#to victimize themselves... hm

[disruptivevoib]

Long Ramble about CCCC and my overall feelings on what the album means and such

Something I find important about CCCC is like.

The fact that all three of them are, in some way, trying.

Heart is emotion, he is prone to himself and being reactionary, in the moment. Prone to the past of learned behavior and trauma. Reactive and rapidly changing. He isn't going to make pure sense because he isn't based in logic or in societal ideals or views. He is an instinctual response to the environment and circumstances. His manipulation is not intentional. He has very little control of himself in the end. Its why Mind talks about claiming to relish entropy yet clearly needing help. But, Heart in earnest wants them to be okay and safe. He believes that Mind's control will drain the life from them. It will make things monotonous and the same. Too much order.

Mind in turn, believes Heart is manipulative with intention. He wants to control Soul or wants to just drag them all down with him into this depressive state. Mind is logic, he is the reasoning out of your emotional instinct. Your inner critique, and when unchecked, that inner critique goes from a guiding hand for your emotion to one that debates and bullies it. Invalidating its responses. Ultimately, though. Mind just believes he is helping. He is doing what must be done and telling the "hard truths" to Heart. And that Heart is being the petty child. Which- I mean. Sort of sure. But Mind is definitely fucking petty and childish. He's stubborn! Prideful! So ofc he is. Admitting you're wrong? No.. why would he EVER do that.. nuh uh.

Which is what makes Light so crucial. Mind asking Heart for help- but also. There is Soul.

Who while ambiguous in purpose, is mostly that background voice. Your inner narration. If Mind is Logic and Reason then Heart is Emotion and Instinct,, Soul is all that lives between it. And he is constantly silenced or spoken over or around. He does not get a word in edgewise until TSE. He may show up in the background occasionally but as much as Heart and Mind claim to want to keep him alive and help him, they also fail to actually acknowledge what he says.

Which is that they both are right and wrong. That this fighting is doing directly what they both feared it would. Soul is desperate by the end. He is angry and resentful because.. well. Self hatred due to intense self awareness and reflection is rather ig. Common. Im not a professional here but from personal experience, you get so tired of rehashing the same shit with yourself over and over. It all feels pointless.

The only out, by the end of it all to Soul is that if they cannot be Whole, whats the point? He is desperate. He does not want to die but he feels theres no other solution.

And. About Whole, Soul throughout the album seems to want that. At the beginning, to be Whole or Harmonious is to be mentally healthy, maybe even "normal" by society's standards. To be able to put a mask over your problems and be, again, "normal". It takes the entire album for Soul to realize that this:

1. isnt possible

And

2. There isn't anything evil or wrong with him for that.

Mental health is a struggle. But you are not evil and should not be othered because you struggle. You also do not need to be fixed for being a little different and people's opinion of you is not what matters most so long as you are happy (and not hurting others. Lol).

Thats what Two Wuv is entirely about as a song. Its a "fuck you. Fuck this! I thought I needed to be this! But I DON'T. Stop telling me who I am! How to be! I'm gonna be me!"

His entire arc is parallel to Heart and Mind's and is crucial in the culmination of becoming yourself again and accepting yourself.

But, as mental health will always be, this period of respite and self acceptance is not always forever. And as life continues or as you lapse back into a depressive episode.. you cannot help but forget what it is like when you're not this way- and hell! Vice versa too! Some people have this disconnect between the periods. Where the things from the depressive state seem dramatic or obtuse to you while you are doing better. And from the other end, you just want to be happy again.. but you get so lost in it all you can struggle to feel like you've ever been happy.

The album is about the human experience. It is about self-sabotage, mental illness, self-hatred and reflection and it is, maybe more importantly about self-acceptance and healing. Having a bit of mercy on yourself. Accepting that you are imperfect and that this is okay. And whatever flaws you may have that need to be mended or worked on, can be. And that who you are, for example, if you are queer, is okay. And no one has the right to take that identity from you! That the internalized ideas of how someone should be are not always correct or right. Not for you, at least. Stuff like that.

[watermelinoe]

i think it's kind of offensive to try to make holocaust denial about trans people but idk

[laurelnose]

i love “cannibalism as ultimate manifestation of desire & intimacy” as a theme and have been very much enjoying tumblr’s meme fascination with it but i also just realized every time i’ve written cannibalism it’s been about corruption, spiritual violation, moral injury, the crossing of lines which cannot be uncrossed, that sort of thing, desire doesn’t really enter into it at all

also multiple times the consumption has been noncon/forced specifically by a third party rather than by survival/starvation circumstances which. no further comment

[starlooove]

That’s what irks me Abt fics where tim is like “ur my Robin!” Or Bruce Is like “idc what u did just come home” or Jason’s like “I’ll stop killing bc joker is dead now” like besides not being real it boils down their choices to misunderstandings And mistakes and nobody ever CHOSE to harm anybody else or be mean! It just happened by mistake and can be reversed just as easily! I’m better than dc lol ao3 rules canon drools!

[toothfa-1-ry]

GOODNIGHT SUNSHINE -finnick odair

It's the coldest it has ever been in the 13th district but Finnick's got you right?

GENRE: fluff

PAIRING: Finnick Odair x gn reader

WARNING: mentions of wound and scars

A/N: this fic is especially dedicated for those who were victims of my previous Finnick fic

TAGLIST: @honethatty12

"Finnick?" You ask at the dead of night, the both of you lying down next to eachother all cramped up in the tiny bed which was given to the both of you

"yes sweetheart?" Finnick's breath tickles your ears as he whispers, slightly bending his neck to where you were lying down in his chest

You could hear his heartbeat clearly a d he could feel you breathing, a sign that the both of you were alive.

Your fingers could feel the bandage wrapped around his arms and Finnick could see the scars on your face, a sign that the both of you were a little scarred, but still a sign that the both of you were alive.

The 13th district is cold. A different kind of cold the both of you hd ever experienced. Finnick had mainly experienced the cold during the night on the beach, the cold air blowing towards him from the sea.

Finnick also had experienced many different kind of warmths, the bad and the good

The kind of warmth you can only get back at the 4th district, the warm sand beneath is feet and the sunlight hitting the water.

The warmth from the capitol in all its luxury and velvety blankets and linen bedsheets which left him cold and empty instead

And the kind of warmth with you. A different kind of warmth, like now,

How the both of you were in a cold small quiet room with a thin blanket too small to cover 2 people and yet Finnick felt the most comfortable and warm he ever was,all because he had you in his arms

Even though there was a entire uprising going on, even though there was wounds and scars all over his back, even the nightmares he endures everynight seemed to cease to exist when he was with you

"Finnick" you repeat again

"yes sweetheart?" He responds nonchalantly, his arms pulling you in closer towards him

"aren't you feeling cold?" You ask, the thin blanket was hardly even able to cover you, let alone Finnick "we can't share it, it's far too small. We can take turns using it"

"it's alright sweetheart" Finnick mumbles and his face nuzzles into you neck "m'not cold"

You scoff "it's freezing, here" you try spreading the blanket across Finnick's body but Finnick just doesn't accept it

"you use it love, don't worry about me, I've got my sun right next to me. I'm warm enough" he lazily smiles "c'mon these scars aren't going to heal themselves, let's give into the night"

"scars don't heal Finnick, wounds do, not scars" you roll your eyes as you reply but your arms stretch over Finnick's neck

"I suppose so, but you can always kiss them better hm?" He hums

"I suppose I can always kiss them better" you smile as you press a kiss into his face

"night Finnick"

"goodnight sunshine"

[save-the-villainous-cat]

hurt//comfort with hero or villain tending to the other person’s wounds please….. tyty..

"I..." The villain felt their hands shake. How on earth were they supposed to handle this? Them being here in the hero's house was already too much contact, too much of a mistake. The villain was a mess, that much they could admit.

But was it because they had failed to do their job? Or because the damage they had caused was (inexplicably) too much for them to fall asleep to at night peacefully?

"Hm," the hero said. They closed their eyes. Jogging pants and a simple shirt had exchanged the fancy clothes from yesterday's evening and they sat on their couch, messy hair falling into their eyes. "Here to finish the job?"

The villain didn't find the right words. To be more precise, they didn't find any words at all.

In the back of their mind, the villain laughed at themselves for missing, but another part of them cursed themselves for picking up the gun in the first place.

It had been a simple order. To kill a target.

Killing people for money was merely work for the villain, nothing more. They had never had any ill feelings towards their victims, had never questioned what they were doing. It was as simple as it could get: a simple request, a simple answer, a simple amount of money. But when it had been clear to them that it was the hero, the person who got in their way regularly, they had felt worse than ever.

Although yesterday was already somewhat of a blur, they could remember the horrible feeling in their gut when they had seen the hero at the party through the spotting scope.

Their enemy was highly skilled and the villain had felt like a coward. Like someone who stabbed them from behind. The hero deserved a good and fair fight, not this.

Once the hero had been alone on the balcony, looking over all the other buildings, the villain had made up their mind. Their enemy had looked calm. Peaceful even. They had placed the glass of alcohol on a table nearby. They had leaned against the metallic bannister of the balcony and had stared into the villain's direction, almost as if they could sense them.

They could remember the way the hero's hair had moved in the wind. How tired they had looked, how the fresh air had cooled down the blush on their face.

So, for better or for worse, the villain had taken in a deep breath, aimed at their target and…missed the hero's head.

They had shot their shoulder instead. Had watched the hero's surprise, the quiet gasp, had watched as they had fallen to their knees, had looked around. Confused. Panicked. Desperate.

And the villain had stayed there on the rooftop, hadn't dared to move.

The hero had stood up, gone inside as quickly as possible, had grabbed their jacket and excused themselves. They had left the party without anyone noticing they had been injured and no one - the villain assumed - had gone after them to check if everything was alright.

The villain supposed the hero was good when it came to lying, when it came to excuses.

Now, the villain stared at them. Why were they here? Why hadn't they done their job?

It had been a clear shot. One entry wound, one exit wound. Not deadly. But very, very nasty. Why had they missed on purpose?

"You're bleeding," the villain said quietly. The hero's eyes followed the villain's gaze and together, they stared at the hero's shirt which slowly started to get drenched in blood.

The hero sighed.

"Shit. That's my third shirt this morning. Do you know how difficult it is to get blood stains out of clothes?"

"I...I am aware, yes." The villain didn't know what to do with their hands, they didn't know where to move, what to say. They had never been this stunned, this incompetent. But the hero acted instead of them. They headed for the bathroom and the villain followed like a dog without any hesitation.

"Thank you for missing, by the way," the hero said. They took off their shirt while they were walking and the villain did not miss how much they struggled with their injured shoulder. The villain wanted to touch them, wanted to help but in the last second, they withdrew their hand and the hero didn't even notice the villain's intentions.

"I'm a lousy shot," the villain said.

"Everyone knows that's bullshit." The hero came to a stop in the bathroom and the villain nearly bumped into them when they set a foot in the room.

The room looked like a scene from a horror movie. Blood was everywhere, bandages were everywhere. Pills were scattered on the ground, bloody clothes were hanging over the sink, the toilet, the bathtub.

"Excuse the mess, will you?" The hero crouched to pick up the green first aid kit.

And the villain didn't know their body was capable of those feelings. With their heartbeat in their throat and their heart sending waves of pain into their chest, the villain feared for a moment that they had gotten horribly sick in the last few hours. Judging by the dark circles under the hero's eyes, they had spent most of the remaining night here in the bathroom, trying to fix two wounds. One of which they could barely reach.

"Sit down." The villain managed to keep their voice steady. They swallowed, tasted bile. They were...angry?

"Just give me sec-" Not at the hero, though.

"No. Sit down. Right here, right now," the villain ordered. They put their hand on the hero's healthy shoulder and pushed them down until there was no protest. Once that was done, the villain kneeled behind them, put a flat hand on the hero's naked back and observed the doings of their bullet.

The wound on the hero's back was barely treated - it had been bleeding long before the villain had noticed the bleeding on the other side. Dark reds, fleshy pinks and sickly blues mixed together and created a gruesome painting the villain had seen too many times before but could barely handle now.

"You need to see a doctor," the villain decided.

"Pff, I'm fi-" The villain put minimal pressure on the red and purple bruises around the wound and the hero gasped hard enough for the villain to fear they would throw up any second.

"I can't tell how much your shoulder blade is damaged. If the bone splintered..."

"I'm fine," the hero said.

"I can stitch the wounds but that's all, you need to see a doctor nonetheless."

"I have never needed a doctor."

"I am not asking nicely," the villain said and this time, their voice cracked. The hero turned their head to look at them but the villain's attention was on the wound.

Or maybe they were too afraid to look at them.

"Honestly, I am not a resentful person, but let's not forget who did this in the first place."

The villain leaned back a little, the words stuck in the back of their throat.

"I'm..." They couldn't, they simply couldn't say it. They started to whisper. "It's just a job."

"Just a job," the hero sneered. They grabbed a clean cloth and pressed it into the open wound they could reach. Without another word, they grabbed the needle, cleaned it and gave it to the villain, along with some thread. "...like I said. I'm not resentful."

The villain got to work and pierced into the hero's skin. They could hear the hisses, the weak laughs to overshadow the pain. It wasn't pretty - soon enough the hero’s blood was running down the villain's fingertips but they did (somehow) manage to fabricate some decent stitches.

"...you don't have to say it. I forgive you either way," the hero said through gritted teeth. "And it doesn't matter anyway. You're...you are here now."

Once the villain was done, the hero turned around and the villain, for the love of them, couldn't look the hero in the eyes.

"But it was an order, wasn't it? You didn't just decide to shoot me."

The villain cleaned the needle and started again. This time, however, they could see the hero's grimaces, not only the pain in spasming muscles but also the pain in their eyes, the exhaustion between their words. And that made it more difficult.

The villain wanted to touch them, to comfort them. But they couldn’t, just like they couldn’t apologise to them.

There was something wrong with them, something broken within them. What kind of person couldn’t whisper a simple apology?

"Yes, it was," the villain said. Their hands were still shaking a bit.

"I was pretty drunk when it happened," the hero admitted. "And my adrenaline was kicking in immediately. At first, I barely noticed. Once I was home, I was crying instead of screaming. Didn't wanna wake up the neighbors. I honestly thought this was it."

The villain didn't answer. Their heart was heavy enough and even though the hero didn't consider themselves resentful, forgiveness was still arduous to ask for and even harder to deserve.

"Please," the villain said. "Please, just hate me. It would make this a lot easier for me."

"I'm not here to make it easier for you," the hero said and with that, the villain finished the stitches and felt even worse than before. They supposed they deserved it, but whatever peace of mind they had longed for, the hero didn't give it to them.

Instead, they gave the villain undeserved compassion, horrible understanding and infuriating kindness. It was enough torture for the villain already.

[writing-rat]

Ghostface’s Victim

Pairing: Sam Carpenter x Reader

Content Warning; 18+ content, G!P Sam, Sam has a penis, Sam is Ghostface, Roleplay, Knife play, Bit of blood, consensual non consent

Summary: Sam decided that you should be her victim…

Inspired by: @xiihyunn

It was an exceptionally hot day for your apartment block. The AC was broken and nothing could be done by it so you was just wearing shorts and a tank top. You had no need to go out after all so you had put on no underwear, you saw no need for it considering you wasn’t going to be going out and also you would be more dressed up. It was also a bit of a funny time and you didn’t really want to go out due to a murderer being out there, calling themselves Ghostface. You knew what they did and why they were at the Big Apple. You was currently busying yourself by watching TV due to it being 8pm at night, and it being dark outside.

That meant you was unaware of your door being picklocked, and the opening of the door and gentle close. The entrance connected to the living room so the intruder could quickly see you, lounging lazily as you was watching your film. Your nipples were erect, causing the intruder to stalk over with an erection that wasn’t hidden under the cloak. Soon your arm was stabbed, missing the vital places and only causing a superficial cut against the arm. You let out a small scream before a gloved hand covered your mouth, your other arm being superficially cut at the same time. The masked person tilted their head, one hand pinning you down, the knife being held dangerously above you. Shaking, you glanced down and saw her cock. That’s when the knife was put down beside your head, the hand taking the mask off suddenly. There Sam stood, your girlfriend.

You widened your eyes. “Sam?” you whimpered out and was trying to crawl back. “Baby. What are you doing?” You asked, not moving anymore as you felt the knife dig into your arms again.

“Claiming and protecting what is mine,” Sam growled out before she was kissing you deeply. Weakly, you kissed back to keep your life safe. You didn’t know what the taller girl would do if not. Soon, she pressed herself against you, a gasp slipping out of your own mouth as you felt her dick against your thigh. “This is how you make me feel. This is why I need you, to protect you, to claim you as mine,” she growled out. You nodded, lust and desire clouding your mind. Soon she ripped off your tank top, which luckily was your plain one. You would’ve been mad if it had a pattern. She used the knife to trace over where she ripped, using the tip as she licked her lips. “So fucking hot under me, you love this hm?” Sam asked, her hand that was pinning your arms down going to your crotch and feeling your wetness as your shorts had a wet patch now. You regretted not wearing underwear at this point but it was already too late.

That’s when she used the knife and ripped your shorts like that. You gasped, feeling yourself get wetter at that. You was humiliated that it turned you on a lot. You didn’t want that but it had happened, all you could do was hope that Sam hadn’t seen it. Unfortunately for you, she had as she smirked, the Ghostface robe still on her. That’s when she sat on top of you, proceeding to take her black jeans off as well as her black boxers. You watched as you knew what would happen next. She would penetrate you. You blushed as she pinned you down again, knife against your arm again before she started to slowly enter inside. You let out a gasp as you couldn’t help it. She then grasped at your nipples with the hand that had the knife in it, except it was on the floor now. It was just laid down like that. You blinked in shock before glancing up at the older Carpenter, pleasure and lust running through your body srill.

“Not even halfway in and your practically begging to be pounded into,” Sam grunted out, feeling how wet you was as well as tight. You was clenching just right against her as she was entering slowly, before she rammed the last half inside without any care in the world. A loud moan slipped out your mouth as she rammed into you, Sam grunted but she smirked at your reaction as she was not going to be gentle. You saw that glint in your eyes that you recognised. “The other thing I’m killing tonight is this pussy, ok baby?” Sam teased, pushing her body weight onto yours, gasping into your ear as she was thrursting already. Nodding, you allowed her as moans slipped out your mouth, you assumed you would be saved if she fucked you hard enough. She kept going rough and fast inside, grunting as she did so. “Such a good slut,” she praised as she kept fucking you.

You could feel yourself already getting close due to the pace. Clenching tighter, you were prepared to let it happen until Sam stopped and pulled out. “You aren’t cumming until I allow you to,” she growled out.

“Please Sam,” you whimpered out. After a minute she entered you again and started to thrust again.

“Not my name,” Sam grunted out as she was thrusting hard and rough, her hand groping at your chest roughtly. You wasn’t pinned down anymore so she grasped at your neck, choking you.

“Please, need to cum Sa-Ghostface,” you rasped out, opening your legs wider. You noticed the puddle underneath you which made you blush. You didn’t know you could get that wet even.

“Should I keep edging you?” Sam asked go no one in particular. You whined out a no as you was gripping onto the floor tightly, pleasure overriding your senses. You soon felt the hand leave your neck, sure there was a bruise there. Just as you was about to ask, you gasped st the cold metal that touched your chest, near where Sam’s hand was. You arched your back as you was loving how you was treated.

“Won’t say you’re Ghostface. Would let you strap me down anywhere, please, let me cum. Need to. Sensitive,” you moaned out, tears rolling down your face. Sam just smirked.

“I was going to let you cum anyways but I might just do that now,” she grunted, doing one last thrust before she came inside you. Feeling her cum inside you caused you to also orgasm. You was grasping into Sam’s shoulder, knife never leaving your chest. You did feel a cut start to appear but you didn’t care as you was on cloud 9. You was holding onto her tightly, when Sam asked something.

“How was that?” Sam asked.

“Amazing,” you responded immediately. “I think I like pretending to be Ghostface’s victim,” you mumbled out, throwing the knife to the side before you grabbed the robe and kissed her gently. Sam held your face as you was kissing her gently. “Also Greg was speaking bad about Tara. Want him to be the next actual victim? Not to your dick hopefully as that’s mine,” you mumbled out against her lips, slowly rubbing her dick again. Sam smirked and nodded.

“No one else will ever see it or be used by my dick, I will not allow it,” she spoke and kissed your cheek. You smirked, still stroking her, Sam moaning. “Second round?” she asked.

“Second round,” you confirmed, slowly sliding down to suck her dick.

[gothicayomi]

Edit: I made a post about Alex’s reponse: Here

Okay. The Alex callout is so fucking wishy washy that I’m genuinely getting whiplash. When I first read Ven’s callout document several days ago, I honestly skimmed it because I’m the type of person who has always just assumed callouts are fully honest. And siding with the victims immediately is always a must, especially if it’s about grooming minors, or severe abuse. At that time I was also under the impression DB was a minor, thus I automatically denounced Alex Kister. However, last night I wanted to see any updates regarding this development and I’m so glad I saw Ven’s tumblr post before he updated it, because it provided vital information (such as reminding everyone DB is an adult during all this) and I was able to see people’s responses to it. I decided to reread the document with this new, updated information in mind and I’m very upset with how badly this has gotten. Particularly about how feeble Ven’s doc is and how some of the things they said rubbed me the wrong way. For now, I’m just pointing out some things that really stood out to me with how much it didn’t make sense or it was particularly antagonizing toward Alex.

So… in the tumblr post Ven made, they were saying that the point of the doc wasn’t to say Alex was a groomer. And yet they made it VERY CLEAR that Alex’s gender identity was, in their opinion, a way for Alex to “lure victims”. Basically calling a transfem a predator cuz she expressed her gender identity AND sexuality relative to her gender identity to her partner and not minors. but Ven was also backing up from that claim, which clearly was the whole point of the doc???? But it was never stated in the introduction of the document. So first of all, I thought that was weird. It just said “Alex’s predatory and manipulative behavior.” Here we go.

So. Apparently a content creator wanting to make friends and connect with people is parasocial? Sure, content creators have to be aware of their “high status” or whatever, but i think people are also weird for idol worshipping in the first place. Alex (which I’ve seen stated uses any pronouns) has been self aware about parasocial relationships from the beginning and he’s not saying he never was aware of it. 😐 but several screenshots of him explaining himself tells that he never even thought about the potential power imbalance— he wanted some fucking friends.

These screenshots would show someone expressing their discomfort and assert their boundaries. And Alex always seemed very genuine in their apologies and would acknowledge the person’s feelings wholeheartedly. None of it was brushed off by her in the screenshots. She never downplayed anything. And yet you guys are still offended???????????????? Let me get this straight. You want someone to own up to their mistakes and apologize for making you feel weird, but when they do, you’re somehow still upset? Hm. Make it make sense. Like what the fuck you want, blood from a rock??????

By the way, what’s transphobic to one trans person might not be transphobic for someone else. As a gender-fluid person, I’m not going to be pissed off if a different gender fluid person “”“changes their gender every day”,””” (i say this particular thing because I’ve seen people act very upset over it while others aren’t) because it’s not my fucking business and it doesn’t affect me or my daily life. If they’re comfortable and happy, that’s all that matters. I have no say in what other trans people makes them comfortable with themselves. What’s transphobic is invalidating another trans person’s gender identity, expression, and sexuality, (which CAN co exist by the fucking way) and demonizing it just because you don’t like that person or you don’t want to try and understand them. Just so you know. :) that’s like misgendering someone on purpose just because they’re a terrible person, or saying neopronouns are invalid.

Here’s the thing: when you’re exploring gender identity, you’re not going to get it on the first fucking try. From what I’m seeing in the docs, this was Alex around the time they were first stepping into that comfort zone. They were trying new things. Wanting to feel comfortable. Wanting to be validated. Wanting to connect with other trans people. That’s what every trans person wants. You seriously shamed her for that? To the point where Alex admitted they felt so ashamed of their gender expression that they lied about saying it was joke? All to reassure everyone and make people feel better? Fuck you. You don’t fucking get to say what someone should and shouldn’t do regarding their body and gender— he wasn’t saying explicit things to the minors. Not stuff similar to what was said to Ven or D8 so why the fuck is anyone tripping??????

I will say that I understand why Ven would be concerned about this in the first place since when they dating Alex, Alex did make sexual comments about wanting to wear their clothes and look like them. I get it. But Ven, you were his partner, obviously when you guys were comfortably having intimate discussions that he’d be willing to share vulnerable desires with you regarding gender identity woven with sexuality. But why did you automatically, outside of your personal conversations with him, try so desperately to search for that in his convos with other people? When they had nothing to do with you I understand wanting to be concerned and looking out for other people but this was so blown out of proportion that it’s insane.

Alex trusted you so much. And one thing I was really disgusted by was the creepy ass way of you posting screenshots of his sexual fantasies. If Alex does decide to post YOURS you sent to HIM, you have no fucking right to be upset over it, okay? :) fair’s fair, my dude.

So this screenshot being posted after Ven writing in the document “venting to a minor about his sexual frustration” all I have to say is Ven what the fuck are you talking about? being touch-starved isn’t Inherently sexual. Why the fuck is Ven saying this is sexual frustration. ?????????????????????????????????????????? So it’s sexual when it’s said to a minor? Oh okay, good thinking, Ven. /sarcasm. I didn’t know cuddles and hugs were bad. I guess grown adults shouldn’t cuddle their children, or adults can’t hug their child family members. Idk what to say about the “I wish you lived closer thing” tbh because i don’t know what the person said— it could have been taken out of context. Which brings me to my next point.

Ven stated there were people who came forward with their own screenshots of what Alex said. But if someone is going to crop them into tiny little boxes and obscure what the victim said before and after, it’s going to be pretty fucking difficult to even make a proper judgment on whether or not the context is inappropriate, or if it was said to the actual victim themselves in the first fucking place. Sure, the screenshots aren’t fabricated, but we don’t know who the fuck they were sent to. That’s on y’all.

Btw I’m so fucking convinced none of these ppl have ever experienced normal, healthy friendships or relationships, oh my fucking god. No fucking basis for proper judgment, imo.

One thing that also pissed me off was Ven targeting Alex’s mental health and symptoms throughout the doc. They targeted Alex’s paranoia and suicidal tendencies. First off, I’m pretty sure everyone part of tmc + the fandom know that the most prominent themes of tmc are SUICIDE and religious trauma. I once saw Alex post a tweet about various poetry written during his high school years venting his depression and suicidal ideation. I wouldn’t be surprised if he had been struggling with depression and suicidal ideation way before that. I’m gonna be so honest, after seeing the way Ven twisted a lot of this around, when I look back on Ven saying “Alex said he’d kill himself if I broke up with him” makes me think Alex could have said something like “you mean a lot to me and I’d be devastated if we split.” like. I can’t be the only fucking person who thinks this. Alex has always been self aware. I know he’s really struggling right now.

LMFAOOOOOOOOOOO BITCH YOU ARE SO STUPID!!!!!!!!!!!!! You either genuinely don’t know what paranoia is (symptom of mental illness) or you, of course, are genuinely trying to demonize an aspect of someone’s symptoms they can’t control. All to justify your bullying against Alex. Maybe research what paranoia is, and you’d be more understanding of Alex.

Mental illness doesn’t fit into your neat little boxes, by the way. And everybody experiences mental illness differently, so don’t act like you 100% know what someone is going through. I understand wanting to see the people you care about getting therapy and professional support. But you don’t have the right to demonize them when they aren’t being outright shitty.

Not to mention, every single fucking time Alex would explain their feelings and perspectives, Ven, you would shut them down in the doc. Invalidating Alex’s feelings. That’s the sort of thing manipulative people do, just so you know, Ven!! The same type of person you claim Alex is!!! Don’t throw stones in glass houses. That’s coward behavior, and projection is damaging to both parties.

Im gojng to be so deadass right now. If I could nitpick every single little detail in Ven’s document that I found weirdly uncomfortable or suspicious or confusing, I’d be making my own goddamn google doc which would be two or three times as long as Ven’s.

This entire matter genuinely could have been dealt with privately. Alex even expressed that and Ven shut him down!!! Do you know how fucking frustrating that is? And no, Alex never shut you guys down so don’t even try and twist the blame back onto him. You wanted him to own up to what he’s done and said, but y’all don’t want to do the same. Sigh!

Also, what the fuck is the takeaway supposed to be? Y’all said he isn’t a groomer. Ven said somewhere in the doc that people aren’t trying to be transmisogynistic. But clearly you are fucking using Alex’s gender identity against her. I hope you burn in hell. Also, since none of the minors were being groomed, what the fuck are you trying to prove?????????? That wanting friends is fucked up and evil???? That you and D8, grown ass adults who were consensually engaging in sexual conversations with Alex, were fucking manipulated? Evidence shows you guys were comfortable with expressing your discomfort and asserting boundaries, but like I said, y’all are still pissed off Alex took accountability. You’re adults. Act like it.

I could go on and on about this shit but these are the key points I wanted to bring up. I saw the post that donut made and I read through it thoroughly but since there is no evidence suggesting Alex was grooming minors, and he was genuinely apologizing for making Donut and other people uncomfortable, it honestly came off as a kid (kids shouldn’t even be in online without a fucking parent’s supervision anyway) being a kid: immature. So I genuinely do not give a fuck. Have your parents watch what people say to you online.

I’m a 23 year old adult who’s been in both toxic and healthy friendships and relationships with people and I can honestly say y’all are fucking stupid for even writing these dumbass callouts. I’m looking forward to Alex’s response and I will be supporting him unless there is substantial evidence showing Alex is a bad person. Ok?

Feelings and perspectives are valid and important on both ends. You don’t need me to tell you that. The point of this post is that the doc was very feeble and lacked proper documentation at numerous points. you shouldn’t purposely misconstrue Alex’s words and actions just to make him look bad, especially if your evidence (screenshots, in this case) isn’t consistent or fully exposed. I will mention what I said earlier: plenty of people here, from what I saw, were able to express their feelings and assert boundaries just fine and Alex was completely open, and whoever needed that help definitely got it. Despite everything that has happened, I’m glad people did have others who understood what they felt.

I may be editing this post if I find I think certain things need to be (re)addressed or corrected. Because like I said, there are various things I want to point out. Stay updated or not!

[heartfullofleeches]

monster reader just being super excited to see their mate(aka real cult owner), since they're so similar to themselves

every similarity is so nice, and the differences.....hey, can i touch your horns? ohhh, that's how they feel like

meanwhile their mate is just melting inside in a pile of goo due to how adorable reader is, and how much they want go cradle their face and pepper it in kisses

or some sort of interaction like that, if may i ask

Walking alongside your so called mate, you watch closely as they heal the remaining cultist injured during their reawakening. You place a wild flower or rock by their bedside as added apology, but you can't help but wonder away from your assigned task whenever your spouse opens their mouth.

Between their black teeth and beneath their serpent tongue, another thinner pair of fangs glowed deep red as the smog they blew entered their victims wounds. When you checked your own set there was no hidden teeth to be found, much to your disappointment.

There were a fair amount of differences you had noticed, most obvious as apposed to the one you just discovered. You were roughly two feet taller than the tallest cultist whereas your mate barely fit into any given room. They had two sets of horns whereas you didn't have a single nub. It was hard to deny that you were the same breed, but why did you look so much different than them?

Giving the last cultist their get well present, you stand on your toes as you return to their side. The deity becomes aware of your odd behavior when you bump into them from the imbalance, swooping you off your feet before you can right yourself with their best rendition of a laugh.

"Precious one, mind telling me what you are up to?"

"Nothing, it's just- I never thought I'd met someone like you and you're still so different compared to me. There's so many things I want to do and ask."

"Well, both my mind and body are temples you may explore however you please, my love." The deity steps over to a nearby tree and props against it. "Do as you wish."

"Hm.... To start off." You grab the pair of horns closer to the top of their head. Appearance wise they're slick black and without a blemish, but touch wise they feel no different than the tree bark behind you. "These are huge. Wonder why you have them and I don't."

Cracks form in your mate's otherwise tough persona as you grip their horns. "Going straight into the sensitive areas, are you? I'm unsure why you don't have them myself. Maybe you are a crossbreed with a mortal or just the runt of your litter. Either way, you are perfect for me."

"Maybe...." Your focus on their horns dwells as they smile, recollection of their second pair of teeth coming to mind as you ghost your claws over their lips. "Wish I could heal people like you do too.."

The deity kisses the pads of your fingers, relishing in the feeling of your skin across their scarred lips. Could you get any cuter?

"You have your own way of doing that, love. Maybe another reason for your stunted growth is that you haven't eaten enough humans."

"You do that?"

"Only the ones who test my patience, which is the majority of them."

"I think we'll need to talk more about that later."

"Moving on. Are you able to do this?" The deity cradles you to their chest, making sure your ear is to their throat as a soft rumble starts in their chest. You pull away with an expression that makes them fall in love for the second time in all their life.

"You purr?!"

[klausysworld]

Hi, your writing about how a yandere reader kidnapped Klaus is quiet interesting and this gave me an idea: how about a scenario where a yandere reader kidnapped a yandere Klaus? Like where reader faked Klaus to believe she was innocent and sweet but in fact she was just obsessive and possessive as he was, so she kidnapped him to protect him from being hurt by his enemies? Thanks a lot.

(Readers gonna be a witch cuz I doubt a human could kidnap him by themselves)

Power Play

He started it.

He was the one who started following me, not the other way around. He wanted to know more about me, know where I live and how involved I was with the ‘save Elena gang’. He wanted to stand outside my house and watch me like he didn’t know I left my curtains open on purpose.

It was all him.

It isn’t my fault that his obsession brought on mine.

He was just so possessive and jealous and damaged and desperate for love, I couldn’t just ignore him.

I wanted him so I took him. Just more gradually than maybe I would like.

I had to entice him first. Once I realised he had chosen me, I needed to find out why.

I didn’t really get in the way of his plans and kept relatively quiet whenever the others were planning anything and to Klaus that mean that I was innocent in the situation and didn’t like to hurt people. Partly true but it was more that I couldn’t be bothered.

But I was happy to play the innocent victim if that’s what he wanted.

All I had to do was have him find me crying over a boy and he was all over me, telling me I was too good for a common fool and that ‘a little witch like me’ should be with someone much more powerful to keep me safe.

The feel of his arms around me was perfect and I knew I would need it more. I could hear his breath hitch as I hugged him back tightly, his hand ran through my hair making us both sigh before inevitably having to pull away.

He kissed my forehead and I kissed his cheek before we both parted, each of us with a smile on our faces for very similar reasons.

That night when he stood outside my house I decided to give him more of a show, leaving the curtains open after my shower and sitting by my window as I rubbed cream onto my bare legs.

It was so easy to wind him up, showing him any amount of my skin had him immediately as close as he was allowed without it being suspicious.

Walking around in my mini skirt and tight cropped top always had him approaching me, his arm fining its way around my waist as he pulled me to him

“You look gorgeous today sweetheart” he would compliment while staring any others who looked my way down.

“Oh, thank you, I liked the colours” i mumbled while smiling up at him making his lips upturn and him to nod

“So do I”

Though I knew his attention was truly more focused on my legs and cleavage, not that I minded.

Occasionally he would request a spell or two from me but I pretended I wasn’t very good at all. Which earned me lessons from him

“A pretty little witch like you should know how to defend herself, how about we start with something simple hm?” He placed a candle in-front of me and although I could easily light a thousand of them alight, I made a struggle out off it and made myself appear frustrated and upset so he would bring comfort and words of encouragement.

Once I had it lit he was over the moon, spinning me in his arms and kissing the corner of my mouth before bringing a beginners spell book over and allowing me to choose one to try next.

I knew if I got too good or confident then he would feel threatened, he didn’t like powerful things, he liked people to be weaker and sweeter than him.

So I was just that. Even took to baking to make appear as though I had some basic human hobbies, I would bring him biscuits and cakes when we had my lessons and each time he tried a new one he threw a fuss over it.

When he started gifting me little flowy dresses I knew he thought me to be an angel. Diamond necklaces and pearl earrings always being presented to me wrapped in pink ribbons. White was his favourite colour on me

“The colour of innocence and purity my love, it’s perfect for your beauty”

“There must be something I can buy you?” I offered with a smile but he shook his head

“Your baked treats are all I need” he murmured

“Surely you desire something else? Anything?” I questioned and he shifted in his seat, clearly thinking something a little more than a normal gift. “How about my blood?” I tilted my head and his eyes widened

“Love-“

“No I insist, you can drink from me, I don’t mind” I gave him my wrist and watched the hesitation on his face. “Please? It’s my thank you to you…for being so generous and caring for me” I whispered and his eyes softened

“Alright…you tell me if you feel dizzy or if it hurts okay?” He checked and I nodded.

The second his teeth were in me I knew he was hooked, the moan that left him said enough as the veins danced beneath his eyes and he swallowed my blood down like an addict.

It drove his obsession through the roof and he found himself needing it more and more. As soon as I was offering he was latched onto my arm just like I had expected.

It was all too easy to have him feel like he saved me. Just had to put myself in a couple risky positions for him to swoop in and suddenly he never wanted to leave my side.

Only downside was it was hard to have any time when he wasn’t watching me to plan my attack on him.

So I had to move slow, unbearably slow. But eventually I had it set up. Turns out the Lockwoods have more than one underground cellars and they’re hidden all around.

I chose one furthest out in the woods and told him I had planned something special for us. Of course he probably expected a date of sorts, most likely didn’t think I would be kidnapping him.

I felt a little bad when I stabbed him in the back with a high concentration of wolfsbane and vervain but at the same time it was for the best. The group were planning to kill him and for once their planned actually sounded promising and I didn’t like that. It was more risky to let them go through with it than for me hide him. Besides it’s only temporary…

Lets say he wasn’t too pleased to wake up in chains, apparently it wasn’t one of his kinks,yet.

But really I think he was more upset that I wasn’t the sweet little flower that he thought I was.

His first question was who enchanted the chains but he knew. He just didn’t want it to be true.

“Sweetheart I don’t understand…if you had all this…power why hide it from me? Why do this now?” He gestured to the cage he trapped in.

“The Salvatores have another plan. But this one was a little too promising and I couldn’t risk them getting you.” I told him with a weak smile, still keeping my distance so he couldn’t get too mad

“So you have me here…so they don’t kill me?” He trailed a little confused and I nodded

“Yes and because…I love you and you aren’t very good at keeping yourself safe” I mumbled and he blinked right back at me. I could feel my face getting a little hotter and I glanced to the exit

“Y/n…I love you too, let me out and we can talk about this a little more…well humanly” he muttered with a small and somewhat nervous chuckle.

I sighed as I looked him over, I knew he was trying his best to keep his anger in check and I was beginning to feel a little bad but I was in the right. And it’s not like he wasn’t going to do the same thing to me, I watched him too difference was that he didn’t know it.

“I will…soon just after everything has cooled down okay? Everything’s gonna be just fine. You don’t have to worry, you can drink from me or blood bags, you have a mattress and pillow, blankets. What else do you need? I got the fairy lights so it’s not dark. Books, I even got you some canvases and artsy stuff. This place is temporary, just relax for a moment and I’m gonna be back really soon okay?” I had gotten closer to him as I spoke and my hand cupped his face gently.

“You’re leaving? Love, you can’t leave me down here!?” He grabbed my wrist firmly but not painfully however he was still incredibly weak so I easily got out of his grip.

“I have to make sure everyone believes you’ve left” I whispered while leaning forward and kissing his cheek. “I can’t have anyone looking for you”

“Y/n, don’t leave me” he murmured, his forehead pressed to mine making me sigh softly

“It’s not for long klaus, I promise”

“If you love me…you wont do this to me” he mumbled and I hummed

“You act as though you don’t have a room ready in your basement ready for me”

He pulled his head back and frowned at me “how on earth do you know that?”

“Do you think I don’t see you outside my window?” I whispered and his eye’s darkened

“You watch me too?”

“Mhm except I actually go inside, I don’t just wait in the garden”

He stared at me for a moment before a small smirk pulled at the corner of his lips “you truly are something else aren’t you sweetheart?” He muttered, the backs of his fingers brushed over my cheek. “What is it you want me to do love?”

“Just stay here until it’s safe…maybe we’ll go somewhere else after, somewhere real far away so it’s just us”

“Okay…how about we start looking, after you go secure your plan?” He kissed my neck softly and smiled down at me

“We can take Elena, for your hybrids if you really want” I whispered hoping if he was just lying to trap me back, I could sway his decisions.

“Nonsense, my hybrids don’t like me anyway, I’d rather just have you my love”

I just hoped it was true, not that it mattered, if he didn’t then I’d just have to get better security measures.

[cherri-ying]

Sing for me, little Nightingale (Yan! Scaramouche x Reader)

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56024689

Felines are deserving of their accolades. Merit embodies their nimble spines and ductile limbs; bodies like pliable sand, threading their way through knots, twists, cavities and labyrinths. The prince of the hunt flexes and swipes his talons and his victims are swift to falter, their necks wringed and their spines contorted in ways that are unnatural to their physicality.

“I’ve got you now.”

At times, though, even a cat doesn't remain undefeated.

“How stupid are you to think that a cheap disguise would work against me?” He almost sounds amused, his words an arctic hiss against your ear. Reaching up, Scaramouche claws at the thick cloak that veils your face and tears it to your shoulders. Your hair is quick to mime the departed elements, hanging in disarray across your face. A mantilla of unkempt tresses, veiling whatever thoughts sketch your visage.

The Balladeer regards the sight of your person with a sort of contemptuous delight. Forcefully knelt at his feet with your wrists bound behind you and your head drooped in defeat—or in pensiveness. It's a shame Zapolyarny is so devoid of windows. What light finds it's way into these all-too familiar stone chambers is too sparse to see what expression you're making.

“Well? Say something. Or have I rendered you incapable of speech?”

Tentatively—begrudgingly—you tip your head back, back, back until your irises lock with the hypnotic indigo tinctures belonging to the puppet who leers dauntingly above you. Locks of such a hue that only you could wear part like the red sea, revealing a thin, perhaps solemn, ambiguous smile—the last expression the harbinger could anticipate. Or desire.

“Thwarted again, hm?” You chuckle and it sounds like frost, “and I even took extensive measures to conceal my tracks. No good?”

“Failures are bound to repeat themselves.” Scaramouche doesn't nuisance himself with that syrupy facade he wears to rope his targets right between his molars. Malice is a noisome stench in the air as he adds, “This is the seventh time I’ve had to retrieve you. I'd figure you’d have learned your lesson by now, but time after time you insist on making yourself a burden to fetch.”

“There's no harm in trying, is there?” You maintain that strange curve on your plush lips. It’s difficult to tell what you're thinking, or feeling.

“‘No harm’, yet you delude yourself into believing that a time would come when you could successfully evade me. I wonder how long it’ll take until those dreams of yours crumble and die.”

“You know, there’s a word for what you are,” you state after a thoughtful pause. “I think it’s called: overbearing.”

What a strange person, with a strange smile. Normally, Scaramouche would meet such defiance by smiting his poor victim to dust within the blink of an eye. In your displays of resolve, though, the invincible harbinger finds himself crouching to your level, trailing a slender hand against your windpipe. How easily he could squeeze the life from your throat until you begs for reprieve; choke you of your indignation. Instead, he allows it to linger there without purpose, applying no pressure, grasping nothing.

“And there’s a word for what you are.” He nearly whispers. Difficult. Stubborn. Irrevocably his. “Irrational, when I only want what’s best for you. And what’s best for you, is to offer me your complete submission.”

“Even though I’d sooner offer my life than yield to you?” A new tone makes itself heard in your cadence. Such words, such simple, few words, reveal what lingers beneath your otherwise indifferent facade.

Sagacious. Provocative. Challenging.

Of course, you're testing the boundaries of Scaramouche's resolve, as he does with yours. Suddenly, the atmosphere is taut and palpable with tension for what may become of the future.

Sly, sly little songbird.

Something most unanticipated happens, and you reveal your hands, which you freed from their binds. Maybe it shouldn’t surprise Scaramouche, what with your prowess in the art of escape, but regardless your smile stretches in the presence of the astonishment that lifts his eyebrows and makes his eyes flash white, if only briefly. You take your time observing such a paltry display of rare, raw, emotion, how it shapes the contours of his features at the command of your actions. And gently, you take his hand that graces your throat and tenderly place it on your cheek.

"Ah... You've always been this way, haven't you, Kunikuzushi? Since the very day fate first connected your eyes to mine? " You slant your head into his cold hand with all the fragility of a shedding lotus petal descending into a reservoir, resting your cheek against his cold, liquid touch. Although, the action is far from affectionate. Rather, it's reminiscent of a sort of obstinacy, wearing the facade of love.

"You pine for my heart like you're starved for my flesh.” You take his hand and pass it through your cloak, poising it on your chest, right above your pumping heart.

"But... Perhaps I have no heart to offer you. What then? What will you do when you realize, there is no flesh to pick from my bones? No heart beneath my ribs?"

Scaramouche trudges through your words, running them across his mind. No plausible answer makes itself seen. He relinquishes his hand from your chest.

A cat may not have wings, but it is unrelenting.

“If you have no heart…” He murmurs, before smiling a bitter smile, “Then I’ll make you learn how to love.” how to love him. “I’ll create a heart in the shape of my love, and then I’ll take it. By force if I must.”

"You're willing to create something, just to seize and destroy it..." His words taste like blood upon your tongue. Strange. Carrying pleasantry and uncanniness in a sordid congruence. your lips falter from their smile.

"What a rotten soul you have... When will you realize that your avarice will be your demise?"

A wry, perhaps relenting chuckle emerges from your throat. Then you sigh.

"Perhaps we were made for each other." “

Then why do you run from me? Why do you fight, when you’re meant to be mine?” He asks, vehement, pertinacious.

"But that is where you're mistaken, Scaramouche. You see—” You direct your pointer finger to his chest, resting it in the junction between his collarbones.

“—You're tenacious in pursuing me. But I'm," You points at herself, "Tenacious in avoiding you. We are made for each other like the same ends of two magnets. The same, yet destined to be apart."

There it is, another one of your challenging remarks. The chirping nightingale wriggles free and unfurls it's wings, just as the cat thinks the bird is trapped beneath its paws. And oh, how infuriating, how exhilarating you are. Hatred is a simmering tempest that ignites the harbinger's temper. He despises how affixed he is to you, to the thought of trapping you beneath his claws, only for you to fly free and rejoice your liberation in song. It's petty. It's pathetic. It's irresistible. The Balladeer scoffs.

“Is this all just a game of push and pull to you? Just how long are you willing to avoid me?”

 “How long are you willing to pursue me?”

“Until you submit to me.”

“Then, until you set me free.”

Scaramouche can only watch as you put on your hideous, inhuman, anomalistic smile. Fine, then. If nothing else, he’ll build you a gilded cage to lure you into a golden prison disguised as a paradise. He’ll rip your wings from your body, flesh and bone marrow hanging in loose tendrils, so to erase all notions of flying free from your unreadable mind that he tends to make his possession, until you’re bleeding so sweetly beneath his claws. His beautiful songbird, who sings in the shape of his love.

Because you were made for him. He, the heartless one, who wishes for a heart. For your heart, which you are't willing to offer. Which you wish you never had.

You’re the only one who believes he still has a soul; that he ever had one, rotten as it may be.

Scaramouche cannot let that go. Regardless of how many times you flee from his talons, he will find you and chase you to the very ends of this earth.

Fly away, little singing nightingale.

[meanbossart]

Idk if you’ve answered a question like this previously, but I’ve always been fascinated by the dynamics between characters that are like, romantically involved and near-physically infallible, and have their identities tied into that. So this is to say— how is DU!drow and Astarions dynamic affected when one is hurt badly, like needing time to recover? Or just out-of-commission in some way? Are they patient with each other, or is this a sort of disaster scenario where they just have to wait for things to blow over in order to become normal again, since du!drow is so tied into his physical capabilities, and Astarion his appearance?

Idk if this question makes sense but basically: are they nice to each other if one isn’t at their best/not feeling great? Are they introspective enough to manage their (relative) mortality constructively or would this be very bad for them?

Hm, there's a lot of minutiae about this that I don't think I can satisfyingly cover. In summary - they realistically both know each other to not be infallible, and while depending on the circumstances some mild guilt-tripping could occur, they wouldn't put each other's lives at risk if a situation became life-threatening.

(Some post-scriptural editing here: keep in mind the context of these guy's lives. They are seedy adventurers and no strangers to risk, danger and combat - you can safely assume that none of what I'm about to say applies to the types of injuries they must sustain on a weekly basis due to their lifestyle. They are used to seeing each other get mildly hurt and not making a fuss about it.)

DU drow essentially already views Astarion as disabled and/or sick because of his vampirism. While he knows that he can handle himself in battle, the moment that something takes Astarion down his world stops and his only preoccupation proceeds to be ensuring his safety and health - he's much more likely to be a overbearing caretaker than a negligent one. Ironically, the fact that Astarion's vampirism gives him regenerative powers is a huge blessing here, otherwise this would probably be a much bigger issue between them than it currently is.

And yet, the negative consequences of his vampirism are what begin to jump out to him post-game. The blood-hunger, the aversion to running bodies of water, the constant concern and restrictions imposed by the day-cycle, etc. In his mind, these are things that make Astarion require a caretaker: himself.

Astarion functions the other way around. It would take a truly dramatic event or grand gesture out of DU drow for him to assume an injury or occurrence has disabled him in a significant way, physically or psychologically - which makes sense, because DU drow would have to be deeply shaken by something to actually allow others to see it. He has observed how DU drow's gall has gotten them through sticky situations again and again, and is definitely at fault for always assuming that he will ultimately be fine no matter what, and not taking some signs as seriously as he should. That said, if bad came to worse, Astarion would definitely be able to quickly change his tune and adapt into a caretaking role, he'd just have to be shocked into it first.

However, Astarion is also a lot more adept at dealing with DU drow's weird hangups. He's a lot more likely to express his concern with the "required" level of aloofness so DU drow's pride isn't hurt in the process.

Interestingly enough, when you stop to think about it these are narratives that they very much built for themselves, and will likely have to undo throughout the decades to come. Astarion carefully manicures a version of his victimization to earn your sympathy, manipulate you, and ultimately use your help to escape his enslavement - while he is much more than that, that is the base of what he was selling from the start and an impression that DU drow can't easily forget. Meanwhile, DU drow obviously wants to be seen as borderline indestructible and willfully dismisses - if not outright discourages or reprehends - any show of concern that might call that status into question. In other words: fools played themselves.

[jellybeanium124]

Don’t hate yourself for liking someone’s works. Something to remember is that Neil Gaiman wrote his stories to target young, vulnerable people. He was writing his stories to attract fans, and interacted with the fans to entice and groom them. Some of his victims met at book signings. All were fans of his books.

The stories were written with your admiration in mind. It’s not your fault he wants to hold the admiration of people of your demographic.

First, I don't.

Second, I think you are making up a story here bro. I think once upon a time there was a teenager in england who worked in journalism but wanted to write books, and then he was the one-in-a-million lucky soul who wrote his books and they became wildly famous and successful. and then after he accrued power and fame he started exploiting it. I'm not saying people who abuse power don't tend to try and get themselves into positions of power, but "famous author" is a pretty difficult career path and one likely to fail.

with this narrative you've concocted, you've removed his humanity from him, as well as any sort of genuine love of storytelling or creation he definitely has. like he's just as human as the rest of us, and I simply do not believe that he is a monster who only cares about attracting 20-something women and does this by crafting beautiful stories for the page and screen.

there's a concept I've talked about before, the Fetishist. as someone with a widely hated fetish, I've thought a lot about how people think people with my fetish are not humans but Fetishists, monsters who look human but only care about fulfilling their fetish, and see all other people as Objects They Can Use or Nothing. you've turned gaiman into the Predator, which is the same thing just a bit broader. the Predator is a monster shaped like a human, but unlike a human who cares about a myriad of things and has a three-dimensional personality, the Predator only cares about Preying On [usually young women or children], and every human being is, to them, either a Target To Prey On or Nothing. neil gaiman is not the Predator because the Predator doesn't exist. I don't think he had a long term plan. I don't think 19yo neil gaiman was going "hehehehe I can't wait until I become world famous so I can use that to coerce women into sleeping with me!"

turning ng into something evil is easy. because then you don't have to think about the good he's done. then you don't have to think about how he's been a supporter of queer people since the 90s. then you don't have to think about how he's supported refugees or ukraine. you don't have to think about his works of tzedakah or tikkun olam, and you don't have to think about the beautiful art he's made (and while we're here, let's think before dehumanizing a jewish man, hm?). it also handily makes it so you never have to worry about your own behaviors. because you're a three-dimensional person! so of course you could never be the Predator. or the Abuser. or the Fetishist. or the Narcissist.

until I see proof debunking this, I am going to continue believing he made the art he wanted to see in the world out of a genuine wish to be an author, and not primarily to put himself in a position of power to abuse women. maybe he always had tendencies towards manipulation. maybe part of him always knew that if he became famous then there would undoubtedly be women falling over themselves for him. because we all know that. we all know that if we became famous there would be people who we could exploit for sex. that's not a secret. part of me would like to be famous. I wanna work in the film industry. I have silly dreams, of course. but I'm not pursuing this difficult line of work in order to someday abuse people, I'm pursuing it because of a genuine love of making movies. neil gaiman was a guy who wanted to become a writer, and then he did, and then he abused that position, repeatedly. we have three examples now. I wouldn't be surprised if more women started coming out about their experience, because three is absolutely a pattern, and because claire did the brave thing of being the second one to speak out (since scarlett and the other one whose pseudonym I can't remember atm came out at the same time). and now that there's been two exposés, two podcasts, three stories total, more are going to come. I'd be more surprised if they didn't. but that doesn't make neil gaiman the Predator. it makes him a man who did shitty things repeatedly.

[seaadc]

hello!!! if you’re up for this, can i request any genshin men with a reader who feels like a horrible person because of things they’ve done in the past? i have a guilt complex lmaoooooo (i say lmao but it’s agony) (PEOPLE IN THE CROWD WITH A GUILT COMPLEX PUT YOUR HANDS UPPPP)

also this is a complete side note but i think this concept would be especially interesting with wrio since he’s always in the fortress or meropide, seeing people who have done wrong everyday in the fairly normal system (by jail standards) they have down there

guilt | wriothesley x reader

OH GOD THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY ASKS FOR A WHILE NOW IM SO SORRY MY NOTIFS ARE ALWAYS FILLED UP AND I DONT SEE ASKS ANYMOREEE T-T

angst w fluff at the end, soft!wrio, he’s comforting youu, gets a bit suggestive at the end, no pronouns used but reader is referred to as ‘my love’ and ‘princess’

it’s nothing to be concerned about really, if you were a criminal and probably rotting in the fortress of meropide for— archons knows how long, you would’ve just let your conscience be the death of you.

but you aren’t! your not sitting around and laying in the fortress of doom meropide, thank the archons.

though you can’t help but think if the seven are laughing at you, quite literally. your state isn’t so stable as it seems..

wriothesley, your partner, had called sigewinne ages ago to check on your health status. although it was all negative, the tests, the results, the examinations, all negative.

there wasn’t anything wrong with you, so why is there an aching pain in your stomach whenever your brain just relapses back to the past, the time where you had done such unforgiving sins, you couldn’t even do a whole statement word for word on what you had done to those poor victims.

one of them, someone special to you. someone special that you had lost because of your own carelessness, someone you had lost because you were being selfish, someone who you wished to cherish for a lifetime— though fate is mocking you unfortunately.

and the pain, the inkling pain deep inside that you cant ignore, it’s annoying. it’s frustrating. it’s … sad.

it’s a pity to see someone like you, a nice person who only wished to improve themselves and hope for a better future. yet it seems celestia didn’t approve.

your longtime partner, wriothesley, had been worried for you. ever since you met, you were always dozing off, not focusing, you looked uncomfortable yet he couldn’t pinpoint what was actually wrong.

it was starting to piss him off, really. the way you doze off when he talks to you, when you two spend time together and your too busy in your own little world to pay attention to him.

wriothesley had decided to sit you down, like what any partner would do when they encounter a misunderstanding or a mishap. communication is key after all.

he couldn’t ever forget the look on your face, the day where you looked at him with such pitiful eyes and regretful ones while he just stared back at you with a stern look.

he feels pity, wriothesley feels pity. someone like him shouldn’t, so what is this he feels?

“tell me what’s been bugging you for months, [name].” wriothesley takes a deep breath, then exhales as you sat there, fidgeting with your fingers. “i didnt get the chance to ask you back then, since it was your privacy after all, hm?” he spoke firmly, his voice laced with curiosity and the tone where he just wants to know the truth.

just tell him, it wouldn’t be so hard. he’s your partner after all, you have every right to tell him so. “[name], i’m doing this to help you. you’re someone extremely precious to me and i can’t help myself just seeing you look so lost.” wriothesley explains, sighing deeply as he waits for your response.

how would he react? he’s the all mighty scary wriothesley after all. he’s known to have less mercy and sympathy on others. why tell? you’ll just embarrass yourself, you thought to yourself.

but you couldn’t. you couldn’t keep a secret, especially towards him. if he was any other people, a stranger, you would’ve kept it till the end of your life. but he’s not just a stranger.

he’s your partner, your loved one, your everything. wriothesley is someone you can trust, someone you care for. is it really worth keeping a secret from him?

you took a deep breath, letting the air get past your nostrils. “i have.. committed alot of unforgettable things in the past, someone like you wouldn’t like. someone like you wouldn’t appreciate.” you confessed, looking down and avoiding your beloved’s longing stare.

wriothesley looks at you, tilting his head in confusion. you? doing things that he couldn’t possibly imagine? “ever since i’ve started to open up a new path to walk on, the guilt in my chest still pains me. it’s almost eating me whole.” you continue.

he smiles at you, not a happy smile, a faint sad smile. he’s quite joyful about how you were guilty, and not like any other person who wouldnt even feel the slightest bit of empathy to what they’ve done wrong in the past.

this is the [name] he fell inlove with. the honest, confident, firm, one. there was no denying that wriothesley was hopelessly inlove with you. and he finds it lovingly amusing.

“if you regret it, then it’s okay. you don’t have to be in debt of a thing you regret on doing. if you truly feel guilt, then it just means your improving and want to be a better person my love.” he smiles, standing up and walking over to your seat, crouching before you as you were forced to look at him.

wriothesley holds your chin, going up to caress your cheeks coated with a red flush. “it may be your fault or not, but there will always be a way to fight back the sins of the past. you can get through it, i know you can.”

“your the strong and confident lady i love after all, hm?” he says with a grin, which makes your already flustered enough face go even more red.

you smile tenderly as he continues to caress your cheek, you leaned into his touch as you hear him chuckle lowly. wriothesley stands up straight, his hand now on your head as he ruffles your soft and silky hair.

wriothesley smirks, a teasing one. which means he’s probably going to say something just to tease you and to lighten up the mood a bit. “besides, i’m the only one who’s allowed to eat you whole, princess.”

made by @seaadc and @seaadc only !!

laughinf bc i made this at exactly 1am LMFAOO (i’m mentally unstable)

[f10werfae]

Oops, Sorry Daddy

pairing: Husb!Dad!Chris x Mom!Wife!Reader

summary: Can u do a fic with Chris evans x reader and the triplets where they all just clingy with their mamma lol (requested by anon)

requests are open/likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated♥️

Chris Evans Masterlist, Full Masterlist, Taglist form

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Sitting on the couch, with each triplet laid out in front of her, Y/n couldn’t help but swoon at the sight of her babies all beside each other, her husband Chris was right behind her with his arms around her waist. Isabella, Noah and Jacob Evans, the cutest things to arrive on planet Earth.

“Hm which one of you should I eat first?” Y/n cooed smacking kisses on Noah’s cheeks repeatedly, his squeals lifting up the room, his siblings now pouting due to not getting the same amount of attention. His feet being the next victim, Y/n pretending to eat them by pressing kisses on all ten of his small toes, with him scrunching them up at each sensation.

“Don’t worry mama didn’t forget her other babies, oh no” Y/n laughed sweetly, doing the same to the other two buggers, her husband placing open mouthed kisses onto her neck and shoulder from behind. His smile content and happy with the family home he’s made for himself, someone to care for, someone to love and someone to come home to.

Showing off their gummy Evan smiles, each of them slowly made their way towards Y/n, who was basking in the feeling of her husband’s arms supporting her. His gruff grown beard rubbing gently along her neck as he whispered nothing but ‘I love you guys so much’ ‘so so pretty’ ‘Thank you baby, for all of this’

With all of them still being relatively small, they all managed to squeeze themselves into the space between Y/n's legs, each of them nuzzling their head into her stomach and chest adorably. “No love for dada?” Chris questioned peeking his head over his wife’s shoulders, the three Evans looked up at him, tilted their head curiously before smiling back up at their momma.

All their tiny hands fisting her shirt as they bounced up and down trying to get some more of her renowned hugs, the first hug they felt when they first came into the world.

“Tsk hoggers” Chris scoffed hugging onto his wife tighter to bring her more into his chest, taking in her soft lavender scent.

“Hey, these are our little babies” Y/n pouted picking up tiny baby Jacob, his face the exact double of Chris', his arms going around Y/n’s neck to rest his head on her shoulder, sticking his tongue out at his daddy, who obviously made the faces in the first place.

“Yeah yeah, angels or whatever” Chris chuckled watching his other two angels just look up at Y/n as if she was the most beautiful thing on planet Earth, yep they were definitely milk drunk

Chris laughed looking at the dried milk moustache on each of them, wiping it off with his winter jumper before giving each of them a sweet kiss on their cheeks.

“Why do they never wanna cuddle with me?” Chris said out loud starting to fake cry, instantly catching the attention of his only daughter, baby Isabella. Leaving the comfort of her older brothers, she slowly clambered her way over to her father’s lap, her tiny hands trying to steady herself before sitting comfortably.

“Dada, cry?” She asked looking up at him with those beautiful sparkling eyes of hers, ones she inherited from her momma, ones that Chris loved to look at every single day. Chris felt his heart swell at the sight of his baby girl, her tiny sparse hairs sticking up all over the place, her mouth formed into a tiny pout with her big doe eyes scanning his face. Her fingers mindlessly playing with his bigger ones, twisting and turning the golden wedding band on his finger.

“No baby, no cry, jus playin'” Chris explained knowing damn well she didn’t understand the last part with their limited vocabulary, his hands going to pick her up and cradle her in his arms. Her soft giggles filling the room, her brothers soon leaving to follow her to their dad, with all three now sitting comfortably on his lap and arms. Noah and Jacob finding themselves trying to stuff themselves up Chris' shirt, a habit they had picked up throughout the last few weeks.

“Ha! Beat you honey, got them this time” Chris smirked smugly at his wife, obviously winning the competition this time, softly bouncing all three mini Evans in his arms.

Y/n being the smart woman she is, knows exactly how to lure her breastfed babies back, with one clip of a bra and all three are back in her arms. All three opening their mouths for a bit of her sweet milk, one they realised they were in competition for. Chris faced her in shock with a glimmer of hot red on his cheeks, choosing instead to clear his throat, stand up and head to the bedroom.

“I WON BABYY” Y/n shouted hugging all three of them, their giggles getting louder as they watched Chris turn around last minute, shake his head before beckoning Y/n over with a wag of a finger. God was she in for it now. I guess it wasn’t too early to put them down for a nap…

———

Taglist Tags (Form is up there^^): @pandaxnienke @patzammit @seren-a-ity @chrisevansdaughter @chrisevansangel @cevansgurl @marvelgurl @taramaria @mirikusashes @misshale21 @hallecarey1 @jackslover12 @bxdbxtxh15 @vrittivsanghavi @dumb-fawkin-bitch @madebylilly @aerangi @caps-shield1918 @evanstanwhore @thereisa8ella @mrspeacem1nusone @itsaylayay1213 @kimhtoo17 @sairsei @tojisbabymomma @tinyelfperson @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @royalwriteroftheuniverse @fdl305 @mysticfalls01 @mdpplgtz03 @xoxokiaraaxoxo @uwiuwi @stormcloudss @adoreyouusugar @imboredat2am @mansaaay @girl-of-multi-fandoms @meetmeatyourworst @nikkitc0703 @mischiefsemimanaged @oliviah-25 @s-void @roofwitty779 @alina02 @bookfrog242 @alexxavicry @bluebellsn @feltonswifesworld87 @ravenhood2792

[epiclamer]

(Memoria)

Part 2

Air Supply

The hero didn’t know how long they had been trapped in the alley for. The minutes they were sure of felt like hours and the hours they felt they endured seemed longer than months. Struggling and struggling before they would black out again, only to wake to struggle some more.

When the Agency had caught word of the Supervillain’s gas bombing downtown, the hero was the very first to respond. Trading out their regular mask for a respirator in order to charge head first into the mess.

In the end, they had counted seventeen civilian lives saved—by their own hand—and two structural collapses safely avoided. Only once everything had settled had the hero allowed themselves to start their walk home, when they were interrupted by a pair of villains who seemed to have other plans in mind.

Each time they woke they grew weaker, a pair of arms keeping them up by their armpits was the only thing keeping them on their feet anymore. It was humiliating, degrading and most of all exhausting. They just wanted to give up, to give in, but some survival instinct inside kept them fighting as best as they could before their inevitable collapse.

The villain had only caught a glimpse as they fled from the previous crime scene, but it was enough to stop them dead in their tracks. They didn’t recognize their hero at first, they didn’t need to. Two villains laughing and torturing anyone down the side of a dark street was interesting enough for a pitstop.

They hesitated, just to get a feel for the situation, before curiosity took over rationality and the villain headed down the alley, stopping a few feet from the attraction. The other two villains stopped their messing around at the sight of the other, Villain recognized them as Other Villain and Thief, and in the back of their head they calculated their chances of winning this fight.

“Am I interrupting?”

The other two exchanged looks, the villain noticed the Thief was holding up their victim and was keeping them restrained, meanwhile Other Villain was covering the inlet valve on the captive’s gas mask. Villain tried for a look at the rest of them, but between the two criminals they could barely get a peek.

“Figures you’d want in.” Thief sneered, tightening their grip on the other. “Who told you, hm?”

Villain shrugged, “was just passing by when I noticed.”

The masked individual twitched, arms flailing for a second, before the two restraining them shared a glance. Some type of understanding passing between the two of them, they didn’t waste anymore time, releasing their holds and the figure fell to floor in a heap.

“They’ve already passed out, what?” Other Villain looked to their partner, both of them dusting themselves off as they approached the villain. “Well, at least a few times now, but have your fun while they last.” Thief smirked at the villain and Other Villain patted them once on the shoulder as they passed each other.

“Oh and, be thankful we took care of your pathetic little problem. Considering it was taking you so long anyways.” In unison the pair laughed as they disappeared down the street. Villain didn’t even bother to turn around, their eyes were glued to the person on the floor.

They recognized that suit.

“Hero…”

As the other’s voices trailed further and further, only when they were quiet whispers did the villain make a move—and a brash one at that. Rushing forwards and hauling the hero off their stomach and to their knees, Villain pulled them tight against their chest. Practically ripping off the gas mask when they were steadied and immediately they could hear the other gasp for air.

The villain watched patiently as their nemesis coughed and hacked and choked on nothing. Air filling their lungs in a flush was too much for the dizzy hero.

If what the other two criminals had said about the hero passing out multiple times already was true, then the villain was satisfied with just seeing that they were breathing. Suffocation had too many terrible side effects that the villain couldn’t handle to think about at the moment, seeing the hero be alive was enough to help them calm down.

“Hey, hey, hey, take it easy… easy now, you’re okay.” They tried to be comforting, but the hero was out of it. Their eyes were unfocused, blurry and bloodshot, while their mouth blabbered incoherent nonsense and their limbs flailed wildly at no one in particular.

Villain made sure to support the other’s weight, letting them fall against them, sliding down the criminal’s body until the hero’s head landed in the villain’s lap. Too tired to keep up the fight of holding their head high, Hero stayed collapsed against the villain’s thighs.

“Deep breaths… deep breaths, Hero…” the other whined in response, feeling the villains hands slowly unzipping their suit from the back. If anything was a possible deterrent to the hero’s air intake, Villain was getting rid of it. Stripping the crime-stopper down into their under clothes and maneuvering their limp limbs out of the holes of their suit was definitely a task in itself.

Let alone dealing with the villain’s racing heart and matching head. Filled with first aid procedures, fears, anxieties and filthy thoughts, the villain was overwhelmed. All they could think to do while they worked was shush the other gently, hoping it was reassuring in the hero’s delusional state.

“All done, Hero… Good job, shh, you did so well…” the villain cooed, helping the hero back into their lap as they began to breathlessly sob.

Once they were both settled comfortably, the hero hyperventilating and the villain rubbing soft circles into their back, new plans began to form in the villain’s mind. They needed a safe space to go for the hero to rest and heal, all the while Villain continued to work in peace.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t much of a question, Villain knew exactly where to take the hero and they knew exactly what would come of it.