#goodbye dear friend. i can never communicate with you again

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

.

#okay like ten minutes ago i made a post about how anxiety is making my oife difficult #because i wanted to text a friend but i was too scared to #i just wanted to update you all and say that i texted the friend!! #i texted them a silly little meme that reminded me of them #literally our first 1 on 1 communication and its a meme and a message that just says 'you' #fuck should i have had my first text to them be better?? #i need to start taking my anxiety meds again #... #anywho #I'm gonna go panic and overthink now #fuck they opened the message #and are currently typing #fuck they responded #welp time to never text them ever again #goodbye dear friend. i can never communicate with you again #because theres a goblin running my brain #no it's fine i opened the message #it's fine it's all fine #i need to go to bed

[houseofanticipation]

You wake because a shifting balance of weight on your bed has caused your mattress to shake. For a moment you think it must be Christmas morning—that'll be your little brother, jumping on your bed to wake you up—but your room is still dark, and the clock on your bedside table reads 12:00 exactly. You squint at the person sitting on your bed. Definitely too old to be your brother...maybe your dad? But no, this person's frame is too wide, too bulky. The figure leans forward, and it suddenly occurs to you to be afraid, but all he does is pull the chain on your bedside lamp.

The man in your room is Santa Claus.

It doesn't occur to you to think this is a man dressed as Santa. One of your classmates might; you know most people your age don't believe in him, and you've learned to hide your own belief, lest you embarrass yourself, but you've never stopped believing privately. You know this man is Santa Claus in the same way you've always known Santa Claus was real: it's a feeling in your heart, a knowledge that you are loved, no matter what. You get that same feeling from this man.

"Santa?"

"Little Susie Summers," he says, brushing a lock of hair away from your eyes. "It's so wonderful to finally see you in person. You know you're one of my favorites?"

Your eyes widen. "Really?"

He nods. "I mean it. You've kept me in your heart all these years, long after most children abandon me. I've so loved watching you grow into this beautiful, confident woman I see before me." His voice deep and warm and smooth, like hot chocolate. His eyes glitter behind half-moon glasses, and his enormous white mustache only accentuates his fatherly smile.

"I always knew you were real," you say, breathlessly, eager to impress. "Even when everyone called me names, I kept believing. I always stayed on my best behavior for you."

"I know you did," he says. "I have your list right here." Seemingly from nowhere, he produces a length of rolled up parchment, which he begins to unfurl as he reads. "All those times you helped young Cristopher with his homework, even when you wanted to go out with your friends...the way you check in on old Mrs. Rasherton every week...you're a real paragon of your community."

Your chest swells with pride. You'd do those things anyway, of course; goodness is its own reward. But it feels so wonderful to have your good deeds recognized by this man you so idolize.

"Of course, you've had some encounters with the naughty list, too. What child doesn't? That time at camp, for instance, when you allowed Trent Lipski to touch you under your underwear?"

You can feel your cheeks flushing. "I'm sorry, Santa. I tried to be extra good to make up for it."

"Or those times in the bathtub, when you put your private parts under the faucet?"

You look away. You can't stand the disappointment in his eyes. "I'm so sorry Santa."

You feel his hand on your cheek, gently pulling your gaze back to meet his. "Don't worry, Susie. No one can be perfectly good all the time, and your good deeds have vastly outweighed the bad. You are a good girl, Susie Summers, and that's why I'm here."

"Really?"

"Yes, my dear girl. You see, you're eighteen now and—"

"Almost eighteen," you say helpfully. Your birthday is January 7th.

"Close enough," he says. "You're growing into a woman, which means this is the last year I'll be able to bring you presents."

This comes as a surprise. You always known Santa Claus brought presents to children, but it never quite occurred to you that that meant he didn't bring presents to adults. "You mean...you'll never come here for me again?"

"I'm afraid so," he says sadly. "This will have to be goodbye. But because you've been such a good girl all these years, I've brought you one final parting gift, in addition to the ones below the tree downstairs."

"Really? What is it?"

His hand is on your thigh, caressing you gently. "You've been so good for me, Susie," he says. "I want to make you feel good. I want you to be extra good for me, one last time." His other hand is on your stomach now, furry white glove slipping under your sleep shirt. You're starting to be unsure if you want this gift, but you know it's rude to act ungrateful. "Can you be good for me, Susie?"

You nod nervously.

Slowly, one finger at a time, Santa slips the gloves off his hands. The skin underneath is like aged leather, wrinkly and soft. You gasp when he lifts up your shirt. "Look at this," he says, fondling your nipples. "Already so hard. I knew you had a naughty side to you."

No. You can't. You push his hands away, gently as you can. "I'm sorry Santa, I'm flattered, really, but I can't—"

Santa makes a clicking sound with his tongue, and all of a sudden your hands are being yanked back, toward the headboard. Some kind of cuffs clamp around your wrists, holding your arms far away from Santa's creeping, explorative hands. You look to your left and right, and see that they're not cuffs at all, but arms; thin, sinewy arms attached to a pair of thin, sinewy people no bigger than your forearm. They stare at you with large, unblinking eyes, and grin with mouths full of pointy teeth. They're strong, in spite of their size. You struggle against them with all your might, but neither seems remotely phased.

"You're a lucky girl, Susie," he says, playfully circling your areola with his thumb. "Most boys and girls never get to see a genuine Christmas elf. Meet Pepper and Ginger, two of my most trusted lieutenants. I could never do my job without their help."

The elf called Ginger—you can tell which is which because they wear name tags reading G. BREAD and P. MINT—pins your hand to the bed and sits on your wrist. She closes her eyes and begins grinding against the nub of your wrist bone.

Santa chuckles. "Of course, I make sure they get to enjoy themselves. I think that's the hallmark of any good boss, don't you?" He bends down and wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking and nibbling and groping at your other breast while he does it. You're afraid, but it feels kind of good, too. And you know Santa has your best interests at heart...doesn't he? When he comes up for air, Santa sees the tears running down your cheeks. "Oh, hush now, my dear, don't cry." He lays a tender hand on your face, wiping away a tear with his thumb. "I promise I'll be gentle with you. I'll make you feel good." He gets up on his knees and unbuckles his belt, pulling down his red pants to reveal white thermal underwear. This he unbuttons, and out comes...

You've seen a penis once before. Earlier this year, Daryl Dennis let you touch his at a party. You held it in your hand and stroked it up and down, delighting in the way he moaned and kissed you and told you how good it felt. When he came on your hand it snapped you out of whatever madness had taken you over, and you fled the room to wash it off. You hated yourself for weeks after that, tried to work extra hard to earn your place on the good list.

Suffice it to say, Santa's cock is about three times the size as the only other cock you've ever seen. It stands up so stiff that it actually touches his overhanging belly, and defined veins pulse up and down its length. He smiles when he sees you looking at it. "You came so close to letting Mr. Dennis be the first cock you ever felt inside you. I wish you could stay pure forever, but you're becoming a woman now. You should at least know what a real cock is like, so you have something to compare against."

He hooks his fingers under your waistband and pulls off your pajama bottoms and you panties all in one go. You're too afraid to fight back; those elves' teeth are sharp, and besides, you've spent so long trying to stay off the naughty list. A good girl would lie back and take it. You are a good girl. You are a good girl.

Santa's head is between your legs now. He's kissing your thighs, sniffing deeply, running his tongue along the outside edges of your crotch. One hand strokes his cock, and you can see he speeds up when his nose gets close to your pussy. "You know, Susie, I've found in all my years of life that the sweetest girls have the sweetest cunts. Did you know that?"

You shake your head.

"It's true. And you just might be the sweetest girl I've ever seen. So you can imagine how eager I've been to get a taste of this perfect, beautiful cunt. Let's get your juices flowing, shall we?" You gasp as his leathery fingers pinch the hood of your clitoris and pull it back, and a sound you didn't expect escapes your lips when his wet, warm tongue flicks across your exposed clit. He starts to trace slow, steady circles around it, taking his time, letting the desire build until your clit is throbbing with need. His moustache tickles your pubis as he closes his lips around your clit and begins sucking, first in long, slow pulls, and ramping up into quick, agonizing pulses. You begin to feel that feeling in your groin, the one you felt when you touched Daryl Dennis's cock, or when Trent Lipski put his hand in your pants, or when you hold your privates under the bathtub faucet. It's a tightness, a warmth, a wetness, and Santa must notice it too, because he smiles up at you. "Good girl. Let's find out what you taste like."

Suddenly his tongue is inside you, and you're moaning and arching your back and crying a little bit, because you're so scared but it feels so good. The elves grin and give you little kisses on your arms. Somewhere along the way Ginger has removed her pants, and she moans as her little elf pussy glides across your wrist. On the other side, Pepper's hands are on your pinky, lining it up with her exposed cunt, drooling as she pushes it inside.

When Santa comes up for air his glasses hang crooked on his face. "Hoooh, Susie, you must have the sweetest cunt I've ever tasted. Like caramel apples and candy canes. You really are one of the nicest girls who's ever lived."

You can't help but swell with pride at this praise. You've tried, really tried, and to know that it's paid off...it makes everything worth it. All the work, all the self-sacrifice, it wasn't for nothing. It's left a real, detectable mark on your body, and Santa can taste it in you. "Thank you, Santa," you manage to say.

"You're very welcome, Susie," says Santa. "And now that you're ready for me, I think it's time I made use of you." He straightens up, and flops his cock down on your stomach. It feels even bigger against your skin. You're afraid again. You know what's about to happen, and you're afraid it's going to hurt.

He throws his head back and moans with pleasure as the head of his cock parts your pussy lips. Your teeth grit and your heart pounds as you brace yourself for the pain, but it doesn't come. When he begins to push inside you, it's like he's stretching you out from the inside. There's no pain, only pressure, and increasingly, pleasure. He fills you up an inch at a time, expanding inside you, making you feel full in a way you never knew you could. You never should have doubted Santa. He knows what's best for you. He knows what you need.

"Ooohoho god, Susie," he says, picking up the pace now. "I knew you'd be worth it. I always know which good little girls will have the most delectable cunts. Girls like you, natural whores who make the choice to be nice, deny their nature to be sweet just for me...saving yourself for me...you know, somewhere deep down, that your little cunt is mine for the taking..."

He's right. He's completely right. When you fled the room after Daryl Dennis came in your hand. When you felt so guilty after Trent Lipski. What were you saying, implicitly? My holes are not for him. My holes are for Santa. You're moaning indiscriminately now, arching your back, your eyes rolling back in your head. The elves seem to be enjoying themselves, too; they moan squeakily as they ride your hands, apparently no longer worried about you trying to fight back. Santa's belly rolls across you with each thrust, and the heft of it is like a weighted blanket, comfortingly immobilizing. He grunts and moans with each thrust, the ball on his hat bouncing haphazardly. You feel something growing inside you, something wonderful and intense, something far better than the faucet on your clit, or Trent Lipski's fingers in your cunt. Your body is beginning to tremble, your legs bending and your toes flexing involuntarily. Suddenly you're afraid again; the sensation is too much, you can't handle it, you need to get away. Some animal part of your brain takes over; you're wrenching your hands free of the distracted elves, pulling yourself away from Santa's relentless cock, flailing your legs, kicking Santa in the solar plexus as he tries to grab at you. He doubles over, wheezing, and you know instantly you've done something terrible.

For a long moment the room is stock still. The elves seem just as frozen in fear as you are. Santa coughs, steadies himself against the bed. When he looks up, there's a darkness behind his eyes that wasn't there before. He clicks his tongue again, and the elves spring into action, grabbing you by the hair and turning you around so that your head hangs backward over the edge of the bed.

"I was going to give you a special present," says Santa, upside-down over you. There's a sick mirth in his voice that makes you shiver. "A Christmas present like no one's ever gotten before. But you had to go and be naughty." He says the word like it's the most vulgar epithet he can think of. "I was going to give you a son. My son. My heir. But my seed can't grow in a womb despoiled by filth." You feel a pressure inside you; it feels sort of like Santa's cock did, only harder, rounder, and growing. You lift your head to see what's going on down there, but it's all internal. It's getting painful now; you start straining to push it out. "The only thing your cunt is good for now," says Santa, a merciless twinkle in his eye, "is coal."

With a painful stretching sensation, a black mass crowns out of your cunt, spreading your pussy lips and stretching them wide as it pops out of you. It's a smooth, roughly spherical lump of coal, about the size of a baseball.

A leathery hand cups your chin and pushes your head back down. Santa's cock is inches from your face. "You're not going cocktease me, naughty girl. I'll get mine, one way or another."

Tears well up in your eyes as his cock parts your lips. You've never gotten coal in your stocking before, not once. You've spent your entire life being the nicest you could possibly be, and you had to go and ruin everything. You imagine what it would have been like to have Santa's seed growing inside you, your belly swelling with his son, your breasts inflating with peppermint-flavored milk. Instead you have his wrinkly, low-hanging scrotum slapping your face, and another lump of coal already forming inside your stupid, naughty cunt.

Santa forces his cock past your tongue, down your open throat. You gag, convulse involuntarily, but the elves hold you down, not to be caught slacking again. His belly drags across your face as he pulls back, and you spend a few seconds coughing and sputtering before he forces himself back down your throat again. Again, you gag, and when he pulls out this time you spit out a globule of thick saliva that collects around your nose and runs down your cheek. It goes like this for several more pumps: you gagging, struggling, crying, and him continuing to rape your throat anyway.

No, you think. Enough crying. You did something naughty, and now you pay for it. What do you always do when you catch yourself slipping into naughtiness? You're extra good to make up for it.

You steady yourself. Relax your throat. Santa is your king. Your god. Your everything. Your whole life, everything you do has been to please Santa. Now is no different. You start licking his shaft as it pounds away at your mouth. You can't see his face past his belly, but you can tell he likes it: the veins on his cock bulge under your tongue, and he groans with pleasure. Slowly, making sure the elves know you're not trying to fight, you lift your arms and grab the backs of his thighs, pulling him into you with each thrust. He takes the encouragement, picking up speed and enthusiasm. With one hand you begin to tenderly massage his balls, and with the other you stroke the base of his cock, the part that can't fit all the way down your throat. This is right. This is correct. My holes are for Santa, you think again. It's not for you to choose how he uses them.

You pop out another two lumps of coal, though you find that if you don't let them get too big it can be a somewhat pleasurable experience. You wonder how many nice things you'll have to do to stop them coming. You hope it isn't too easy. You moan as another one presses against your clit on its way out of you. You're desperate to rub yourself, but you can't take any attention away from Santa's beautiful, enormous, swollen, throbbing cock. That is your purpose.

With a long, shuddering groan, Santa presses his cock as deep as it will go. You feel hot cum shooting down your throat, collecting in your esophagus. He holds you there for a long time, your face in his overhanging belly, coal growing in your cunt. When he finally retreats you cough a huge glob of cum into your mouth. It tastes like cinnamon and nutmeg.

"Oh, little Susie," says Santa admiringly. "Even when you're being punished, you try your best to be nice." He sits next to you on the bed and begins gently massaging your throat. "It isn't enough to put you back on the nice list, but it's a start." He seems to think long and hard about something. "I'm a believer in second chances, Susie. I'll have to come back to this house next year for your brother anyway. Maybe I'll check in on you, and if you've been extra good..." he shoots you a twinkling wink. "I just might give you your special present after all."

Your head falls back in relief. You haven't squandered your chance! Santa is a merciful and loving god! The elves lay their heads on your breasts, petting your skin and cooing approvingly. The next thing you know, Santa is pulling up his pants, tucking in his undershirt, buckling his belt. He puts his hand on the knob of your bedroom door, but he turns back over his shoulder before he goes.

"Susie...you were right. Your holes are mine. No other cock, nor finger or tongue or any part of another person may penetrate them. But now that you're a woman...I believe it would be alright if you touched yourself, if you like. And know that I'll be watching." With that he's out the door, Pepper and Ginger in tow.

You get into a comfortable position in bed, head on your pillows, legs spread. You're slowly amassing a small pile of coal on your bedspread, and you're ready to go for another. You let this one grow a little while inside you, expanding until you can't take it anymore, then arch your back and close your eyes and furiously rub your clit as you birth it.

As a ball of coal the size of a small cantaloupe rolls to a stop on your sheets, your bedside clock clicks over to 12:01.

#r@pe fantasy #r@pe kink #cnc free use #cvmdump #cvmslvt #r@petoy #breeding toy #have you ever written a line that made you say 'jesus christ what is wrong with me' #anyway happy holidays to all you lovely filthy people out there

[donat-senpai]

Can you please do a platonic Yandere Adrien, Luca with a reader who wants to be in a relationship not with them but like in general, what would they do if they tried to ruin her relationship when she got one and she found out🙏

Please don't read this if you are uncomfortable with the yandere!

Pairing: Yandere! Adrien x Reader, Yandere! Luka x Reader

tw: platonic obsession, deception, manipulation

Thanks for waiting! I continue to work on fulfilling requests. BUT I have to inform you that I will no longer accept new requests for ladybug. I don't feel inspired by this fandom anymore.

ADRIEN

-The day you confessed your love was the worst day of Adrien's life.

-Your best friend, your closest person, almost a family member suddenly ceased to be important to you.

-You started canceling appointments with Adrien to go on dates with your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Adrien was so disappointed and angry. But not on you. You will never be to blame. This terrible man has entangled you in order to ruin everything.

-The first thing Adrien wanted to do was use Cataclysm on your boyfriend/girlfriend. It would be easier that way. Faster. But he didn't want to scare you.

-Adrien needed to be cunning.

-He stole tests from the principal's office and planted them in your boyfriend/girlfriend's bag.

-Your school is prestigious. Such an act will not be forgiven.

-The news of the expulsion of this parasite (as Adrien mentally called this person) made you cry. Adrien was very sorry, but he had to do it.

-A little later, you found one of the tests in Adrien's bag when you wanted to get his notes. It fell out and went unnoticed. Until this moment.

-He realized what happened when he saw the disbelief on your face and the damn test in your hand.

-You asked him accusingly what that meant. Adrien ran through ideas in his head in a panic. Classmates came to the noise

-And he came up with…

-They (the pest) must have planted it. They were jealous and wanted to frame Adrien.

-His classmates quickly supported him. (He always knew that his good reputation would come in handy someday)

-How can kind, dear Adrien be capable of such meanness?

-Your mistrust hurt Adrien. How could you doubt your best friend? That person is a bad influence on you. Perhaps you shouldn't date them anymore.

-You felt ashamed

-It’s hard to leave, but your friend is there. He will help you write a goodbye message for them. He'll even send it for you.

-Adrien will free you.

-Your friendship will be safe again.

LUKA

-Three days. For a whole three days, Luka waited and hoped that you pranked him.

-Hope disappeared when you introduced Luka to your boyfriend/girlfriend.

-Luka still didn't understand how this happened. He was always there.

-Your happy face brought joy to Luka endlessly. He allowed this relationship to exist.

-He was ready to endure and listen to conversations about this person as long as it brought you pleasure.

-But the days passed, and you smiled less and less.

-Of course, your new boyfried/girlfriend became the problem.

-Luka began to unobtrusively push you towards breaking up. Why do you need a relationship in which your partner only upsets you?

-The guy’s patience finally ran out when you came in tears and said that you saw Him/She hugging someone else.

-If Luka were not a restrained person, he would have akumatized to take revenge. But you needed comfort.

-For the next couple of days, Couffaine stubbornly thought about getting rid of the obstacle once and for all.

-Your ex gave him the idea himself.

-They persistently tried to contact you. You didn’t want to communicate with him/her and gave Luka your phone so that he could delete the messages. Luka used this against him/her.

-Luka convinced you to block your ex on all social media. And the letter from the mailbox explaining that he/she hugged his cousin was replaced with another one - with threats. It was not difficult to fake the handwriting following the example.

-Photos taken without your knowledge were thrown into your school locker.

-No one could ignore something like this. Your parents finally went to the police.

-Luka invited you to stay with him while the trial is ongoing. His family didn't mind, and yours decided that a change of scenery wouldn't hurt.

-The guy felt bad that he had to scare you. He mentally promised to compensate you for all the ruined days.

-Everything was going great until you found all these damn pieces of paper. Copies of your ex's fake letter. Dozens of unsuccessful attempts to forge handwriting.

-Why? Why did you open this box? Why did he forget to throw it away?

-Luka was terribly upset. But he knew what he had to do. He has to correct his mistake.

-He pushed you into the closet, snatching the letters from your hands, and locked the doors.

-Luka hastened to get rid of the evidence.

-He'll think of something. Without proof, no one will believe you. He will say that you had a fight with him and after everything that happened, you are simply confused.

-He will tell you over and over again that there were no letters until you both believe it.

-Luka did all this for you. You will understand this. He will always protect your friendship.

#yandere miraculous ladybug x reader #yandere miraculous ladybug #yandere x reader #adrien agreste x reader #yandere adrien agreste x reader #yandere chat noir #chat noir x reader #luka couffaine x reader #yandere luka couffaine x reader #yandere viperion

[starfxkr]

oh yes… tp!jj is finally suffering the way i want him to! thank you john b for this life changing opportunity. reader starting to look at him with resentment in her eyes… maybe in the way that she looks at her mom almost, which really solidifies how badly hes infiltrated her life nd doin her dirty with what seems to her with no remorse is just… ruining her. having her smell like john b unlocks that manic part of his brain he was able to lock away with age is very alarming nd kinda scary! because lets be honest, he could never actually grow out of that terrible side of his personality, nd to have john b, his closest friend, his confidant, nd the only one he can really call family, being the catalyst of this makes him feel backed up in a corner.

thank you to that anon for mentioning his control issues bc it rears its ugly head again— he gets horrible tunnel vision with her nd id like to imagine that he doesnt let her leave his side during those few days. the random splurge of possessiveness is just his insecurity nd inability to properly communicate his feelings to you, even at his big age lol. he needs to kick it into high gear nd fix this mess, bc upon realizing that apology fucks arent working but in fact strains their relationship even more? he loses his mind lol :3 our dear reader deserves to slap ts out of him at some point!

— 🦢

its what he deserves....because when john b's around and jj's nice you realize 'oh! he coulda always been this way but he chose not to' so its no fuckin wonder that not only do you prefer when john b is around you start to prefer being around him period.

you make no secret of it either and while jombee is smug about it first it doesn't take him long to pull jj to the side and tell him you're gonna go for good if jj doesn't get it together. because when its coming up on the day jombee has to leave you get depressed, you won't leave his side and you won't stop crying asking him to stay.

this in turn makes jj extremely anxious, and we all know his anxiety takes form as anger. it becomes why are you acting like this you know he has to go, and, so what you wanna be with him now? you're gonna fuckin leave me? when that's not at all what you said and now you're more upset because he's getting so fuckin aggressive about it. and jj has no problem basically locking the two of you in the room the day john b leaves, he might not even let you say goodbye because he's stripped the sheets and fucks loud and hard so john b can hear.

but the thing is? john b doesn't care. well of course he cares about you being upset and not being able to say bye because he's genuinely very fond of you and has grown to really care for you. but its jjs possessive behavior that doesnt move him, because when jj inevitably wears himself out, john b just comes around to the window and gives you a kiss good bye and little pep talk through there.

honestly jj's hit the self destructive "im gonna destroy all my relationships" stage by this point which he's aware of and it terrifies him because he only just got you back but it's like he's watching himself from another body and he cannot stop his actions.

#✨.txt #jj maybank prompt #trailer park!jj #jj x reader x john b prompt #🦢 anon

[meekahy]

Break Up

I am so sorry this is so short! I was thinking maybe a part 2 if y'all like it?

This is a request from @lma1986

Thank you dear for being so patient with me!

You and Noah had fought before you left work this morning. It wasn’t an easy fight to deal with. But neither of you apologized. It just felt like he hated you more than anything. Now, with you standing in the doorway, he sat playing some game. You could feel the tension as soon as you walked in the door. You knew what you had to do. 

“Can we talk?” you asked quietly, trying to find your voice.

Noah looked up to you for a split second before turning his attention back to his game. You huffed. 

“Noah,” you said louder this time. He looked at you again, this time, he paused his game. 

“What?” he grunted. You blinked at his tone. Clearly, he was still mad from this morning.

“What? What do you want?” Noah repeated with venom dripping from his words. You couldn’t tell if it was because you interrupted his game or if it was just because of you. You didn’t respond, losing your confidence, you just stared at him feeling small.

“Dammit, answer me!” he demanded.

“I want to break up,” you whispered.

“Speak up,” Noah replied bored.

You cleared your throat, gaining some strength, you said, “I want to break up.”

He stands up at your words and slowly stalks towards you. “Oh, do you now? Why?” he questioned.

You couldn’t pick just one thing. It’s been a few different things over the past few months.

“Because you’re a self-entitled jerk. You never make time for me. You’re always gone and when you’re home, you’re either with friends or playing a game. It’s like you don’t love me anymore and you’re sick of my presence. Noah, do you still love me?” your voice going quiet at the end.

He looked away from you for a split second before he looked down, “Do you want the truth?”

“Yes, talk to me,” you pleaded.

“I-I. You’re right, I don’t think I love you anymore. We’re drifting apart. I don’t think we want the same things anymore. It just feels like so much work to even talk to you,” he muttered quickly.

Your heart sank. You knew all this, but to hear it out loud was confirmation enough. He sighed. Noah didn’t want to hurt you, however, he learned from other relationships that communication is key. 

He looked down at his hands before opening his mouth to speak again. You quickly darted from the room before Noah could see you cry. He groaned before following you into the other room. 

“What are you doing?” he interrogated. You had begun emptying your dresser and a part of your closet into a suitcase. 

You didn’t look at him while you responded, “I’m packing.”

It was Noah’s turn for his heart to sink. It was happening. You were actually leaving.

“I’m going to my parent’s house,” you announced, “I’ll be back for the rest of my things this weekend. I don’t want you to be here when I pick up my things.”

He nodded while looking down at his feet. Noah opened his mouth to ask if you needed any help but changed his mind. You zipped your suitcase, grabbed your pillow and purse, and headed for the front door with Noah following closely.

You turned around slowly, your eyes meeting his. “Goodbye, Noah,” you hesitated while tucking your hair behind your ear.

“Goodbye,” Noah choked out. With that, you left, closing the door behind you.

Noah stared at the door for a while after you left. He felt numb. Could this really be the end?

#nick folio #bad omens #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fic #bad omens fanfic

[dantheserialkillerman]

Dan Hiroki X GN!Childhood Friend Reader Pt. 2

Contains: Continuing story and Gender Neutral Reader General warning: Long-post TW: Possessiveness/Suicide/Implied grooming

Once upon a time, there was a beautiful crow. Her wings were like the tips of quills freshly dipped, and her claws sharper than the hook of a fisherman's rod—a perfect little bird. Everywhere she went, the forest's creatures would glance at her in astonishment and envy; no owl, robin or dove could compare. The crow knew this and, for a time, enjoyed their praise. What was love, if not the wish to capture? The desire to own what you could not own yourself? Yet, as the days went by, she could not help but feel unsatisfied, for none would approach her, and, eventually, she found herself an idle idol. That was until, one fateful morning, a hunter entered the wood. The man searched far and wide for the perfect game but would deem all beasts crossing his path too dull, ordinary, and a waste of his talents. His frustrations grew until his eyes fell upon the beautiful crow. Having never seen such perfection, the man raised his gun and decided such magnificence could not exist without his consent. In that final breath, staring down the barrel of the rifle, the crow realized a terrible truth: She had finally experienced her first and last act of true love.

You would like to think you will meet again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. 

A memory:

Under the branches, as the rain fell, he leaned his head against your shoulders:  "Do you love me?" "Only in summer." 

There is a strange beauty in defeat. To give up and to let go is an art so painful and euphoric that few can ever master the discipline. Yet, you could not help but try. You had to say goodbye to a bit of life, an old name, to live once again. Sometimes, still, you could smell the hints of a campfire if you closed your eyes for long enough.

After finishing university and moving away from your relative who took you in, you travelled around Japan for a while. It took years to get used to the constant hustle and bustle of the world, and you often felt displaced in the city's hectic life compared to the countryside you grew up in. However, life had finally returned to a somewhat more peaceful state. Not exactly familiar, but it was a softer difference. Recently, you were appointed as a history teacher in a small-town high school. It was a safer career than you had once dreamed of, but it would keep you hidden. That's all that mattered. You enjoyed the mountains near the town.

When you first arrived, some things were unexpectedly painful. The starting months felt like a constant exorcism, a battle not to jump and think you summoned the ghosts of old friends whenever a student came up to ask a question. But the pain was comforting in a way. They had lived and affected the world around them. Even if it was silently, you could carry their legacy and find forgiveness in supplying a future to others. A future they were denied. This was your cleansing.

The students on their end were pleasant, consistently hard-working and upbeat. And, of course, over time, you developed favourites: the creative Hana Kai, the outspoken Yuki Yamamoto, and, especially, the thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa.

Strangely, even with your reservations about closeness, you became rather popular, even finding, at the end of some classes, notes left on your desk: 

Dear Teacher,  Thank you for the class.  Dear Teacher,  I am glad you are feeling better.  Dear Teacher, Please smile more often.   

Despite years of developing a numb compliance with life, you could not help but feel touched. It was nice to be liked and somewhat accepted back into a community, even if it was only a false image they loved. 

However, you could not help but wonder what they would do if they knew that one of their favourite teachers, at night, away from their wool sweaters and bad jokes, dreamt of stone cottages and warm summers? How could they understand how your mind was captured by the sea and the calling of the woods? Even worse, you couldn't imagine their judgment if they knew of the gray eyes that haunted your subconscious. A demon. Shuten-dōji with a laugh: 

I could just die for you. I could just kill for you. And I could just love you until the end. I am you, and you are me. Cut off my head, and I'll grow another on the back of your mind. 

You would wake in terror and yearning. Most nights, you could not go back to sleep. Instead, you would find yourself sitting at the kitchen table, marking or reading anything to suppress the sweet evil lurking behind your fantasies. You had to forget before you lost yourself to dreams. 

In the waking world, you distracted yourself with a growing hatred for the biology teacher, Taisuke Henkyoji. In all fairness, it appeared he despised you in return when it became clear you would not fawn over him. 

He was from a wealthy family with designer clothes, fancy watches, and a carefree attitude. His name was seen everywhere, from the hospital where his brother, Kusuke, worked as the chairman to the only hotel within town. It was a world so far removed from small village roots, worn clothes, and scuffed shoes that you wondered if you could even find it on a metaphorical map. 

However, you could not help but see how he only possessed a dull attractiveness, only passively acknowledged until placed in a position of power. Therefore, it didn't surprise you that he was popular among teenage girls. Yet, out of all those teenagers, you could not help but worry about one in particular. The thoughtful Nanami Shirakawa, who was awkward and sweet, with big dreams and an introverted personality, which reminded you of someone you had to bury so long ago. 

Sometimes, you would catch her absent-mindedly doodling hearts in her notebook or fiddling with her phone with a wistful smile. Other times, while walking the halls, you would pass her peaking into Henkyoji's classroom. It was clear she was infatuated with the man.

It was a worrying love. Innaproate and not helped by Henkyoji's overly friendly and even disturbingly flirtatious behaviour. You had even tried to warn him of Nanami's feelings:

"You need to shut her down gently, Henkyoji-san. This whole situation is unhealthy."  "And you care, why? Jealous?" 

Of what? That comment made you immediately uncomfortable. You tried to go to the principal, who also quickly dismissed your concerns: 

"Henkyoji-san is from a highly regarded family. Such a suggestion could sully not only their image but the school's reputation," - a sigh- "There is nothing to worry about, Y/N... especially if the only evidence you have is an off-hand comment and the crush of a teenage girl. Please, don't bring this topic up again." 

Yet, it echoed in your mind when you noticed how sullen Shirakawa had started to become. There was a growing dullness behind her eyes, a letting go that was much like yours. You could see a dangerous defeatism. 

After class one day, as you saw the young girl merely gaze at her desk the entire lesson, neither moving to take notes nor really paying attention, you decided it would best to ask her to talk:

" Shirakawa-Kun, I just wanted to know if you are feeling okay," You tried to smile empathically, "I know it can be awkward talking to your teacher." "I am sorry, " she rubbed her eyes harshly. " I am just drained." You could see the fear behind her expression. An invisible subject, something cold and dead whose images reflected back a once firey disposition that burnt itself out into ash. "Shirakawa-Kun, I apologize for being so direct, but I know something is wrong."  "I really am okay," she paused for a second, fiddling with her bag, "I really have to get home...my mother needs me to help...she'll be worried if I am held up for too long."  You sighed, realizing any further conversation was a losing battle, "This may seem unorthodox...but please take my number," you pulled out a piece of paper and began to write, "If you need someone to talk to, call me, and we can set up a time to meet in my office." "Thank you." She took what you handed her with a slight reluctance and placed it in her pocket "Please, even if it's not me, know you do not have to handle this alone. I know what it's like to feel the world crashing into you. I promise." 

You closed your eyes as she left and sighed. I know what it's like to love and fear someone in the same breath. I know what it's like to be alone. 

It was easy to imagine him there next to you, as you often did, clothed in black, in a nice jacket, and without colour save for his red lips. Ah, what would you do? Is this what you felt like? Fragmented? 

You could not sleep that night. Sitting at your kitchen table, reading, until at 1 A.M, a single message appeared on your phone:

Dear Teacher, Thx for everything. It was nice to know someone cares. I hope you have a good night. -Shirakawa

When morning came, you were unsurprised that Shirakawa was absent from class. However, you could not have imagined the reason the headmaster pulled you out of your homeroom.

"Why would she try to kill herself?"  "She's a teenager, Y/N! I have no idea why she would do such a thing; I just called you in to let you know about the situation. Do not discuss this with anyone but the staff."  "It was him, wasn't it..." "I said not to bring such a topic up again!" "You can't ignore this forever! Please, just listen to me!" "Go. Back. To. Class. We will pretend this never happened."

Guilt spread throughout your body as if you were drowning. How could you have turned away? Why did you not write back? You felt yourself transform into a frightful and hideous creature that had been tied to the buna tree so many years ago. A coward. A failure. Another child almost died because you didn't act fast enough. Kikue. Reo. I'm sorry.

You had cut class early that day and ran to the hospital. My fault. It's all my fault. You needed to apologize in person. You needed to ask Shirakawa. You needed to know the truth. Fuck Taisuke Henkyoji.

Dishevelled, sweating, and breathless, you ran to the front desk and requested the room number. 

"Are you...okay?"  "Please, I'm here to see Nanami Shirakawa," - a breath- " I'm one of her teachers," The woman at the desk looked annoyed, "Well, you're lucky. It seems she's currently taking visitors; let me phone up the room...I'm not paid enough for this-" A voice...soft... melodious...that itched your memory interrupted, "Is everything alright here?" No...You could not speak. Your throat refused to open. The world swam for a second. "Sir, were just up to see Ms. Shirakawa?"  He was beautiful. He looked just like him. "Yes, she seems to be doing...well...as one would expect in such a situation."  "Hmmm," she hummed, uninterested, "Sorry to ask this of you as a civilian, but since you are here, could you please assist...who were you again?"  "Shirakawa's history teacher," You replied shakingly. It's not him. It cannot be him.  "Your name?" The woman rolled her eyes. You took a deep breath. You had changed your name when you lived with your relative. You were not you anymore, even if it was him somehow, "Y/N."  "Y/N?" The man turned to you fully. Shuten-dōji. He looked like your Shuten-dōji, "What a..." He paused as if startled before quickly composing himself, "Lovely name..."  "It's pretty common," He looked at you with such intensity you thought the ground would swallow you up. It can't be him. It wouldn't make sense for him to be here. You were literally in the middle of nowhere. The lady at the desk signed, "Well, you two are very sweet, but if you could kindly take Y/N up to see Shirakawa, that would be very helpful. I have to talk another call...so..."  The man gave the woman a bland smile and beckoned you to follow him. You could feel the sweat build upon the back of your neck; his grey eyes followed you like a snake to a mouse, refusing to let you out of his sight.  "You didn't ask me for my name,"  "I'm sorry?"  "My name, would you like to know it?"  "Oh, my apologies. I'm just a bit scattered today,"  "That's understandable, considering..."  "Yes, considering I would like to know your name."  The man laughed and mumbled, "You sound just like them...look just like them... you could even think," A distant look filled his expression, "It's like looking at a photograph," He seemed to catch himself, "Ah, sorry, I had a close friend that left me many years ago; I lost myself for a moment. I believe we are both scattered today." You wanted to change the subject as soon as possible. A coincidence. It has to be. The world wouldn't be so cruel. The Kirin would not be so cruel.  "How do know Shirakawa-kun?"  "I saved her from drowning."  "What?!"  "I'm a very strong swimmer." He glanced at you with subtle amusement, and then a look of distant grief entered his eyes. "My name is Dan Hiroki." You stopped. No. "Is something wrong?" Yes. Something is very fucking wrong.  "Oh, it's nothing...It's been just a long day..." You needed to leave as soon as possible, "Actually, I just remembered I forgot something at home-" "Hmmm," He hummed as if thinking, "I think you should see Shirakawa-kun." He stopped and grabbed your arm as if trying to ensure you could not flee. His grey eyes, searching as if trying to figure something out, "I fear she needs all the moral support she can get right now." You bit your lip hard, thinking of a way to escape this. Fuck. What if he recognized you? What would he do? A man capable of killing without remorse, you shivered just imagining the type of torture he would inflict. How could you leave without looking suspicious? "It..." Shit. "Your right. However, I really can't stay for long." He continued to walk, not letting go of your arm, until stopping before the elevator, "You really do look just like them...It's been so long...ah, memories... memories, a cruel mistress."  "I can't imagine," the evaluator dinged.  "Fufu, for some reason," He pulled you inside, "I feel like you might," You could feel the red string of fate being pulled, "Yes, I would love to get to know you, Y/N." 

You would like to think you would have met again one day, perhaps in a better place, surrounded by the fragrance of the buna tree. You never thought you would meet in a hospital. You never thought he wouldn't recognize you. 

A memory:

"Please don't cut off my head, Minamoto no Yorimitsu" "I promise, but only in summer."

One day, you thought you would meet again, surrounded by summer.

A memory:

"Tell him I died. He would come looking for me otherwise. You know why I am asking this. Don't let me bring you shame. Please let me go."

The ride is silent until the final ding. He smiles at you once you reach the right floor.

A memory:

"Y/N, wait for me next summer?" "You know I always will be here.

His left eye twitches and his smile grows.

"Shall we go see your student?" He pulls your arm gently, his now fully lopped with your own. "I don't think I have much of a choice." "Be careful, Y/N," He chuckles darkly, "I might just grow fond of you." "There is nothing to be fond of." You walked out together and felt his hand tighten around your bicep as if worried you would run away.

A memory:

A place filled with tiny stone houses, crumbling temples, and giant windmills with rotor blades like dragons' teeth, gnawing away at the occasional gale. "Do you believe in the Kirin?" "I believe humans are cruel, and Gods are crueller."

The red string of fate tugged again as you headed towards the hospital room and into an unknown future.

You fear Dan would never let you go if he discovered your true identity. You feared much worse than death. There truly is a strange beauty in defeat.

A memory:

This was your home. All you could ever want. "Hey, Y/N, look up! There's a flock of crows." "Actually, I think it's called a murder."

#Just a fun add on #Thought it would be fun to see where Y/N and Dan would be 10 years later #brutal: confessions of a homicide investigator #Long fic #hiroki dan #brutal manga #brutal: satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #manga #brutal hiroki dan #brutal satsujin kansatsukan no kokuhaku #brutal: hiroki dan #hiroki dan x reader #gender neutral y/n #y/n #horror #self insert #TW suicide #tw death #tw depression

[another-blog-about-miis]

I'm tired of this blog, goodbye.

This communication is shit and I'm fucking tried, I already left it like a month ago but I kept this running so I can continue entertaining people. But I honestly don't see the point anymore.

I still love WDY, but the fandom is shit. If I make art of it, I'm not going to post it on this blog anymore, I'm no longer going to take drawing requests for this blog.

This isn't about the drama that is happening right now, I'm just done.

Thank you to those who have supported me and my art, I'm not going to tell you my other blogs' names in fear of people from the situation coming after me.

To those people, I can't be on your side or Lilith's because I have not seen proof of your claims. I am sorry if these things did happen to you. I can promise I do not condule Lilith's actions if they did, in fact, happen. I'm not going to talk to you or Lilith at all, so please don't contact me. I already got anonymous asks, calling me a freak. I've already blocked the person who said that and deleted the asks.

I never wanted to be a part of this, I was only trying to help with what little information I had at the time.

I do not condule minors making fetish art or telling people to kill themselves. I'm not that type of person.

I now know to just leave these things alone and to only step in when things get too far.

I hope all parties of this drama will get peace, and I wish you all a good day.

Me and my AUs all say goodbye, and we're sorry we can't stay to entertain you anymore. We all wish you the best of luck and that you've enjoyed our time together. Even though it was short, I had a grand time. I wish it didn't have to end like this, but all things come to an end, and it's best to just accept it with open arms and smile knowing we had our fun.

Goodbye, my dear friends, may we meet again some sunny day on a different blog or different a site. <3

#wii deleted you #goodbye

[tiriansrambles]

Letters. Pt 1/???

Edwin & The Cat King

ft Charles.

spoilers mentioned. please don’t read if you have not seen dead boy detectives!!!

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┊ ┊ ┊ ┊ ˚✩ ⋆｡˚ ✩

┊ ┊ ┊ ✫

┊ ┊ ✩

┊ ⊹ ✯

✯

Edwin isn’t entirely sure when this all began. the letters. the feeling of joy when he’d receive one from dead mail. he never thought something so small would give him so much to look forward to. even though he should be focused on cases, his mind always wondered when he’d get another letter. considering he doesn’t … have a telephone. this was the best bet for any communication.

Edwin had begun to receive letters from the cat king. he shouldn’t be as surprised as he is. but he is. He was pleasantly surprised about how nice of a feeling this was. when he first got a letter from Cat King, he figured he would forget about Edwin the moment he returned to London, even after their small goodbye. He still has the Lilly, preserved and put away for safekeeping. Mostly, he doesn’t want Charles to know he kept it.

The first letter received was him asking if he was okay. It had been some time since Niko. And to be frank, he wasn’t okay. At all. Even though he knows she’s moved on now. he misses her. every day. She became a dear friend and one of the only good things that happened in Port Townsend. He missed her. Despite her bravery, she didn’t deserve to die. He wanted her here. badly. Who else could he tell about the letters? Who else could understand? But he knows, for sure, that her afterlife is pure magic. Peace. Perhaps she had reunited with her father. He hopes she’s happy, at peace. The Cat King even allowed Edwin to talk about Niko for a long while through their letters, it was nice to let it out. He still missed her though, tremendously.

Since then, they haven’t stopped writing to each other. They’ve been writing every single day for weeks on end. Between cases, he’d make the time to write something to complete the letter and send it off. He appreciates Cat King’s effort. Truly. Considering there were probably easier ways of communicating. Like a telephone, or whatever it is that the kids use nowadays. Texting and Snapchat and whatever else. He can barely register the internet. And snap chat has a ghost emoticon for its logo. offensive. what do pictures have to do with the dead?

As the letters go on, of course, there is always a flirtatious tone to them. So much so he could even read the words in his voice. Imagining him in front of him, the way he would move about. Edwin didn’t want to admit this, but he almost … /missed/ the Cat King. After taking the time to understand him, the way he behaves. they are not so different. Two lonely souls. Perhaps he found comfort in that. In him.

Edwin’s gaze follows the stroke of each letter on the page, a soft hum escaping his lips. And soon enough, he’s smiling again.

Edwin,

How are you today, handsome? I found myself bored and decided to visit the library. I know, crazy, right? What would a sexy, and powerful being like me be doing in the PortTownsend public library? Well, I remembered you talking about how reading was a good pass time. So, I figured, why not? Take a page out of Edwin Payne’s book, amirite? I don’t know how you feel about modern books as of late. But I found something rather intriguing. I think you might like this one. The Song of Achilles. Madeline Miller. Did you know they have audiobooks now, where things are read to you? But I figured you’d hate that. Too lazy for you, isn’t it?

I was thinking, as much as I love writing to you…I thought maybe we could read this together. I’m sending you the book. Let me know what you think. And maybe, just maybe you could mirror to Port Townsend. We could read and talk about it. No funny business, I promise. Cat’s honor. But yes, this is me asking you out on a date. Whether it’s friendly or romantic is up to you, you’re painfully aware of what I prefer. I’d come to you, of course, but I’m sure it would cause unnecessary drama with your bestie. Although, I love the drama. I’ll spare you the drama until you inevitably fall in love with me.

You should be receiving it soon. Let me know. Don’t keep me waiting. <3

Love,

The Cat King.

If Edwin could blush, his face would be as red as a tomato. He reads the letter, once, twice, three times. A DATE?! A date… of reading a book. Together. That was intimate. Especially to Edwin, he loved to read. To research. He has not read anything modern, though. The only other ‘person’ he shared books with was Monty. Monty… he still couldn’t believe that. He had seemed to lose interest in making any more friends or sharing things with anyone. But The Cat King is the one who reached out. As he re-reads the letter for what felt like the millionth time, he jumps at the sudden shouting.

“MAIL!!!!” Called out the delivery man. Edwin is on his feet, quietly shushing him, but thanking him nonetheless. He hands him a package. it was the book, of course. but it was wrapped neatly with a bow. the wrapping paper was an interesting shade of green with a gold bow. It seemed to be the only thing to come. , It had been such a long time since he’s received a gift. especially like this. he almost didn’t want to open it, but of course he does. and despite being quick with it, he is cautious to save the wrapping paper. He stares down at the book, a finger tracing the cover. Interesting… a modern retelling of the Trojan War? From the perspective of Patroclus? The Cat King was correct. This certainly caught his eye…

“Wait!” Edwin calls out to the delivery man before he can leave, stopping him in his tracks.

The delivery man shoots him a look, and Edwin smiles, sheepishly. “I apologize, could you just wait one moment?”

Edwin is quick to get back to his desk, setting the book down and quickly getting out parchment to respond to the Cat King.

Cat King,

I have received the book… I must say, my interest has peaked.

I would very much like to read this book with you…

Edwin hesitates, a nervous breath escaping him.

I would … enjoy this to be a date. I don’t know in what way just yet. I would like to see you. I will find time to come see you. For now, we could read and write letters back until I can mirror over. Cases always take priority, of course.

Thank you… for thinking of me. It means a lot to me.

I am looking forward to this.

Edwin.

He can tell the delivery man is getting impatient, but he gets the letter ready in the nick of time, handing it over.

“I apologize. Could you please send this…and um, perhaps when you have letters addressed to this person, could you not announce it? ”

The delivery man blinks a moment, before rolling his eyes. Perhaps he could even sense the shame Edwin felt. He was keeping this from Charles. How could he explain this to him anyhow? He would just be angry…

“Very well,” the delivery man spoke, phasing through the wall.

Edwin sighs, leaning against the desk as if the wind was knocked out of him. This was already hard enough to hide from Charles, how was he going to do this? After the confession…things were? Well, awkward wasn’t necessarily the word. They just didn’t talk about it again. Charles said they had forever to figure it out. He was right…but it was obvious. He did not feel the same. He knows he would prefer Crystal as well… if his affections are for her, then how could he keep that from him? He loved him. He just wanted him to be happy. More than anything in the world. His dearest friend. His best friend. Perhaps that is what they are destined to be. He wouldn’t have it any other way…

Even if the Cat King is still really confusing for him, he can’t lie to himself. He has grown fond. Why shouldn’t he pursue it?

Yeah. That’s exactly what he will do. If reading this book together goes well, and he truly enjoys his company? Why not.

He nods to himself, turning to look at the book on his desk. Just as he was going to reach for it, Charles’ voice snapped him to attention.

“You all right, mate? You look frazzled.” Charles asks a brow quirked in confusion.

Edwin nearly jumps out of his skin, soon taking a moment to collect himself.

“Yes. Yes, perfectly fine.” He clears his throat, soon moving his position to hide the book on his desk. As discreetly as possible, of course. He felt guilty, hiding this from Charles. But he had no way to explain this. He just knows he will be angry with him.

Another quirked brow and a chuckle escaped Charles. “You sure, you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He grins.

Edwin rolls his eyes, fondly. “Ha ha. You’re hilarious, Charles Rowland.”

“Arent I just?’ Charles grins, “really, though, you good?”

Edwin nods, “im fine, yes. just lost in thought.”

That wasn’t a total lie, of course.

“Well, Crystal and i were going to watch a movie. Care to join?” Charles asked, although he already knew the answer.

“Oh… um…” god, why was he so nervous.

“I think I’ll skip this one,” Edwin chuckles, “i uh— i would like to read tonight. You two have fun, though?” He offers, a nervous grin on his lips.

Charles brow is quirked again. The way he answered was not what he expected. A rather nice answer rather than saying something silly like it was a waste of time. There was something on his mind, but he doesn’t question. For now anyway.

“Alright then, mate. you know where we’ll be. enjoy your book.” He chuckles, offering a wave as he exits the room.

Edwin’s demeanor changed when he left, turning his attention to the book.

“Yes… i think i will enjoy it.”

#ramble with me #ramble with tiri #tirians rambles #tirianswriting #dead boy detectives #edwin payne #the cat king #charles rowland #edwin x the cat king #crystal palace #i fully imagine cat king buying the book wrapping paper and bow for Edwin #I feel like he struggled wrapping that I bet it took him hours to get it perfect #he probably had some cats hold things down for him too #the man is going to be kicking his feet at the response aaaaa #this is so silly should i keep going?

[fanfoolishness]

Random spoilery thoughts for The Apostate based on my deliriously watching it way after my bedtime last night, but before rewatching it tonight with the husband:

Was very excited to see Bo-Katan’s helmet in the credits. She’s really going places this season, huh?

Loved seeing glimpses of the helmet ritual. I was worried that the kid was going to be baby Din, even though he looked absolutely nothing like him; I was relieved to see it was present day, but I still would’ve liked another flashback to kid!Din. Also, does Din just not have flashbacks anymore? I kind of miss them.

A little salty we didn’t see any Mando’a in this whole ritual. But, I loved seeing the Armorer more. She’s always an intense, mesmerizing presence and even though I now distrust her (is she Force-sensitive? the way she somehow realized that croc-monster was coming… not to mention some of her other appearances where she seems to know more than people are telling her) I always love seeing her do her thing.

I want to try and write something about Din wishing he was welcome for Grogu’s sake (so he can be around other Mandalorians besides Din and discover the community for himself) but can’t seem to figure it out.

Wish we saw some more non-human Mandalorians though :(

SPACE WHALES! Purrgil, yes? Man I still need to watch Rebels. But I obstinately want to watch all of Clone Wars first (we made it to season 5! We’re so close!)

I love that Grogu was both entranced by them but also a little scared because they were just so vast. Hence the need for a cuddle, which Din did not object to.

HIGH MAGISTRATE GREEF KARGA, please, if we have to spin off more characters from The Mandalorian to get to their own TV shows, we need to see Greef just Carl Weathersing around. Everything with him is just delightful! Let his cloak get longer every episode, please please please.

Not sure at all about this harebrained IG-11 idea, Din, but I loved that we could hear some of the music that used to play for Kuiil in the theme there, and that Din straight-up called IG his friend.

DEAR GOD IN HEAVEN WHAT WAS THAT I did not expect DROID HORROR here!!!

Love to see Nevarro all grown up! Greef may still be a little shady and obviously self-serving but I love that he wants to bring other people along with him too. The more wealth around in general the more for him too, right? So of course Nevarro needs to get respectable and dank farrik, he’s just the man to do it.

I’m glad Cara Dune didn’t die on the way back to her home planet. I’ll miss her presence as a friend and comrade to Din but I won’t miss Gina Carano’s bullshittery. Maybe we can meet a buff female Mando this season to add to the roster if we have to be adding new characters.

Big man in tiny room 😍

GROGU NO omg I love that he is just as awful as real toddlers sometimes 😂

…and yet Din thinks it’s time for him to learn about hyperspace navigation what even is this parenting technique

I still miss the Razor Crest, but I like that the Naboo thing (what is it called again?) makes Din even more menacing as a pilot

Dad Is My Seatbelt ❤️

I enjoy the mossy pirate. He is rather disgusting but I’ve never seen a design quite like that before.

Bo-Katan really has nothing better to do these days than lecture Din, does she? I love how disillusioned she’s become with the Darksaber. “Just wave that thing around and they’ll do whatever you say.” I also love that she calls out Din’s tribe for being superstitious and weird again. Like we all know Din is gonna ride a mythosaur by the end of this season or next and he’ll find the mines and they better be super cool, but I’m still feeling solidarity with Bo-Katan, resident skeptic

I just need Din to really sit down and think, “Do I regret taking my helmet off? It was always to help Grogu. To try and keep him alive, to try and find him, to say goodbye to him. Don’t I owe loyalty to him, too? Do I feel like an apostate?” Figure your shit out, sir!

But in the meantime, keep proudly telling everyone you meet your son’s horrible name. I made myself laugh for a minute straight when I realized Greef is over here thinking Din named Grogu that on purpose

Plotwise, definitely the most scattered premiere of the show, and because of it, not the most effective episode. I’d give it a B - perfectly enjoyable and some really fun, surprising moments, but it’s not asking the big questions that it keeps hinting at just yet. I hope they get there.

#the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 spoilers #the mandalorian the apostate spoilers #the apostate spoilers #the mandalorian #din djarin #grogu djarin #my mando reviews #the apostate

[walpu]

Angel lady ramble time!

Born from a runaway halovian in chaotic planet named Deyanira-VIII, it was a world with little civilization located in a far corner of a galaxy, with its locals wiped out many Amber Eras ago and now inhabited by outworlders, where whoever wishes to stay in that planet must learn the art of its world and be an adept survivalist.

The planet is beautiful—truly—natural resources are there, it possesses a unique ecosystem, where the remnants of the old yet advanced civilization lie, it is a livable world yet holds its own cruelty. Many have challenged the nature of Deyanira-VIII, pursuing countless hidden treasures and relics of immense value. Some are treasure hunters looking for artifacts to be taken home and exchanged for credits, while others are explorers determined to unveil what the planet hides. With its many corners that have never been seen, carrying many dangers and possibly taking many lives of many due to its savage nature, it is no surprise that so many are curious despite the danger.

Same goes to Zielle, born in a small peaceful civilization with no authority to control them, they go with “not prohibited does not equate to permitted” in their lives, of course it is not the best community to live in so the young girl would steel herself up while following her group wherever they would go. Though she was one of the children that were held close by the adults and wasn’t allowed to explore on her own, looking at her left and looking at her right, same goes to front and back she’d see the bodies of the adults blocking the view. To protect her and the other children from danger, yet the enchanting charm the world has to offer fascinates her to no end she has a rebellious streak for running away into the wilderness, yes she has the physical prowess but what can a little halovian do if said wilderness wants to devour her? She could only remember the adults told her to hide her wings and stick her halo onto her head like a headdress, just sing for the people that loves her voice, do what she loves and spread her melody.

A wild child if you may, would go missing during nighttime or when there’s a heavy rain. Was it dangerous? Yes. Was it worth it? She got nothing from it, but at least she knows what’s out there, and she could scavenge for more remains. A little bird who flew from her nest too early, her parents went into the wilderness and never came back, living amongst other children in the orphanage.

It was after some time that a lonely Nameless came to this planet and left their mark that Zielle started to go running outside once again, the pitter patters of the rain was all too familiar, an old friend in case she ascended to high to ground her back to the earth. The repeated habit of running away and attempts to launch herself into the sky blurred her memory, years of enduring the savages of Deyanira-VIII bred a tough cookie, going out of her way to join expeditions to find something worth to gain materials and exchange it for an affordable space transport, or better yet rebuild an abandoned spacecraft and make it hers.

If that Nameless taught her something during their limited encounters when they stayed in this planet as they saw her twinkling eyes at their vehicle, was that thousands of years ago in the vast empty space there was once a fleet of trains running on the star rail under the Aeon named Akivili. To connect distant worlds together from different star systems and even the most distant of galaxies, the Nameless told their stories of their adventures and battles and parties. To start a chapter of her life, turn the page, keep looking up at the sky, for they believed she can also walk on the path of the Trailblaze.

And under the light drizzle, the Nameless finally bid their goodbye to Deyanira-VIII and walk amongst the stars. From that day, the young woman walks deeper into the dangers of the planet, and her next destination is the stars.

- 🪽

I love the nameless so much dear lord

She is so free spirite,

I bet in-game she would be a Robin's narrative parallel at least in some way: caged bird and a free spirit 🥹

#zielle

[shallowseeker]

Eerie coincidences leading up to season 8's Goodbye Stranger

I swore I'd never talk about this episode, but it features a jealous guy named Spencer (he who "dispenses"), a "Jimmy," and a girl named after the "forgiveness" character in The Merchant of Venice and is reminiscent of Porsche/"fancy car."

But I will say that this is so very, very, incredibly, jaw-droppingly Chuck-coded:

SPENCER: Of course you don't. Neither of you ever considered my feelings. JAMES: Portia? This is about her? SPENCER: Can you imagine the insult when she chose you? I wanted her as my soul mate the moment I saw her. When she picked you...I endured it. But when you two went all Bella and Edward, broke the code, put your passions before the community rules, well, the arrogance, the entitlement was too much. Your total ruination seemed appropriate.

This is the infamous, cruel, disrespectful 8x15 Man's Best Friend with Benefits. (Skip it, it's not worth the egregious racism). Nevertheless, there is a remarkably consistent throughline running through many of these throwaway episodes, coming just before 8x17 Goodbye Stranger.

James "Jimmy" is a man being forced to "act out" murders, just as Cas is acting out and committing murders for Heaven. Like Cas, he's pushing his (would-be) lover away. He shouts her to "GO," Just as Cas shouted Dean to "GO" in Purgatory.

When I think about the ruination of the Nephilim-coded things being destroyed in seasons 8 and 15, all I can see is Chuck sundering Earth from Heaven.

///

And here, in 8x16 Remember the Titans, we have a Zeus behaving remarkably similar to how The Empty does in 14x08 Byzantium. Zeus cursed Prometheus to die over and over, and his seven-year-old son is now awakening to the same fate.

ZEUS: Tell me, has Prometheus experienced the child's death yet? [HAYLEY gives a nod.] How did he take it? Did he hurt? [HAYLEY nods again.] Good. [ZEUS points his fingers at SHANE/PROMETHEUS who falls to his knees attempting to breathe.] 8x16: Remember the Titans

...

COSMIC ENTITY: Stop interrupting! Start paying attention. I'm taking him. And where I'm taking you is worse than Hell… because at least Hell is something. Ohh. Ohh, God, they look scared. Does that hurt you? Good… because I want it to. [Cas deploys his angel blade to attack, but the Entity flings him across the room] 14x08: Byzantium

///

In season 7, Cas refers to his own resurrection as, "I don't die - I'm brought back again. I see now. It's a punishment resurrection. It's worse every time." 7x23: Survival of the Fittest

///

The Prometheus himself is dressed a little bit as season 1 Sam, as a boy hated by God, but narratively, he's Cas.

SAM: Of course not. You were afraid big daddy would find out that you fell for the person he hates most in this world.

Makes you wonder if Cas's instincts are right? Perhaps, Chuck actually hates Cas. Perhaps, it really is a sadistic punishment resurrection, and he actually lives and breathes to see Cas and Dean separated.

...

And again here, Zeus's rage has so much in common what what the Empty will be like:

ZEUS: You like being an immortal, don't you? [He's kneeling in front of OLIVER again.] Oh, sure, you die every day, but nothing can keep you dead. [ZEUS looks over at SHANE who is lying on the ground.] It's almost like taking a little nap. All of your cares and worries disappear for a little while. Well, it's sleepy time, my dear boy. [His tone is like a loving grandfather, he stands, both hands crackling with lightning.] I never get tired of watching you die. [ZEUS, holding SHANE up, says it right into his ear.] Your boy is going on the mountain. 

...

[The entity kicks CASTIEL.] COSMIC ENTITY: Just let’s lay down. Let’s just try and sleep. Hmm? Think about it. Infinite peace, yes? No regrets. No pain. Kiddo, save yourself.

///

I think Chuck is absolutely seething over Cas and Dean being in love in season 8.

Cas did not steal fire, but he did rip up the pages at the end of season 4. In season 10, his grace is reintroduced in a library, amongst fluttering pages, as a story-destroyer.

The theme of the angel-human hybrid family is ever-present in season 8, and the total ruination of the hybrid angel-human family is ongoing in season 15.

At the end, only Sam's family remains. The "pure," "good," "Noah-like" one. Heaven and Earth are split once more.

#spn season 8 #to tag later #jaames told portia to GO #just as cas screamed at dean to GO in purgatory #it's a cas parallel

[suguwu]

😱😱😱 Bee you do it to Takao like that?? You kill him like that!? No goodbye, no last "I love yous" that's so cruel!!

okay before i get into THAT, you never fail to provide the most beautiful detail to every mundane moment, but if i gushed over every one, this ask would get five part series too

Honest to god i was so certain Takao would've actually left in the end. Like "oh your soulmate's here? guess i'll die" and he just!! goes!! and let's be real in his shoes, i dont blame him. at least he said something. he communicated his feelings and he took a step back because he wanted space.

like yeah reader suffers a bit, but she's got a solid support system. she's got her parents, she's got her friends. have i mentioned i love Abe and Yoshikawa so much?? what would this story be like without them? how would Reader cope without them?? i dare not think.

also you're so good at describing food, i wanted those crepes so much

okay and i must know, what's the soulmate clause in the marriage contract, what was all that about??? it sure sounds like a lot of boring paperwork to me, and a headache to work through. you're so good at weaving subtle worldbuilding in where it matters, but that's the problem, i want the story to be about bullshit soulmate clauses in marriage contracts. what are soulmate laws here, what do they look like

Kita is so good, that's the problem. the progression of their interactions between text and phone call to eventual physical visits was very sweet. If he was an asshole that'd make things easier. and honestly i was Very nervous where it was going because like especially when the wedding got cancelled after reader met her soulmate, i'd lose my mind because you KNOW that got people's tongues wagging.

it's unfortunate that it's not hard to imagine that a lot of people would in fact, find reader insane for not immediately choosing her soulmate in a heartbeat. your neighbors, your co-workers, distant relatives, people on the goddamn street etc

oh my god speaking of, i wasn't kidding when i said i would've fist fight Atsumu in the streets, i could've HOWLED.

Aran is a fuckin blessing because i knew the twins were gonna have Opinions on reader after she rejected Kita. THEY may be protective of Kita, but I'M protective of reader and i'm stronger, i know it. i could beat them. the social expectation surrounding soulmates would be abysmal, can you imagine?? and we only got a little taste of it, when Atsumu just threw his hands up like "He's your soulmate!" as if that was supposed to be the end all be all statement to end an argument. when reader is MARRIED??

oh, you already have a partner? forget them! you met your soulmate! guilt tripped reader for KITA'S choice to remain in contact as if it's her job to manage his feelings. i'd ream Atsumu so hard it'd strip the hair dye from his follicles and he'd have to go back to Onigiri Miya, a brunette again.

thank god reader has supportive loved ones. thank fuckin god. if i got grilled by the general public, or even people in my life why i chose Some Guy and not my Soulmate, i would kill everyone in the room and then myself. SMH

okay i definitely had more to say but i'm gonna cut myself off now before i go insane luv u so much bee, congratulations again on getting part 2 out!!

whisper beloved this had me ROLLING lmao thank you so much for taking the time for this!!

cut because this is a long answer lol

i did do it to takao like that i'm afraid,,,he deserved better but i couldn't give it to him. i knew it from the start

takao could have peaced out and honestly it would have been the expected thing for him to do in this society! so he just took a step back. which i think was hard for him but easier than it could have been, knowing the support system reader has in place. i'm SO glad you love abe and yoshikawa they are also near and dear to my heart,,,love a good friendship!

lskjdflksjdf once i'm done with the fic i may release some of my worldbuilding notes! for the shrine clause (and a clause used by most marriage venues), it's one that allows the person getting married to get out of the contract without any consequences if they meet their soulmate. so they would get their deposit/any money back and not be held responsible for any penalties that might otherwise be described in said contract.

for the form they hand in at the time of marriage, some countries track soulmates and have bureaucratic systems around it. it's almost like a census in some ways. the form is essentially a report about whether either party has met their soulmate and if they are marrying their soulmate. it can be used as a way to stop the marriage if the soulmate desires to do so.

kita is Very Good and that's half of the issue, like you said! and yes, society has a Lot to say about reader's choice - it's very unusual and there's a lot of controversy around people who don't stay with their soulmates (don't even get me started on soulmate divorce).

PLEASE I AM CACKLING honestly atsumu deserves a fist fight for that one! both the twins do in their own way (osamu distracted kita so atsumu could go after reader). reader's been hoping to avoid them because she knew from aran's stories (they've met a few times, mostly over facetime when he was visiting kita) that meeting them probably wouldn't go well. and...on the money with that one.

thank you thank you for all of the thought that went into this ask. you are always far too kind and i'm so glad you enjoyed it!!!

#🪴.ask #whisper.🪷 #.lbgtm #.lbgtm spoilers #rainy day tag #i'm still laughing about sending atsumu back to onigiri miya a brunette lsdkflsjfd

[guapisoohyun]

I was talking with my little sister about anime and talking about Hunter x hunter I remembered all my shenanigans around it, for example that at the time it was airing I was at high school and entered this social network/app and discovered the whole world of role play, the hxh roleplay community especially really left me marked forever like today I was listening to the ost (god that hyori ittai) and almost cried with the memories, what a time it was, it was full of happiness and actually a lot of learning to me, I learnt english since it wasn’t even my main language or mother tongue and all of the interaction was in english, I remember so many friends that at the moment I can even only tag @irregardlessly-tish and name and remember Captain, (Captain Kyosai) @eon-nabari I think Miso too, I remember being amazed that I could talk with people who were from different states and countries, usa, canada, argentina, even with spanish speaking friends we talked mostly in english, and I was online so much time, my english was never cleaner and fluid, even now I don’t have that level, I forgot some things, rn I’m double checking my words in google translate and I’m still sure I’m making mistakes hahahah I remember such kindness between all members, how fun it was, the interactions in character, how we would comment on hxh’s chapters as we watched them all at the same time, (the last eps from chimera ant arc Istg, we were all crying) I remember playing the online games that I can’t even find now or know how to look for to play by myself but still, without any of you <\3 time really has passed, I remember talking with all of you through skype (bc that was where our connections reached, to the personal, in real life realm) and I don’t even remember how that app worked nor my username and password to all those conversations that are now a lost treasure, I bust a brain cell trying to remember even tumblr and this personal account and definitely cried when I remembered that I probably deleted my roleplay account, my dear “lovelyblind”, my komugi, the queen as some of you called it, what a honor actually to have been behind such a character and many moments, my thoughts and writings, my key to that lost community gone fr, why did I do thatttt, I could have just left it there, in hiatus, suspended, but it’s irreparable and sadly I can get over it as I thought I did all these years but it was just forgetfulness, now I really cried my and all’s departure (omg that is also hxh ost), now I can claim again those memories and carry them with me forever. Gone from my precious hxh community I after tried to join kagerou project, pmmm and ghibli rp communities and it wasn’t the same at all, not to mention tumblr itself was at its climax when hxh also was, and I was part of that fandom at its peak, even before hxh rp I was in One piece rp, I also remember one luffy @rubberbastardout-blog who interacted with my komugi, a blast, but friendship at last, all of it, the one piece is truly the friends we made along the way hahahah, it made me sad to see the accounts I follow here, some I’m sure were hxh rp friends, and have not been used in years, more sad it makes me that the rest will not get to read me even if they are active somewhere, ah my online, far distance friends, I’m here, I’m Dei, I was Komugi :’( my gons, killuas, shaiapouf, neferpitou, meruem, main characters in hxh and in my life as their rp writers. My komugi blog was created early morning and I say goodbye to that phase same hour, who would have known:’) Anyway now it is a farewell and we shall continue life, we are still the same person and through years we’ll carry that person we were deep inside. We are all still somewhere remembering that we had a glorious and happy past and a royal life <3

#hxh #pmmm #role play #if some of u are still there show urself haha #jk im hopeless #I missed talking through tags #crying #bye

[dear-ex-person]

dear ex best friend

I want you to know that I miss you so much. and that I am sorry that I never said goodbye to you after school on the last day of year 6. you were the person who taught me about the queer community, and for that, I am forever grateful. I hope you have a brilliant day and that life treats you well. I hope we can meet again someday

I miss you

<3

#dear ex ask #dear ex bestfriend

[polishhoney0]

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[hiddenpentacle]

Dear Listeners I

Dear Listeners, 

Firstly I want to say thank you for listening. Even if only this little bit and you decide it is not for you. I never want to force anyone to hear my thoughts if they do not wish to.

Which reminds me of someone who didn’t wish to. He was actually the last guy I was talking to. Around eight months of talking, three times fucking (one of which… didn’t actually work out because I gave him a blowjob beforehand so that was a little frustrating), once weekly hangouts (and blowjobs) when he wasn’t working, and a snapchat streak that was broken the last week of us talking. That was when I knew honestly. He said it was because his cat was dying and he just wasn’t on social media much. But even in his most exhausted nights the prior seven months and three weeks, he kept our streak. I gave him his space hoping he’d realize that whatever it is I was willing to work on it. But he never wanted to tell me what it was. Instead, he ghosted me for three to four days and then sent me a text in the middle of the night going something like this:

“Hey, I’m sorry for not responding these last few days. I’ve been doing some thinking and we are in two entirely different areas of our lives and we’re not healthy for each other so I’m ending things here. Again, I’m sorry and goodbye.”

I was heartbroken. And still am honestly. He seemed like he was so good and willing to be so good to me. Then he up and left. I realized that our entire communication system was based on my fear of abandonment. “You’re still into me, right?” “You can still see something serious with me, right?” As my mental health got worse, so did some of the manipulative things I would say. Even to the point that I would say that I wasn’t going to off myself because I wanted at least one more real date with him and not just basement hangouts. Which yes, super shitty thing to say. I want to say I would never say that again but my brain is really fighting me lately. And honestly that scares me. But when I said that to him, I really just wanted to go on another date. I wanted to feel wanted. Or to know I was wanted. I have met one person from his life and that was his brother. I only met his brother because he worked with my childhood best friend. So I was not included in his personal life aside from my own bubble of it for eight months.

See there is shit like that that was obvious red flags. Like, who doesn’t introduce someone at least to your own sibling? He said they were fairly close so like invite me over to chill with y’all? Or something. Please. 

That right there is me asking for the bare minimum. Even if we weren’t official, he had me believing we would be semi soon.

Semi soon. No definition of that at all, and I was willing to put my life on hold because he was just SO sweet to me… yeah, I think I really am just coming from a place of a lack of self love. Because I honestly don’t know much that was so sweet. If I’m going to be honest even, our sex life was so disappointing from my perspective. He made me orgasm on his own two, maybe three times. I made him orgasm (and damn good ones at that) from head nearly every time he came over, which lessened at the end of the eight months. But let’s say eight months times four weeks, once a week on average. 32 hangouts… 32 ish orgasms I’d given him. That orgasm ratio… I really accepted that oh my lord. “Brother, please never again,” my best friend texted me after I sent her that giving him the benefit of the doubt with 3 orgasms is almost a 3:33, 1:11 ratio. When I told my therapist that, her jaw DROPPED. 

Looking back on it, my jaw drops. I actually put up with that? Sure, I love giving head, but I also love orgasms. My thought process was that it takes me some time to come. It was super easy for him, didn’t take long, and was something I enjoyed as well. If he didn’t want to reciprocate, then he didn’t have to. But also I didn’t have to deal with that. I can guarantee that there is someone who meets the same bare minimum who enjoys learning how to make me come, no matter how long it takes to learn.

I still cry over him.

#Dear Listeners #writing #creative writing #emotions #tb #tlb #boys #readme! #21 #internetfriends