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#in order to achieve what he needs to
sashimiyas · 7 months
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osamu has a soft spot for single mothers because they remind him of his own
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lgbtlunaverse · 11 months
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Could someone tell me where the interpretation that, in book canon, the promotion Nie Mingjue gives Meng Yao made Meng Yao's life worse than it was before, came from?
I have seen that claim made multiple times now and I've looked at the text over and over trying to see where the basis for it is and I. Can't find it? Don't get me wrong, it absolutely spells out that it does not and cannot fix everything for Meng Yao, but the idea that it was actively bad for him?
Lacking other evidence, I kind of have to assume that it comes from cql canon being sort of projected backwards onto book canon. In cql canon, meng yao is suffering active and explicit bullying and abuse from the captain while under the nie, and does so because the capain believes he has risen above his station via nmj's promotion of him. (In book canon this... isn't happening. It happens with the captain in Langya instead) However, in cql canon he has also been with the nie for years and is openly close to both Nie Mingjue and Nie Huasiang, whereas in book canon he has only been working with nie mingjue for a few months (though has, in that time, apparently become close enough to him for Lan Xichen to explicitly state Meng Yao is able to calm nmj down in ways no one else can? Ofc he does this... Right after that stops being true. But. Food for thought. Not what this post is about tho.) So, if you project the much more explicit abuse from the nie sect captain in cql back on novel jgy who has a presumably much less stable position in the sect overall you get... a meng yao for whom the promotion only means a bigger target on his back and virtually no protection from nmj, who we must assume he can't trust to talk to his about because he never mentions it. (This also explicitly violates book canon when it comes to meng yao's general behaviour, we'll talk about that in a sec)
And look. We all do frankencanon in this house. I get it. And for fanfiction that is very fun. But for a serious reading of the character, his situation, and the actions that lead from that this... doesn't make much sense, in my opinion.
So. Why is that? Why did I say this was out of character for the novel? Because Meng yao spoke up about the jin captain mistreating him. Multiple times! It's just that none of it mattered because no one cared to listen to him. This is a pretty important line for his character because it flatly shows that meng yao is not and has never seen murder as something trivial. He's not trigger happy. He will only do it if he sees no other way out that doesn't end in himself being seriously harmed. (Whether he's right or justified in these cases is not the point of this post.)
If anything remotely similar was happening in the Nie sect, he would have said so. Cql Meng Yao doesn't do this because cql Meng Yao is a different character, and also the plot wouldn't work if he did. Cql Nie Mingjue, by extension, comes off as a fundamentally less trustworthy figure in cql Meng Yao's life because apparently for whatever reason, he cannot be trusted with the information that the deputy he has already publicly defended is still being harassed, and doesn't notice even when it is really blatant. The assumtpion the audience is given is that, like a middle schooler getting the principal involved when being bullied, it would only make the harassment more viscious.
This... actually has a somewhat solid basis in the book. Because after nmj yells at the bullies in question Wei Wuxian says this.
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And it is important to keep in mind that this is Wei Wuxian saying this. Not Meng Yao, not an omniscient narrator. Wei wuxian is drawing on his own experiences, likely from the Jiang family, to conclude that if someone is angry at you and thwarted by someone defending you, this generally does not make them less angry at you.
This is leaving out two crucial things, though.
Firstly, this worry isn't about the promotion at all.
The promotion hasn't even been brought up. In the novel it doesn't ctually happen immediately, it takes another few battles where meng yao continues to do his job well and nie mingjue continues praising him for him to eventually go "yeah, you deserve a raise."
This is another aspect that is being projected from cql canon onto book canon I presume, because it does happen quite quickly there, and it's a throwaway line in the books so it's easy to miss. I can't be mad about anyone forgetting the difference, but it is important to mention for this particular analysis.
Which is the second point: change in status
Wei Wuxian couldn't exactly change status within the Jiang family. (And if he could, that would just fuel rumours that he was jfm's bastard even more and make madam yu even angrier at him, etc etc.)
This isn't comparable to Meng Yao. The worry Wei Wuxian is talking about is explitly about Nie Mingjue's initial very loud defense of him. Before he has any idea Nie Mingjue is going to promote him.
Promoting him would likely decrease his chances of cultivators coming after him because now he was in a higher standing in the sect than they were. If applied to that earlier metaphor of middle school bullying it's like if the bullied kid suddenly got hired as a teacher. Which. Doesn't work with the metaphor at all. Touché. But what I am trying to say is that any payback they would have planned for him relied on the fact that they could make sure that Nie Mingjue wasn't going to be within very convenient earshot a second time, and as a random disciple Meng Yao couldn't just go complain to him every time.
But as his right hand man? Who spends most of his time working directly alongside him? Lmao. Good luck. Oh, sure, it is very likely that they feel offended a son of a whore has been raised in status above them, and many will continue to do so as jgy rises through cultivation society (in fact, Wei Wuxian's observations are absolutely on point for how Madam Jin will be treating jgy later on). But as we can also see from the way jgy is treated and how he treats others throughout the story: you can be upset all you want, but if that person is higher than you in status there's jack shit you can do about it.
If I am correct and Wei Wuxian is basing this on his experiences with the Jiang family, it makes sense why he'd miss this. Madam Yu gets to be way angrier at Jiang Fengmian as his wife than some random disciples can be at Nie Mingjue. Insulting Meng Yao, suggesting that he didn't deserve his promotion or that he earned it through less than proper means (you know who is mother is) is also an insult to Nie Mingjue and the way he chooses to run his sect. They can't do that.
Another thing I see brought up in this regard would be the tea scene. There may be no explicit harassment like in the show, but cultivators still don't respect him! The disrespect is just quieter and more subtle.
Tiny detail: these are actually not Nie cultivators
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They're cultivators Lan Xichen is escorting with him, making a pitstop in heijan.
The book confirms this by basically outright stating that this is the first time they see his face, and recognize him as Jin Guangshan's bastard son.
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Now, just because there is no proof that it happened doesn't mean it definitely never happened. Mdzs is a novel that often leaves stuff out or up to interpretation. Similar stuff to the tea situtation could very well be happening in the background. But I do think it is pretty significant that there is no mention whatsoever of Meng Yao having any negative treatment from Nie cultivators betwen him and Nie Mingjue meeting and him executing them while spying for Wen Ruohan, and the most we get is Wei Wuxian's personal speculation, after which he immediately goes to wax poetic about how surprised he is that Meng Yao and Nie Mingjue are getting along super well.
And, again, novel Meng Yao would have said something. He doesn't say anything about the tea scene. - Or? Does he? Notably 3zun have some very long in depth conversations that Wei Wuxian zones out from because he's busy thinking about Lan Zhan again. But let's not rely on what-ifs. Let's say that neither he nor Lan Xichen find it worth bringing up. Major reasons for that would be that a) these are not nie cultivators, nie mingjue wouldn't really have the authority to scold them. Especially because b) it's such a subtle offense it could easily be handwaved as coincidence. "They just always brush their cups clean like that!! It's wartime you know, and they were traveling! They're used to drinking from vessels that aren't thoroughly washed everytime! It's just a habit!" And would therefore not be worth reporting.
But anything worse than that? A "price tens or hundreds of times greater" like wwx mentions? He'd report it! I do understand that "well if it was happening why didn't he say something?" would, in real life, be victim blaming. This is not real life, and I am not talking about this in a matter of blame. If Meng Yao was being mistreated in the Nie and stayed silent about it, it would still not be his fault. I am talking about this in a manner of character consistency.
His admission of seeking help in the Jin sect shows that at that time and prior to it (a very good argument can be made that he loses faith in this idea) he believes that if he is being mistreated and someone with the authority to say something about it takes his side, things can improve. If Nie Mingjue standing up for him in Qinghe only made things worse, he would not have tried to ask for help in an even more hostile environment. You can call Meng Yao many things, but naïve isn't one of them.
Meng yao's later habit of completely isolating himself and lying to everyone around him comes from the fact that revealing his suffering would mean explaining several horrible things he's become complicit in and he does not feel safe admitting to that. But he's done nothing wrong here!
The reading where he says nothing would imply an either correct or incorrect belief in Meng Yao's eyes that Nie Mingjue did not much care for his wellbeing or safety. Oh sure he defended him once but doing so again multiple times would be such a bother. This also contradicts his later behaviour, where he banks solely on Nie Mingjue's protective instincts to seal his qi and escape during the confrontation in Langya. After having been caught murdering a man, he is still convinced Nie Mingjue will immediately try to help him when he is in serious danger.
And even if you very badly want to characterize Nie Mingjue as a blundering idiot who is apparently less trustworthy in Meng Yao's eyes than the jin cultivators who had already resoundly rejected him by the time he tries to ask for help with the langya captain. He doesn't say anything to Xichen either! Lan Xichen, who has explicitly and exhaustively been portrayed as kind and understanding to Meng Yao's circumstances and very willing to talk to Mingjue if Meng Yao wants something from him he doesn't otherwise think he'd get. The conversation Mingjue overhears where Meng Yao's new position in the Nie is explictly brought up would be kind of the perfect time to go "yeah I've been promoted but I'm not treated well by other soldiers" aaaand. Nothing. So unless you come to the conclusion that Meng Yao trusted the Jin he told about the captain's abuse more than Lan Xichen you kind of have to conclude that Meng Yao's treatment after his promotion improved significantly. And that even if people still disliked him they could not openly do anything about it because he was high enough in status for that to be socially inappropiate. Which is, explicitly, one of his main motivators over the entire course of the story: Avoiding mistreatment by getting high enough on the social ladder it doesn't matter what people think of him, they can't hurt him.
And I'm not sure how to reconcile that character journey with the idea that he would, at any point, have preferred to keep his head down and stay where he was. When he was so desperate to crawl his way out.
#the main tragedy of his character- of course- being that he keeps achieving that status and it is never enough#he achieves standing with the nie and the favor of a major sect leader and it's not enough for his father to even give him the time of day#he kills wrh amd becomes a war hero and gets acknowledged by his father!!#and all it gets him is nmj's constant distrust abuse at the hands of his stepmother and complicity in mass murder by his father's orders#he gets to the HIGHEST POSITION SOCIETY HAS. LITERAL CHIEF CULTIVATOR. And the moment he stumbles everyone turns on him immediately#like they were all just waiting for him to get low enough again that they could kick him further down#it's a rise-fall-rise-fall-rise-fall journey with every step up being a desperate fight and every tumble down being way too quick and easy#but! that rise still needs to be there!! for the story to work!!#the tragedy of qinghe for meng yao is how easily he loses nmj's fsvor. NOT that having it was bad in the first place#I understand that this reading is mainly done to put nmj in a bad light but I do genuinely think it does jgy a disservice#people more often apply this to him becoming jin guangyao which does in a lot of ways doom and trap him#and yes fuck jgs fuck that guy all the way to hell#but the key is that meng yao can't just get a happy ending by refusing power#he's not power hungry. what he wants is in fact reasonable- he's just willing to do a lot more than most to get it#'things would've been better if nmj didn't promote him/didn't send him to langya'#feels as reductive to me as the 'why can't he just be xichen's house boyfriend and join the lan instead' takes.#mdzs#meng yao#jin guangyao#mdzs meta#? sorta#feels too ranty to call meta#this is what i was talking about in my past post about how frustrating it is to base metas around disagreeing with others#makes analysis feel like discourse when that is NOT what i am trying to do#long post with long tags
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divinekangaroo · 2 months
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Tommy's 'i have no limitations' after he shoots michael dead via bullet to the eye = his most depressing rote realisation, that he will do pretty much anything? (kill and fuck?)
there is the other way to read that line, which is that supposed god complex reading that the sigma boys enjoy, but TBH every time tommy goes near that line (or even the "you're not God" / "not yet" exchange he has with Charlie) it's usually so bitterly tongue in cheek it sounds like he says it like a blatant inverse relevation OF his limitations.
but the way Tommy says that after Michael, after killing his cousin which he...probably didn't really want to do except for the way Michael absolutely wouldn't let him be. Tommy couldn't guarantee everyone's safety back in England (especially Charlie) after his own impending death unless Michael and his vengeance campaign was out of the picture.
Therefore: no limitations. he does what it takes
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paimonial-rage · 1 year
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About the bookkeepingverse do you plan on letting reader know zhongli is morax? Also like will there be romantic developments?
Yes, I do plan on letting reader know that Zhongli is Morax. It's down the line, but it's something I do have specifically planned.
As for romantic developments, I... don't know for now. It depends on how things flow. You'd think that, as a writer, I'd have a lot of control over the flow of my stories, but I honestly don't haha. What I can say is that, while I may not know the nature of their relationship end-game, it will be a deep one.
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larrythefloridaman · 2 years
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google :)
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love u goog <3
#to explain the dotted squares: Why Are You A Redhead When You Are Bing's Clone.#and the other is like. lets get one thing straight i love goog to death everything in season 2? wouldnt change a damn thing#but i feel like the susan thing was resolved too quickly. and his relationship with mac has gone. underaddressed.#goog was raised by dr. order and i love that he defects right away when shown a first glimmer of something more meaningful#it works well to demonstrate the point that kindness is what we're. as people. most naturally drawn to when circumstance allows for it#but i think how easy it ultimately comes to him even when that's challenged by his personal hurt later kinda. cheapens it a bit?#kindness is easy but its also very hard sometimes when we are faced with the desire or need to protect ourselves from being hurt#and susan letting goog get his catharsis from attacking her even though it wasnt Her her that hurt him#is something i feel should've left him feeling a bit more. conflicted a bit longer. the resolution was sweet but not fully earned imo?#and then theres mac. your little brother almost kills you in cold blood chasing the same meaningless victory you were raised to achieve#and then just. befriends your platonic partner's little sister and becomes part of the family while changing very little of his outlook#just changing who he answers to because he got his ass kicked. and you're just supposed to feel fucking NORMAL about that???????#idk just think google should get to bite people and be dysfunctional a little more he was raised by doctor order hes not even two years old#he's a shonen protagonist with anxiety but the anxiety doesn't even really interfere meaningfully with anything narratively best i remember#machi has the excuse of being baby to explain why he's so innocent and even he's distinctly self-centered at times#google is a grown man and chooses kindness every day after he got out of there#and that rules. but id like to see him struggle with it just a LIL more#a bit too much of a perfect victim after he gets out for my taste. i had a similar problem with adora in she-ra#lots of not having a frame of reference for a different normal than theirs but always choosing the Right™ thing to do the first time anyway#but thats a mild 'show dont tell'-y writing gripe#its been a good bit since i watched the eps referenced so my feelings might change when i get to them in my rewatch#i simply think meeting a version of your shitty mom that's largely the same but not shitty should make you feel. a lot of different ways#and we didnt really get to see goog wrestle with that after finding out susan wasnt Really her and i think thats kind of a shame#and i dont remember if mac and goog have even shared any screentime after that time Mac Injured Him Terribly with plus ultra
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eclipsed-celestials · 2 years
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Monkey King, since you look a bit like an animal, I was wondering, do you eat other animals?
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".... Check my title, kid." The simian sighed. "Monkeys're omnivores, so yes, I do eat animals.- Or rather, I eat meat. But, I don't eat it if it's been killed specifically for me."
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pprodsuga · 3 months
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i was in a very bad place mentally and i so happened to date a guy for the first time ever in the middle of it all- sweet boy but it got too much for me so i broke up with him and it's been like 3 years since then he has had a girlfriend for like a year now and he is happy (im so glad he deserves it! ) and im here miserable and every guy after him was just a dick, nothing worth my while, and all this makes me question... what if i lost my chance at love?
#timetovent
hi hi - you do things for a reason, even if it seems like it’s all for naught at the time. i truly believe that everything we experience is meant to guide us for a greater purpose in life and that we’re supposed to learn from hardship and happenstance.
with that being said, i also believe that comparison is the thief of joy. i’m glad that you have no hard feelings towards your ex. i always tell my friends that after a long/intense relationship, one needs to spend time by themselves to get reacquainted with who they are as an individual without the label of a significant other. perhaps where you are in life and where he is was meant to be for reasons unknown at this point in time.
we have so much to learn and experience. love is a fickle thing and we often find ourselves thinking we don’t deserve true love because it’s selfish and narcissistic. but love is all around us, it’s in friends and family and your daily routine. love is with you and it will present itself romantically when you stop chasing after it (or so i think through my own experiences).
edit: just wanted to come back here and reaffirm that you are worth every ounce of happiness and love, okay? don’t ever forget that because there will always be someone (me) who thinks you deserve all of that mushy & cliche things.
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gay-dorito-dust · 2 months
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I have been binging your work!
I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈
I adore your writing. Thank you!
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This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️
Sunday:
The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.
Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.
He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.
Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.
His heart had died alongside you that day.
So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.
‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.
‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.
‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’
‘Sunday-‘
‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.
Jing yuan:
Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.
He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.
While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.
You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.
So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.
‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.
‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.
‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.
‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.
‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.
‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.
Aventurine:
He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.
The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.
You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.
So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.
‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.
‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.
‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.
‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’
‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.
‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’
‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘
‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’
You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’
Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.
His light has came home.
Ratio:
Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.
Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.
Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.
A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.
‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.
‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.
‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’
You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’
‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’
‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.
‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.
You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.
‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.
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ozzgin · 5 months
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Request/Idea-
Male Yandere Lawyer x Female Embroider Reader (a lady who works as a tailor is fine too)
Imagine a man falling head over heels for that newly employed lady who hand embroiders beautiful handkerchiefs in a luxury shop he visits to get his custom suits! And he just trying to coax her into dating him, marrying him, and becoming his stay at home wife (and mother of his children eventually) 🥰🤭
Age difference? I need some DILF Daddy energy more in my life (but don’t make him an actual father…yet)
P.S. I adore your OCs and writing. And your artwork is way too fucking good! You’re art is just *chef’s kiss* infuckingcredible
-👘
Ooh, you know what this reminds me of? I have a yaoi volume from Scarlet Beriko, “Queen and the tailor”, about an interior designer that visits a legendary tailor whose suits will supposedly help you achieve success. The tailor turns out to be a scary looking, blunt man but nonetheless extremely talented. I liked the premise a lot, so it’s definitely interesting to try out a different perspective.
In this case I have the image of a patient, soft-spoken reader and a hurried, short tempered lawyer. Comically different but in a way that eventually works out, you know? Also thank you for the kind words!
Yandere!Lawyer x Embroiderer!Reader Headcanons
Featuring a Reader that is blissfully unaware the lawyer she just stared dating has their entire life together already sorted out.
Content: female reader, age gap, older yandere, obsessive behavior
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Your eyes begin to hurt mildly, so you look out the window and blink repeatedly, trying to refresh your poor sight. Such detailed works always strain you terribly, but you love seeing the finished result. Others must, too, given your handkerchiefs are often sold out the very same day. Right before your needle pierces the silk canvas anew, the door opens with a burst and you jolt. An older man in a suit, arguing loudly over the phone. He’s drumming his fingers over the counter, eyes darting around in search for an attendant. You know the type quite well, so you hurry over with the hoop still in your hand. “Might I help you with anything?” You mouth discreetly. He turns to you, stares for a couple of seconds, and promptly ends his call.
Out of all the places, he certainly didn’t expect regretting his rusty, unpolished flirting skills in a luxury tailor shop. Yet here he is now, clumsily mumbling something about his new suit he’s come to pick up and wondering how to connect that with your number. The name’s the easy part, as it’s neatly and conveniently printed out on the little badge pinned to your collar. Everything else, not so much. You excuse yourself and return moments later with his order. Shit. You tilt your head, confused by the delayed response, worrying whether you forgot something. Next time. He’ll figure it out for sure next time he comes here.
If there’s one good thing about his career, it’s that his eyes have been trained to spot every detail. For example the embroidery hoop you gently held while speaking to him, so he knows exactly what his next custom order will be. Truth be told, he didn’t anticipate your popularity and long waiting times, but a calculated raised tone with a sprinkle of intimidation has convinced the employee to assign him to you as earliest priority. Whether he can flirt remains to be seen, but arguing with others? Child’s play.
“Thank you for coming again today.” You bow slightly and extend the gift bag. “Although, I must say…I’ve never seen you using these before. What has caused your sudden interest in handkerchiefs?” Rather bold of you to begin such conversations, but your curiosity is too great. No matter how hard you try, you can’t imagine why a blunt, nonchalant man like him would abruptly become passionate about embroidery. A lover? You smile faintly at the idea. Whoever it is, they’ve taken quite the challenge upon themselves. The lawyer frowns at the inquiry. It seems you’re just as observant as him. Maybe this shall be the pretext he can finally cling onto. So he presents it in the factual truth you’d hear in a courthouse: it’s his excuse to see you. You raise your eyebrows in surprise. Well now, isn’t it just silly? He could’ve simply asked. Buying countless expensive handmade items instead of plainly confessing his intentions…He stumbles, flustered. The same man whose ruthless reputation has even reached your humble ears is anxiously awaiting your response with a deep blush on his face.
The childlike innocence doesn’t last long. You’ve agreed to date him and that’s great, but he’s a man with little time that has known exactly what he wants for many years. When he laid his eyes on you he didn’t imagine cheesy coffee dates as you discuss your favorite color and cautiously breach the topic of intimacy. What’s the point? He’s already certain he’ll spend the rest of his life with you. Skip the unnecessary steps. On the other hand, you’re not as cooperative as he’d wish. Truly, the tangible proof that opposites attract. You’re always calm and take your time with everything. It’s almost frustrating how easygoing you are. When asked when you’re moving in with him, you just smiled and wondered out loud what could be wrong with your small studio above the shop. Marriage? Good question, you never thought about it.
Oh, the irony. Last time a client was being particularly difficult, your lawyer boyfriend pulled him out by the collar under the mortified stares of the other attendants and shoppers. The exact attitude he himself would’ve shown before, yet this time it’s different. Of course it is, it involves you. His thin patience runs out if it’s you. That’s all there is to it. Can you blame a man for following his heart? They say you should always chase your dreams; he prefers hunting them down efficiently, and the shotgun is pointed in your direction. His sweet, exquisite prey he can never get enough of.
Finally you agree to move in with him. Your hesitation was maddening and he’d started coming up with downright psychotic alternatives to convince you, such as your studio burning down after a vicious attack of some unknown hooligans. So it was rather wise of you not to push someone that knows the law like the back of his hand, even if you aren’t aware of it yet. He enthusiastically guides you around your new forever home, omitting unimportant details. The spare office he emptied for a future nursery? You’ll get to that later.
He can’t wait to spoil you. See, that’s the advantage of dating an older man. He’s gotten his life sorted out a long time ago. All that was left was finding you. You just need to be a darling and behave. He knows you will. After all, you’re his talented little embroideress that won’t have to worry about anything else ever again.
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emp-blast · 1 year
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thinking about chamber and deadeye dynamics,,,,
#just... they obviously need eachother in order to achieve their goals (whatever those might be)#the problem arises when they can't agree on the execution#in my head deadeye is the more bold one. and he doesn't hesitate in using force to get what he wants#whereas chamber is more of a negotiator#don't get me wrong. chamber is just as capable as deadeye when it comes to physical combat#but chamber doesn't like escalating situations#however. this doesn't stop him from doing what needs to be done#it's just his preference to not do that.#the thing with chamber is that i don't think he has bad intentions at all. quite the oppposite actually#i think deadeye somehow managed to talk him into doing things like destroying fracture#once chamber has his eye on something he will get it. that's just his nature#but i think overtime chamber gets more doubtful about what he's doing#and he starts to get more hesistant in helping deadeye#until chamber eventually starts to question his own morals. throw in a lil identity crisis for funsies too#he starts to get very numb and detached from the world around him#i feel like that would be his last ditch effort to actually pull through with the agreement he made with his double#on the other hand deadeye has good intentions as well but it's almost negated by how much harm he does#it stems from the fact the he actually just... cares a lot#in his head what he's doing will help the future. and so he's willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that#even if it means causing harm now. to him it all pays off in the end#hmmm... what if he had a god complex. just for funsies.#anyways. because of how much effort he puts into everything and the sacrifices he's made#he feels betrayed when chamber ultimately wants out#it's not like he didn't see it coming. but deadeye still did have hope that chamber would stick with him until the end#when deadeye feels the tension growing between them that's when he starts to become almost possessive of chamber#he mostly does this by 'testing' chamber's priorities.#and yeah they eventually have a falling out and that just fuels deadeye even more#okay I would write more but I'm tired. bye now
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metalomagnetic · 2 months
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Canon Sirius 'we've all got light and dark inside us' Black:
"Both very bright, of course- exceptionally bright, in fact." (McGonagall speaking of Sirius and James.)
"Your father and Sirius were the cleverest students in the school.” (Remus talking to Harry.)"
“I’ll be surprised if I don’t get an Outstanding on it at least. (Sirius speaking about his DADA OWL.)
"I don’t need to look at that rubbish, I know it all.” (Sirius speaking about his Transfiguration OWL.)
"An extraordinary achievement." (Dumbledore speaking about Sirius and the other becoming Animagi.)
"Black was a tall, full-grown man." (Prisoner of Azkaban)
“He (Sirius) was rather taller than Snape.” (Order of the Phoenix)
"To Sirius’s right stood Pettigrew, more than a head shorter." -"Sirius was tall and handsome." (Deathly Hallows)
Fanon Sirius: "Mooooony, I broke a nail and I am depressed! Lift me up so I can reach the bed, because I'm too short to reach it myself! I am generally helpless. Oh, what's that thing on the desk, with the leather cover and- is that writing on it? Is that a *book*? Take it away from me, I'm allergic to books!"
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earthtooz · 4 months
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cw: arranged marriage, fluff, neglect at the beginning, ratio falling hard, pining, ratio being jealous of aventurine, unedited bc i wrote this with my heart not my brain
my brain has been thinking about an arranged marriage fic with dr. ratio...
he isn't kind to you at first, less than happy to share a life with a mere acquaintance. he's heard about you before in passing, noting your achievements with a grain of salt because nothing about you particularly mattered to him, irrelevant against the mass of scrolls and books he needs to read.
you don't really disturb his normal routine too much. you move in to his estate with a fair share of your belongings, but none of them crowd his house too much. you have your own room, pristine guest room unearthed by your artistic touch.
aside from dinners, you don't get to see each other too much. he starts his mornings early, getting up at the crack of dawn to exercise and start his day with a hearty meal. you wake up later, partaking in a slow morning, and if you glanced out the window, you might be able to see your husband running laps around the expanse of his gardens.
you admire his dedication and routine, it's fascinating to live beside a genius. everyday, the chest table that sits in the living room changes, the black and white pieces never remaining where you last recalled. the size of his blackboard is impressive, and yet too small to fit all of the formulas his brain remembers, hands effortlessly dancing along the surface to scratch number after number.
a frequent order of his estate is chalk. a new pile is delivered every three days, and he goes through them without fail every time.
during dinner, he tries to spare some conversation with you. you don't tell him too much about your day, not wanting to bore him with your menial chores. he's only half-listening either way, so you'll feign understanding about his work when he explains what he's up to.
ratio is not an attentive husband, but he doesn't mistreat you, either. he allows you to spend his assets without too much care, doesn't police your everyday tasks, and also doesn't bat an eye at other men or women. his pursuit of intelligence is important, and your wellbeing would not come in between that.
your monotonous, distant routine changes one autumn dusk. you're perched in the front yard with an easel set up before you, the sky in front of you now a blend of pink-purple hues. he returns home earlier than you expected, carriage stopping at the front of his estate, and he witnesses you in your tranquil state.
the paint strokes on the canvas before you are skilled, and show years of dedication to the craft. you're so invested in the piece before you, that you don't even hear him approaching until he calls your name.
"the night turns colder with each minute. shouldn't you come inside before you fall ill?" the scholar greets, and you're snapped out of your creative reverie, looking over at him.
"oh, i had not realised. let me clean up here, first." you take your canvas off the easel, but to your surprise, your spouse kneels down to organise your oil paints back into their box.
"make haste, then," he urges.
during dinner, he can't help but be curious over your hobby, the stubborn splotches of paint clinging to your hands visible to him. that night, you engage in uninterrupted conversation, and discover that he's an artist himself- a sculptor. it calms him, and all the statues reside in a removed room, adjacent to his study.
despite your years of matrimony, you had never once dared enter his study, but the design is so fittingly him. it is organised (well, as organised a genius can be), with shelves and shelves filled with books, discarded scrolls lay around the room, but even then, his taste for greco-roman aesthetics are seen. roman dorics act like stands for little plants, and his many certificates are displayed, along with other achievements.
(his study is overwhelmingly filled with them. though you knew of the merit of the man you were arranged to be married to, you had never known just how expansive the list is. perhaps, that only made him more intimidating to you, standing beside a genius does not feel so light to say anymore.)
he shows you his sculptures, and though many of them are... self portraits... the likeness is disgustingly accurate. it was as if he had casted himself in plaster and displayed it proudly. you wonder how long he must have stared in the mirror to perfect their appearance.
but, there are also various other formidable statues. some of people you recognise. you compliment his skill and don't get to see the blush that spreads along his cheeks.
it seems that you've chipped a way into his heart, because between brushstrokes and chiselled marble, he falls in love with you.
ratio knows he didn't start off being the best husband, but he tries to now, and begins by being present. asks you to dine together where possible, listens when you're talking about your day, and the two of you can be seen venturing downtown together; an unbelievable sight for those who believed that ratio was romantically inept.
perhaps, an even more unbelievable sight, was the soft smile on his face that glanced at you very adoringly, and how you remained unaware of his affections.
and, maybe a jealous veritas ratio is just as unbelievable.
he is practically glaring daggers at the side of a certain blond's head. ratio has never been fond of the scheming businessman, aventurine, and is even less so of the fact that you seem so close to him, more than you are with your own husband. you're speaking with him like how one would with old friends, a peaceful visit to the markets turned sour by his presence.
when you finally, finally, finally, bid farewell to aventurine, who gave ratio a look that signified he was up to no good, your husband held your hand in his gloved one with an unforgiving grip. his mood is dampened for the remainder of the day, and is only made better when you enquire about his sudden glumness, visiting his office to see if he was alright.
you leave him with a kiss on the crown of his head, and a whisper of 'goodnight', before retreating to your chambers, and the only thought that circulates in his head for the rest of the night is you, and how he's going to sweep you off your feet.
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gallusrostromegalus · 2 years
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Herschel Has Discovered Tool Use. Again.
In january of 2021, deep in the throes of pandemic psychosis, we acquired a Corgi Puppy.
I would like to go on the record that we did not get a Corgi because they're cute. We got a Corgi because they're criminally brilliant and enthusiastic working dogs that were bred to bully cattle, which is the exact temperment a dog living in a house with three ADHD adults should have. Herschel does commit a lot of crime, but he also does his appinted service-dog job of "make everyone wake up, eat meals and go to bed at a reasonable and consistent time" extremely well, as well as his bonus jobs of "Keep the squirrels the hell out of the garden" and "Yell every time the cat does something". I didn't actually ask him to do that last job but it has helped in the "teach the cat to stay the hell off the stove" area.
But even with having a whole pack of humans another dog, and a cat to manage, this pales in comparison to his genetic capacity to manage several hundred sheep or cattle across the fields of Wales, and thus, Herschel has decided on further intellectual pursuits to occupy himself, namely, speedrunning the early phases of human tool use and terraforming.
I realized he has the brains of an entire hunter-gatherer tribe shortly after he got fixed, and within 24 hours and still dpey from anesthesia, he'd figured out that his plastic cone could be used to monopolize the water bowl and his favorite chew toys, and within a week, had learned how to carry three toys at once while leaving his mouth open by tucking the toys behind his enormous ears and under his chin. He also figured out that he could wiggle the cone to rest against his shoulders, and started using it as a shovel by literally running the bottom edge into the ground. But that wasn't making holes effeicently enough, apparently, and I ended up watching him figure out how to rotate the cone around so the two pieces of overlapping plastic were under his chin, then use his chin and the stairs to the deck to pinch both ends into a much more efficient V-Shape that let him gouge huge strips of dirt up in seconds. The anthropologists and animal behaviorists in the audience may recognize this as Tool Creation, a behavior normally only seen in higher primates, crows, and some parrots. Once a hole of suitable length, depth and temperature had been achieved, he very carefully rolled the cone around so the digging side was over his head and the smooth side under his chin, and splooted into his hole to cool his little tummy and stitches off. It was at that point that I realized that I was going to have to teach him how to garden, or he was going to teach himself.
He no longer has the cone (He was beginning to experiment with it as a battering ram), but his morning ritual is now "Wake everyone up at 8AM by screaming, locate everyone in house and jam my nose up theirs to make sure they're alive, go outside and scream at the squirrels. Now that Yard is Secure, go get Fun Parent who has hopefully taken their meds by now, and supervise them while they rifle through the plants (this is apparently KEY to their mental health), eating any pest animals Fun Parent points out, chase squirrel AGAIN, go inside and get Breakfast cookie." and BY GOD if we deviate from it there will be much screaming and destruction. If I am not home, it has been reported that he walks round the garden beds and sniffs the plants in the order I usually check them in before he will agree to come in. He doesn't quite know what the deal with the melons is, just that they need to be checked.
But we're out of the labor-intensive parts of gardening and now into Harvesting Season, and this is a bit boring except when I give him snap peas right off the vine, and he has decided to work on the complex physics problem that is Doorknobs.
And last week, he had a breakthrough.
Sometime in 2020, my mom sort-of taught her horrible crime herding dog Arwen how to open the back door so she could let herself out as she pleased during the day and stop interrupting Mom's Zoom calls. Arwen is a Kelpie, which means she's about 60lbs with full-length legs and horrible monkey paws that are one joint away from being hands, so when Arwen wants to open the back door, she sits up, leans on the door for purchase/to push it, and uses her terrible crime hands to *push* on the knob until it turns. She can pull the knob open by pawing and catching it on her toes, but she's 11-13 years old now and has mild arthritis, so she prefers to catch it on her central pad instead. She taught Charlie, the other equally brilliant but less criminally inclined dog, to do this but he doesn't like to go outside alone, so he rarely does this.
Herschel, ever the observant student, immediately tried copying them, but even though he is actually tall enough to reach the knob, his toes are just too stubby to get a decent grip on the knob, pushing or pulling, and the first few times, gave up and sat down to scream until one of the fullsize dogs or humans came to open the door for him.
Last week, we were up at my parent's again, and I watched him hunt around the living room until he found his slightly-sticky orange rubber ball (It's clean, it's just a kind of rubber that's always a bit tacky), carry it across the house, stand up on his hind legs at the back door, put the rubber ball on top of the gap between the knob and the wall, and then push down on the ball, which caught the doorknob and turned it for him, thus opening the door. He let himself out, had a merry time yelling at the squirrels, came back in, stopped a few feet inside the door, went back out, grabbed his ball, and brought it back into his kennel, a place he can leave toys if he doesn't want the other dogs playing with them.
This means he somehow worked out how doorknobs work, how fucking levers work, and that his orange rubber ball specifically was the one that would work (none of his other toys are the correct size/texture), that he'd need that ball specifically to open the door again, and yesterday he did the same trick with the bedroom door, so he knows that the rubber ball/skeleton key can be used on all doorknobs, not just that one.
I wonder if I can teach him to sweep.
___
If you want to fund Herschel's research into Tool Use and/or get me therapy for the ensuing chaos, please feel free to donate to my Ko-Fi, or get further Dog Content by subscribing to my Patreon.
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bunny-yan · 2 months
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so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?
He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting.  TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI
You’d gotten your hopes up. 
It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage,  you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king. 
He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king. 
Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.
Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it. 
The king’s marriage. 
When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.
The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.
You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.
But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like. 
Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face. 
You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom. 
“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had. 
He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”
You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour. 
He said nothing. 
You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap. 
This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof. 
“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like. 
“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”
The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter. 
Hopefully, he didn’t take offense. 
You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these. 
“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession. 
You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass. 
You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.
Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry. 
It was little things at first. 
Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you. 
He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right? 
Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you. 
“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you. 
You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were. 
Hope. 
A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then. 
If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain. 
Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak. 
“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”
His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water. 
You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements. 
“How arrogant,” you said simply. 
He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could. 
“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”
You wanted to laugh. 
Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly. 
It was hard to hear coming from the culprit. 
“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”
Dread pinched your stomach. 
“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”
No.
No, no, no, no, no. 
Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out. 
“Your Highness-”
“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”
You felt nauseous. 
“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.” 
This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were. 
“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”
“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment. 
Not that he really cared in the first place. 
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transmutationisms · 3 months
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Until the revolution that would be our relief comes, we must “do the work” to get better ourselves. “Have you tried talking to someone?” people ask, when I mention my various issues. Are you that somebody? No: they mean that, in addition to the natural sleep aids, the regular exercise, the healthy diet, the cultivation of hobbies, the having of friends, the practicing of meditation, and the occasional massage, I should go to therapy. I have tried talking to someone; it’s fine. The responses I get when I utter the magic words “my therapist” are more thought-provoking than any of the personal revelations I’ve uncovered with him so far, though the idea is that you need to do it for years for the benefits to accrue. “I’m proud of you,” friends say. As if it is so difficult to think seriously about myself for hours a day—as if that weren’t what I was doing with my anxiety anyway. These friends will talk about my problems with me endlessly, as long as I am “in therapy.” If I am not, or if I express my doubts about the possibility of transcending the workings of my own mind by paying someone to guide me through the process, the response is unanimous: I must find a new therapist, someone who is “right” for me. They wonder, gently, gently: Is it possible that I, so high-achieving, am unconsciously telling the therapist what I think he wants to hear—deceiving him by being adequately emotional, apparently reflective, in order to give true self-knowledge the slip? Should I not find someone meaner, nicer, female, more intellectual, less intellectual, someone who will not fall for my tricks?
Is what's wrong with me what's wrong with everyone else?
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l13 · 11 months
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currently OBSESSED with your blog. Everything you post is FIRE. HEAR ME OUT, ok, imagine being like hella subby/timid and Miguel LOVES it but is also trying to help you use your voice, say what you want, GET YOU TO TAKE CHARGE A LIL and your all shy and cute and it just makes him want to fuck you THAT MUCH HARDER
nsfw mdni!
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you're absolutely right anon, he'd love it and he'd also tease you RELENTLESSLY about it- taking advantage of the fact that you wouldn't speak up, so desperately trying to help you achieve the opposite- to be open with him and not feel the need to hide anything from him,
he'd always say shit like "R'you tired, baby? Already?" as if this wasn't the third time he was fucking you, and you'd just mewl in reply, turning your head to bury your face deeper in your pillow
one night you end up with your back against the mattress, moaning and whimpering at the way Miguel eats you out like a starved man- groaning into your pussy as he licks everything you have to offer, lapping quickly at your folds.
you can feel you're close as you arch your back, unconsciously moving further away from him- and he grabs your thighs to pull you closer, clicking his tongue, "Oh baby.. Can't handle what I give you?"
you huff, "I can." and he just chuckles, his chin glistening, "Really."
"Then tell me what you want- I'll stop if you don't." he's thrown that one phrase in a LOT, always 'threatening' to stop making you feel good in order for you to speak up more- but you'd never budged and he in turn wouldn't stop either, because he couldn't. This time, though, he actually keeps his promise when you don't reply to him, and you're baffled as you watch him walk out of the room, leaving you panting on the bed.
you were so close to cumming, and he just left you there. You get up quickly to follow him out the room, rolling your eyes when you see him casually sitting on the couch, legs spread and all, and you come to stand right in front of him, blocking his view of the tv. His eyes betray him as always, and you try not to squirm at the way he stares at your body, licking his lips as he eyes you up and down,
"Something you need, querida?"
you've never actually asked Miguel for anything- only replying with small 'yes's whenever he'd ask you if you wanted more- if you wanted him to do this or that.
"I want your mouth on my pussy," you ignore the way your voice trembles as you talk, stubbornly standing your ground. Miguel grins, tongue running over his fangs before he scoots over, "Lay back,"
"No."
"No?"
"You lay back. I wanna sit on your face." the way his eyebrows shoot up is almost comical, but then he's groaning, grabbing your thighs and pulling you towards him, and you gasp as you situate yourself in his lap clumsily. He kisses you hard- tongue rolling over your own, as you begin to grind your hips on him, loving the way his boxers feel against your bare pussy.
You run your hand up to rub at his pecs before you're pushing him down, and he chuckles breathlessly as he falls back, "Kitty finally got claws, huh?"
For some reason that pisses you off even more because you murmur, "Shut up," then you're suddenly climbing over his chest, hovering right above his mouth, and he can't keep his eyes off your pretty pussy- practically drooling at the sight,
after that it's like everything's changed- seeing miguel beg, hearing him whine for your pussy like you always do for his cock, changed how you viewed sex in general- and now you're the one asking to go for a second- third round, and he's the one laying down on the bed, sweat running down his temple as he pants hard, "Just give me a second baby, shit-" but you don't listen to him- too cockdrunk to do so- so you just straddle him again, taking his cock in your hands, loving the way he jumps from how overstimulated he is,
He grunts from underneath you, his hands squeezing your hips as he throws his head back in exasperation when you slip his cock back inside you, "h my Godddd, this pussy's too tight- I can't-"
and you pout at him, "What's the matter, baby? Can't handle what I give you?" and right at that moment, Miguel thinks he's created a monster
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think this got way off topic, no? so sorry if it did
also thank you so much for your kind words 🥹 <3333
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