s doing to the tank of your toilet, but you watch him strain to get a piece out of the corner with the wrench he has. He clenches his teeth, turning the piece to the left to loosen it.
“Exes are exes for a reason,” He grunts, fiddling with some more things in the tank, “I ain’t too hung up on datin’ right now. I got my girl and my horses.”
“And now you got me, your annoying neighbor who almost crashes into your horses and asks you to fix toilets.”
He breathes out loudly, “Yeah, ‘nother pain in my ass. Just what a man needs.”
-
The toilet is fixed too quickly. You had busied yourself with other small cleaning tasks that when Joel finds you in the kitchen doing dishes, he startles you. It took him about 15 minutes to finish the job and you had thought you could at least finish up the dishes you made from dinner.
“‘M all finished up. Gotta get back home to do some rounds at the stables,” He says as he waltzes over to your paper towel holder. He grabs a sheet and begins to wipe his damp hands, “Anythin’ else for me today?”
You turn off the running water, going down a list of fixes you could ask him to do. You decide it’s probably best to just ask him to swing by another day to help you with other things.
“No, thank you though, Joel. I am sure I’ll be by to ask for more help,” You chuckle, shaking your hands dry, “I owe you dinner or something.”
As you say it, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs. He’s staring at you and there’s a glint in his eyes. You are not that good at reading people, mostly because you are deathly afraid of being wrong. His eyebrows raise as he leans against the counter near you. He’s so close and in your space, but you try to push the thought of him coming onto you out of your mind.
“What’do you got on the menu tomorrow?”
His voice is kind of husky which makes your brain draw a blank. You wipe your hands on your pants before crossing the kitchen to check your fridge. You glance through your ingredients, settling for the only dinner item you can conjure up that his southern palette may like.
“Baked chicken and vegetables?”
He nods, tossing his paper towel into the bin beside you. “Yeah, I've been needing a home-cooked meal. Think I could come over at like 5? Tomorrow?”
You recollect a time when a guy showed interest in wanting to hang out with you outside of work. It had been years and he was not nearly as attractive as the man in front of you.
You nod slowly, trying not to look too robotic due to your nerves. “Sure thing, cowboy.”
-
You did not know what to wear. You contemplated going into town to see what the local boutiques had but you ran the risk of Joel seeing you out. You didn’t even know if this was a date.
You settle on a sundress you have owned since high school. It’s the perfect length and while your mind goes to wanting to impress Joel, you also need to be comfortable.
You cleaned your house, adding some new decorations to your living room walls. You even clean your sheets and make sure your bedroom is vacuumed.
When the time comes for Joel to arrive, you pace the kitchen anticipating the doorbell. You already had all the food prepped and ready to put in the oven. The vegetables have been cut and seasoned. Everything was just the way you needed it to be.
Joel gets there 5 after your scheduled time. When you welcome him at the door, his hair is styled and you can tell he put on his “fancy jeans”.
What you didn’t expect was the bouquet of flowers he had in his hands.
“Afternoon, neighbor,” He begins before extending the floral arrangement towards you, “My girl said I had to bring you something nice. Somethin’ bout being a gentleman.”
You smile widely, giving flowers all your attention. Even with the fragrant bouquet, you get a whiff of his sandalwood cologne.
“Nice to see you cleaned up for me, cowboy. Come on in, dinner is about to get put in the oven.”
-
You catch him scanning you up and down when you place the spread of chicken and vegetables on the table. He was in the midst of talking about his daughter and her band fundraiser, but he completely halted when you took notice of his staring.
You settle into the dining room chair across from him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t.
“She needs more sponsors?” You break the silence, wanting to move away from the sudden awkwardness.
He swallows, reaching for the serving fork, “Oh, yeah. She needs to reach a certain goal to go on her senior band trip.”
You try to avoid his wandering gaze again, focusing on organizing your plate of vegetables. “Where are they going?”
“Disney. She ain’t never been out of Texas, so she really wants to go.”
You remember all the trips your family said they’d go on to Disney, but they never did. Your father could not stand being around his own children, let alone other people’s children. You think about how he used to complain about your constant questions, all the times he completely ignored you for your brother. You start to spiral, the anxiety creeping up in the back of your throat. You push your chair out from under the table, excusing yourself for a moment. You go to the bar you have set up in the living room and grab the only sweet wine you have. Strawberry. You grab two glasses from the top of the setup and walk back to Joel.
“Forgot wine,” you mumble, setting a glass in front of him, “You want some?”
He is already picking at his chicken, “Yeah, I’ll take some.”
You are quiet as you uncork it expertly, pouring it into each of the glasses. Joel watches you like a hawk. You can tell he’s trying to read your expression, so you try your best to remain neutral even though your hands are shaking.
You place the bottle in the middle of the table, making sure it’s easily reachable.
You finally sit back down, sipping the red liquid. The strawberry flavor isn’t very strong, it’s more like a hint of the berry. You had gotten the bottle from a roadside stand in Kentucky. An older lady who must have owned a vineyard nearby was selling them for $5 each. You told yourself you would only use it for a special occasion. This event seemed fitting.
Wine always makes you flushed, but you are always a bit flushed around Joel. Even more so when he’s watching you so intently.
After a couple of sips, you finally rest your shoulders and begin to eat your dinner.
“I could sponsor her,” you finally say, returning to the previous conversation. For some reason, you felt obligated. Joel quickly retaliates, shaking his head as he chewed on your roasted veggies.
“You ain’t gotta do that, doll.”
The nickname rings in your ears. You take another sip of wine. You can tell Joel notices your reaction because he smirks with his mouth full.
“But I want to, Joel. I’m sure she has worked hard her high school career, she deserves to have fun.”
He hums, but still shakes his head negatively, “I can’t let you just pay for-”
“You can and you will,” You enjoy another bite, smirking at your defiance towards him. He looks perplexed. “So when is this fundraiser? Is there like a dinner or something?”
He finally caves, “This Friday at the school. It’s a dinner and auction. I guess if the kids don’t find their sponsors, some local businesses are willing to sponsor them.”
“Are you going?”
“Yeah,” He cuts up his chicken, “I guess you’re gonna come along, too, if you’re givin’ my girl all that money.”
“Does a check work?”
He sits back in his chair, already finishing off his wine, “You seriously don’t have to-”
“What are neighbors for, Joel?”
He nods, “You mean friends.”
You furrow your brows, trying to let your hazy mind find a time when you called him your friend. This was a new development.
“Friends, huh?”
He pours more in his glass, “Well, I’d like to think so.”
The wine is hitting your system and you realize your arms feel lighter. You grab the stem of your glass and tip it up to down the rest of the alcohol. Joel’s eyes are trained on you, waiting for a snarky response.
“Do friends stare at other friends like that?” You pour more wine for yourself. You realize he’s done eating so before he can respond to your flirtation, you speak up again, “You done with that?”
He looks down at his empty plate, “Yes, ma’am.”
“Yes friends look at other friends like that, or you’re done eating.”
He grins, “‘m done eating, doll.”
-
You two find your way out to the rocking chairs. They were left there by the previous owners and you could tell they were probably as old as you.
You had another full glass of wine, sipping it as Joel lit up a cigarette. He admitted it was only a bad habit when he was drinking, which was rare. “Sarah gets onto me when I have even one beer. So this has gotta be between us two.”
You swirl the crystal, watching him carefully take a drag of the stick. “Your secret is safe with me, cowboy.”
He giggles as he lets out a huff of smoke. “I haven’t had secrets in a long time. Guess I’m lucky it’s with the town stranger.”
The statement hits you in the very pit of your settling tummy. You furrow your eyebrows, leaning forward towards him. Your chairs are not that far away from one another, so this is probably the closest you have ever been to him except for that one moment in the kitchen.
“Luckiest man in Texas that’s for sure,” You muster, averting your eyes. You could not stare into his beautiful brown eyes for too long. “Having the privilege of getting me out of my head. No man has done that in years.”
“What? You not good at letting loose?”
You shake your head, knowing that he did not understand what you meant. You take a moment to inhale, finally glancing up at him again. “I think I may just be cursed.”
“Now, why do you say that?”
You contemplate spilling the beans. Letting your heart fall onto your sleeve after years of shielding it from anyone who looks your way. Your lips part, but no words come out. It’s just the sounds of the cicadas.
“As soon as something is good, it gets bad somehow. I don’t even get a moment to savor it.”
You feel the statement down to your bones. The last time you felt settled in your own life, the rug got pulled out from under you. You cannot remember a time when you truly felt present in a special moment. You always felt like you were floating outside of your body, watching things happen and never really truly feeling anything.
You don’t expect him to lean closer to you, “Whatever happened before you got here, you ain’t gotta worry about it anymore. You obviously put distance between you and what happened for a reason. Let this little side of the world be your home now.”
You push your spiraling thoughts away, letting him be right.
“I’m workin’ on getting settled. It’s easy when you have a handsome cowboy to help along the way.”
It comes out like word vomit. Between the wine and the nerves coursing through your entire being, you can’t help but admit your little crush on the man. You slap your free hand over your forehead, admitting defeat before he can even respond. You knew he would take the comment and run with it.
“You always flirt with your friends, sweetheart?” He was toying with you, which was a good sign. If he wasn’t interested, he wouldn’t call you such a thing.
You smile, releasing your face from your hand. His eyes are tracing every curve of your face, a subtle pass that you did not capture quickly enough.
“Only ones that fix my toilets.”
And then, he kisses you. It happens so quickly, that you don’t fully grasp that it’s happening until you're molding your lips into his. Once your buzzed brain picks up the fact that the man you have been crushing on is kissing you, he pulls away. Your eyes are still closed, your hands still gripping onto your wine glass.
He huffs loudly and stands up quickly. Once you place your eyes on him, he’s pacing around the back deck stairs, not too far from where you’re sitting. You instantly bite back the urge to ask him what’s wrong, because there’s always something wrong.
“‘M sorry, sweetheart. I should’na done that.”
He instantly regretted it. The thought made your throat tighten. He continues to walk back and forth, causing a draft.
“It’s fine, Joel. I’m n-not mad.”
He shakes his head, halting his robot-like movements. He finally looks at your pitiful expression and lets out a long sigh. “I don’t think I’m much of a gentleman, kissing you on the first date.”
You watch as he places his hands on his hips, contemplating his whole life right before your eyes. You realize he is too traditional to see that nowadays, people are sleeping together on the first date. First base is nothing. You rest your glass on a decrepit table next to you and stand up.
You slowly approach him, trying to catch a glance from him, but he continues to avert his eyes. You grow bold enough to tilt his chin towards you, letting your guard down for a moment.
“You’re such a gentleman, it hurts,” you whisper, slowly letting a smirk grow across your face. The comment makes his shoulders lower, finally relaxing from such a heated moment.
“Just don’t wanna mess this up with ya,” He murmurs, only letting you and the nearby fireflies hear you, “I enjoy spending time with you.”
You slowly lower your hand to your side, trying to act casually about the confession. But the truth is you want to run and wake up every cow and horse within a 10-mile radius with a squeal of delight.
“I like spending time with you, too, Joel.”
He takes your hand as you say it, bringing your knuckles up to his lips. His breath is hot on the back of your hand before he says, “Well now, I quite like the sound of that."
taglist (some of y'all can't be tagged, I tried lol)
@midnightdragonzero @casssiopeia @anoverwhelmingdin @notsosecretspy @raindrcpsangel @art-estrange @misstokyo7love @lizzie-cakes @d1lf-loverrr @ashleyfilm
@blckbrrybasket @cande-beggins @gloryekaterina @lilyevanstan1325 @frogtape @jamesdeerest @mellymbee @arrowsandanchor @polishedtaylor @harrieandharassed @ranahx @youwouldntdownloadapizza @jmillersgirl @wintersquirrel @stefanibear003 @joliettes @startsm00n @abbsfrommars @76bookworm76 @youotterbekiddingme @jodiswiftle
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beware of fang
Hey, im gonna say it outright and state that this is a call out. people get called out for being dangerous. fangs nearly pushed 3 people to commit suicide(including myself) and i had to be hospitalized because of him, so this feels justified. Im sorry if you disagree, ill keep it short and to the point
If you’ve been a long time follower of his im sure you’ve seen his vague posts about his ex friends, the cotl tumblr community and “fandom drama” with little to no context behind it, other than various people appearing on his DNI. his vague nature in the posts is intentional, he doesn't want to let on that he was abusing his friends.
Ive tried time and time again to write something but it never seemed right, like what he’s done to me and my friends wasn’t severe enough to warrant something like this, but it is and i don't want to let this go any longer, esp not when he has my friends, their names, usernames and literal contact information in his DNI list
Over the last year ive been friends with fang hes been horrible. Hes never changed and refuses to acknowledge what hes done to his friends and how horribly he has hurt them, to keep this short im keeping this bullet pointy
Here is his carrd, he has everything neatly outlined for yall to block on every platform
Dont harass, dont contact.
all of this is public information so
https://web.archive.org/web/20240713073710/https://fanged-info.carrd.co/#boundaries
https://fanged-info.carrd.co/
Twit: FFANGEDD / narilamb_ / mewhenimsilly
Insta: ffangedd / narilamb
Tumblr: ffangedd / fanged-cotl / fanged-xeno
Cara: narilamb
Blusky: fanged / narilamb
Itaku: fanged
Artfight: FANGED
Toyhouse: FFANGEDD
Sheezy: fanged
Discord & telegram: narilamb
All the people mentioned have given consent
Cw !!! abuse, suicide, self harm
https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG
The drive is a bit out of date, as I logged it all before april. Hes posted more awful shit and vented to me again since then
Feel free to request the letter i wrote to him, i might share it anyway because it sums up my thoughts on the matter
If you want any additional context feel free to ask
Fang uses suicide and self harm threats to control and manipulate his friends, hes begged me for assisted suicide and when i refused to help him commit he begged in groupchats. He begged on instagram stories as well as twitter, so much so that his twitter for suspended for 12 hours.
He has admitted to wanting someone to commit suicide with him and has previously formed suicide pacts and nearly followed through on one with a friend. fang backed out first.
he continues to redirect blame. refusing to take accountability for his actions. He still blames his previous medications, his ex psychiatrist, his self diagnosed BPD & OCD, psychosis, and states of beings from disorders he doesn't have (claiming to be manic or sociopathic whilst not having bipolar1 or ASPD)
fang blames his (ex)friends, claiming they were projecting their mental illness onto him when they were just reacting to his abuse, that they the ones in the wrong and that how they treated him/cut him off was vile and unfair, and believes that he never got real closure when he did. it just wasn't what he wanted to hear and now feels entitled to an apology from these people when all he’s ever done is traumatize and terrorize them.
He describes the amount in which he has cut over pavi, wart and kat because what they put him through and how they traumatized him. The traumatizing actions were: Kat asking for a content warning, pavi didn't want to walk on eggshells anymore and blocked him without an explanation & wart blocked him after being emotionally abused for months
Hes described how he would carve their names into his thigh and told me that he will carve my name into his skin when i leave too.
He demanded wart and surf choose their “real friends” and cut off their community for him because fang hated that they were being “two-faced” and hanging out with “people who hate him”
He would spend hours venting relentlessly and graphically in his friends DMs, demanding their time and attention and expecting immediate replies. His friends are not professionals and shouldnt be expected to be an on-call DIY therapist for him, for hours, without consent.
Fang has said he is completely unwilling to self censor for other peoples safety
fang has vented to a 13 year old (they were not hiding their age)
He referred to me (and our friends) as a phone person, a voice, icons. Concepts he can talk. Completely dehumanizing everyone that cared about him even to their faces.
He blames his ex friends for his poor mental health and has said he wishes they watched him commit suicide, he wanted his friends to be traumatized from this (as if they werent already.)
When a friend posted a screenshot of a gamenight to tumblr he had a breakdown so severe and so dangerous for so long that several of his friends has to mute the DM to keep themselves safe from his verbal abuse and suicide/SH threats
He doesn't care about how triggering any of this can be for someone and will subject anyone (including people in danger) to his “venting”
He didnt care about triggering me and contacted me at the worst of my suicidality in january and exasperated the danger i was in so severely I had to be hospitalized against my will before I could commit suicide.
Im honestly not entirely sure what to even think. he knew the severity of my suicidality. he knew I had been hospitalized for an attempt in 2022, and still he chose me, probably the most vulnerable of his friends at the time to vent that heavily too back in janurary
Hes a dangerous selfish person whos proven over and over that hes not getting better and isnt willing to change, i honestly had hope when he slowed down his graphic vent posts and victim blaming on twitter and insta but he decided to say fuck all and get right back into his shit train of shame and misery.
Heres a link to all of the screenshot, damning ones are in important bitz if you’re not interested in going through them all
https://drive.google.com/drive/u/2/folders/1MLMOT-qvgrX-9NnUEgpl4AkEPfixy2wG
in these screens alone he:
admits to sending his cuts to his friends, threatens to cut if i leave, admits that he was going to go through with a duel suicide and begged me for assisted suicide
warts screenshots v
full screenshots & complete context in the drive
as for him claims that i was stalking him: i was scared, i was his friend. i tried so hard to be good enough and never was. the screens were a by product of confiding in my friends about what was happening and the drive was made to share w/ them
i admit i prolly shouldve combed out some of it but, ykno
also big phat apology for tagging cotl!!!!! only did bc fang has, please stay safe everyone, and thank you so much if you have read everything
(the doc encase anyone was wanting it ! figured i;d just use tumblr regular posting method)
https://docs.google.com/document/d/17QjXUEdQVd8c4GZS--vPo-xR3kgmoLl4ZmN3ROMutg0/edit?usp=sharing
edit as of 8:30pm 7/17/24
here is a link to pavi's response
warts response
and kats response
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Kyojuro x wife Reader where the reader is pregnant but the hormones are getting to her, she needs relief and kyojuro is happy to help her out?
Keeping Control
Kyojuro Rengoku X Pregnant Wife! Reader
18+ Content MDNI🚫
CW: Pregnancy, Pregnancy sex, NSFW Content, Comforting Fluff.
This was my first request and I do apologize for the wait and appreciate any inspiration given! Ill be posting request in the order they are received!! Thank you!
Y/N Perspective
I never saw myself as a control freak or someone overly concerned about my health, so I assumed that starting a family would be one of the most joyous and straightforward experiences of my life.
Prior to becoming pregnant, I really looked into extensive research on cravings, contractions, and the most effective home remedies for a smooth birthing experience. I genuinely believed I had everything under control; there was no doubt in my mind that I wouldn't be fully prepared for this baby.
However, that changed once I actually became pregnant. Despite my thorough preparation, there was one thing I hadn't accounted for: the unpredictable nature of hormones.
As a woman, I've definitely dealt with my fair share of hormonal ups and downs, but let me tell you, nothing quite prepares you for the rapid change of pregnancy.
Now at around six months along, I find myself facing all kinds of challenges, not just physically, but mentally as well. One moment, I'm overwhelmed with sadness and emotion, and the next, I'm bursting with joy and excitement. It's really a whirlwind of emotions at the moment.
But you know what's been amazing? Kyojuro. He has been an unwavering source of support throughout this entire journey. He's been by my side, anticipating my needs and ensuring I'm comfortable at all times. Even when he's not around, he entrusts Senjuro with the task until his return.
Usually, I'm all about being independent and tough, but let me tell you, pregnancy has a way of humbling you. I mean, just one wrong look from Kyojuro and I'm on the verge of tears.
Truth be told, it was Kyo who first brought up starting a family. He's been pretty upfront about it since the early days of our relationship. Actually, he's even mentioned wanting multiple children, which is something I'm still wrapping my head around as I navigate this first pregnancy.
But, I love him, and seeing him happy means the world to me. So, even if it means dealing with all these crazy emotions for nine months, I'm all in.
As I've been navigating my feelings and attempting to rein in my emotional outbursts, I've noticed a new sensation, one that caught me off guard.
I've always loved Kyojuro and been drawn to him, hence wanting to have his children, but recently, it's been different. I find myself incredibly attracted to him. Whenever he's near or touches me, I feel an overwhelming sense of arousal.
When he's away, I find my heart and body aching more than usual, caught in a constant need for him. I thought I was hiding it well until recently...
"Is something bothering you, little flame?" Kyojuro asks, his hands busy with the dishes from our dinner.
"No, I'm quite alright," I reassure him with a smile.
It's been almost a week since Kyojuro returned from a high-profile mission, and I've needed him terribly.
He turns off the water and dries his hands before walking over to me.
Leaning in, he places his forehead against mine.
"You're warm, and your face is quite red. Did you catch a cold while I was away?" he asks, his concern evident.
I shake my head no, grateful that he's mistaken my longing for him as something else.
Though I've discussed these feelings with Shinobu and understand they're natural, I still feel a feeling of embarrassment bringing it up to Kyojuro.
He pulls away, placing his hand lovingly on my cheek.
"I need you to be honest with me, my love. I'm worried about you. You've seemed reserved since I returned home. Did I do something wrong?"
The look in his eyes breaks my heart—it's the exact opposite. The only reason I've kept my distance is because I'm afraid my sudden neediness and desires will freak him out.
I gently take his hand off my face and hold it in mine.
"No, Kyo, you've been nothing but perfect. I've just been struggling lately..."
"Struggling with what, my love? Whatever it is, I'll fix it for you. You don't have to worry about a thing!" he says in his usual, loud, happy tone.
I could feel my face growing even redder at his words. I knew he didn’t understand. I knew his intentions were pure, and yet they made me feel so aroused.
I drop his hand and quickly stand up, needing a moment to collect myself.
Maybe I just needed a second to gather my thoughts, and then I'll be fine.
"Y/N, where are you going?" he calls out to me as I start to walk away.
"I just need some fresh air. I'll be right back," I begin, but I'm cut off by two strong hands firmly holding onto my hips, keeping me in place.
Kyojuro slowly turns me to face him, his expression now more serious.
"Stop avoiding me, little flame. What's gotten into you?" His tone now stern.
Had he done this at any other time, I would have started sobbing uncontrollably, thinking he's angry with me. But right now...
Right now, the way he's looking at me has me feeling desperate.
I squeeze my thighs together tightly, attempting to avoid his intense gaze. If I don't break away soon, I know I'll cave and lose control.
He gently grabs my chin, forcing me to meet his eyes. A wide grin spreads across his face.
"It seems like my sweet wife has been hiding something from me. Am I correct?" he says, referencing my trembling legs.
"I don't know what you're talking about," I reply unconvincingly.
He then pulls my face closer, pressing his lips firmly against mine.
In that moment, I feel like my heart is going to burst. I crave more. I need him.
I accidentally let out a small moan against his lips.
He pulls back, a smirk playing on his lips as his hands trail down my sides, circling around my pregnant stomach.
"I didn't realize my poor wife had been feeling so unsatisfied. Please, allow me to assist you with your troubles."
He then scooped me up off my feet, carrying us back to our room at the back of the estate. Being carried like this by him only intensifies my attraction to him.
Feeling his muscles flex as he carries me and the gentle way he lays me on the back of our shared futon
I watch as Kyojuro sits on his knees beside me, his eyes scanning me hungrily.
He's the one who makes the first move, kissing me gently and slipping his tongue into my mouth.
His hands explore my body, eventually making their way under my clothes.
Kyojuro is normally so gentle and loving when we make love.
However, I've noticed a difference in his approach tonight, a subtle change in his demeanor.
"Little flame, you're driving me insane," he mutters into my ear, his lips trailing kisses down my neck.
A shiver runs through me.
"Kyo, I've been trying to tell you, but..."
"Tell me what, my love? Why you've been avoiding me? Or why you’ve been suppressing your desire for me?”
The way he’s talking is so unlike him. And yet, it makes me feel hot all over.
"Kyo, I..."
"Yes, Y/N, tell me."
"I want you."
"Hmm? That's not the answer I'm looking for. Tell me what you really want."
"I want you inside of me," I admit, my voice quiet.
He smiles before moving on top of me, his body hovering over mine.
"See? Was that so hard?" he whispers in my ear before gently biting it softly.
"Please, Kyo, I want you so badly. I can't take it anymore," I beg, grinding against him slightly.
"You've been such a good girl, my flame. Now, be patient, okay?"
I nod, watching him intently.
He gently parts my clothes, revealing my naked pregnant body.
"You're so beautiful, my love."
He leans in, planting small kisses all over my swollen breasts, causing me to squirm underneath him.
"Don't worry, I won't tease you too much."
He moves further down my body, his mouth lingering at my hips.
I'm not sure how much more of this I can take. I'm already soaked and desperate for him.
"Please, Kyo," I beg again, my breathing shallow.
He grins before parting my legs and running his fingers through my folds.
"You're so wet. Is this all for me?"
"All for you," I breathe out.
"I seem to have kept you waiting my love, I think it's time to reward you."
"Kyo," I call out to him, unsure if this is all real.
I reach out for him, and he leans into my hand.
"What is it, little flame?"
"I love you, Kyo," I say softly, my voice cracking.
He looks at me, his eyes softening.
"I love you too, Y/N. More than anything."
He then leans forward, and with his eyes locked on mine, he licks my slit.
I let out an unintentionally loud moan, my body shuddering.
"You taste so good.” he praises before continuing.
"Kyojuro please. Don't stop," I plead.
He's devouring me like I'm his favorite meal, his tongue running through my folds before settling on my swollen clit.
He sucks on it, his lips gently grazing the sensitive bud, sending the much needed waves of pleasure through my body.
"You're so amazing, I can't get enough of you," he says before going back to work.
His relentless pace, the way he's moaning as he eats me out, the way he's looking up at me, watching me, is all too much.
"Kyo, I'm going to cum. Please, don't stop."
He wraps his arms around my legs, gripping my ass and pushing my hips down, preventing me from escaping his hold.
"Come for me, Y/N," he commands, his tongue circling my clit.
My mind goes blank, my whole body tensing.
I bite my lip til I can’t hold back anymore.
The sensation is overwhelming, and my orgasm rocks through my body, causing me to convulse.
Kyojuro's arms tighten around me, holding me in place as he continues to eat me out, prolonging the feeling.
"Kyojuro, I can’t." I whine.
"Shh, you're okay. You did so well. Let's try for another, shall we?"
I barely have time to react before he's back at it, sucking and licking my sensitive clit.
"You’re doing so good for me my love."
His words of praise are all it takes for another wave of pleasure to roll over me.
"It's too much!" I cry out, unable to hold back.
He finally pulls away, a smirk on his face.
"You did so good my dear. You took that so well."
He then leans back and starts to undress, his eyes never leaving mine.
"God, I've missed you," he says as he undoes his belt, removing his pants, revealing his hard cock.
He takes it in his hand, pumping himself slowly.
"Look at what you've done, little flame. Do you see how good you make me feel?"
"Kyojuro, I've missed you so much."
"I'm all yours, my flame. Just say the word."
"Please, Kyo. Please, fuck me."
He leans in, kissing me passionately before lining his cock up with my entrance.
"Are you ready?"
"Yes, I can't wait any longer."
"Don't worry, I'll take care of you."
He slides his cock inside of me, letting out a deep groan as he does.
"You're so tight, Y/N."
Once he's fully inside of me, he pauses, giving me a moment to adjust to his size.
"You feel so good."
"So do you." I breath out.
He begins thrusting, slow and deep.
"Fuck, I've missed this so much. You feel so good."
I felt myself clench around him at his words. Kyojuro doesn’t usually curse but when he does it’s so hot.
He's breathing heavily, his muscles flexing with each thrust.
"You're doing so well, Y/N. You’re already getting me so close.”
He groans, his cock twitching inside of me.
"You're so good, Y/N. You're driving me crazy."
"Please, Kyo. Please."
"You're such a good girl, begging for me."
He pounds into me, his hips slamming against mine.
"I'm gonna cum, my love."
"Do it, Kyo, please."
He grunts, his cock pulsing inside of me, his seed filling me up.
He collapses on the futon next to me, both of us breathless.
"How are you feeling, little flame? I wasn’t too rough with you, was I?" He places a hand on top of my stomach, rubbing it gently.
"I feel so much better now, Kyo. Thank you." I plant a small kiss on his cheek as he pulls me closer, holding me tight.
"You know you don’t have to hide your feelings from me, sunflower. I'll always be here to love and support you, no matter what you need. You're carrying my child, let me ease your body whenever you wish."
I feel him running his fingers through my hair, planting small kisses on my forehead.
Now that I've finally let out all those pent-up emotions, I feel utterly exhausted. All I want to do is lay here in his arms until the baby arrives.
Then, I'm sure I'll be more than ready to give him another one.
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