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zhongrin · 2 months

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skilled fingers, devious heart

✼ characters ┈ al haitham

✼ tags ┈ minors dni, fem-bodied reader (reader has a pussy), bratty!reader, manhandling, restraints, orgasm denial/control, edging, brat taming, light degradation, oral, light spanking, overstimulation, hint of c█rr█pt█d!haitham (hence he has his mean moments), aftercare, longfic (3.6k+)

✼ a/n ┈ “let me just draft a quick birthday oneshot for al haitham!” ー meirin, a total clown, circa 2024 /silly ..... anyways, happy birthday to the silliest man in sumeru. i love him dearly and i love that his bday is literally just a day away from my mom and one of my besties. very convenient to remember lol also, happy chinese new year!!! ✨

ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

when you asked your boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, you didn't think he would ask for this. then again, al haitham was mostly an unpredictable man, even to you as his lover. he seemed to have a knack for constantly having you on your toes, always anticipating his next actions and reminding you how much of a complex individual he was despite his simple aspirations in life.

such as now, when he requested you to ‘spread your legs and stay still’.

contrary to him, your answer was - at least in his eyes - predictable. a raise of eyebrows, a fox-like grin tugging on your lips, and al haitham could already hear the smug tone of your voice before you could even spoke the words, “make me.”

the fact that you loved to play a dangerous game with a dangerous man always came back to bite you in the ass, but your boyfriend played his part so well, it kept you coming back for more. he knew just the right way to respond to your challenge that made you shiver with want: muscles flexing as he pinned you down onto your shared bed, your preferred choice of restraints keeping you immobile and indecently spread for his blooming green eyes to observe. his pupils lined with brick reds dilated, the scholar stared at the resulting sight like a museum curator appraising an acclaimed artwork.

despite this, you were a fervent fire ablaze in the face of downpour, “it’s not like you to brute force your way into tackling a problem. was this morning’s session not enough for mister feeble scholar?”

ah. this artwork sure has a feisty personality to it.

al haitham snorted, his arm moving to place a hand on your inner thigh, tracing circles and indescribable patterns, “why do you bother futilely talking back and acting resilient in front of me, when it’s obvious how much power i hold over you? even the brightest students know to learn from their mistakes, so have you not learned from this morning about how powerless you are?”

he would never admit it, but while such display of bullheadedness irritated him when it came from other people, somehow it was almost adorable coming from you.

“wh- i'm not powerless!”

“the facts proved against your favor, however. especially considering how i’ve just succeeded in tossing you onto our bed and holding your body down. i know i could do whatever i wanted with you… and i was right, wasn’t i?” the hand holding your thigh squeezed briefly, his breath slowly caressing your skin the more he leaned closer, “besides, it’s also been proven that you like such treatments.”

you blushed, memories that proved his claims flooding your mind. yet, you huffed and looked away in hope to alleviate the warmth that was starting to bubble on your cheeks.

“so you might be needlessly strong physically, yes, okay, whatever. would you like a gold star for that?”

unfortunately(?) for you, despite the biting words, he didn’t miss the signs of your flustered state. his voice was as leveled as ever as more silken words fell from his lips; the very same ones you wished would just kiss you already, “remember how I pinned your hands above your head? how you tried kicking and wriggling, saying how you ‘can’t’ and yet… we both knew what exactly happened after that, don’t we?”

you felt your core clench at the taunt, throat swallowing at the picture he painted. your legs tugged against the straps as if you wanted to kick him. in turn, all you got back was an amused low chortle.

“cute,” the soft remark almost flew by you, but alas, before you could snap back at him, his touch started to trail further, tracing your labia before spreading the pink folds open with his fingers. an embarrassed squeak by you was followed by a condescending hum by your partner, his eyes zeroing on the slick coating your pretty clit and inner lips that oozed the remnants of your prior lovemaking, “and so mouthwateringly indecent.”

his digits dragged against your dripping cunt, a teasing smirk dancing on his face when a soft noise left your throat in response.

"such a mess," he remarked, infuriatingly nonchalant as if he hadn’t loved you so intensely just a few hours ago, “you were truly, completely cockdrunk last night, weren't you?"

“s-shut up…”

“why should i? you’ve mentioned how much you liked my voice. i doubt your perspectives had changed since then.”

“you don’t know that. maybe i don’t like it anymore,” you countered pettily.

“yet your body seems to arrive at a different conclusion,” the languid lull in his voice couldn’t mask the delight he experienced as he saw your sopping wetness drip with want. your lover smirked, dragging his finger up and down slowly, gathering your slick to circle around your swollen pearl, feathery touches leaving you wanting for more. the way you were shaking, your body twitching from sensitivity in return of his ministrations, was almost as hot as actual sex itself.

“ah… you meanie-” you inhaled sharply as this wicked, wicked man purposefully started rubbing your clit in the way he knew would make you putty in his hands. firm and calculated flicks followed by a finger slipping into your creamy cunt made you keen wantonly, thighs momentarily spreading wider before you found your decorum, rear falling back onto the soft sheets, teeth biting down on your bottom lip.

al haitham watched in fascination as you tried to regain your attitude. he wondered how long that would last this time. you were a puzzle that enthralled him, a chorus he wanted to listen forever. he might not have been studying under kshahrewar back in his younger days, but there was a part of him that wanted to pick you apart and put you back together again.

this was why he was so addicted to you.

he didn’t particularly enjoy doing extra work, but given the reward waiting for him at the end of the road, he determinedly doubled his action; one finger tapping and circling, the other knuckle-deep inside your tight heat, intense and unforgiving.

“fffuck- h-haitham-” the stutter of your needy voice sharpened his smirk, expression hardening into focus as he observed the twitch of your hips and the rivulets of juices coating his appendages. he briefly admired the way your skin glowed in perspiration, the way your fleshy parts rippled as you squirmed under him. no words could properly capture the desire brewing and consuming his whole being at having the privilege to witness such a sight.

he saw your breathing quicken, felt the clenching and unclenching of your walls, the way you started to move your hips as far as the restraints allowed, and your abdomen dipping as you inched nearer and nearer to bliss.

a mean glint of red, and his fingers withdrew quickly.

“wha- ah?”

you blinked and panted, eyes snapping wide as the coil loosened, and your sight settled on al haitham’s smug tilt of his head.

“i told you to stay still.”

“you… you prick! meanie! bastard!”

“that’s not the attitude you should be adapting given the current position of power,” he chided, before his hand deviously dropped back to its previous position, resuming in a much teasingly slower pace; a silent implication of what he could have done but chose not to, ”if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.”

“-son of a- oh! a-ah-” your words failed you as he added one extra finger into your warmth, prodding just near your favorite spot within the gummy walls, yet never directly.

you knew he could go deeper. he was dangling that carrot over you, and you were tempted to fall for his little game.

“pardon? what was that?” he asked, and if you didn’t see the way the corner of his lips curl up through your bleary eyes, you might have believed that he truly missed your barrages of insults born out of frustration, “would you like to say it louder?”

“archons, you- j-jerk!”

“oh?”

the sudden shift of his touch, turning firmer and faster, made you gasp and whimper, body twitching involuntarily as you felt the sensation build up yet again. your toes curl and your calves tensed, tugging against the harness as your biting words turned into needy moans. a shudder rocked your body, the back of your head digging onto the soft mattress as you felt him mouth on your collarbone, nibbling, tormenting in the most delectable way.

“use your words, darling. you were so smart with them just seconds ago.”

“haa- ngh! j-just let me cum, you unfair little-”

al haitham sighed like a disappointed tutor who had just discovered that his best student had earned an F in their recent exam. the sudden loss of his touch and the way you were forced to come down from that white-hot lines of satisfaction yet again made you cry out, the restraints straining noisily as you tried to buck onto something, anything.

a smirk returned onto his face as he witnessed your verbal and physical protest. that’s right, not yet. this was why he adored your stubbornness. he was going to tease and torment you until you were a total wreck, and then he would give you your reprieve in multitudes.

“how obstinate of you to continue denying your desires even when all outcomes dictate your loss,” the man remarked, palming your soft thighs and enjoying the way they dipped under the pressure of his hands. he was tempted to leave a few reds in the shape of his handprints, but he refrained… for now. that can come later.

“h-haitham….,” you mustered the wettest puppy eyes you could manifest - which wasn’t that hard considering the tears of pleasure already pooling in your eye lines - and blinking though your lashes at him, an adorable pout on your lips.

“what? is something missing to really help you release all of that tension?" he faked an indifferent tone fully meant to provoke.

you groaned, shivering as you felt the cold air brushing your flushed skin and swollen bundle of nerves begging for attention, “al haitham...!” you whined while quivering, eyes blown in desire, your pride refusing to budge any more than this.

the man smirked as your protests weakened with every seconds that ticked, the look of desire and lust in your eyes clearly increasing in intensity the more he reveled in your plight.

"hm?" he leaned forward to whisper in your ear, "still being stubborn?" he moved his middle finger towards the folds of your pussy, dragging it along your indecently leaking entrance and up into your aching clit, swirling slowly and making you shiver in response. even the smallest movements resulted in a sound that showcased how drenched you were, and it was all according to his plans, "are you sure you want to keep playing this game? you know who’s the more patient one in this relationship… you’re all tied up and i’m free to do this all day if i wanted to. i wouldn’t mind — it would be a good way to spend my day off.”

eyes teary, teeth gnawing on your lip, you bucked your hips as his finger touched the swollen nerves directly this time, "s-shut up...! you’re so- ugh! if you’re gonna be so cruel then don’t touch me at all!"

your beloved chuckled, dragging his digits up and down in the same teasing motion, playing with your sensitivity with a touch that sent you teetering to heaven but bordering to hell with how tortuously slow it was. he was a master as you were a slave to pleasure; your moans ramping up into wounded desperation just as he guided you back into the tightrope of lust, spiraling into the ecstasy you so desperately sought. you sobbed and trembled; heart beating loudly in your ears. you were so helplessly pent-up, so deliciously close-

“beg.”

the devil’s voice entered your ears and you grit your teeth. he wouldn’t, right? not for the third time. no, he wasn’t that despicable, he wouldn’t. he’ll give it to you, he’s-

“beg.”

the pressure lightened, and you inhaled sharply.

“please!” the word fell from your lips before you could stop them, “i need- i want…!”

your boyfriend stopped, a trail of your slick followed his appendages’ ascent as he withdrew to appreciate the stream of glistening slick coating your tender pussy and how your hips canted, trying to guilelessly chase his touch, throat singing a needy whine that sounded so beautiful he was almost tempted to keep denying your release for the next hour.

“haitham, please, please!” you sounded so high-pitched and so utterly adorable, he couldn’t help but place a peck on your thigh. tears of relief joined your tears of pleasure as you saw his pleased smile and the way he complied with your begging, though it still wasn’t enough.

“yes? don’t just call my name, darling. elaborate. go on, you can do it,” he carried on with the slow circles around your throbbing clit, fingers barely pumping into your drooling cunt.

“please! i can’t take it anymore…!" you hiccuped, keening, abdomen twitching, so sensitive that the slightest touch was making you toe on the brink of insanity.

al haitham smirked wickedly, watching as your mind and body were losing that self-control, your hips rocking back and forth while your face and eyes colored with pleasure. breathing in disarray, body a quivering mess, he almost wished he had a kamera to immortalize this perverse scene.

“are you asking me to help you release?”

“b-begging! i’m begging you- please let me cum!” you were definitely on the edge, shuddering, legs trying to flail against the tight bondage. a pleased groan rumbled in his throat, and his hand finally reverted into the pace and motions that made you see stars.

“louder,” a command.

“please help me cum!!!”

your muscles tensed as you tasted the precipice of bliss, your lips babbling, chanting his name and a series of undignified pleadings that implored him to not stop this time. you received an approving hum for your clear show of subservience and a soft peck on your cheek that made you moan in appreciation.

“i hope you didn’t forget what i said earlier,” he whispered against your ear, sultry and littered with hidden mischievous intent that you completely missed, too focused on reaching that high with each flick of his wrist and with each pressing prod of his finger—

the expertly placed thrust onto your g-spot was the cause of your crumble into depravity; walls sucking him in as your back arched in your climax. lips open in a silent scream, you missed the adoring look of your lover as he watched you spiral into bliss.

ah, your blissful ignorance is always so, so delicious to see.

before you could even start to wind down from your intense release, the sinful appendages picked up their salacious endeavors once more, three of them stirring your sopping wet mess and massaging your sweet spot relentlessly. al haitham’s mouth latched on your swollen bundle, his tongue flicking and sucking in turn, savoring your sweet taste and basking in your erotic cries that followed.

“can’t! can’t- too much! h-ah-ngh-!”

he ignored your feeble protests in favor of focusing on the task at hand; tongue lapping on the copious juices dribbling out of you as he pumped the slender fingers right onto your sensitive pussy’s weak spot. the sounds of your wetness echoed indecently in the room, a lewd orchestration of sensuality accompanied by your reprehensible babbling.

the second orgasm crashed against your senses and you sobbed, whining and jolting as he helped you ride it to your most satisfaction. eyes rolling, you barely registered the way he lapped at your juices like a man starved, before pulling back to observe the effect of his unholy actions. and he must have seen something, for when your vision cleared from euphoria, he had taken to caress you once again.

“one more. you can give me one more,” the rasp in his voice sent a jolt of desire in your loins, yet at the same time, the overstimulation had started to settle in. this time, the pleasure made your whole body tremor and for once you had no idea if the straps were a blessing or a curse; your limbs flailed and strained, instinctively writhing at the assault of stimulation.

“f-fuck! oh! a-archons- my love, please!!”

“i told you, didn’t i?” he purred, salacious and mocking, a flicker of red and a sneer, “’if you beg nicely, maybe i’ll allow you to cum. but be warned, you’ll be doing it until i am satisfied.’ well, my love, i am not yet satisfied.”

all senses of modesty had been thrown out of the window at this point. a series of disgraceful noises left your throat, tears running down your temples as you stayed rooted to your spot on the bed, oxytocin flooding your brain and numbing your senses. stringing words proved to be difficult when you were oversensitive and your lover seemed determined to see you mindless and utterly ruined by his touches.

if before, you were a helpless traveler stranded on a desert chasing on the mirage of an oasis, this time you felt like you were drowning in an ocean full of pleasure. all senses submerged in the ruthless waves of unbridled desires that made you both paralyzed and set you aflame.

“look at you,” al haitham's words came out harsh despite having a pleased hum to it as he battered your fleshy nub harder, insistent and undeterred by your unconvincing protests. he smirked, pleased with your cries and senseless noises leaving your lips, free from your brain’s usual filtering. your mind and body were already beyond your control as he slowly edged you closer and closer to that sweet release yet again. “so needy for me. gushing endlessly like you’re in heat.”

he watched you writhe and quake, a sliver of drool escaping the side of your opened mouth, his cock straining against the confines of his pants, but oh, he was enjoying every second of it. his free hand palmed your thigh before delivering a light slap, his eyes dilating when it made your breath hitch and your body jerk. each impact brought you to the absolute edge of delirium, and every time the pads of his fingers grind and stretched your gummy walls, the more debauched pleas left your emptied mind.

“c-cumming! cumming! i’m close, love, please! i’m- ah—”

“good,” it was almost sadistic, how he seemed to take so much satisfaction from seeing you so shamefully addicted to his mere fingers, “then come.”

a choked sob and a few insistent taps onto your oversensitive clit took your vision into a realm of whites. your finish was immaculately designed to enrapture you in a burst of nothingness, where nothing else mattered but you and your boyfriend's eloquent expertise. ears ringing, your consciousness temporarily froze in the state of heavenly rapture.

when you came down from the vivid paradise, you found your limbs freed from the restraints, your lover dutifully checking the reddened skin to make sure you hadn’t caused any injuries to yourself. seeing your glazed eyes settling onto his form, he leaned over and stroked your cheek, speaking in a soft voice with a caring tone far too detached from the demeaning and authoritative tone just moments ago.

“you did so well.”

though your senses were totally fried from the overstimulation and you still couldn’t exactly feel your limbs, a loopy grin spread on your lips. soft pair of green eyes watched you in adoration as he tucked you onto his chest, a gentle kiss descending on top of your head as he cradled you within his arms.

“verdict from one to ten?”

“mmmm…. twenty.”

“hm. it appears you’re still more delirious than i judged.”

a playful swat to his side was all you could manage, and you were rewarded with the rare soft laugh of your usually stoic lover.

“you’re adorable.”

“and you’re mean.”

“you speak as if the attitude does not bring you joy.”

“shut up and cuddle me.”

“ordering me around on my birthday? you’re spoiled.”

“and whose fault is that?”

“mine,” al haitham admitted with a smile, silently grateful for your presence, your witty banter, your hardheadedness, your loving eyes, your everything — you, who were undoubtedly and indubitably….

“mine,” he repeated and pressed another kiss, this time to your lips: a silent promise for spending his next birthdays with you once again.

bonus:

“still,” you sighed into his hold as your breathing steadied, looking up at him in half curiosity and half concern, “this doesn’t seem like a birthday present for you.”

al haitham looked down at you, the mischievous glint in his eyes returning. he guided your hand, and your small daydream of him being unusually romantic to initiate hand holding before spewing some cheesy lines like in those light novels were dashed when you found a familiar hardness twitching against your palm.

“bold of you to you think that my appetizer was the main course.”

#genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham #genshin impact x reader #rin writes #minors dni

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celaenaeiln · 8 months

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thinking about some quotes i’ve read and i wanna hear your thoughts on them because i have a lot and i don’t know what to do with them.

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

“So, having said all that, it is a few but definitely significant words that fill the contingency plan on Nightwing in case the hero of Bludhaven ever turns to the dark side. Let's hope that never happens.”

YESSSSS

“the day Dick Grayson turns evil is the day the universe ends, not because that day will never come but because the boy will make it come”

This is the truest fact I've ever heard because this is really canon.

Word for word this happened.

In one of the canon timelines Clark laser blasted Bruce under mind control.

And oh how Dick took over. You know what Luthor says?

"After all, as I've heard your father [Dick] so often quoted, 'we make the hardest decisions for those we care about the most.' Well, in his case...that has meant remaking the world."

This man has the power to single-handedly control the fate of the world.

Whatever he wants, he will make it happen.

The entirety of the justice league, all the metas, heroes, and villains too stood no chance against him.

DC vs Vampires

“Dick Grayson isn’t the universal constant of good. Dick Grayson is the universal constant of competence”

I think it's true.

Nightwing is one of the most formidable figures in DC, without fail consistently coming out on top, so if Superman is iterating that Dick's personality and essence of being is the same, then there's really no room for disagreement.

But more truly, I think he is a Nexus.

By Marvel's definition, "Nexus Beings are rare individual entities with the ability to affect probability and thus the future, thereby altering the flow of the Universal Time Stream. These beings, each referred to as a nexus, act as the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

That means that the universe hinges on the actions of Dick Grayson.

Not only does he control the fate of the world but his mere existence determines what will become of it by other people:

I'd like to reiterate that Neux Beings are "the keystones of the Multiverse and are crucial to its ultimate coherence and stability."

You can still be a nexus if you turn dark. For example Lore was a dark version of Wanda Maximoff but she is still considered a nexus. So you're right in saying that Dick Grayson is a multiuniversal constant of competence.

In the easiest terms as someone put it, "hope he fucks up" is Bruce's only contingency plan against Nightwing. The man doesn't have a clear plan how to neutralize Nightwing.

His exact words are: "As a result of overanalyzing any situation, this allows Dick Grayson to overconfident and misdirected. This will make himself open to a second attack."

So the plan is basically 'Dick is too smart for his own good so we'll have to go with a lucky surprise attack.' He's literally saying 'yupppp. Let's just hope he messed up because there's nothing we can do on ouR end.' Note that Bruce doesn't even have a back up like 'the second attack didn't work? we're fucked.'

For everyone else he actually has a coherent plan in mind- do this and they will fall. But for Dick? 'I hope he messes up enough for a second attack to actually stick. Otherwise we're shit out of luck. And lives. Fingers crossed he doesn't jump to the bad side.'

Tim also confirmed he would never make a contingency plan for Dick. The only person in the world he wouldn't do one for.

He's just that formidable of a man. Even now he can easily take down the Justice League if he wanted to.

And we know that Dick has one of the strongest wills on the planet.

"I have my enhancements. I have powers. Dick Grayson...what do you have?"

A world where Dick loses his emotions is a world that would not survive.

#canon #dick grayson #nightwing #bruce wayne #batman #clark kent #superman #midnighter #batfamily #dc comics #thanks for the ask!#tiger #cl anon asks

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charmedreincarnation · 3 months

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Let me share you some examples of people outside of a spiritual realm using the law of consciousness. Reading about placebo opened my eyes to realize whether I believe it or not, use it or not, it is always operating.

1. During wartime, particularly in World War II, when medical supplies were limited, the use of a saline solution as a placebo became prevalent. One notable figure associated with this practice is Henry Beecher, a medic during the war. When morphine, a powerful painkiller, was scarce, Beecher resorted to injecting injured soldiers with a saline solution (a mixture of salt and water) as a substitute.The fascinating observation was that many soldiers responded positively to the saline placebo, reporting a reduction in pain. Beecher’s experience led him to further investigate what is now known as the placebo effect. He discovered that even inert substances like saline could elicit a therapeutic response in individuals, highlighting the power of belief and the mind’s influence on healing. Using saline as a placebo during wartime was a practical solution to address the scarcity of medical resources. It allowed healthcare providers to provide some form of treatment while conserving limited supplies for critical cases. The phenomenon observed in these wartime placebo administrations contributed to our understanding of the placebo effect and its role in medical practices.

2. And then there was another placebo test done with surgeries demonstrated the power of the placebo effect in the context of surgical interventions for knee pain.

The study, often referred to as the “fake leg surgery” study, focused on patients with osteoarthritis in the knee. Participants were randomly assigned to either receive real arthroscopic surgery or undergo a sham procedure where no actual surgical intervention took place. The sham surgery involved making small incisions and mimicking the actions and sounds associated with the actual procedure.The surprising finding was that both groups, those who underwent real surgery and those who had the sham surgery, reported similar improvements in their knee pain and functionality. This suggested that the positive outcomes experienced by the participants were not necessarily due to the physical intervention but rather to psychological factors such as the placebo effect.

3. The most fascinating one was this one: The study aimed to explore the role of mindset in reversing some aspects of aging.

In this experiment, Langer and her team created a simulated environment reminiscent of the 1950s to immerse a group of elderly participants. The participants were instructed to act as though they were 20 years younger and encouraged to engage in activities that required physical and mental activity. It aimed to create an atmosphere where the participants felt as if they were stepping back in time.The results of the experiment were described as astonishing. Participants reportedly experienced improvements in various areas, including physical health, cognition, and overall well-being. The study suggested that by changing one’s mindset and engaging in an environment that challenges typical aging stereotypes, individuals may experience positive effects on various aspects of their lives.

4. The Man Who Overdosed on Placebo" is a story about a 26-year-old man, often referred to as "Mr. A," who was part of a clinical trial for an antidepressant drug. In a desperate state of mind, he attempted suicide by ingesting 29 capsules of what he believed to be the experimental drug. This act was triggered by his depression, which had worsened after a breakup with his girlfriend.

However, unbeknownst to him, the pills he had taken were not the actual antidepressant, but rather placebos - essentially inert substances, often sugar pills, used in clinical trials as a control group. Despite this, Mr. A's vitals showed alarming signs similar to those of a drug overdose, reflecting the power of belief over the physical body, a phenomenon known as the "nocebo effect."

The nocebo effect is essentially the evil twin of the placebo effect. While the placebo effect can lead to improvements in health due to positive expectations, the nocebo effect can cause negative symptoms or even exacerbate existing ones due to negative expectations. In this case, Mr. A exhibited symptoms of an overdose solely because he believed he had taken an overdose.

5. Sam Londe, is one of the best but sad classic example of the nocebo effect, as detailed in Dr. Joe Dispenza's book "You Are the Placebo."

Sam Londe was diagnosed with esophageal cancer, a condition known for its grim prognosis. His doctors informed him that he didn't have much time left to live. Accepting this diagnosis, Londe quickly became bedridden and his health deteriorated rapidly, following the trajectory his doctors had predicted.However, upon his death, an autopsy revealed a surprising fact: there was not enough cancer in his body to have caused his death. The small tumor in his esophagus was not large enough or in a position to interfere with his swallowing or breathing. Essentially, Londe didn't die from cancer; he died from believing he was dying of cancer.

This case demonstrates the power of the mind over the body, both positively (the placebo effect) and negatively (the nocebo effect). In this case, Londe's negative beliefs about his prognosis led to physical symptoms and ultimately his death.

I've seen dozens of examples where of stuff like this particularly in the realms of hexing and witchcraft. Honestly, the same could probably be said about subliminals. But it doesn't matter much.Why? Because they work. It's all about observation and choice. You could say it’s the mind but the mind operates on logic. This goes beyond the mind and to your true being, what observes the mind observing the pain in the first place.

Actually I was talking to someone who had been struggling with shifting for a while about this and it really resonated with her which is why I decided to share it. She took a water bottle, labeled it shifting juice and just assumed that when she finishes the bottle she has “full access to shifting powers” is that how it works. Nope. Did she shift after two years of struggling. Yep. It doesn’t matter what story you create yourself whether you want to use logic or not whatever you assume and persist in and know as a fact will harden into truth and therefore reality.I just wanted to share this story bc I find it absolutely hilarious how we sometimes take it so seriously yet it can be so easy. I know placebo is just an assumption. It’s like when you tell children you checked under their bed for the monsters and drafted them and they assume so so they can sleep soundly at night. Call it whatever you want assumption, placebo, it’s all just words and each community calls it something different but at the end of the day it works wether you know the truth behind it or not.

#law of assumption #manifesation #reality shifting

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whereireid · 1 year

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𝐃𝐔𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆 | masterlist

pairing: patrick bateman x fem!reader

Summary: Patrick's tense. You know better than to push your luck when he's this stressed, but luckily, he lets you walk a thin line.

— warnings: fluff, mentions of a knife

The air is thick with tension. You can practically feel the stress rolling off of Patrick’s shoulders as he tries to keep level-headed, the sound of a sharp knife slicing through an apple echoing around his contemporary apartment.

You daren’t say anything. It’s bad enough that you’re wearing his navy-blue Armani sweater that you snagged from his closet in an attempt to feel closer to him when he was at work. You were only confident enough to steal it because you’d expected him to come back home in a good mood.

The past few days, he's had a pip in his step. You assume it's something to do with the roaring economy and the surplus number of new clients he'd been getting as a result.

By now, you should know better than to assume that Patrick is going to have a positive state of mind.

Your eyes flicker over to your fiancé, your throat tight as you drink in his frustrated appearance. His shoulders are tight and rigid, and he strains his neck to get a better look of the fruit, a low huff sliding past his lips. The knife is so sharp, and your skin prickles with goosebumps as you see it glisten under the white florescent kitchen lights. You take a hesitant step forward, your heart pitter-pattering in your chest as Patrick grumbles incoherently, his knife slicing through the tough flesh of the apple easily.

“Patrick?” you mumble, your fingers darting across his clothed back, your stomach twisting with nerves as you feel him tense under your touch. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” he says, his body still under your touch. “Please let go of me, honey. I’m not in the mood.”

You really should listen to his warning. After all, he’s not known to be the kindest person when he’s irritated, but you ignore him, instead wrapping your arms around his waist, gently pressing your head into his back.

A sharp intake of breath makes you flinch. Patrick’s grip on the base of the knife is so tight that his knuckles are beginning to grow white, and you try to calm the fear that prickles at the back of your neck as his stomach tenses under the palm of your hand. You can feel how hard and trained his abs are, and the muscles ripple underneath you as you slide your hand over them, feeling every individual dip and crevice of the muscles.

“Missed you today,” you mumble, careful not to crease the back of his shirt as you press against him, taking a hearty sniff of his cologne. “Any new investors?”

Patrick stays rigid under your touch. “Five,” he utters, his voice rumbling in his chest.

You hum, the ghost of a smile peppering your lips as you squeeze him. Patrick isn’t relaxing into your touch, but he’s not pushing you away, either. You take it as a half-hearted sign. He’s not big on psychical touch, and the fact he’s letting you get away with this much is surprising.

His grip on the knife is looser than it was moments beforehand, and you smile as you feel his shoulders slack slightly. He makes sure to control his breathing, keeping it even and steady, though you feel the rapid beating of his heart as you cuddle into his back. Patrick allows you to embrace him, his jaw ticking as you do so, irritation rolling off of him in a delicate wave.

“Honey,” he says, breathing in deeply, his muscles flexing as you splay your fingers over his stomach. His voice sharp is sharp and it drips with warning as he chides, “let go of me.”

The absence of a ‘please’ has you reeling off of him quickly, and you flush as he turns to face you, his grip on base of the blade tight. Hints of stubble ghost Patrick’s cheek, his jaw clenching as he stares down at you, his brows knitted together as he lets out a deep breath.

Fear pulses through you at his cold tone, and you mumble, “Patrick—”

“—Go and draw yourself a bath. I’ll join you when I’m finished.”

Patrick’s voice is sultry and calm, but his intense grip on the base of the blade has your heart fluttering in your chest. His temper is extremely thin, and usually you’re not daring enough to toe the line, but you’d just missed him so much that you just had to interrupt his routine.

You feel awkward under his heated gaze, and suddenly you’re the one whose tense. Despite his disapproval of your affection, Patrick seems to have relaxed, the only hint of his lingering frustration being his white knuckles from his tight grip.

“Okay,” you whisper, shuffling past him, rigid as you do so, unable to focus under his heated gaze. “Will you be long?”

“Make sure that my robe is in there, ready for when I get out,” he says, ignoring your question. He returns to his previous stance, angling the knife in his hand and beginning to glide the blade through the flesh of the apple, his jaw clenching as he cuts the fruit into even slices.

His robe is authentic Versace, a gift that you'd gotten him for his birthday last year. It’s soft in your hands, and you breathe in its musky scent, your heart fluttering in your chest as Patrick’s cologne floods your senses. You hang it over the towel rack, careful not to splash it as you lean over to twist on the tap for the hot water, your mind wandering to how patient he’d been when you grappled onto him, and how downhill it could’ve gone.

The line that Patrick lets you toe is dangerously thin. The kitchen is silent, so quiet that you’d assume it was empty if you weren’t aware of his looming presence, which shadows over you suffocatingly as you attempt to even out the temperature of the bath.

A goofy smile paints your lips as you think back to your arms wrapped around his waist, and how his heart was racing in his chest despite his cold demeanor.

tags: @makeyoumine69

#american psycho #patrick bateman x reader #patrick bateman imagine #patrick bateman #patrick bateman x female reader #patrick bateman x you #slasher x reader #slashers x reader #slasher x you #slasher smut #patrick bateman smut #patrick bateman headcanon #christian bale smut #christian bale x reader #patrick bateman reader #christian bale

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mahoushojo-chan · 6 months

Text

Astarion x Tav || sickfic

can you keep me close? (can you love me most?)

synopsis: her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "you're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

an excerpt of 'cause my love (is mine, all mine)

word count: 1435

pairing: astarion/tav

other tags: f!reader, bard!tav, half-elf!tav, hurt/comfort, sickfic, non-sexual intimacy, romantic tension, friends to lovers, the usual at this point, song inspo: someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic

ao3: here

concept: sickfic!!

Tav isn’t really sure what’s happening.

Actually, the whole past twelve hours have been a little blurry—memories and movements kept blending themselves in a non-cohesive way, she kept forcing her limbs to move but they would trail sluggishly behind, and she isn’t sure where she is right now.

When she feels something cool on her forehead, she finally startles.

Her vision is foggy, but she's fairly certain she can discern an angelic figure by her bedside, radiating a brilliant white or perhaps a gentle golden hue, accentuated by the candlelight in the dim room. Then, the soothing radiance recedes slightly, and the angel utters, "You're an idiot," with a casual air, the words tinged with a devilish tone.

Ah, naturally. She had never expected to receive her very own angel. It seemed more likely that the gods would send an eerie, skeleton-like old codger, draped in tattered robes, who would speak in cryptic riddles to assist her, or a dream guardian that, in reality, turned out to be a peculiar, haughty tentacled creature with aspirations of dominating all other races in the world with mind-controlling parasites.

She squints and blinks repeatedly until Astarion comes into sharper focus. He's seated in a chair, legs crossed, arms folded, and appears quite displeased. She vaguely recollects a caregiver mentioning bringing some medicine, and fervently hopes that her current company isn't the result of that promise. After all, her companion is one of the last individuals she wishes to see right now.

The situation is rather embarrassing. She's cocooned in blankets that are overly warm, her hair is in disarray, she can't quite manage to open her eyes completely, and her muscles are protesting, urging her to remain at rest. She's determined not to let Astarion witness her in this state or feel sorry for her.

Her first instinct is to apologize, especially under his scrutinizing gaze. Instead, she insists, “I’m dying. Can’t you be a little nicer?”

“Oh, goodness me. Perhaps I’ll just leave you to suffer this horrible affliction alone,” he offers, hand on his chest in mock offense as he gets up, pretending to leave.

“Good. You don’t need to take care of me—”

She reaches out for her hat and makes an attempt to rise, but Astarion places his hands on her shoulders, gently guiding her back onto the bed. His touch, once more, carries a soothing coolness, alleviating the hot discomfort and muscle soreness. "Oh, no, no, no. Absolutely not. I am not suffering another heart attack because of everyone’s favourite idiot again," he admonishes her, and she blinks in surprise, as it almost seems like he's expressing genuine concern for her.

“I’m not everyone’s favourite idiot,” she protests, weakly, even as he presses her back into the mattress to lie down.

“No, but you’re mine.” He says, perched on top of her. He's leaning above her now, effectively pinning her to the bed. He senses her slight movement beneath him, though it's hard to discern if she's merely shifting or genuinely attempting to break free, given her frail state.

Nevertheless, he gazes down at her from above, her hair splayed across the pillowcase, her face flushed, eyes half-closed, disheveled clothing, and heavy breaths. He realizes the position he’s in and releases her quickly, flustered. He hides this by opting to fetch a drink of water from his waterskin for her.

“You—you could have said something, you know.” He continues, smoothly. “Before it got this bad.”

“You had other things on your mind. Didn’t want you to worry about me,” she mumbles, but Astarion detects the slight slur in her words. He lifts the glass to her lips, eyes lingering on its shape, and she takes a sip of the cold liquid, letting out a soft moan of relief.

“Don’t want you to get sick, either.” She adds, snapping him out of his reverie.

“Thinking your companion is going to die after they randomly collapse is very worrying, so you know.” Astarion chides, putting away the waterskin. “And also, I’m far too dead to contract such a simple illness. Dalyria says it’s from exhaustion—something you’re suffering from more than me, for once.”

He’s really sure that she’s dying now. She does not retort, and against all odds, it seems that she actually managed to fall asleep again. It makes sense to him that her sickness might be getting slightly worse. When he first touched her forehead, it felt scorching to the touch, and she's now buried beneath several layers of blankets, almost swallowed by the bedding.

Astarion takes in the sorry state of the room. There's a soiled towel nearby with remnants of vomit. He observes her shivering, her clothes clinging to her body, drenched in sweat.

Astarion sets out to gather some supplies—more towels, additional water, and some rations. They were running low on food, but as long as she could sustain herself, he wasn't too concerned.

He watches her as she drifts in and out of consciousness, noting her increasing confusion, likely due to the worsening fever. She mumbles about things he can't quite make out as he settles with a book to keep her company while he monitors her condition.

He glances up from the pages periodically as she rests on the makeshift bed, wrapped in old, dusty blankets. Astarion stokes the nearby fireplace to provide warmth, even though she appears to be sweating profusely, so he's unsure if it's the best idea.

She did seem to be relieved by his touch, though. To check on her condition once more, he reaches out and gently brushes her hair to the side to touch her forehead. She initially flinches, and he moves to withdraw his hand—until she grips his wrist. It’s a feeble hold, but she keeps his hand pressed against her face.

He realizes he doesn’t feel repulsed by her actions at all. It’s true, she’s using him—quite literally, as some sort of relief—but it feels like she needs him in this moment. He can’t pretend not to like the thought of being needed, even wanted by her.

He wonders, as an extension of that line of thought, if he would be okay with kissing her. Reflecting on his past experiences with the drow, he remembers the familiar, lingering disgust and self-hatred that typically arose. However, Tav doesn't evoke any of those emotions within him. His hand drifts, and his thumb traces her bottom lip gently. It's not smooth or plump; it's dry and cracked. Somehow, that makes it feel more authentic, and the question lingers in his mind.

But he doesn’t need that. He can get physical affection from anywhere. He just… likes this. That’s all it is. That’s all it has to be, right? This is rarer—he wouldn’t give this up for the world.

So he doesn’t allow his thoughts to wander beyond that.

But seeing her reluctance to let him go stirs something within him. It’s a tug at the depths of his chest, an undeniable ache. Well, if he could be of help to her like this, then who was he to deny her? After all, it wasn’t as if they hadn’t shared moments like this before.

He proceeds with caution, making every effort to avoid disturbing her as the bed slightly dips underneath his weight. He pulls the blanket over both of them and he draws her near, and she emits a soft sigh as her arms instinctively encircle him, warming his chest.

In the absence of a clock, Astarion loses track of time as he remains in bed beside her. He devotes most of it to observing her, running his fingers through her hair with a gentle touch. It's an act one might do with a lover, although she remains unconscious. He could murmur tender words, and she would remain unaware. Even if she happened to hear, he suspected her current state of mind would prevent her from retaining the information. No, this is for his own solace, and he finds it strangely comforting.

#astarion romance #astarion x tav #baldur's gate 3 #fanfic #bg3 #writing #astarion headcanons #astarion x mc #mutual pining #astarion fic #astarion x reader #astarion ancunin #astarion bg3 #astarion x dark urge #sick fic #mahoufiction #sickfic #fic ideas #writing prompt

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bonefall · 5 months

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So, I'm writing an essay on the whole STATE of misogyny in WC for one of my university classes, and I was wondering if I could ask you a couple of things! No pressure of course, please feel free to say no!

A) Could I reference your good takes with appropriate harvard referencing and links back to your blog?

B) Are there any specific moments from the books that you think should be covered the most?

C) The end result will be a visual essay, so it's like those fun infographics people on Tumblr make on like ADHD and stuff, so when it's done, would you like to be tagged to read it?

(Sorry for anon, I'm nervous lmao, but if you'd be more comfortable I'll resend this off anon)

AAY good topic! You've got a lot to work with. Absolutely feel free to reference anything I've written, and tag me when you're done.

While you're here and about to write something so legitimate, I'm also going to recommend you check out Sunnyfall's video on gender in Warrior Cats. She breaks down the arcs into numbers, directly comparing the amount of lines mollies have to toms, and examining the archetypes women are usually allowed to be.

I think it's a must-have citation in a paper about WC misogyny.

...and, I think it's insightful to look at the WCRP Forum thread about the video. Note how the respondents immediately come into the thread to complain about how the video is too long so they didn't watch it, dismissing Sunnyfall as not being entertaining enough to hold their attention, even whining that she starts with statistics to prove her point, which I'm convinced she did exactly because they would have cried that she "had no evidence" if she didn't.

I am not a scholar, so I don't know how to document or prove that the books have an impact on the audience outside of anecdotes. But I think if you do write a section about fandom, it would be worth mentioning the in-universe and metatextual apologia for Ashfur and its reflection in the real world discourse, the authorial killing of Ferncloud because of fan complains, and the utter defensiveness against the discussion of misogyny you see outside of Tumblr.

You may also want to check out Cheek by Jowl, a collection of 8 essays about sexism in xenofiction by Ursula K. Le Guin. There's a very unique manifestation of authorial bias in animal fiction, having a lot to do with how the author views "the natural world," and it's worth understanding even though Warrior Cats are so heavily anthropomorphized.

So... Warrior Cats Misogyny

I think discussing individual instances can be helpful, but I'd implore you to keep in mind what's REALLY bad about WC's misogyny is framing and the bigger picture.

Bumble's death is shocking and insulting, but it's not just that she died. It's that the POV Gray Wing sees her as a fat, useless bitch who took his mate so she deserves to be dragged back to a domestic abuser, and he's right because the writers love him so much. It's that Bumble's torture and killing only factors into how it's going to hurt a man's reputation.

It's how Clear Sky hitting, emotionally manipulating, or killing the following women,

Bright Stream (pressured into leaving her home and family)

Storm (controlled her movements and yelled at her in public)

Misty (killed for land, children stolen)

Bumble (beaten unconscious, blamed nonsensically on a fox)

Alder (child abuse, hit when she refused to attack her brother)

Falling Feather (scratched on the face, subjected to public abuse and humiliation)

Tall Shadow (thrown into murderous crowd, attacked on-sight in heaven)

Rainswept Flower ("blacked out" in anger and murdered in cold blood)

Moth Flight (scratched on the face for saying denying medical treatment is mean, taken hostage in retaliation against mother for the death of his own child, which he caused)

Willow Tail (eyes gouged out for "stirring up trouble")

Is seen as totally understandable, forgivable, or not even questioned at all, when killing Gray Wing in an act of rage would have been "one step too far" with the ridiculous Star Line.

"Kill me and live with the memory, and then let the stars know it would only matter if a single one of your murder victims was a man."

It's the way that fathers who physically abuse their kids out of their ego (Clear Sky, Sandgorse, Crowfeather) aren't treated anywhere near the same level of narrative disgust and revulsion the series has for "bad moms", even if they're displaying symptoms of a post-partum mood disorder (depression, anxiety, and rage), an umbrella of mental illnesses 20% of all new mothers experience but are heavily stigmatized with (Sparkpelt, Palebird, Lizardstripe).

It's Crookedstar's Promise giving him two evil maternal figures in a single book, while bending over backwards to make every man in a position of power still look likeable in spite of the fact they're enabling Rainflower's abuse. Leader Hailstar is soso sorry that he has to change Stormkit's name for some reason, in spite of leaders being unaccountable dictators the other 99% of the time, and Deputy Shellheart functionally does nothing to stop his own son from being abused or even do much parenting before or after the fact.

It's the way men's parental struggles are seen sympathetically, and they don't have to "pay for it" like their female counterparts (Crookedstar's PPD vs Sparkpelt's PPD, how Daisy and Cinders are held responsible for Smoky and Whisper being deadbeats, Yellowfang's endless guilt for killing her son vs Onestar's purpose in life to kill his own), even to the point where a father doesn't have to have raised their kids at all to have a magical innate emotional connection to them (Tree's father Root, Tom the Wifebeater, Tigerstar and Hawkfrost).

It's less speaking lines and agency for female characters, being reduced to accessories in the lives of their mates and babies, women getting less diversity in their personalities, with even major ex-POV characters eventually becoming "sweet mom" tropes.

You could zoom in on any one of these examples and have an amoeba try to argue with you that "Oh THIS makes sense because X" or "Ah well my headcanon perfectly explains this thing" or "MY mother/girlfriend was abusive/toxic/neglectful and I've decided that you are personally attacking ME by having issues with how a character was written or utilized," but the beleaguered point,

That I keep trying to hammer in, over and over, across books worth of posts,

Is that these are trends. More than just a couple one-off examples. It's the fabric that has been woven over years, showing a lack of interest in, or even active prejudice of, women on behalf of the writers.

LONG STANDING trends, which have only gotten worse as the series progressed. From Yellowfang being harshly punished with a born evil son who ruins her life in TPB and the mistreatment of Squirrelpaw that begins in TNP, all the way up to the 7 Fridgenings of DOTC and Sparkpelt's PPD being a major character motivator for her son Nightheart.

So, I would stress that in your paper, and structure it less as "the Sparkpelt slide" and "the Yellowfang slide," and more as "The paternal vs maternal abuse" slide, and "the violence against women" slide. They're really big issues, there's tons of examples for each individual thing.

Anyway to leave off on a funny, look at this scene in Darkest Hour that I find unreasonably hilarious,

"Everyone who matters to me; my truest friend, my sensible and loyal warrior, the wisest deputy I've ever known, and 2 women." -Firestar, glorious idiot

He can't even think of a single trait for either of them what the hell does "formidable pair" mean lmaooo, when I finished a reread about a year ago this line killed me on impact.

#bone babble #cw misogyny #warrior cats analysis #SO good luck!! Absolutely ping me when you're done I wanna see lmao #Full disclosure I'm bad at responding to DMs because I open them and then forget #But I can try to answer your questions #Feel free to send questions in tho. You don't have to come off anon if you don't want i don't mind #I cannot stress enough. I'm just a guy who likes to yell about cats.

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lakesbian · 1 year

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i really like how worm commits to making superpowered characters weird. i think in most superhero media, superpowered characters are largely distinct, normal individuals with powers tacked on like tools they can use. but in worm, having a power kind of inherently puts you to the left of being entirely human. in worm, the lines between the power and the person are blurred, both literally in terms of how shards work & in terms of how powers present themselves. you can’t have a power without it altering your relationship to your mind and body.

and the “relationship to your body” bit applies to almost all capes, not just the ones who have been physically altered by their powers! whenever the experience of having a (not physically altering) power is described, it‘s phrased as being some sort of additional sense or sensation in a way that is still inextricably connected to the cape’s physical self. imp’s power isn’t just “okay, i’m invisible now,” it’s “i can physically feel my power rolling over my skin and jabbing out into the air to push memories of me away.”

the other examples i specifically have in mind here are skitter and regent. skitter’s power isn’t just “move the bugs and make them bite people,” they’re effectively a part of her. like additional limbs. she keeps functioning in fights when her human body is knocked the fuck out on the ground because the rest of her body--a million other little bodies--is still there to work with. the fact that she has millions of extra eyeballs at any given moment means it’s not actually so bad when the two of them that happen to be physically connected to her human body are blinded, which results in my favorite Worm Out Of Context ever:

and regent has one of my favorite subtle, uncanny examples of a power that seems like it shouldn’t alter the power-haver’s connection to their own body, but does anyway. in alec’s interlude, while he’s puppeting sophia, there’s a point where the undersiders get far away enough from her that it makes it more difficult for him to control her. he starts struggling to coordinate her movements.

the uncanny part is that he starts struggling to control his own body’s movements, as well. he puts his alec-self’s earbuds in so that he doesn’t have to talk to anyone, because he knows that if he did speak, he’d start stuttering and slurring his words from loss of physical control. sure, his alec-self is the body he’ll end up in when he’s done using his power, and his sophia-self was taken by force, so there’s obviously a distinction between the two, but that doesn’t make his alec-self easier to control. his power implicitly calls the separation between himself and the people he’s puppeting into question. he doesn’t get to have a “main” body he can control without effort, he has to divide his attention between each body and put concentration into moving each of them. in that way, his own body is placed in the same category as the bodies he’s hijacked. it’s Weird!

#worm #parahumans #scarf don't look #<- 4 the sake of my beloved scarlingdarling who will read worm soon #ham don't look #<- 4 the sake of my beloved hammietha who will read worm also #carefully controlling the narrative on ham's awareness of worm.#she knows abt jesus but she does not know that jesus starts getting real cute w/ it.#The Shitheads #worm spoilers

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princess-sof-time · 10 months

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Hi I Can Ask Marinette, Adrien, Felix, Luka, Alya And Kyoko With A Male S/O Using Their Miraculous.

How would they react to the fact that the transformation left a very provocative costume leaving a good part of the skin exposed?

How would they deal with the fact that the S/O is much more skilled and stronger when using the Miraculous than they are, to the point of being able to use it infinite times without detransforming?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

🄼🄰🅁🄸🄽🄴🅃🅃🄴 🄳🅄🄿🄰🄸🄽-🄲🄷🄴🄽🄶

• Marinette, known for her fashion-conscious nature, would indeed be initially taken aback by the revealing costume that her male S/O's transformation creates. As a designer and someone who pays attention to modesty and practicality, she might feel a mix of surprise and concern regarding the outfit's suitability for crime-fighting. The revealing nature of the costume might not align with Marinette's sense of fashion and her desire to create outfits that are both stylish and functional.

• However, being a compassionate and open-minded person, Marinette would quickly remind herself that the transformation and the resulting costume are a direct consequence of the Miraculous powers. She would understand that her S/O doesn't have control over the design and appearance of the costume, and she wouldn't judge them solely based on their outward appearance. Marinette would recognize that their true value lies in their actions, character, and the virtues they display while using their Miraculous.

• Marinette would take the opportunity to have an open and honest conversation with her S/O about their feelings regarding the costume. She would assure them that she understands their concerns and that she values their comfort and well-being. Together, they would brainstorm ideas to modify and improve the costume, finding ways to make it more practical, functional, and aligned with their personal preferences.

• Furthermore, when Marinette realizes that her S/O is more skilled and stronger with the Miraculous than she is, she might initially experience a sense of inadequacy. As a determined and ambitious individual, she might question her own abilities and feel a tinge of self-doubt. However, Marinette's innate strength lies in her resilience and ability to turn challenges into opportunities for growth.

• Rather than being intimidated or threatened by her S/O's skills, Marinette would choose to embrace their strengths and view it as a chance to learn from them. She would recognize the potential for their partnership to become even more effective and powerful with their combined abilities. Marinette's dedication to justice and her sense of responsibility would motivate her to support her S/O in any way she can.

• Marinette would actively collaborate with her S/O, pooling their strengths and expertise to develop new strategies, tools, and gadgets that can enhance their crime-fighting efforts. She would involve herself deeply in their training, seeking to improve her own skills while also providing a supportive and encouraging environment for her S/O to flourish. Together, they would become a formidable team, combining their unique talents and perspectives to protect their city.

• Throughout their journey, Marinette's unwavering belief in the power of teamwork and her dedication to upholding justice would shine through. She would continuously inspire and uplift her S/O, appreciating the growth they bring to the table and reminding them of their importance in their shared mission.

• In the end, Marinette's willingness to adapt, learn, and support her S/O would not only strengthen their relationship but also lead to even greater achievements in their fight against evil.

🄰🄳🅁🄸🄴🄽 🄰🄶🅁🄴🅂🅃🄴

• Adrien, renowned for his reserved and polite demeanor, would undoubtedly be taken by surprise when confronted with the revealing costume his male S/O's transformation creates. As a fashion-conscious individual himself, he would find it challenging to reconcile the provocative nature of the outfit with his own modest and refined style. The sudden contrast might momentarily cause Adrien to feel self-conscious and uncertain about how to react.

• However, Adrien's compassionate and understanding nature would quickly prevail as he reminds himself that the costume is simply a consequence of the Miraculous' powers and not a reflection of his S/O's character. He would actively choose to focus on the person behind the costume, valuing their bravery, dedication, and selflessness as a hero. Adrien would see beyond the superficial appearance and recognize that his S/O's true worth lies in their actions and the goodness of their heart.

• Upon discovering that his S/O is more skilled and powerful with the Miraculous, Adrien would experience a mix of surprise, admiration, and perhaps a slight blow to his ego. As someone who has trained extensively to become a competent hero, it may initially challenge his perception of himself and his abilities. However, Adrien's kind and supportive nature would swiftly override any negative feelings, and he would wholeheartedly embrace his S/O's prowess.

• Rather than feeling threatened or jealous, Adrien would view his S/O's enhanced abilities as a valuable asset to their partnership and the entire team. He would find genuine joy and excitement in learning from their expertise, appreciating the opportunity to grow as a hero alongside them. Adrien's innate humility would enable him to set aside any ego-driven concerns and prioritize his S/O's success and well-being during their heroic endeavors.

• Adrien's admiration for his S/O's abilities would shine through his unwavering encouragement and support. He would be their biggest cheerleader, always celebrating their achievements and providing a constant source of motivation. Adrien's eagerness to learn from their skills and experiences would create a strong bond of trust and collaboration between them. Together, they would explore new strategies, combining their unique perspectives and strengths to devise effective plans.

• Adrien's dedication to his S/O's safety and well-being would be unwavering. He would go above and beyond to ensure their protection during missions, always keeping a watchful eye and stepping in whenever necessary. Adrien's natural instinct to prioritize the needs of others would extend to his S/O, fostering an environment of trust and dependability.

• In the end, Adrien's growth as a hero and as a person would be shaped by his S/O's influence. Their partnership would become a source of inspiration for both of them, allowing them to exceed their individual limits and achieve greater heights together. Adrien's kind-hearted nature, coupled with his willingness to learn and support his S/O, would make their bond unbreakable and their heroics all the more impactful.

🄵🄴🄻🄸🅇 🄵🄰🅃🄷🄾🄼

• Felix, known for his reserved and serious demeanor, would indeed be visibly taken aback by the provocative costume that his male S/O's transformation creates. As someone who values propriety and modesty, he would find it challenging to accept the revealing nature of the outfit. Felix might struggle to conceal his discomfort, his stoic facade briefly faltering as he grapples with the unexpected nature of the transformation.

• However, as Felix grows closer to his S/O and witnesses their heroic efforts firsthand, he would gradually come to understand that appearances are not everything. He would begin to appreciate their bravery, dedication, and the selflessness with which they approach their role as a hero. Felix would realize that their actions and intentions matter more than their attire, and he would shift his focus to what truly defines them as a person.

• In time, Felix would learn to look beyond the costume and see the virtues that lie within his S/O. He would appreciate their unwavering commitment to protecting others, recognizing that their strength and bravery come from within, rather than the clothing they wear. Felix's perception would evolve, allowing him to value their character and the sacrifices they make to keep their city safe.

• Discovering that his S/O is more skilled and powerful with the Miraculous might trigger a mix of emotions in Felix. On one hand, his competitive nature might ignite a sense of rivalry or even a tinge of inadequacy. As someone who takes pride in his own abilities, it could be challenging for him to accept that his S/O surpasses him in certain aspects.

• However, Felix's admiration for their abilities would gradually overshadow any negative feelings. He would come to appreciate their talents and the unique strengths they bring to the team. Felix would recognize that the success of their missions relies on collaboration and a shared goal rather than individual achievements. He would find solace in focusing on his own unique strengths and contributions, knowing that he has an important role to play in their partnership.

• Although Felix might be reserved in expressing his admiration and support, he would quietly learn from his S/O's expertise. He would observe their techniques, strategies, and decision-making, seeking to improve his own skills through their example. Felix would work alongside them, ensuring the safety and success of their missions, using their differences as a way to complement and strengthen their teamwork.

• While he may not openly express his admiration, Felix's actions would speak volumes. He would prioritize their well-being and lend his unwavering support, even if it means taking a step back and letting his S/O take the lead. Felix's steadfast dedication and determination to protect their city would align with his S/O's own resolve, forging a powerful and effective partnership.

• In the end, Felix's growth and acceptance would not only strengthen his bond with his S/O but also contribute to their shared success as heroes. Together, they would overcome obstacles, learn from one another, and ultimately inspire those around them with their unwavering commitment to justice.

🄻🅄🄺🄰 🄲🄾🅄🄵🄵🄰🄸🄽🄴

• Luka, known for his calm and empathetic nature, would readily accept the provocative costume that his male S/O's transformation creates. Understanding that it is a direct result of the Miraculous' powers, Luka would see beyond the outfit and perceive the true character and intentions of his S/O. He would be quick to offer reassurance and emotional support, reminding them that their worth extends far beyond their appearance and lies in their actions and the goodness in their heart.

• Luka's unwavering belief in the power of inner beauty and the strength of one's character would help him navigate any initial surprise or discomfort caused by the revealing costume. He would prioritize understanding and appreciating his S/O for who they truly are, rather than judging them based on their outward appearance. Luka would remind his S/O that their actions as a hero, their selflessness, and their determination to protect others are what truly define them.

• Discovering that his S/O is more skilled and powerful with the Miraculous than he is would genuinely impress and inspire Luka. He would feel a deep sense of pride in his S/O's abilities and strengths, recognizing them as an inspiration and a valuable asset to their crime-fighting team. Instead of feeling threatened or insecure about his own capabilities, Luka would embrace the opportunity to learn from his S/O and grow alongside them.

• Luka's genuine humility and open-mindedness would enable him to appreciate his S/O's guidance and expertise in using the Miraculous effectively. He would eagerly seek their advice and willingly incorporate their insights into their crime-fighting strategies. Luka's receptive nature and genuine enthusiasm for learning would create a harmonious dynamic where they both benefit from each other's knowledge and experience.

• O apoio de Luka a seu S/O seria inabalável. Ele os animaria de todo o coração e celebraria suas conquistas, reconhecendo que seu sucesso contribui para um bem maior. O incentivo gentil de Luka e a crença inabalável nas habilidades de seu S/O criariam um ambiente de confiança e confiança, permitindo que eles prosperassem como uma equipe.

• In the face of any challenges or setbacks, Luka would be a pillar of support, offering his understanding and empathy. He would be there to provide emotional reassurance and comfort, reminding his S/O that their worth goes beyond their skills and achievements. Luka's calming presence and empathetic nature would help alleviate any pressure or self-doubt they may feel, allowing them to regain their focus and continue their heroic journey.

• Ultimately, Luka's relationship with his S/O would be characterized by a deep sense of mutual respect, admiration, and growth. Their bond would strengthen as they face challenges together, with Luka's gentle nature and unwavering support serving as a foundation for their shared experiences. Together, they would form an unstoppable team, embodying the true essence of heroism and making a positive impact on the world around them.

🄰🄻🅈🄰 🄲🄴🅂🄰🄸🅁🄴

• Alya, known for her insatiable curiosity and adventurous spirit, would undoubtedly have an initial reaction of excitement and fascination towards the provocative costume that her male S/O's transformation creates. As someone with a keen eye for fashion and a love for all things unique and eye-catching, Alya would appreciate the boldness and individuality of the outfit. She would recognize its potential to capture attention and spark conversations, making her S/O stand out among other heroes.

• However, being a responsible journalist and a carin girlfriend, Alya's enthusiasm would be tempered by her practicality and concern for her S/O's well-being. She would consider the practicality and safety of the costume, ensuring that it allows for ease of movement and protects her S/O during their crime-fighting activities. Alya would collaborate with her S/O to make any necessary modifications or enhancements to the outfit, ensuring their comfort and security while still maintaining its unique appeal.

• Discovering that her male S/O is more skilled and powerful with the Miraculous than she is would initially surprise Alya. However, being the supportive and encouraging friend that she is, Alya would quickly recognize and appreciate the value in their abilities. Rather than feeling threatened or jealous, she would enthusiastically cheer for her S/O, genuinely proud of their accomplishments and talents. Alya's natural curiosity would kick in, and she would seize the opportunity to learn from her S/O, eagerly seeking their guidance and expertise in using the Miraculous effectively. She would see their partnership as a chance for mutual growth, viewing it as a collaborative effort where they can share their knowledge and experiences to become even more formidable heroes.

• As the owner of the Ladyblog, Alya would also use her platform to showcase and celebrate her S/O's incredible talent. She would document their heroic journey, highlighting their achievements, and sharing their stories with the world. Alya's passion for journalism and her commitment to truth and justice would drive her to create impactful and inspiring content that not only informs but also motivates others to take action.

• In summary, Alya's initial excitement and fascination towards the provocative costume would be tempered by her responsible and caring nature. She would prioritize the practicality and safety of the outfit, ensuring her S/O's comfort and protection during their superhero activities. Discovering her S/O's superior skills with the Miraculous would not dampen her spirits but rather fuel her enthusiasm to learn from them and improve her own abilities. Alya's support and dedication to their partnership would be unwavering, as she sees it as an opportunity for growth and collaboration. Through her work at Ladyblog, she would amplify their achievements, using her platform to inspire others and create a greater impact in the world of heroes.

🄺🅈🄾🄺🄾 🅃🅂🅄🅁🅄🄶🄸

• Kyoko, known for her disciplined and competitive nature, would undoubtedly be taken aback by the provocative costume that her male S/O's transformation creates. With a strong sense of modesty and a preference for more conservative attire, she would find it challenging to accept the revealing nature of the outfit. It would contradict her own personal style and sense of decorum. Kagami might initially struggle to reconcile her values with the costume's design.

• However, being someone who highly values strength, skill, and dedication to justice, Kyoko would quickly recognize and appreciate the abilities of her S/O. Despite her initial reservations about the costume, she would respect and admire her S/O's commitment to their role as a hero. She would see beyond the external appearance and focus on their character and actions, acknowledging the bravery and skill that lie beneath the costume.

• Discovering that her male S/O is more skilled and powerful with the Miraculous might trigger a mix of emotions in Kyoko. On one hand, her competitive nature might ignite a sense of rivalry and a desire to improve her own abilities. She would see their superior skills as a challenge and a motivation to push herself further. Kagami's determination and relentless pursuit of excellence would drive her to train harder, seeking to match and even surpass her S/O's level of skill and strength.

• On the other hand, Kyoko would also possess the maturity and wisdom to acknowledge and respect her S/O's expertise. She would recognize the value of their abilities and view them as a valuable ally rather than a threat. Kyoko would eagerly strive to learn from her S/O, taking every opportunity to train alongside them and absorb their knowledge and techniques. She would see their partnership as a chance for mutual growth, understanding that they can push each other to reach new heights.

• Despite any feelings of competition, Kyoko would wholeheartedly support her S/O. She would be their biggest cheerleader and advocate, offering encouragement and praise for their accomplishments. Kagami's loyalty and dedication would extend beyond the training sessions, as she would stand by her S/O's side during their heroic endeavors, ensuring their safety and success.

• In summary, Kyoko initial reservations about the provocative costume would stem from her strong sense of modesty. However, her admiration for strength and skill would lead her to appreciate her S/O's abilities and dedication to justice. The discovery of her S/O's superior skills with the Miraculous would trigger a mix of competitive drive and respect. Kagami would use this opportunity as a motivation to improve herself, while also recognizing the value of her S/O's expertise and viewing them as an important ally. Through their partnership, Kagami would strive for mutual growth and support her S/O wholeheartedly, both in training and in their heroic pursuits.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ──────

#miraculous x reader #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette x reader #adrien agreste x reader #luka couffaine x reader #alya cesaire x reader #kyoko tsurugi x reader #felix fathom x reader

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writingforatwistedworld · 10 months

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Another bread era?

Otome au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsession, possessiveness, stalking, threats, death, murder

Malleus Draconia/Lilia Vanrouge-“I’m gonna take your bread sir… let me take your bread SIR SIR STOP WALKING AWAY FROM ME SIR!!!??”

Malleus Draconia, the hidden king behind the roses, a legend who even the highest of kings and queens whisper in fear about... is holding back a laugh from watching you

Ok, to be fair, you can only do so much as a ruler of a Kingdom which has been isolated from the others for so long which probably also resulted him in being a bit (or maybe a lot more than a bit) for social interactions

Malleus adores you to a level which is incomprehensible for the ordinary human mind. Heck, most likely for any mind

Yet his most beloved is at the moment pretty much the opposite of him. Most unelegant they screamed at the poor bakers of the Queendom of Roses for their bread

Not like those humans, pardon, NPCs could hear you but it was a rather silly sight to see you sprinting up to the next person like you were possessed and demanding their bread

Could it be that there was a famine that led to you now demanding the food of others? But why especially bread? (I am not joking he is seriously asking himself that)

After sending Lilia out to check, just to be sure, he finally found out that no, you are not on the path of starvation, you are just silly

Might as well enjoy the show then. It's not every day that you see an otherworldly bring controlling a body being this interesting... not like he had seen another bodysnatcher like you before

When he noticed the havoc you caused in your wake he could not hold it back anymore, bursting into laughter he swiped tears of joy from his cheeks

Why this moment was so funny to him was beyond him. Perhaps it was that small memory of another place far in the past, a human from another world, a room filled with all kinds of individuals enjoying their rather mediocre meal together

Perhaps he should humor you

Sending out Lilia yet again (the poor bas-) he ordered that you were brought a basket filled with the finest sentiment of breads

Soft bread, hard bread, bread with seeds, bread with a crunchy crust, bread that tasted spicy and much, much more

When that NPC tried to trade all that bread for a meager price which could barely feed a person for a day the oh-so-lighthearted atmosphere shifted immediately into something that can only be described by “Oh f, he did it”

“Lilia, when was the last time you sharpened your blade?” “Pardon?”

But hey, at e end off the day you had still your bread and everything was great and fine and dandy and yay and oh my god someone just got killed in a PG-13 game what the heck is going on??!

Lilia is someone who takes his duties very seriously

Be it conveying messages to all those that have paid the price of his ruler's benevolence or monitoring the one who connects the one controlling them and this world

At first, Lilia assumed that the one controlling the puppet wearing white and blue would be a cold-hearted tyrant who loved to watch an entire world being nothing more than a game to them

But then...

“SIR GIMME UR BREAAAAAD!” A most frightening battle cry, Lilia nearly fell off from the tree branch he was dangling from when he first heard it

Were you finally setting out to conquer this world? Was it finally time to draw his sword and- uh... huh? *Insert confused expression*

Instead of attacking a defenseless person you sprinted to the next one, repeating the same actions you did just a second ago

The general had expected something of a crueler nature, just how the Gods were at the dawn, not someone jumping up and down whilst demanding bread

But perhaps, this could be used to his benefit?

The next day you found a new NPC. How strange, haven't you walked down this path in the game many times before? His did you miss him?

Interacting with the young man you found out that he was a baker who specialised in bread

How funny! You made a show of wanting bread just yesterday

It was almost like the game was interacting with your real-life self... Nah. Must be your imagination

To your delight, the dialogue seemed to change every single day, ending with the baker telling you stories far too dangerous for a normal person like him to experience

Every following day the interactions with the young man became more and more interesting, and by interesting I mean they went more and more off the grid

Lilia had to tell you more stories from the past he could still remember. This started with him investigating by talking to you but after time, he got attached. What if you were to move on and leave him behind from boredom? After some time his filter started to stop much less from his past than before. Things that he would have sugar-coated before we're now on full display.

Just don't turn your affection to somebody else. You were such a refreshing new sight that he simply had to own your attention

Now now, play nice and do what he says. Otherwise you might find a few NPCs missing

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qdbs-writes · 10 months

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Okay. Kenshi hanzo Takeda and Liu Kang with an s/o who is secretly a villain pt2? But it turns out s/o was being controlled?

I'm so sorry this took so long, it took me a while to find the first post, but here is part 1

MK Lads x Secret-Villain Reader Part 2

Hanzo Hasashi (Scorpion)

Whether or not you were able to communicate that you were being controlled previously doesn't matter, in a fit of grief and desperation Hanzo works it out himself.

After revealing yourself as a villain, Hanzo would've ended your relationship. It took several months for him to work out what was happening to you, but when he finds out, he realizes that he can't rest until you're free.

Hanzo will lift any curse or evil magic-doer who was controlling you to their own ends and will check on you as the spell wears off to make sure you're all right.

Once he's confirmed that you are well, he will leave politely, making sure not to overstay his welcome. If you loved him once, you might love him again, but Hanzo believes you should take the time to re-establish your life and individuality before starting a relationship again.

Liu Kang

Once it's revealed that your villainous actions were the result of some sort of mind control, Kang takes this as a sign, a sign that he was never wrong about you, that you truly never would've done those cruel and evil things.

But he's aware of how precarious the situation is, he can't give away that he's aware of you being controlled, lest the puppet master behind your deeds tries to stop him by using you.

So he stays as close to you as possible, acting completely happy and content, trying to gather any information that he can so that he can save you. He'll realize that you keep making excuses to go somewhere, to a location that you would never specify. Whenever Kang stops you, you are quick to fly into a rage that seemed to hide desperation.

Kang takes this as another sign and lets you leave. Little do you or your puppet master know that Kang followed you in secret, in hopes that you would lead him right to the source of evil that plagued you.

Kenshi

Thankfully for you, Kenshi is able to work out you are being controlled, just as your villainy was revealed. Despite his heartbreak, things weren't adding up.

There were continuous unexplained shifts in your thought patterns, shifts that couldn't be explained by even the most bizarre brain waves.

Despite his pain, Kenshi decides it's not worth killing you, not yet at least. So he'll tie you up and take you on a little journey, to find whatever was causing your mind to completely flip.

Through his own psychic abilities, Kenshi is able to identify the source of your disturbance, eliminating it permanently. While your mind is stable, Kenshi needs more time to trust you again before letting his guard down once more.

Takeda Takahashi

So none of your villainy was willing and you were actually being controlled this entire time? Oh thank the gods, Takeda is relieved! He wants to say that he knew it wasn't really you all along, but that's a lie, he really had his doubts.

He hopes that what/whoever is controlling you is physical so he can cut them up into tiny, screaming pieces.

Turns out it was some magic asshole who was making you do all those evil things. So Takeda goes off on a noble quest to hack that fucker up, and at this point he's too pissed off to listen to any excuses magic fucker might have.

Don't be surprised if he returns to you on horseback, saving you from an evildoer has got him feeling all knightly and romantic.

#mortal kombat #mortal kombat imagines #mortal kombat headcanons #mortal kombat x reader #mk x reader #hanzo hasashi #scorpion #hanzo hasashi x reader #scorpion x reader #liu kang #liu kang x reader #kenshi #kenshi x reader #takeda takahashi #takeda takahashi x reader #qdbs writing #we eating good tonight with this new gifs

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adelrambles · 4 months

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Tips on Writing Bishop

I've been asked a couple times for advice on how to write a good (03-style) Bishop, and I'm well-aware he can be a bit tough to get a grasp on. As someone who's studied him specifically to learn how to write him as accurately as possible, I figured I'd compile some thoughts in case it'd be helpful to anyone else. I know a lot of Rise takes on him are basing off the 03 version, so maybe this could help generate ideas, too. SO!

Big Overall Points!

At the core of EVERYTHING Bishop does are two primary motivations. The first: the protection of the earth. What this means to him can get tricky, because it doesn't necessarily mean protecting the people, at least not all of them. But it will be better understood alongside the other:

The second: The protection of his sense of safety. Bishop has been deeply traumatized, and everything he does is born of a want to avoid that pain ever again. In his mind, earth is a safe area, a controllable factor, and anything outside it is a danger that must be eliminated. This is why he will still be willing to put himself and other people on the line in service of this; any sacrifice is worth the greater goal. (It's worth noting, Bishop will claim the first as his motivation freely, but is likely not consciously aware of the second.)

Bishop deals in Big Picture ONLY. Another reason Bishop will willingly throw away anything, including the lives of the people he claims to protect, is that he seems incapable of understanding things on a small, individual basis.

Bishop is a cold personality. He does not have strong displays of emotion. He does emote, but for the most part it's muted, so I recommend using emotional bursts very sparingly. (In my own writing, as an example, I try to limit my use of exclamation marks in his dialogue as much as possible.)

At his core, Bishop is afraid, and his response to fear is aggression. This also makes it particularly difficult to talk him down, if he's put in an emotional state. His response to not being in control is often violent retaliation.

With those basic tenants understood, let's move next to some major personality traits:

Bishop is a controlling personality. This is a direct result of his trauma response. Things that can be controlled are safe, therefore he must control everything. If something cannot be controlled, it's a threat that must be eliminated. If he doesn't know why something happened, he becomes angry (including even when it benefits him.)

Bishop is very low-empathy. When writing him, I try to keep in mind that he cannot put himself in the perspective of others. (Or if he can, he doesn't care to.)

Bishop is a sadist. He gets personal enjoyment from hurting others.

Bishop likes fighting, but only when he's winning. He will quickly leave if he can't see a guaranteed victory.

Bishop is paranoid. This is probably self-evident, but it's the reason he's often so well-prepared even when things don't go to plan.

Bishop genuinely seems to enjoy science. He's shown to be far more lenient with scientist characters than anyone else, and he seems to involve himself in his scientists' projects to a degree. Enough to, at the very least, understand their work. (Given he was the one set to dissect the turtles, it might also be argued he has some medical or biology background, himself.)

Bishop is an opportunist and scavenger. He can roll with failures as long as he can find something to get out of it. If he's presented with an opportunity to stab someone in the back, and he has something to gain? He'll take it without a second thought.

Bishop is deeply self-blind. For all his perceptiveness and strategic prowess, Bishop is not very self-aware in the slightest. He is completely blind to his own hypocrisies, and thoroughly confident in his own righteousness.

Bishop adapts fast. He accepts situations for what they are and acts (Though he may still be angry about them, or what have you.) This is likely a skill developed via longevity; the world around him has changed rapidly, but he doesn't feel out of place at all.

Bishop will take extreme risks and thinks wildly outside the box. Also self-evident, if you're familiar with the plans he enacts throughout the show. He'll put a lot on the line if he thinks the reward is worth enough, and he's willing to go to extreme lengths to get what he wants, even if his plans would be considered crazy by normal standards.

Bishop is persistent. If he wants something, he won't stop until he gets it. If he fails, he'll retreat, make a new plan, and try again. It is very difficult to convince him to back down (and certainly not on moral grounds.)

Habits and triggers I've noted:

Being restrained of any sort puts Bishop in a panic. He is more likely to have an emotional response in these scenarios, and seems to have (an albeit muted) desperation to escape. (See: Leatherhead restraining him in the first encounter; His reaction to being trapped on the surgical table in Head of State.)

When being duplicitous or suppressing a reaction, Bishop will go to adjust his tie. This could possibly be considered his tell.

Bishop seems to have a particular fear of aliens blending in as humans. His slayer project was built around the assumption that this is a common threat. (Worth noting: This makes The Shredder the model of the exact threat Bishop is afraid of. Technically, Bishop himself may also fit the description of a threat shaped like a human.)

Writing considerations:

In 03's narrative, Bishop is EPF and EPF is Bishop. Narratively speaking, any organization Bishop is head of acts as if it is an extension of his will and character.

Bishop is shown to strike fear and/or discomfort into most characters he interacts with. Anything beyond this is an outlier, and will draw a reader's attention.

Dialogue-wise, Bishop is generally succinct and blunt. He does dabble in gloating, though, and especially likes to upset others. If he's given a chance to be mean, he'll usually take it. It can help to consider he has a Mission Mode and a Normal Mode. When it comes to Mission Mode, he gets straight to the point and hates unnecessary talking. Otherwise, he's still not very talkative, but will take the time to make pointed jabs or talk through a plan. A lot of his sense of humor seems to be rooted in how He's Better Than You (And You're Going To Die Painfully.)

It's a common pitfall that Bishop is depicted as seeking out the turtles. In 03, once he gets their DNA, he's done with them. Any encounters after that are incidental. Bishop does not care about anything that won't effect his greater goal. If he's targeting another character, it should have to do with a greater plan.

Bishop is an extremely competent combatant, shown to be able to handle up to 7 opponents at once. For a breakdown on his fighting style check out my other post on that!

Bishop is hard to kill, and oftentimes he accidentally contributes to his own defeat. (The hook from Bishop's Gambit is an example I get a LOT of mileage out of, as a perfect symbol of his self-defeating prophecies.)

We almost only ever see Bishop in the context of his work. While it could be construed that he depersonalizes himself, it's much more clear that the narrative depersonalizes him. As far as we, the audience know, Bishop's work is all that he is.

It's unclear if Bishop was released from his abduction or escaped. Depending on which you ascribe to, this can have ramifications for his mindset on how to deal with the alien threat. (Personally, because so much of his inability to cope hinges on a feeling of helplessness, I believe he was released. If he escaped on his own power, that undercuts it, somewhat.)

Thematically-speaking, Bishop parallels both his own torturers and his own victims at the same time. He has perpetuated the cycle that traumatized him in the first place by trying to fight fire with fire. (In that vein, I don't think he's capable of understanding that, not seeing aliens as people in the first place, just dangers. Considering how deeply ingrained his trauma is in his worldview and actions, it would probably ruin him, if he were ever able to actually grasp it.)

Bishop and EPF are likely a commentary on the military of the time 03 was coming out. This can be something worth keeping in mind, when figuring out his greater themes in your story, though it can just as well be discarded if it doesn't fit.

Adding to that, Bishop has an extensive american military background. His skills and knowledge will reflect that.

Bishop also plays on and references a number of real-life alien conspiracies. It can be worth digging through conspiracy history to drum up ideas and themes, too.

The ethical and philosophical quandaries of Bishop's body-hopping and humanity tend to not hold too much weight, because Bishop, himself, doesn't seem to care.

If I think of more I'll certainly be adding on to the reblogs of this post! Or, if you have more thoughts, please feel free to add! If you're in the mood for more Bishop ramblings, that's practically most of this blog atm, but this post is a particular favorite. If you're interested in Fast Forward!Bishop, specifically, consider this post! (also read Taking Pawns. slipped in that self-promo, nice.)

#agent bishop #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #teenage mutant ninja turtles #And man I still gotta make an analysis on 2012 Bishop #my man is so underrated #There are only a handful of fics out there that include him at ALL and for the most part I find he's blended with 03's characterization #Which takes away what makes him fun in his own right and muddies 03 Bishop's character basis imo #anyway I had this post on the backburner for a while and finally got the motivation to finish her up #And of course if ever there are more questions on characterizing him I'd be happy to help! I love rambling about this guy ad nauseum #oooh stray thought I should do one for Rat King too. Went through that guy's episodes recently theyre GREAT #I've also been very tempted to compile most of these posts into a big ol video essay. idk if I could pull it off but it sure is an idea

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arkhammaid · 1 year

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— ˚₊‧⁺˖ S-RANKS AND THEIR INHUMAN TRAITS.

fandom. solo leveling

pairings. beak yoonho, choi jong-in, liu zhigang, sung jin-woo x gn!reader

content warnings. s-ranks are not quite human, written in lower caps, not edited/proofread

word count. 1.1k

notes. first solo leveling fic here on tumblr!! i hope you all like it, some food before i focus on the event fics :)

S-Ranks are not only distinguished by the fact that their mana levels are so high that they can't be measured by any means, but also by taking almost animalistic traits. Those are a result of their own high mana reserves and in which way the mana has manifested in them. Each S-Rank is individual and shows different inhuman traits.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ baek yoonho.

beak yoonho is an s-rank, who focuses on transformation magic. while he clearly has the power of a tank, his mana manifests in a weird mix of tiger and wolf

having practiced rigorous control of his mana and with that his animalistic instincts, he’s one of the few s-ranks who rarely shows his inhuman traits

and still, his appearance changed the moment he awakened to a s-rank. canine teeth, his pupils turning to slits when his control slips— those small things bleed through his ‘normal’ appearance

these traits are the most obvious after baek cancels his transformation, mana still pulsing strongly through his body and only slowly turning him back fully human. the tips of his hair stay white, streaked with black, while his eyes continue to glow and usually round pupils remain as thin slits

when he’s like this, mind still hazy and led by instincts, his words are more like growls, deep and snarling, showing his teeth to anyone who dares to touch what’s his

that’s what happens as well. baek normally hides it well, but post-transformation leaves doesn’t exactly clear his mind, instincts influencing his acts and decisions

you know all of this well, after being baek’s partner for years, you got to know all his traits, those he hides so well. sometimes you wish he wouldn’t, you don’t mind seeing him like this, but baek is careful. he would never dare to hurt you, he fears it, fully knowing his claws could easily sink into your delicate flesh, ripping you apart while his mana lusts for blood.

baek doesn’t show his inhuman traits often, he doesn’t like showing them, because showing them means exposing them to you, someone who could never survive an s-rank.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ choi jong-in.

compared to baek, his long time rival, choi jong-in isn’t the one for hiding his less humane traits, but he doesn’t parade them around either. choi is a dragon through and through, sly and with a knowing glint in his eyes

he loves to hoard things, his apartment filled with trinkets, weapons he collected from all around the world, armor, artifacts— everything and anything, if something interesting catches his eyes, he will drag it to his hoard and no one will stop him

choi is a being of fire. the slumbering embers and roaring fires, calm and passionate, he embodies it and it often shows. running hotter than most s-ranks, choi is a walking heater. he himself isn’t bothered by it, but others can get uncomfortable

and like any other beast, he has fangs and is proud of them. showing off his impressive teeth isn’t something he doesn’t do often, and yet, when the smoke of his cigarettes curls around him, sometimes you can glimpse a flash of them

despite choi being a professional and known for being one of the ‘nicer’ s-ranks, he can have a nasty temper as well. several times you’ve heard him snarl, teeth gleaming, a low rumble in his throat and the heat in the room steadily rising. he has a good control of himself and knows when it’s getting dangerous, choking his own mana and becoming seemingly completely human again.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ liu zhigang.

liu zhigang could be compared to a berserker. he is a mighty warrior, one of the strongest s-ranks known and his blood runs hot, his hunger for blood and battle never satisfied

liu is a berserker, always ready for battle, lusting after it, no matter how strong the enemies are

and like any other proper berserker, he loves weapons. be it any blade, swords and spears, he wants them in his possession, even if he will never use them twice. sometimes his interest in a weapon is just enough to properly ‘bloody’ it, mesmerized by the view of splattered guts and flesh of monsters

war is his calling and it shows. his instincts are wired and completely focused on battles, it’s hard for him to just turn those off. he can mute them, and still he often scares other hunters and ordinary humans with his laser focus

he’s a predator and everyone is his victim, no one is safe. this is what most feel, no matter what liu does. when he was still young, inexperienced, nothing more than a small boy in this large world, he was scared. scared to hurt others, if he could never control this bloodlust

but nowadays, this fear is nowhere to be seen. liu is confident in his skin and he fully embraces his whole being, the fierce mana that has changed him forever. when he grins with a fierce glint in his eyes, own blood already boiling, his whole body ready to jump and tear through flesh… it’s then when he truly shows his animalistic, inhuman traits.

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ sung jin-woo.

sung jin-woo has probably the most control of his inhuman traits out of all s-ranks known to earth. and still, he can’t hide them completely, just as he can’t hide his power

there are his fangs, just a bit longer, a bit sharper than normal human teeth. there are his eyes, dark and glowing, his whole body shrouded in shadows— sometimes they cling onto him, sometimes jin-woo becomes a shadow

he’s not feral, bloodthirsty or a slave to his inhuman instincts. he just is someone, something powerful in a human body

a reason why other s-ranks are so careful around him. what kind of power does he have, to completely control his urges, those inhuman traits, while walking among them as if he’s a normal human being. yet he can’t be, not with the mana tightly around him— no matter what rank you are, sung jin-woo is one of the most powerful s-ranks known and everyone can feel that

as can you, not even a hunter, your body devoid of any mana but you can feel it. feel jin-woo’s power, how the shadows cling onto him, how his eyes glint, the mana wisps around him. you can feel it, sometimes see it but rarely, rarely jin-woo shows it. hidden away, in his arms, where darkness takes over him, but you’re not afraid. he keeps you safe, clothed in shadows and mana, while his rumbling chest fills the peaceful silence around you.

taglist. @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @keqism , @aimixx , @venexus , @themercyverse

if you want to join the taglist, please read this post!

ARKHAM MAID 2023

#solo leveling #sung jinwoo x reader #sung jin woo x reader #baek yoonho x reader #choi jong-in x reader #liu zhigang x reader #sung jin woo #baek yoonho #choi jong-in #liu zhigang #solo leveling x reader #— ˚₊‧⁺˖ creations

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thatbadadvice · 6 months

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Help! I Am Entitled To Do A Bone!

The Ethicist, New York Times, 14 October 2023:

My wife became pregnant soon after we met, when our relationship was “fluid” and non-monogamous. We agreed to raise the child together and, at my urging, to have an open relationship. However, our relationship since has been monogamous. My wife was injured during the birth of our second child and now finds sex painful and avoids it. (We had a terrific sex life before the injury.) When I broached the topic of having other partners and reminded her of our agreement to have an open relationship, she became irritated and said that having kids changed things. Subsequent discussions resulted in a stalemate. I very much enjoy my wife’s company and love her and our two kids. I have no intention of separating from my family. Nonetheless, I harbor resentments that my wife reneged on her commitment to me, and this, together with the lack of sex, is creating a wedge between us. Would it be ethical to take a mistress, given her earlier promise, and if so, can I do this discreetly so as to avoid tension and perhaps divorce? Or should I tell her I am planning to pursue this course of action? Or does the inherent risk of infidelity mean I should accept near-celibacy indefinitely? — Name Withheld

Dear Name Withheld,

The restraint with which you signed yourself "name withheld" rather than the more accurate "big fun deep-dicking from which I have been blocked by my hateful bitch wife" is admirable in the extreme. You are a credit to your gender, sir.

But on to the matter at hand, specifically, your hand, to which you have been relegated in lieu of the aforementioned big fun deep-dicking. Your wife waited to drop the vicious bomb of possession upon you until she had roped you, an unwitting fancy-free man of leisure (entitled to all the benefits thereof indefinitely and in perpetuity), into marriage and fatherhood of not one but two children — children you could have in no way have known would result from your consistently and entirely monogamous coupling over many years, and moreover, could never have expected would complicate the terms of the thing y'all talked about one time about boning other randos?? And now this self-interested harpy dares to refuse to you the clear promise of sex with absolutely anyone other than her at any time ever, which she made and guaranteed in surety after you'd been fucking for a minute? A promise you had in theory enjoyed by writ and at length in your mind based on a conversation y'all had years ago before the entire terms and nature of your relationship changed in deep and meaningful ways to literally the one other person involved in said relationship, to wit, the worst person?

A bait-and-switch of the kind your cruel and fickle wife has pulled on you cannot, should not, be tolerated. Are you — is any man, really — obligated to just not fuck his wife in addition to whoever else he wants to fuck ever? Just because she "finds sex painful"? Sex isn't painful for you, and doesn't that matter just a little bit more? Isn't it her job to have kind of a bad time so that you can have a good time? Isn't that what it is to be a woman and a mother? And she just casually eschews her duty to put up with whatever the fuck you propose? Because WHY? Because "having kids changes things"? I ask you: changes things for who? For the person who carried children in her body and experienced deep and lasting personal and physical injury? Or for you, the person who matters most?

It seems your wife has an unfortunately topsy-turvy view of partnership, one in which she believes two individuals are allowed to dictate the terms of a relationship that may change over time due to a variety of mitigating factors that one or both of you may or may not have control over. Would that she realized that her sexual needs are not merely incidental to yours, but actively irrelevant. If only she would simply give you that one, small thing (in addition to two children).

But alas, she seems sadly fixated on her own needs to the exclusion of the fact that you would like to do a bone upon her or frankly anyone, you are not picky, as long as she doesn't leave you or take your children away or do anything really to upset the world as you would like it to be, which is a classically controlling woman-type thing that women do because they are so self-involved.

Obviously you're really grappling with the profound ethical implications of lying to your wife about taking a mistress, and you're trying to find literally any other solution to just finding a girlfriend and fucking the shit out of her and hoping your wife doesn't find out. That's clearly the very last thing you want. But since you've shown such magnanimous restraint in not doing so, you probably should just do it and see what happens, it'll probably all be totally fine! And if it isn't, eh, idk? Were you supposed to just survive on beejays and handies forever? You tried your very best not to! And that's what will matter most to your children in the end.

#relationships #advice #bad advice #the ethicist #new york times #monogamy #polyamory #ethical non monogamy #just regular dude stuff #the men are fine #the men are very chill #childbirth #parenting #families #relationship advice

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kykyonthemoon · 1 month

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Limerence (noun) — a mental state of profound romantic infatuation, deep obsession, and fantastical longing.

⋆˚✿˖° This chapter is a part of a mini-series of dark fairy tales and romance sets in another universe. It consists of three chapters, each with a Male Lead and is separated from one another.

⋆˚✿˖° Character x Reader/MC, from another (OC's) point of view. Reader/MC's pronounce is "she/her/hers".

⋆˚✿˖° Warnings & tags: 16+, MDNI, angst, hurt, thriller, emotional and mind control, manipulation, love spell, obsession, unrequited love, major character death, dark fantasy, dark fairy tale, m.urder, s.uicide attempt.

⋆˚✿˖° Leonard is my OC.

⋆˚✿˖° Read more chapters:

✦ Xavier's ✦ Zayne's

⋆˚✿˖° Masterlist

⋆˚✿˖° My friend Cery made an art for this fic here: x

Chapter: The Muse — in which he brings the world his most significant work of art.

⋆˚✿˖° Word count: 3k1

These days, the artist community was vibrant, with some even competing for acceptance to the exhibition at Mo Art Studio.

So did Leonard. He had to rush around and ask for help everywhere in order to be given a chance. Money was not an issue, but the host of this exhibition was certainly not an ordinary person. He wasn't offering tickets to the highest bidder, but rather to those who possessed an artistic vision and passed his evaluation.

“The ticket will be sent to you within the next three days. Please keep in touch.” The other end of the line cut the discussion off, but Leonard's mind remained lightheaded, unable to believe the gift he had just received.

“Wait…” He spoke before the other person hung up. “Excuse me… May I do an interview with that artist in the exhibition?”

There was no response. Leonard believed they were reviewing his proposal. He held his breath and wait for a while, then the manager named Thomas spoke:

“We do not accept interviews. But a few individual queries could suffice. Of course, if you are able to leave a good impression.”

"I got it. Thank you."

Putting the phone aside, Leonard leaned back in his office chair. How to impress Linkon's most talented painter, or should he say - the world's best artist? Despite his young age, there was no one in this city who had never heard of his work.

The artist's name was Rafayel. He became well-known for his landscape paintings, which brought admirers to a dreamlike state when they stood in front of them. He seldom appeared in public, despite having organized hundreds of major and minor exhibitions. Who he truly was remained a question, and the most mysterious part was probably his disappearance a year ago.

For a whole year there were no new paintings or art activities. No one saw him in Linkon during that time. His manager and studio kept it silent, as if everything had evaporated overnight. Then, last weekend, he unexpectedly reappeared and made an important announcement, which was an exhibition called The Muse.

In contrast to his previous events, guests had no idea what they were about to witness. According to the majority of internet comments, Rafayel returned with a work of a lifetime, a painting that exceeded anything he had ever created. That was the final result of a year-long hunt for inspiration. Of course, there were those who believed he was steadily degrading since he hadn't been able to draw anything decent in a long time and had simply planned this event to earn some money.

For Leonard, either truth was fair. He must uncover all of the details and secrets surrounding Rafayel's reappearance. Since that was what he did for a living.

Leonard was a journalist who specialized in arts. Despite his greatest efforts over several years, he still had little hope of succeeding. He had been without a single decent piece for a long time. Then the opportunity to visit the Mo Art studio presented itself before his eyes. He was not going to miss the chance to see a place that had never been accessible to the public before.

The day of the exhibition approached. Leonard had purposefully showed up early, but as he reached the gate, he noticed that about fifty formally dressed guests were already present. They were enjoying wine and food as they walked in groups into the main hall, where the primary event was held. Leonard also entered with nervousness. All of the windows and doors were wide open, allowing the sea air to convey a salty fragrance into the hallway. Rafayel's famous works are framed, and hung or placed in the center of a floral garden that the host tenderly arranged himself, giving guests the impression that they had just lost themselves in the Garden of Eden.

However, that was not the primary attention of the event. Something massive and cylindrical appeared in the center of the hall. It spanned from the ground to an exceedingly high glass ceiling. It had a diameter of up to ten meters, and was covered in a crimson velvet fabric, protecting it from inquisitive eyes of guests. Even the personnel had not an idea of what was inside.

"Rafayel did all of this himself." Thomas, the manager, spoke up. "I can't answer your questions because I'm not sure what's there. But whatever it is, it will undoubtedly live up to the name of his Muse."

The flock of intrigued guests around Thomas nodded, then split out to stroll around and admire the pillar, as if its very presence was already an art. To them, the less they comprehended something, the more valuable it became.

Leonard found a seat close to the window but not too far from the center of the hall. He was afraid of missing the opportunity to witness Rafayel's Muse. Late in the afternoon, the sun glided across the horizon, casting golden rays into the place. The guests began to get tipsy, wondering if Rafayel would show up or if this was all a hoax, when, down the stairs, the host of the party appeared.

He donned a lavish dark blue suit with sculpted sleeves and shoulders that looked to be encrusted with spectrum fish scales. His presence was as magnificent as his name, causing the entire hall to fall silent. Guests held their breath as they watched the young artist stroll down the steps, the heels of his shoes reverberating on the marble floor as if a piece of music had just been executed.

“Welcome to the exhibition.” Rafayel spoke in a solemn voice. "It appears that all of the guests here are wondering; what exactly has he been doing during the past year? Why didn't he present any of his new work? What's the point of this exhibition?"

Rafayel halted for a moment, his dark eyes behind a few purple curls scrutinizing each guest individually, as if reading them all. The corner of his mouth twisted up in delight as he effectively piqued everyone's interest. He resumed his speech:

“It all began with a muse. My muse. That's a story perhaps a lucky visitor would unveil in this exhibition. But for now…” Rafayel lifted a hand. “Let me introduce you to my one and only, Muse.”

The scorched cloth transformed into crimson tiny particles that flew all about, blending into the fiery sunset outside. The crimson sun halted in the center of the room's largest window, and emerged as an illusion was Rafayel's Muse.

Leonard blinked. In front of him stood a tank of water with a thick glass cylinder. The inside was ornamented with flowers, coral, and white pillars of broken plaster encircling an oval of the glass tank, offering him the sense that he was staring at a lost city under the depths of the ocean. There were schools of brilliant small fish swimming around, weaving between the crevices of the broken world. In the midst of the tableau, there was a woman floating in the water in an upright stance, a few meters above the tank's bottom, conveying an illusion that she was flying. Her head was adorned with pearl jewelry, eyes were closed, as if she was in deep slumber. Her hands opened, allowing the orange-red fish to whirl around her wrists. Then they invited each other to swim along her tiny unclothed arms, to her exquisite neck covered in shimmering pearls, and down to the thin white garment that was floating in the water like her own body. Her bare feet lingered above the seaweed, as if to tease them with the fact that they were unable to grasp her no matter how hard they tried.

A beauty out of this world. That was what Leonard's mind could think of. When he came here, he was full of determination to discover Rafayel's secret, but now, when he witnessed its beauty with his own eyes, he was speechless. His brain felt empty, as if that beauty had filled it and he no longer needed anything else. A melodic rhythm could be heard somewhere, distant seemingly from another universe, but apparently emanating from the tank itself.

All guests were drawn to the center. Rafayel vanished among the crowd that was cheering him. Nobody suspected that Rafayel's Muse was not a painting but an entirely distinct thing. Whatever it was, she was the size of an adult in her mid-twenties. A statue or a doll that resembled a real person?

Leonard brushed past a few astonished others to get closer to the tank. Rafayel's exhibit could easily shock the entire art field. Leonard had already begun pondering concepts for his next piece. Unlike the other guests, who were merely engaged in the beauty in front of them, he was more enthralled by the narrative behind The Muse.

Who was she? Where did her story begin? Leonard sought around for Rafayel's silhouette but could not find him. However, near the stairs, he encountered Thomas with a look of panic and utter shock on his face.

“It can't be… No… It can't be her…” Those were the words Leonard could hear before Thomas bolted out of the hall.

There were just a few people invited to the show, and after approximately an hour, they had presumably spent all of their admiration and hypothesis on the tank. They met again in groups to tour Rafayel's studio. Who knows when they would be able to return here again, in ten, twenty, or even fifty years?

Leonard took advantage of the reality that people had left the area to approach closer and examine more, now that he was the only one standing nearby. The Muse was still inside, a smile on her lips, but why did Leonard feel a suffering coming from her? He strolled around the tank to better view her. It was hard to discern whether this was in fact a sculpture by Rafayel or a real person. That was also what the guests spoke about all day.

The Muse was so genuine. To the point that Leonard expected her to open her eyes and climb out of the tank. But she remained still, absorbed in her own undersea world. He stayed frozen, unable to move his gaze away from the tank, for Rafayel had previously stated that within this, his secrets hidden.

Yet Leonard, with his mundane eyes, might never discover it. The only thing he found was possibly a tiny coating of pinkish red water coming from The Muse's breast. That ruby hue seeped through the attire that enveloped her, and it looked nothing like the color that Rafayel often used in his paintings. There was something rather odd about it. It resembled blood, from The Muse herself.

The exhibition came to an end. Guests departed on their own after being notified. Rafayel returned to the lobby. Leonard took the opportunity to ask in an instance:

“Mr. Rafayel. May I ask you a few questions regarding the exhibition?

Rafayel gazed at him. To increase his reputation, he identified himself as a journalist who specialized in writing about art.

"Ah. "I remember you." Rafayel responded. "Among the guests, you were the only one who gave an impressive answer to my question."

Leonard tried to recall the survey he was required to complete before Thomas reached him to inform he had an invitation. These questions were all about Rafayel's career, and the answers were readily accessible online. There was just one question, the last one, that sparked a lot of consideration in Leonard, while having nothing to do with Rafayel's works at all.

"If you were given a magical spell that made the person you love love you forever, would you use it?" Rafayel reiterated his query. "You're the only one who chose not to."

Leonard nodded. It was truly what he had said.

"May I know, why?" Rafayel glanced at him with curiosity. Leonard was taken aback, as he had come here expecting to be an interviewer. Who would have guessed it was the other way around?

"A spell is just an illusion." Leonard responded honestly. "That is not love." "Love must come from a true heart."

"A true heart…" Rafayel repeated each word. His eyes were as sorrowful and deep as the tranquil water, yet it was terrifying since he had no idea when the storm would arrive. "Perhaps, she would choose the same answer as you."

"Pardon?…" Leonard interrupted Rafayel's thoughts. "Who are you talking about?"

Rafayel smiled but remained silent. Fearing that the young artist might leave without answering, Leonard impatiently said:

“Aren't you talking about your Muse? Can you tell me who she is?”

Rafayel gazed at the girl in the aquarium. He smiled. Just a small movement of the lips conveyed devotion, anguish, and regret.

"She is my true heart." Rafayel's voice resembled a song. But he said nothing more, and Leonard was asked to leave right away.

The Muse's story was forever a mystery. The mystery that Leonard had yet to come very close.

That story began a year ago. Or perhaps, it had originated a long, long time ago.

When a Lemurian gives their heart to someone, it will die if not reciprocated.

Rafayel had given his to a human girl.

He met her when she was a child. She was his savior when he was expecting such a painful death on land, and she helped him return to the sea.

She could not remember who he was, nor did she know that all those years, he had been watching her from afar. Amid the waves, behind the rocks, he watched her grow up.

He met her again as a painter many years later. She happily accepted his company. But it was not all he wanted. He longed for her. He craved her touch to make her become his, in the way he had determined his heart belonged to her.

But, her heart belonged to someone else.

A year ago, she told him that she was getting married.

Rafayel could not recall how frightening his emotions were. No matter how powerful the storms were at sea, they could never match his rage at the time. And, with a dreadful calamity brewing in his head, he did what he did to her.

He bound her with an ancient Lemurian enchantment. He made her fall desperately in love with him. She did everything for him, even abandoning her engagement and following him to a far away place. A secluded island only for them. Glorious summer nights lingered forever on the beach, when she and he were entangled, merging in the waves of never-ending love. He had her how he wished.

However, like an illusion, that spell did not persist forever. It drove her to insanity. She wandered alone on the shore, tears streaming and her mouth constantly crying out the name of the person she truthfully loved with each sob. She begged of him.

“Rafayel… Please… Let me go… Please… set me free… Set me free!”

Her screams were drowned in the ocean waves. Little did she realize that seeing her in this way made his heart bleed as well.

"Please…" She sobbed. Rafayel's dagger was in her grasp, and she pressed it to her throat. "If you won't let me leave... I must free myself..."

"Hush now, my dearest…" Rafayel quietly stretched out to her. This was not her first time in this state. He approached her, placed a hand on her forehead, and brushed away her wind-blown hair. Her fingers on the dagger tightened, urging him to back away. However, Rafayel seized the blade that was cutting into her neck, forcing his hand to bleed.

"You don't want to cut yourself, dear."

She trembled and stared at Rafayel. He hummed a very familiar melody, which made her thoughts muddled once more. The dagger slipped from her hand as she collapsed to her knees on the damp beach. Screaming.

“Be still, dearest love.” Rafayel gently lowered down. His knees were next to hers, as if he, too, was begging her to stay. “I can ease all our suffering… If you listen to me now…”

She covered her ears and shook her head with ferocity as if she never wanted to hear another word from him. Rafayel smiled in bitter. She had been like this lately, forgetting who she was and how profoundly she was in love with him. But that was alright. He would help her rekindle her love. She would obey at once as soon as he began singing.

He sang their song. He sang it the first time they met, and he still sang it day by day with her by his side.

She wept tremendously. She clutched her head and pleaded with him to stop. But Rafayel could never. Just like he could not stop the waves from crashing against the shore, who could ever stop his love for her?

After a while, she became quiet. No more yelling and pleading. She gave him an empty stare and a smile.

"Rafayel." She called his name. Her hand found his body, as though she had desired to be close to him since forever. Rafayel embraced her. He stroked and kissed the top of her head. His tears sank, condensing into pearls and nestling on her hair.

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry for turning you into someone like this…” Rafayel whispered in her ear. “But I've found a way to fix everything. You shall not suffer any longer... And neither shall I..."

Rafayel held her with one hand as the other sought the dagger's hilt in the moist sand.

“Will you do this for me?”

He gazed into the eyes of hers which were dreamy under the spell of love. She nodded.

"I vow to do everything for my dearest beloved."

"Very good." Rafayel smiled as he kissed her lips. "You will always be my Muse… Mine, forever..."

The dagger swung across the fiery sunset. The water chanted its melody in an ancient ritual. Then everything fell silent.

Rafayel watched her passionately as she slept within the water tank he had specifically built for her. That was her home, now and forever.

His hand stroked across the beautiful design. Her body was adorned with jewelry crafted from his teardrops. She was a masterpiece of his lifetime, which extended to no end. His Muse. His lips found hers on the other side of the glass, and he pressed a kiss.

From now on, she would weep no more. She would feel no pain.

A crimson light emanated from inside the pocket near Rafayel's chest. He pulled out a blazing red protocore.

This entire world will soon know that, her true heart shall forever belong to him and him alone.

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