#surface level passing judgement

[mcybree]

since the scott relationship cycle post has been getting notes again I feel the need to specify that I don’t read him like this for fun edgy angst reasons to spice up his character or smth I legitimately just think he’s like that. I dont wake up and decide “TIME TO PORTRAY SCOTT AS THE WORST PERSON ALIVE ACTUALLY this is going to be sooo fucked up and evil god im such an awesome contrarian” I watch him in horror as he 1 for 1 describes lovebombing jimmy or how he “whittles him down until he’s nothing” or whatever. trust me guys I dont want him to be like this either

#that.blue.mf #i dont like passing moral judgement on characters much tbh but he’s a nice person not a good person is a pretty applicable phrase to him #on a surface level at least #bree barks so fucking loud

[mint-yooxgi]

Promises - Yandere!Kraken!Felix

Yandere AU & Kraken AU - First Person POV

Genre: Mature, Smutty Themes, Internal Monologue

Pairing: Felix X Implied Chubby!Fem!Reader

Words: 1,958

Warnings: Implied violence and shipwreck, kidnapping, Felix is a type of Sea God in this, mentions of past sexual relations. Tentacles. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Did I base the start of this drabble on the ending scene in Dead Man's Chest? Perhaps. Is this a bit tamer than the others. Maybe. Either way, I still hope you like it! I've been slowly easing myself back into writing, so I'm happy with what I've been able to do. Plus, I just fucking love the banner I made for this hehehe... Anyways, Feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

The Thirteenth of The Feral Drabbles

They thought they could keep you away from me.

They really thought they could keep you away from me.

It’s laughable. I thought it was a known rule for sailors not to anger the sea, but alas. Here we are.

The frantic screams and shouts don’t deter me for one second. I know what I came here for, and I’m not leaving without you. You’re mine. I warned them what the consequences would be, yet still they refused to give you to me. Even after we promised ourselves to each other! Can you believe that?

Oh, that sounds so harsh. It’s not like you didn’t also choose me. It’s these… these… things keeping us apart. They don’t understand our love. Think I’m corrupting you, or something.

Such bullshit. The only thing I’m corrupting is their ability to live.

They hid you on the third level, thinking you’d be safe within the deepest confines of the ship. Little do they know it’s the worst place you could be. It’s like they want you to get hurt, like they want me to kill you. Such things I would never do. 

Still, despite my anger as I tear this floating piece of wood apart, I’m careful. Your safety is my top priority, and I’ve already ensured that. Right now, you rest, cocooned inside a few of my tentacles. Magic surrounds you, ensuring none of their attacks have any effect on me or you. Like hell I’ll allow them to disturb you now. Besides, you passed out shortly after my assault started on the ship, but you don’t have to worry. I’ve got you.

I can still remember when we first met, how you told me you didn’t fare well with sea travel. Yet another offence they’ve made against you. I’ll never forgive them for their transgressions. Sinners need to pay, and I am here to pass my divine judgement on those that would call themselves ‘heroes’.

Do not fear, My Beloved. Once I finish smashing apart this pathetic excuse of driftwood, I’ll take you home. 

Where you’ve always belonged. 

With me.

These planks are so brittle, it’s almost laughable. Your captor’s pathetic attempts to defend themselves are cute, in a way. If not for the fact that every time I start to pull you out of the wreckage, more of them show up to try and hinder me. I don’t know why they’re so obsessed with protecting you now when they’ve never done so before.

I’m the one who always saves you. I’m the one who ensures you no harm. Not them.

No matter. They haven’t seen everything that I can do. My capabilities far surpass what their puny, closed off minds can comprehend. I’ve got magic beyond the darkest depths of the ocean, strength greater than the harshest of tides. There is no being, save myself, that could keep me away from you.

I don’t even know why they try.

Finally, I’m able to pull you out of that godforsaken wreckage and unleash my full wrath upon these wretches. The boat snaps like a twig as I pull the debris and all remaining survivors below the surface. 

None will survive. They don’t get to. I won’t let them.

Honestly, it’s kind of fun tearing stuff apart. I’ve always enjoyed making a mess of things. I only wish you could be awake to see just how strong your lover can be. After all, I’m doing this for you. I warned them about what would happen should they lay their filthy, traitorous hands all over you. I’m simply staying true to my word!

You know firsthand that I’m a very truthful guy. I would never lie to you, My Pearl. I would rather be slow roasted over an open fire than even think to deceive you.

Aren’t I so loyal?

Oh. Right. You aren’t awake to hear my teasing. Teasing which you seem quite fond of whenever I’m with you.

I think you just like hearing my voice…

That’s okay, Beloved. I will speak for as long as you desire me to. Besides, the feeling is quite mutual.

Gods- I can’t wait to see your face when you wake up in our home, and I get to tell you everything that I’ve done for you. Finally, we can be together, free of oppressive opinions and suppressive stares. Where I’m taking you, we can be ourselves, and the magic of my ocean will keep you safe. Eventually, when you’re ready, you’ll even become like me, too. 

Won’t that be incredible? Just thinking about it makes my whole body tingle.

Or maybe that’s just the change in depth.

I promise my home isn’t too much further out, and it’s in a safe area. You’ll be able to live here with me free of any restraints. I’ll be your comfort. I’ll be your guide. I will provide for you everything you will ever need. 

There is nothing stopping our love now.

I’ll even make sure that no sliver of the wreckage I just caused gets to you. The currents listen to me. They’re my friends, and soon they will be yours, too.

Either way, I’m glad that’s over, because now I can focus on you! I know that you’d be celebrating with me if you were awake, but for now, I’ll simply revel in this sweet victory alone. Having you safe in my arms is enough reward, and when you wake, the true celebration will begin.

Hmm, I wonder what we should do first? Should I take you to the reefs so you can see all of the colourful coral that I’ve grown just for you? Should I present you to the schools of fish that always seek refuge around my house? Get them to revel in your beauty? Or maybe I’ll worship you in the den of our own personal sanctuary, where nothing - no one - will be able to interrupt.

My Beauty.

My Beautiful, Beloved Pearl.

I’ll admit, there’s a certain ring to those names that I enjoy. It calls to me like the cavernous songs of the sirens. An enchantment I can never seem to escape: you.

Not that I want to. 

No. Never. Not since the very first time I laid eyes on you.

You’re addictive, you know that? One glance caught my attention. One melodic note of a spoken word, and I was hooked. Your eyes are deeper than the darkest sea, and I could swim in them forever. You hold me, transfixed, with your gaze whenever you look at me, and I never want it to stop.

Honestly, I can never grow tired of you looking at me. I want you to look at me, and only me. I want to be the first thing you see in the morning when you blink those glorious eyes open, and the last thing you see when you go to sleep at night. I want to wrap you in my arms and hold you close, whispering the sweetest words of all the worlds in your ears, and hear you do the same for me in return.

There is nothing I wouldn’t do for you, Beloved, and I will never hesitate to prove that to you. With me, you will never have to settle for less than what you deserve, for I will always give you every single thing your heart could ever desire.

Fuck- I can still remember the way your body trembled from the very first touch. The more I trailed my arms over your body, letting the tips of my tendrils caress your skin, the more your whole being warmed. You fit so perfectly in my hold, that I long to always touch you - to always be near you, and obey your every whim.

I am but your loyal servant, sent to worship the very depths of your soul. Your entire being calls to me, and I could bathe in your warmth for all eternity. Right now, it’s that warmth that I crave more than anything. That glorious nectar that seeps from between your legs beckons to me. One taste isn’t enough. I need to feel you flooding my every sense once more.

Sweet.

Addictive.

I could spend ages defining it, but nothing could ever truly put into words just how ethereal you are to me.

People always thought my existence was mere myth itself. Rumours and legends only meant to scare those away from pursuing adventure on the high seas. Nothing more than a fable to tell their children at night to ensure they don’t go off swimming in the bay alone.

They have always been, and will always be, wrong.

I’m as real at the tide, as sure as the sand that resides against the ocean floor. There is nothing in these waters as deadly as I am, and all those that oppose us will face my wrath.

Well, where we’re going, we won’t have to worry about being disturbed at all. Plenty of room for the both of us. Plenty of privacy. No one dares disturb that which should be left undisturbed. At least, those smart enough to.

That is, of course, unless I use my magic to let those sirens get a taste of their own medicine. Water echoes even the smallest of sounds, and yours should be heard for miles around. I can still hear your glorious voice calling out my name as you bathed me in your own sacred waters, and I want all to know that you are mine, and I am yours. For all eternity. 

I’ll admit… I’m addicted to you, and I can never get enough. Though, from the way I remember your hands clinging to me that night only days ago, I don’t think you can get enough, either.

Good thing we have forever to spend fully satisfying each other!

Ah… looks like we’re finally getting close to home. I can see the familiar drop off up ahead. Don’t worry, Beloved, there’ll be plenty of air for you to breathe inside. I won’t always have to keep you covered in a veil of magic. Though, I would always like to have an arm around you. Feeling your skin pressed against my own is a sensation unlike any other, and I long to never let you go.

Perhaps I should tidy up a little more before you wake. I always have way too much energy after destroying a ship. Something about adrenaline and all that.

Perhaps when you wake up you could even help me with it… You might be a bit tired and disoriented when you wake, but my magic can help with your exhaustion. You seemed to like that that last time I used it on you.

How else could we have gone as many rounds as we did?

Oh, you flatter me by pulling yourself in closer to me subconsciously when I shift into such a basic form. It easier to move around like a human within my home when it’s drained like this, and besides, I haven’t exactly shown you my entire true form yet. The last thing I want to do is scare you as soon as you wake up. You’ve already suffered the trauma of being stolen away from me today. I don’t want to make things worse.

There. All you need to do is rest now. 

In my arms? Well, who am I to pull away from My Pearl when you’re clinging onto me so tightly in your sleep? 

I truly can never say no to you…

Just rest, Beloved. This creature shall keep you safe, tucked away deeply in his heart for all eternity. Once you open those glorious eyes of yours, our own adventure will start.

Just you and me, forever. 

I promise.

#cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere felix #yandere stray kids #yandere skz #yandere kpop #felix smut #felix scenarios #skz smut #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #kpop smut #kpop au #kpop scenarios #kraken au #chubby reader

[mistywaves98]

hi!! could u maybe write for smth abt yandere scaramouche liking to humiliate and degrade reader infront of the other harbingers?

no worries if u wouldn't like to write for this! just a suggestion :3

✧･ﾟ:* ->A/N: Mean scara supremacyyy 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

✧･ﾟ:* ->Harbinger! Scaramouche x Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Humiliation, Why is it so longg, Dirty talk, Degradation, Collaring/Leash, Exhibitionism, Forced company is implied, Hair Pulling, I think that's everything!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Minor writing smut! DNI if uncomfy!

A pet, that's all you were ever since you came here. A pet whose only purpose was to sit and look pretty beside the The Balladeer like some sort of trophy. And maybe, if he was bored enough, he would use you for...'entertainment'...

Your head was held low as the judgemental eyes of the Harbingers surrounding the table pierced through your soul. Some were of slight pity while other's looked amused and almost seemed to be mocking your unfortunate state. All their gazes felt even colder against your skin than the biting chill in the room. The slightest breeze that wafted against your skin had you shuddering, wishing you could be clothed in those warm coats the others wore. But no, you weren't deserving of such luxuries.

Instead, you were to sit on the freezing, marble floor next to his chair, wearing nothing but the skimpiest lingerie you've probably ever laid eyes on. Thin laces and straps dug into your delicate skin and you were sure that there'd be marks when you removed it later. The only things that really 'covered' your body were the purple thigh high stockings held up by the garter belt fastened around your waist. To top it all off, a pretty indigo collar inscribed with the words 'Scaramouche's Property' adorned your neck. One end of the leash was attached to the front, while the other was held in his hand.

Any normal person wouldn't dare to wear such scandalous outfits in front people with such status, but it's not like you had a choice. You curled up, trying to make yourself as small as possible as the meeting went on. It felt like hours and with every second that passed, you could feel yourself getting more miserable. At one point you wondered if you might catch frostbite.

Scaramouche was getting rather impatient too and it was apparent with the way he fidgeted with the leash, swaying it aimlessly and occasionally giving it a sharp tug which made your body fall forward slightly with a quiet whimper as the leather tightened around your neck, earning a snicker from him as he gazed down at your pathetic form from above. At one point your eyes connected with his and a shiver of dread ran down your body as you saw the way his violet irises bore into your own. Something dark was swirling around in them and your fears were only confirmed when he suddenly yanked your body up by the leash, making you choke from the sudden grip of the collar around your neck as you stumbled to your feet.

Those who were talking immediately went silent at this display, their eyebrows raised with amusement as they watched Scaramouche grab your face with his free hand to pull you down to his level. His lips brushed your ear as he whispered in a sultry tone that bled with malevolence,"I'm going to die of boredom if I have to listen to another word that comes out of the mouths of these insufferable idiots I call my colleagues. Why don't we spice things up a bit, hm?" Your body tensed as his warm muscle darted out to trace the shell of your ear, leaving no doubt as to what he was implying.

The option to protest was never there as within moments you were pinned to the conference table, the frigid surface meeting your stomach and cheeks, which were rapidly warming with embarrassment. You could feel the intrigued stares, watching with anticipation for what was to come. Unlike you, Scaramouche couldn't care less about what everyone else thought of this shameless sight as his hand on your face moved to teasingly cup your breast, giving it a squeeze before going down to trace the arch of your back till it eventually settled on your ass that was barely covered by the lacey panties of the lingerie set.

Your eyes widened and you squeaked in surprise from the harsh slap he suddenly gave the soft flesh, making it redden instantly from the impact. The colour on your cheeks darkened, even more so when he laughed sinisterly behind you. He leaned forward, pressing his body against yours, the fur of his coat tickling your face as he whispered in a harsh tone,"Oh? It seems like my little slut is enjoying this, are you not? Heh, I wouldn't expect anything less. I bet you want me to take you right here in front of everyone so that they can see your face contort like a whore from pleasure as I fuck you, hm?" Your silence only irritated him and his hand holding the leash dropped it and reached up to grip a fistful of your hair, pulling it back as his eyes narrowed impatiently,"Come on, speak up. Answer me using the same voice that screams my name whenever I rail your brains out." "...No, I wouldn't like th—" Your words are abruptly cut off when he shoves two fingers so deep into your mouth that they hit the back of your throat, making your eyes water as you gag around them. "Shut your fucking mouth and spare me your nonsense, you cock-sucking bitch. I'll make you love it, I'll make you addicted to the feeling of my cock penetrating those tight walls of yours."

The two digits remained in your wet cavern, pressing down on your tongue as his other hand hooked its fingers around the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to reveal your glistening cunt. The sight made him smile as he pulled back slightly, letting anyone nearby oogle at whatever they could see. He didn't mind showing off your body to others, rather, it thrilled him in many ways. The knowledge that people could look as much as they want, but not being able to lay a finger on his pet, satisfied his possessive desires and the fact you found it both embarrassing and indecent just made him want to do it more to humiliate you to the fullest.

"Suck." Scaramouche's raspy voice commanded as he pumped his slender digits in and out of your mouth, leaving you no choice but to obey. Drool pooled in the corners of your lips, eventually running down your chin and dripping onto the table as you reluctantly closed your pretty lips around his fingers. He felt pleased as he felt your tongue curling around them, the same way it did when he made you suck him off after a hard day.

While he kept your mouth busy with one hand, the other trailed up your slit, collecting your slick on his index and middle before holding it up for you and the rest of the table to see. Everyone's eyes were immediately glued to the way your essence dripped off his fingers like honey and that did nothing to ease your embarrassment. "Look at that, the arousal of a whore who gets turned on by her master showing her off." His enjoyment was evident in the shit-esting grin he gave you as he said that.

Suddenly, he pulled his hand away from your mouth, allowing you to breathe through it as he used both of them to grip your hips, lifting them slightly as he shifted himself between your legs. Once you were in his desired position, he shrugged off his obstructive coat before beginning to unbuckle his belt. As he did, he got close to your ear once again as he spoke in a tone full of evil intent,"You're so wet right now I don't think I even need to prepare your hole. So let's skip to the best part, shall we?" Once he had managed to pull down his pants and boxers just enough to let his aching cock free, he lined himself up with your pussy.

You craned your head to look back at him, eyes begging him to not go this far, but he only smirked at you in return. With no warning, Scaramouche thrusted forward, stuffing you to the brim with his girthy length as you hissed at the stretch. No matter how many times he fucked you, your pussy always seemed to remain as tight as a virgin's. He groaned in bliss as he felt your walls deliciously squeezing his cock, it was a feeling he could never get enough of. His hands found purchase on the fat of your hips, gripping the flesh so hard there'd surely be bruises afterwards.

Without wasting any more time, he began to thrust into you, picking up the pace quickly, making made sure to hit as deep as he possibly could. You bit your lip, trying to conceal the lewd moans you wanted to let out. Scaramouche didn't like that though and a guttural groan was elicited from your mouth as it fell open when his fingers grabbed a clump of your hair, yanking your head back harshly. It felt like he was going to rip your locks out of your scalp and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes from the pain. However, it didn't stop moans and whines from spilling past your parted lips as the pain mixed with the pleasure of his cock head kissing your cervix with every jerk of his hips.

He cackled at the sight before him, tightening his grip as he spoke,"That's right! Don't hold back those slutty moans, let everyone hear how good I'm fucking this needy cunt of yours!" He made sure to keep your head pulled back so all the Harbingers could get an eyefull of your pathetic state, completely at his mercy. It wasn't long before you could feel an orgasm building up and it made you desperate, desperate for more,"Please! Mnngh— more! Nghh! G-give me more, master!" Scaramouche's eyes lit up at the sound of your begging and the hand in your hair finally let go, giving you momentary relief before grasping the end of the leash and giving it a hard tug which made you cry out and arch your back instinctively. He continued to maintain his grip on the leash, using it as leverage while he was pounding you,"Yes, Good girl...keep begging for master's cock to keep filling this pussy over and over."

The speed of his thrusts never faltered, the sound of skin slapping as well as your moans and his grunts filled the room. You were beginning to get close and it was apparent in the way your noises heightened in pitch and the way your pussy convulsed around his cock. Scaramouche took this as a sign to increase his pace, determined to make you squirt all over him right in front of everyone in the room. The incessant penetration was making your head spin, mind turning to mush with every time he grazed that one spot that made you see stars. The way his breathing grew more laboured as his thrusts became more animalistic signalled that he was getting close too.

The knot in your stomach tightened, you were on the edge. "Go on, cum for me. Let everyone see what a slut you are, creaming all over my cock." You didn't need to be told twice. Your body tensed and with a moan of ecstasy, you came, gushing all over his cock and creating a wet ring around the base. He groaned in approval and it seemed that was enough to send him over the edge too as moments later he finally spilled himself inside you, creating lewd squelching noises as he fucked you through both of your highs. Your releases mixed together in a puddle on the floor, creating a filthy mess that neither of you cared about.

Eventually, he finally slowed down till he stopped altogether. The both of you lay there for a few moments, panting heavily. All eyes were on you, drinking in your fucked out face as you tried to make sense of anything again. Scaramouche recovered much quicker than you though and pulled out slowly, relishing the sight of his cock leaving your gaping hole before wiping the mess on your thigh. After tucking himself away in his pants, he picked up the nearly- forgotten coat and draped it over your tired form. He used the leash to pull you up so he could carry you in his arms, bridal style.

Then he turned around and began exiting the room, leaving everyone in slight disbelief as he spoke in a monotonous voice,"Continue the meeting without me, I have more important things to take care of right now." Without saying much else, he left the room while holding you to his chest, not even bothering about the mess the both of you made.

#smut #x reader smut #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*

[wanderingthinks]

NO TWs FOR THIS ONE!

Enjoy! ☆*: .｡. o(≧▽≦)o .｡.:*☆

[ORIGINAL POST HERE] please don't look at it it's horrendous

Original Lore:-

Instead of Sans working in a hotdog (head…dog?) stand, he works in the librar-by [heh gotcha] as a librarian. The timeline is set in a more old-timey era. Papyrus is still under Royal Guard training with Undyne being a newly-trained knight. Player here is NOT at all similar to canon Undertale. 

They get sucked into this Undertale Alternate Universe from a fan-made comic that was newly released in the market. The player, or rather READER [pun intended] retains all their memories from before. Since they already have a bit of knowledge about otherworldly beings and magic, they fit in well with the Research Community consisting of Sans, Gaster and Alphys (who eventually replaces him after his disappearance). 

After a while though, Reader starts looking for ways to return back to their home universe. Or the ‘Surface’ as the residents had informed them. They slowly start growing frustrated in their seemingly never-ending search for an escape, growing more and more unstable both physically and mentally as time ticks on. 

REVISED PORTIONS [30/12/2023]:-

Although having an unstable mind has more disadvantages than one could count, it only fuels our Reader’s DETERMINATION toward reaching their equally impossible goal. Asgore was a good friend toward them, and he had told them in one of their chats that the barrier can be broken with various methods. The one that Asgore himself had prepared for needed seven human souls. But of course, he wouldn’t want to sacrifice yours. You were his good friend. Upon further research, you come to find out that the souls of all monsters combined is equal to one human soul. That would be much better than risking your own soul, wouldn’t it?

Reader goes on a Genocidal frenzy, collecting all the souls of the unsuspecting monsters. [Please remember, this will NOT go in the canon order. Therefore, there will not be any Judgement Hall encounters since Reader has overwritten the Universe’s timeline with their mere presence. Even more so with their murder spree.] 

Once they’re done with that, they summon the souls of all the monsters and the six humans, therefore breaking the barrier and passing onto the ‘Undertale equivalent’ of their world. 

To describe this in a simple manner: ‘The Underground is tied to the real world.’ It is located somewhere under the ground and locked by several layers of magic so that no one can find its location. Essentially, the Underground is a portal to another world [not very simple hehe sorry] and you can’t go back to your original reality. What a bummer. BUT you can access an ‘Undertale parallel’ Universe of our current reality. Reader here is currently in that parallel reality after escaping the Underground, thinking that they are finally back in their world. Equipped with the overwhelming guilt of having killed their only friends and family [found family] along with the dangerous level of LOVE and DETERMINATION, they proceed with shaky steps back into their ‘world’.

*~END OF LORE~*

As usual, tagging my writer buddies and a few old moots~ @hahskeleton @grungepuppet @ghostinthepepper @solusminds @inka-boi

Feedback appreciated ヾ(＠^ー^＠)ノ

#undertale #utmv #utmv au #undertale au #sans au #undertale alternate universe #ut au #undertale multiverse #undertale fandom #undertale community #original au #ut sans #sans #sans undertale #undertale sans #asgore #fallen humans #sans aus #my au #readertale #anne's drabbles #fun fact: did you know this was my first au? #i had to work over it to make it a good concept JUST FROM A FEW SENTENCES LMAO #past me did NOT know how to write (not that i do know but atleast its better haha) #i spent over two hours researching souls and about the barrier holy sh- #i want my au to be accurate y'know *shrug*

[thowawayuntilfurthernotice]

With Saberspark, I've watched a lot of his livestreams, I don't think he's a cloutchaser. I think he's just not as smart as he puports himself to be. He's genuine. Just kinda not smart.

Like I do like him and regularly watch his videos, but more for his vibe than anything else and he does tend to spotlight lesser known content often as well.

But the guy is very obviously not very good at critical analysis and seems to be presenting and/or believing himself to be more intelligent in the subject than he actually is.

Also, I think the reason he likes HH/HB so much is more that his sense of humour aligns with those shows. He seems to be very easily swayed by his personal sense of humour and also the potential he tries to see in properties, which skews his opinions on media quality heavily.

I'd like to point out I say this not meaning any offense to Saberspark! I'm not calling him overall stupid, just not smart in this particular area.

I don't personally know the guy, so I won't pass any judgement on what he's like as a person.

I just think he has the same problem a lot of other YouTube reviewers have, which is making videos about a popular topic for clicks.

"Everyone is raving about The Circus Show? Gotta make a video on that!"

"Everyone is dunking on The Daily Wire's Bluey rip off on Twitter? Better make a video doing the same!"

It's all so predictable.

Though from what little clips I've watched of his videos, I do agree that he's really bad when it comes to criticizing media.

It's all very surface level criticism, and that's fine, but it's just so basic.

His videos feel like relics from the early 2010's era of YouTube. Lots of hyperbole, basic surface level observations, and fast paced editing.

What annoyed me the most about his Hazbin video was how generous he was being towards the toilet humor.

I was like "Man, if any other show did this, you'd be giving it shit. But because it's Hazbin, you're giving it a pass."

Again, I got nothing against Saberspark personally, I just don't get why so people seem to enjoy his videos while holding his opinions in such high regard.

#Ask #Vivziepop Critical #Hazbin Hotel Critical #Helluva Boss Critical #Media Criticism

[shiyorin]

This is inspired by loony

Ioony (Alpharius/Omegon x Reader)

TW: Yandere.

Alpharius watch in the shadows as usual, observing all yet revealed to none. His enhanced senses tracked each movement as plans took shape. Yet occasionally, amidst the shadows and intrigue, something... Intrigued him on a more individual level. 

You entered. Alpharius allowed his gaze to linger as you conferred softly with others, noting angles of your form, subtle nuances in tone and gesture.

Within his mind, analysis churned as always, strengths, weaknesses, potential vulnerabilities if turned against the Imperium. But in deeper recesses, another current stirred, one strange after millennia walled away from humanity's emotional tides.

He isolated each impression, the subtle play of muscle beneath skin as you moved, each minuscule alteration in breathing or posture conveying or concealing intent. Alpharius' psyche absorbed such intricacies effortlessly, yet analyzed them now with a frame altered.

Attempting simulation, he induced within himself the biochemical surges, corresponding physiological shifts. But like shaping smoke, the emotions themselves would not hold form no matter how perfectly rendered were their vehicles of expression. Unstable feelings gradually turned into something colder, paranoia?

That which watching you could only be described through antiquated, inexact concepts. Concepts like...love.

Was this what humans meant by "love"? An emotion so destabilizing it blurred clarity into chaos? Alpharius scoffed, even as uncertainty gnawed within. Only love, that illogical emotion create by the dissonant harmony your presence wrought. 

Your role here was unclear, its import unfathomed. But Alpharius suspected you will perceived that. How delicious it would be, to draw you in, see understanding kindle behind you at last.

Alpharius watched you leave. Your movements contained a lithe grace at odds with lethality honed within. A flickering spark awaiting tinder, or perfectly balanced steel? This thoughts pulsated, probably an impulse. Strange fruits of idleness, best pruned. 

He trailed your footsteps, mind alight with questions unasked. For now, it must remain a fleeting thought alone. But perhaps one day, when intrigues allowed... A word, a glance exchanged in passing, a meetings in somewhere. Entwining like a small diversion.

The thought pleased Alpharius, for the moment. He would let it linger awhile, hold it close, to be pondered in idle watches or drawn forth when solace was required.

A rare blossom amid plots marching to destruction, worthy of nurturing in ways even he did not comprehend.

***

You sat across from him as always, but you can't see him, or you can't know of his presence. And he still likes that, still and focused yet revealing nothing. A shadow, answering to one alone. 

Omegon watched you, worlds of speculation churning behind his obscured eyes. What did he truly see, this person shrouded in impenetrable calm? Could any mind withstand your assessing gaze, devoid of judgement yet probing deeper than fleeting surface?

Blankness sways, festering in the back of his throat. Your presence covered, enveloping, concealing all thoughts from intrusion. On your own, revealing nothing to avoid complication, choice or consequence. A clean existence, swimming placid as still waters while worlds collided around your edges.

You moved as through life were a dance, each gesture perfectly calibrated. Detached, you observed all yet revealed nothing, flickering nigh and gone like a little flame amidst machinery of war. 

Omegon was not one for fanciful words, but he understood their allure. With each glimpse of you passing by, he felt uncertainty stir within, a weak flame twitching fitfully to life at your nearness before extinguishing once more.

He did not need such complications. His works demanded perfect singularity of thought and action, without room for sentiments left unsaid. But in your gaze he sensed an invitation, to abandon identity, bleed away all traces of self until only nothing remained between him and you.

But reality persists, as do its obligations. For Alpharius or Omegon, duty must always come first. And in that, perhaps, lay fullest contiguity with the mysterious called you. 

Omegon kept his silence, locking away this vagrant fancy deep within where even Alpharius could not discern its shape. For one who lives divided can ill afford distraction, no matter how fleeting or sincere the source.

If a seed of something more lingered in the fragility of heart, such trivialities held no place in their meticulous design.

#wh40crack #tw: yandere #cw: yandere #yandere au #reader insert #romantic stuff in 40k #actually i don't think it's romantic #It's been so long since I wrote yandere #primarch x reader

[twstwinnie]

Your writing is just soo good! The way you write the characters (especially floyd and rook). Can i ask something similar to the floyd relationship headcanons but with rook? Also, can I be 🍯 🏹 anon?

♜ With You ~ Rook Hunt

summary: in a relationship with Rook Hunt! As per usual, we have our crushing, followed by a confession, then relationship stuff and reactions!

tags: hurt/comfort, fluff, mutual pining, gn! reader

a/n: hi! thank you so much for your request! and ah, tysm for the compliment that’s so sweet! and absolutely! anons are free to label themselves and I’ll give you a special little tag for your requests! It’s lovely to meet you, 🍯🏹 anon! I hope you enjoy this specially curated Rook content! — winnie ♥︎

♜ starry - eyed !

» Rook, surprisingly, is the type to not truly realize how he feels about you until some time has passed. At first, he feels as if he just appreciates your beauty— as he does with Vil. That he wants to be in your presence to appreciate said beauty more often. He’s content with that excuse for a while because it makes sense. Who wouldn’t want to be around you? You were amazing— surely, this was a natural thing to feel.

» As time passes, the excuse becomes less viable. While typically, he’d be content just watching you from afar, hanging out only occasionally— he starts longing to be by your side more. He wants to hear your voice— hear you talk about your passions. He wants to divulge his own interests with you. He wants to share, with you, his private hobbies— just because he knows you won’t judge. He knows you’ll show interest because you’ve never said anything cruel or off-standing like so many others had.

» This isn’t how he feels towards Vil, he realizes. This isn’t even similar to how he feels towards people that interest him— like the Leech twins or Leona— no… what he feels for you is something he never thought he’d be able to experience. Something he once thought that someone like him was never deserving of, or was too strange to even dream of. Longing, adoration. He had a crush and you were the subject of his affections. He’s a little hesitant at first— would this end like some sort of Shakespearean tragedy? Would he really get the romantic ending he was hoping for?

» Rook was fully aware of how others felt about him. “Creepy,” “Stalkerish,” and “Weird” were all words he heard to describe him, whether directly or when they figured he couldn’t hear. In the face of such unsavory rumors, would you truly ever view someone like him as a romantic prospect? Was liking you worth potential heartbreak? Would it not be safer to just admire your beauty from afar like an untouchable jewel? Away at a safe distance?

» But he can’t. Because when that thought sneaks up on him, you smile at him warmly. You insist that the rumors mean nothing to you. It brings him back to the many times you’ve watched him draw a bow with absolute awe, asking him to teach you the moment his arrow hit his target. He remembers the time he revealed his photo album to you, and instead of judgement, you smiled and complimented his photography skills, asking him to teach you. He quickly realizes that you’ve had plenty of opportunities to reprimand him for his hobbies but you never did. Instead, you wanted to take part— to understand him. It was a sentiment that truly touched his heart.

» Everyone else he’d met had been so quick to judge him. They saw his title as a hunter as an excuse to be strange— saw his demeanor as startling and irritating. They automatically assumed that his appreciation for beauty was shallow at best and just another flimsy cover. But you… you never thought that. You ignored the biased, cautionary comments and in him you found a truly good person. You saw Rook’s true colors and showed him warmth and openness in return. You never showed him unfair judgment based on surface level assumptions. You’d taken the time to get to know him— to appreciate him.

» It shouldn’t have been surprising to Rook that he developed an undying adoration for you. After all, he’d opened up to you in a way that he had for no one else before. You learned things about him that he’d never told anyone else before and you always responded so enthusiastically. Of course he’d come to enjoy your company more than anyone else’s. He could just be himself around you. He didn’t have to always be the unbothered, flamboyant hunter with you. He could admit that hearing such ugly things about himself got to him. He could admit such things knowing that you’d show genuine understanding. You’d always reassure his worries and it warmed his heart.

» But Rook was observant… he knew that with how kind you were, it was impossible that he was the only one who was fond of you. Could he truly size up to any possible competitor? Sure, Rook appreciated beauty but sometimes he… struggled to find that beauty within himself. Would he be enough to charm and enchant you? Could he sweep you off your feet and cherish you in the way a gem like you deserved? He wasn’t quite certain.

» With how observant he was, he couldn’t get a read on how you felt about him. He’d overheard conversations where you’d mentioned him and it’d been nothing but praise and approval— but nothing that signified a romantic interest. The uncertainty of it all only made him more weary. It had even seeped into his day to day routine! He wanted to handle it swiftly lest he develop bags beneath his eyes.

» But he couldn’t find a solution. He was in his club, idly staring into the concoction in his cauldron, entirely spaced off, deep in thought about you as per usual. He softly sighed and soon enough, Trey walked up beside him and cleared his throat.

» “That’s the third sigh in ten minutes. Mind if I ask what’s wrong?” He pushed his glasses back up his face. Rook snapped out of his thoughts and gave a bright smile before his expression fell just a hair.

» “Ah, merci, Chevalier des Roses. I’m sorry that my stupor has distracted you, but I could appreciate some sound advice. For a while, I’ve found myself entirely smitten with someone, but I fear I’m not enough to become the one they can rely on. I want to be with them, but I find myself hesitating as I am unable to get a read on them despite my status as a hunter.” Rook explained with an exasperated sigh before looking back to the other. Trey gave a sympathetic smile before humming a bit.

» “Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t think you can make that decision for them. And if I’m correct on my observations, I know exactly who you’re talking about. They’re the only one who can truly decide whether you’re enough for them or not. So, you shouldn’t let it stop you. Tell them. You might find yourself surprised, you know.” Trey explained with a small, knowing smile. Rook’s curiosity was piqued, but he didn’t pry, instead taking the advice to heart.

» Beauty was in the eye of the beholder, no? You’d always called him beautiful, so who was Rook, as le chasseur d’amour, to deny you the ability to make your own judgment? He owed it to you, yes? You never made unfair judgements of him, so who was he to assume what you would want in a partner? He had to tell you, to let his feelings be known to allow you to make your own decision.

» Besides, perhaps Trey was right. Maybe he’d be surprised. Maybe there was something he couldn’t see that others did? Either way, he snapped out of his thoughts with a renewed determination.

» He’d tell you how he felt with beautiful words of his own. And perhaps if he was lucky, you’d be able to see him in a romantic light. Maybe you’d see the beauty in him that he saw in so many others. Maybe— just maybe— you’d decide he was the one you could rely on as a partner.

» Only time could tell, and it was ticking away! He had a plan to make.

♜ say the words !

» Rook wants to be honest about the emotions he feels for you. He wants to be able to have that conversation because there’s a certain beauty to the pure love and adoration he feels towards you. Scripting his confession would be abhorrent! Though, setting the stage on the other hand, that’s incredibly important— an absolute must! If the stage isn’t set to be an absolutely beautiful setting for his confession, that’d be unheard of! You deserved the absolute best and he planned to give it to you.

» As much as he wanted to do something showy and flashy in public, he was observant enough to realize that you’d likely want it to be a private affair. Besides, he doesn’t want to pressure you by putting you in the public eye for something so intimate and vulnerable. Rook didn’t think he wanted to show that side of himself to others, either. Eventually, he sought out Trey for assistance once more. He seemed to be knowledgeable and insightful enough, and right he was.

» Trey recommended a dinner in the botanical gardens. Magnifique! Simple, yet touching! How had he not thought of it himself? Plus, the gardens were gorgeous at night time— and they were secluded enough where he’d be able to enjoy the privacy with you. It also helped that in such an enclosed space, as a hunter, he’d be privy to any potential watchers. He’d make sure it stayed between you and him alone. He didn’t want an audience.

» With a plan set, he began to prepare. Admittedly. It was quite obvious to Vil what was going on. Rook had a bit more pep in his step and was genuinely smiling a lot more than usual. Instead of smiling out of obligation or smiling “just because,” there seemed to actually be a reason. It was only natural after spending so much time together that Vil would take notice and comment on it.

» “I must say, Rook. You’ve been glowing recently and I know it isn’t due to any magic of mine. What has you expressing yourself so radiantly as of late?” Vil questioned and Rook couldn’t help but smile in response, his thoughts immediately flying him you.

» “Ah, Roi du Poison. I’ve just finally decided to take action regarding something. This radiance… it’s a product of romance. I’m finally sharing that with someone I hold dear to me, and I’m simply looking forward to it.” Rook explained, a soft expression flashing across his face at the thought. Vil hummed in thought.

» “Love, hm? It suits you well. I wish you the best of luck in your pursuit. There’s a unique beauty to it all that I’m sure you’ll find yourself pleased with.” Vil expressed with a rare, kind smile. Rook felt his heart skip a beat. To think that even someone as critical as Vil gave his approval? He must’ve been taking the right path— doing the right thing.

» Rook had more confidence going into the confession after his brief encounter with Vil, plus added encouragement from Trey (who seemed to know a lot more than he let on… always the quietly observant that Rook had to watch out for). When it came time to invite you out to dinner, he kept most of it a secret from you. It was a nice surprise, given that he seldom kept secrets from you these days, but he truly wanted the experience to be breathtaking. He wanted to blow you away.

» So he just vaguely invited you out, insisting that he’d pick you up and take you to your destination himself. You’d gotten ready and as promised, Rook escorted you to the botanical gardens, having you keep your eyes closer to increase the suspense. When you arrived and open your eyes, you were absolutely taken with the sight before you.

» He had prepared a small table with your favorite foods and desserts, as well as a bouquet of your favorite flowers. The gardens were decorated with soft fairy lights, candles and embellishments that painted such a gorgeous picture. In your awestruck state, he led you to your seat, pulling out your seat for you in traditional Pomefiore mannerisms. Once you were settled, you both ate, having joyous conversation over the meal.

» Rook’s nervousness built up, though. He couldn’t help but think back to the countless comments from his peers. He was a stalker, a creep— could he truly make you happy? He needed only to glance at your expression to quell his fear, though. The genuine smile you wore spoke volumes. He could make you this happy. You adored him for who he was— so he should trust that you’ll make the decision that’ll make you happy. And that’s all he wants.

» He takes your hand in his, kissing your hand gently before looking at you.

» “Mon ange, I must admit… I had some underlying motives in inviting you out and creating such a beautiful display. For a while now, I’ve found myself smitten with you. I’ve always been taken by your beauty… but your kindness, honesty. Your understanding… it’s made me feel a deep adoration for you. You see beauty in me that others do not. I wanted to finally expose these pure feelings of mine to ask— will you be mine?” Rook questioned, allowing the question to hang heavy in the air. Your eyes widened at such a genuine confession and Rook could hear the way your heartbeat picked up in pace.

» Patiently, he waited for you to find the proper words, a little nervous for the response, but eventually you laughed and smiled brightly, hugging him tightly before pulling back to cup his face in your hands. You looked at him with a fond, adoring expression that left him speechless. But then your words…

» “Oh of course I’ll be yours. You’ve absolutely enchanted me, Rook. You’ve positively stolen my heart— I’m so happy you asked.” You chimed and he laughed joyously, leaning his head against yours as he enjoyed the closeness.

» The feelings blooming between you both created a comfortable, warm atmosphere that Rook had never experienced. Hearing such fond things that he once only dreamed to hear from you— it was surreal. And Rook thought that Vil was right.

» The beauty of requited, pure love was unique indeed. Something that he had never experienced before— but was elated to share with someone as angelic as you.

♜ at last , with you !

» Once he is finally with you, Rook finds it far easier to deflect the comments of his peers. After all, he knows you don’t care for such nasty rumors and your opinion is the one he values most. You always reassure him that the comments are absolute nonsense. You love him, adore his hobbies and interests, and would never view him in such a negative light. He trusts you over them since you know of his true nature— and despite knowing his true self, you still chose him over so many others. It gave him comfort— confidence. But you always seem to have that profound effect on him. And he adores it.

» You’re both quite good at keeping your relationship private for a while. Rook is able to brush off his touchiness and kisses to your cheek as his normal, forward demeanor. No one bats an eye, however, when people start asking why you hang around him so much, you take personal offense and expose the truth. How dare they assume that it isn’t entirely mutual? You adore Rook just as much and you tell them such.

» Of course, rumors fly. People insist that the hunter must have something on you— that there must be some underlying scheme at play. Rook doesn’t even have to defend himself because you’re quick to retaliate— to insist that it isn’t strange in the slightest. Rook is beautiful, kind, reliable and incredibly thoughtful. He sees beauty in everyone when they don’t even try to do the same for him. It’s only natural that’d you’d fall for his charming nature.

» Luckily, you have plenty of supporters. Vil was the first to learn before anyone else. After all, Rook knew he couldn’t keep it from his dorm leader, so he just told him. And Vil responded with a kind smile, insisting that you two were a beautiful pair. Honestly, Vil was just happy that his vice had found someone so kind and caring. Vil was never able to get Rook to open up as a friend, at least, not about his more unsavory feelings. So he was happy to see that the hunter had found you. You were compassionate, and you never judged Rook by his cover like many others did. Vil appreciated it and knew he wouldn’t have to worry. You both complimented one another perfectly, and grew radiant in each other’s presence. Truthfully, Vil saw it as ridiculous that many strangers found your coupling to be unlikely. Did they not see the way you both looked at each other? It was pure, mutual fondness and adoration. They were a bunch of rank amateurs if they couldn’t see that.

» Following Vil, Trey soon found out as well. He wasn’t shocked in the slightest and Rook soon learned that it was because you had confided in Trey about your own feelings towards Rook. Things suddenly clicked for him— no wonder Trey had been so encouraging. He had the entire truth the whole time. Trey laughed, apologized from keeping it from both you and Rook, but he never needed to say sorry, Rook thought. It worked out and the result was everything he wanted and more. Trey knew it would work out and he’s not incredibly romantic, but he does think that if true love exists like in the fairy tales, then you two are the picture book definition of it. Plucked straight from a children’s book… the love between you both was clear as day. He knew you both would be able to face whatever obstacle came your way. He was happy it had worked out.

» Rook is grateful that his friends are so supportive— and that yours are as well. Though, how could they not be? Rook greeted you every day with compliments, a kiss on the hand and a look that expressed his pure devotion. He often got you flowers, wrote you poems, made you small treats— he’s gotten you various gifts, as well. Some pertain to your own hobbies, but he even got you your own bow and arrow so he could make a date out of teaching you archery. He kept you smiling— kept you happy. It’d be a crime for any of your friends to disapprove.

» Rook loves spending time with you, so dates are frequent— specified days of the week are date nights, and making it a regular part of your schedule is a must. Some days, Rook takes part in your hobbies, other days, you take part in his. He begins to teach you archery, gives you pointers on hunting— but both of your favorites is when he takes you out to enjoy theatre performances with him.

» His eyes light up as he rambles before the show. During the show, he’s absolutely taken by the sight and you find yourself splitting your attention between enjoying the performance and watching your awestruck hunter with a smile. Then, after the performance, he gives you his feedback, asks for yours, and engaging conversation ensues. Performance nights always end with you spending the night with Rook because you both just… never want the conversation to end. In all honesty, you never do on any date night, but that feeling is especially prominent when you get to see that excited, rambling side of Rook that he rarely shows others.

» So you spend the night by his side. He talks to you about various shows that you could watch next time— all whilst you lean against him, happy to just listen to him talk about his passion. Rook is always incredibly appreciative that you let him rant and ramble— it’s rare that he gets the opportunity, even more so that someone shows genuine interest like you do. It only makes him adore you more, if that’s even possible.

» Of course, with all of the fun comes the less desirable topics. Namely, Rook discloses how big a fan of Neige LeBlanche he is. At first, you don’t think it’s a big deal, but are quick to realize that his status with Vil essentially makes it a betrayal of sorts. He expresses that it’s conflicting to be a genuine fan of them both— that it’s hard. You reassure him as you always do. You tell him that he’s an appreciator of beauty— he cannot be asked to pretend not to find something beautiful for someone else’s sake. But you understand that he doesn’t want to anger Vil and offer him a space to talk about any of his interests with you. Any of them includes things like being in Eternal Snow. That sort of thing doesn’t phase you anyhow. It never has.

» Rook smiles and thanks you, happy to have someone else to share his interests with. It only proves why he chose you in the first place— you were always so understanding of him. In the face of his fears and insecurity, you never once bat an eye. You never hesitated to assure him— to insist that he was loved. He’s never once felt shame, abhorrence, or upset about who he was when with you. He’s able to push other people’s judgments aside because you love him. You see his kindness, his vulnerability— and love him truly for it.

» In you, Rook finds someone he’s finally comfortable sharing his life with. He finds someone who’ll support him unconditionally despite what others may view as “strange.” He doesn’t have to worry about you prying if he doesn’t want you to because you’d never cross any boundaries with him. You’re just… incredibly respectful and loving towards him in a way that he’d never experienced before. It’s warm, happy, and he must say, it makes him shine brighter than ever before.

» As an appreciator of beauty, he’s able to find it in even the most imperfect of situations. You helped him find beauty in himself. Perhaps it’s a little biased to say, but Rook thinks that the beauty you hold is his absolute favorite.

» Pure, undying love and affection. Coming from one of the kindest, most genuine people he knows. Really, does it get any more beautiful than that?

— fin.

#twisted wonderland fanfiction #twisted wonderland x reader #twst fanfic #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twst headcanons #twst rook #twst rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt headcanons #winnie-writes #winnie-wishes #wishes-from-🍯🏹

[malcontentmathador]

"Talk to ME"

While watching DDS2 cutscenes in Japanese on youtube I stumbled upon pretty interesting differences with the English localisation in the Vritra pre-boss cutscene. (English reference, Japanese reference)

DISCLAIMER: I am still learning Japanese and it's completely possible I made mistakes! I'll only speak of things I am reasonably certain I got right.

English Heat says "I told you I was strong, Sera", while Japanese Heat (Hito) simply says that he's acquired "the greatest power".

When Sera asks that he let her talk to God, Heat responds with "Talk to ME!" while Hito claims that he is God.

Those are small differences but they make the scene read very differently to me. In English, Heat flaunts his newfound strength in Sera's face, but he is clearly still bitter about her choosing Serph over him; the first line is a direct callback to his words in DDS1: "Serph can't protect you! Can't you see that I'm stronger than him!?". In Japanese, there's no reference to that scene being made, as far as I can tell, and Hito is just on a MASSIVE power trip.

His response to Sera asking to talk to God is somewhat incoherent in both versions: Japanese Heat is kind of delusional, English Heat doesn't actually answer her at all. But again the English localization emphasizes Heat's affection for Sera. Both lines convey the same idea - that Sera should talk to him and not to God - but for different reasons: Hito is so gorged off his own strength that he thinks he is on the same level as God, while English Heat doesn't suggest anything of the sort; he's throwing a tamper tantrum that she could want to talk to anyone but him. Again, he's still hurt that she chose Serph over him, he wants her all to himself, and his jealousy and anger surface in this incredibly possessive expression of his affection.

I don't have any judgement to pass on these versions here, I haven't seen enough of the Japanese to say if I prefer it or not. I just thought it was cool how localization can subtly change the whole tone of a scene while still rigorously saying the same thing.

#digital devil saga 2 #smt #heat #sera #localization

[lowlights]

Too much and not enough (Gardener Din for Kinktober)

Too much and not enough

Victorian Gardener!Din x f!reader

W.C. 2k

Warnings: Forbidden relationship, PinV unprotected sex, overstimulation, soft dom Din, reader is a bit subby, fingering, titty love, a bit of begging, overstimulation, creampie, some post-O tears, praise, lots of feelings. Takes place several months into their entanglement.

The Language of Flowers | Kinktober schedule | Absurdthirst's Kinktober prompts

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

You rush through the beaten-down path flanked by wispy tall grass that hangs heavy with dew. It clings to the bottom of your gauzy nightdress, a reminder of the early hour; the only time you can escape to see him. It’s that eerie time when it isn’t still night but it certainly isn’t the morning, where the moon doesn’t shine as bright but the sun hasn’t bothered to wake yet. You can see Din’s little cottage ahead with tendrils of smoke wafting up from the chimney. 

Good, he hasn’t left to start the morning chores yet. 

Din likes to wake up early and tend to the flowers, especially in the summer when the sun beats down and overheats his tanned skin, but the season is starting to change and bend towards the cold and the flowers are starting to wane. You pound on the door, out of breath from your trek across the grounds. The small wood cottage sat tucked away and out of view from the main house and had become the setting of more than one rendezvous over the past few months. 

You pound on the door again and silently beg DIn to answer. You need him right now like a sunflower craning towards the sky searching for light, as though your survival depends on it. In an answer to your prayer, he finally throws open the door and you launch yourself into his embrace. Your lips crash against his as a frantic need overtakes you both. 

“It’s been too many days this time,” he breathes out between kisses. 

“I couldn’t get away, I’m so sorry, my love,” you murmur against his lips. If only you could feel how his heart beats faster when you call him your love. 

The last few weeks have been packed with soirées and fox hunts and a seemingly-endless string of boring events filled with stuffy aristocrats. Days have passed by in a blur of fake laughter and surface-level conversations laden with subtext, snide, and judgement. Here, in this cottage and with this man, you could just be yourself. 

The rest of the world always falls away, and all that’s left is him. 

His hands roam all over your body, lifting you up with ease and guiding your legs around his waist. His lips never leave your skin and you tug on his tousled curls as he walks you towards the small bed in the corner of the room. Lowering you to the soft mattress, he steps back to give you space to kick off your shoes. He must have been in the middle of dressing as his shirt is already untucked, something that allows him to make quick work of pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor. He kicks off his trousers and stands before you, towering and broad and deliciously naked. 

“Sweetheart, take off your nightdress,” he commands, stroking his half-hard cock in his hand. “I want to see all of you.” 

You obey and sit up on your knees, pulling the thin fabric over your arms and letting it drop next to his own pile of clothes. You should care that it’s getting dirty - how would you explain a muddy stain on your nightclothes to the laundress- but you don’t care in the slightest. Din’s gaze has you captivated and you can feel your mouth go dry with the want that you see in his eyes. 

He looks like he wants to consume you, and you both know you would let him. 

You lean back on the bed and Din crawls towards you, his erection pressed tight to your lower belly. You wrap your legs around his thighs and pull him flush against you. He smells like lye and rosemary soap with an undercurrent of myrtle from where he was working in the garden yesterday. He smells like the earth, and the sun, and the most comforting thing in the world. 

He runs his thumb along your jar as he takes in your face for the first time in weeks. Well, the first time he’s been able to see you up close. He’s caught glimpses of you from afar, always sitting off to the side or politely sipping tea and staring off into the garden. His hoped that you were searching for him in the distance, desperate for a glance just like he was for you. 

Thinking about it fills him with a familiar rage. How dare these people not recognize that they are in the presence of the most singular woman that’s ever existed. Do they not understand how lucky they are to listen to your thoughtful words and witness your gorgeous smile? Din would give up everything if it meant he could just be near you, to touch your skin and remind himself that you’re real. 

He’s brought back to the moment when you slip his thumb into your mouth, sucking lightly and looking up at him with wide eyes to see if it was something he liked. In the months that you have been with Din you’ve explored many different things, but sometimes you still surprised yourself with your impulses. You could tell that it brought him back from wherever his thoughts had led him. 

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sorry. I’m here,” he says before kissing you deeply. He settles down next to you and lets his hand roam down your body, twisting one of your pert nipples before finding it’s way between your legs. “Wet for me already? Good. I need you ready for me.” 

You whimper as he drags his finger through your folds. “Please, Din. Please.”

He dips his thick middle finger in, gently working you open with his eyes trained on your face. He is obsessed with every minute change to your expression, from the way your eyes widen slightly to the way your mouth drops open into a small little o. Din knows just where to curl his finger in the way that makes you squirm, and he gives you a swift and soft orgasm in minutes. 

He kisses down your neck until he can suck on your breasts, one and then the other, leaving a trail of saliva across your skin. You never knew how sensitive your tits were until he lavished them with attention one night, bringing you to your peak without having to even touch your leaking cunt. It was a fact he had never forgotten, and knew that he could work you up with a few expert flicks of his tongue across your sensitive little buds. 

“Please, I need you,” you babble, holding his head to your chest as he continued moving his finger in and out of you languidly. 

“How do you need me, sweetheart?” he asks before moving back to your other breast. 

“I-I need you - saints above, Din - I need you terribly,” you moan, shuddering when Din unexpectedly presses on your clit with his wide thumb. 

Din’s only response is to slip another one of his fingers into you and start moving them in and out with more vigor. His cock is leaking pre-cum all over your thigh and you wonder how much he will make you beg for it before finally giving in and giving you want you both want. No- what you both need. 

Your noise of protestation is shushed by his thumb pressed against your lips. “Soon. I want another one from you first. And you need to ask me for exactly what you want,” he directs, making your body light up with anticipation. His swift fingers and clever, clever mouth give you another orgasm that rolls over your body like a rumbling summer storm. 

“Tell me what you want,” Din whispers against your lips. “Please.” He begs for you just as you beg for him. 

Your back arches but the weight of his arm across your torso keeps your steady. “Please, I need you inside of me. Want to be so full of you, darling.” 

Din angles himself over your body and pushes deep inside your warmth, both of you sighing with relief. It’s been far, far too long since you were able to join as you were always meant to. He moves as soon as he sees your face relax, pulling almost all of the way out of you before pushing back in again. The frenetic energy between you builds again, and you briefly wonder if the sparks you feel dancing across your skin are a real, literal thing that would light up the night. 

Din’s face is blanketed in shadows, backlit from the warm glow of the fireplace, and you wish that you could see what he looks like in this perfect moment. His dark eyes are probably darker than normal, and you can tell from his moans that he is probably biting down into his plush bottom lip. You drag your nails up along his back, perhaps a bit harder than you mean to, and you know that there will be marks there when the morning finally arrives. The thought of seeing your scratches on his body, coupled with his thrusts that hit just right, send you back over the edge. 

You barely have a moment to recover before he is rubbing his thumb against your clit once again, although this time you’re stuffed full of him as well. “Need to feel you squeeze me, you’re so tight, sweetheart,” he coos as he makes you feel like your skin is on fire when you cry out his name. 

You’re so delirious you’ve lost count of how many times he’s made you come - three? Four? His pace falters and he spills himself into you, hips rutting against you as he tries to draw out every sensation. You cling to him as he finishes, chests rising and falling together, as he leaves sloppy kisses along your sweaty neck. Although he is softening inside of you, he reaches down again to rub against your clit and where the two of you are connected. Your nerves have been alight since before you stepped into his cottage, and now you think you might combust. 

“Din, oh my…Din, too much. Oh god,” you cry, torn between the exhaustion of your body and your need for more of him. Sobs wrack your body and tears of joy and ecstasy roll down your cheeks. 

He relents without hesitation, finally slipping out of you and collapsing across half of your body. His spend dribbles from you and he pushes it back in, both of you more than aware of the dangerous game you’re playing and what consequences it could have. But you want every bit of it, every bit of him. You shudder as he grazes across your overly-sensitive bundle of nerves and he kisses the salty tear tracts on your cheeks in apology. 

Both of your chest heave, sticky skin against sticky skin, and you can’t imagine having to untangle yourself from him. Ever. This fact had become clear to you weeks ago but you didn’t know what to do with the heavy emotions just yet. How could you ever be really together? 

“You’re perfect, sweetheart. So perfect.” Din sighs against you as you scratch his scalp with your nails. He tweaks your nipple again with playful gentleness, chuckling when you yelp and laugh at him. He always, always wants more. 

But what does that mean for your future? Would you ever have your fill of each other? 

What do you do when forever isn’t long enough?

⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹

A/N: I hope you enjoyed <3

Up next: Begging with BrujitaVerse Pero on Oct. 8

#gardener din #victorian au #din djarin #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #kinktober

[spotaus]

Had a bunch of Doppletale ideas during my shower so I'm putting then under the Cut!

1) Kale stays underground for a really long time (<- That one's already established. It's like, 6-7 years I believe?) But I think that it's drawn out so long because, not only is K terrified (rightfully so) but Sans is also *extremely* hesitant to tell K about the rest of the underground. Like, he explains if she outright asks him, he wouldn't lie, but even then he cautions her with the most grave explanation when she asks about going past Waterfall for the first time. The further away from Snowdin she ventures, the less he can ensure she's safe. He's honestly terrified for the day she goes to see Asgore. He knows he'll have to Judge her, and that he'll have to accompany her to Asgore, and the last time he escorted someone to the barrier he snapped and killed them just before reaching the king. No matter how many years she's been around and how much better he gets with physical contact, he's so afraid he'll lose himself in that Judgement Hall again.

2) The barrier is fundamentally misunderstood by the monsters of the underground. They believe that to pass the barrier, Monsters must eat Humans and become 'human-like' to escape. This came about after Chara fell and the royal family adopted them. Chara was only a human child, and back then no one was starving. The royal family had recently had Asriel, so when Chara came to them, they thought the best way to teach their son to transform was to have a real human to mimic. Chara was off-limits for meals, and they grew up alongside Asriel as his sibling. Then one day Chara fell ill (ran out of human-food) and Asriel insisted that they go to the surface to get Chara more food. No one saw the whole story. How Chara was coughing blood as they exited the barrier, abd how they were holding Asriel's hand as he slipped through right behind them, disguised as a human child. The monsters had assumed that Asriel ate Chara and escaped the barrier. When Asriel returned to the underground, it was months later, and he only came back because he'd been spotted as a "changeling" by the villagers and had been attacked, separated from Chara and the family he'd been staying with. He "died" inside the barrier, unable to explain how he'd escaped in the first place. (He takes the form of Chara often when he's Flowey if only because it's one of the few faces he remembers.) So, the monsters assumed they had to be perfectly human by consuming more humans to escape. They're wrong. (It actually takes a human putting trust into a monster to give them the chance to cross, and the monster has to view the human as something other than food. As an equal. So, for the barrier to break, the entire underground has to recognize, on some level, that a human is more than food.)

3) Ghost Monsters don't eat Humans, and therefore are the most sane monsters underground by far. All four ghost-monsters were haunting objects that were held onto by humans that had been killed by the monsters, and ended up trapped underground by accident. The only time Ghost Monsters pose a threat is when they try to possess a human. The Ruins Ghost inhabits a dummy (one that's unsettlingly human-shaped that looks like it's been gnawed on by the ruins monsters quite a bit) and it has no intention of harming humans, though it will occasionally appear behind humans or in corners without warning. Napstablook is actually harmless, but wails and cries like a tortured soul. The only thing that calms him is his music. Mad Dummy ends up being the most dangerous Ghost to humans, but much like ruins dummy he inhabits a strange human-anatomy dummy in the waste-dump. He desperately wants a human to possess so he can pass the barrier and escape his wrongful imprisonment. Lastly MTT is obviously still in his robot-body, but as a monster who stays sane while Alphys goes insane, as Sans leaves, as everyone around him starves, he stays adamant that he has to look out for those who aren't able to care for themselves. (In this AU he's never Box shaped.)

3.5) MTT hosts the radio underground. After Alphys damaged him with a trap, he decided that he couldn't bring himself to be on-screen. Instead he uses Alphys' camera system to broadcast a sort of news-station to all the radios in the underground. He's the Star of the underground, and a lot of monsters would claim that MTT was the only reason they didn't lose sanity already. His daily broadcasts always had something new, even after countless years, as his voice was calming and friendly, something monsters didn't have enough of. His very last broadcast is one where he announces it's his last broadcast, because the Barrier is broken. (I also think he'd eventually offer to endorse K to the underground citizens, which has a lot more sway than anyone expects in making Monsters not want to immediately devour K.) (Maybe he's even on the radio when/before K has to speak with Asgore, to take calls from the underground asking opinions on "the Kindness Soul" roaming the underground, and it's a shocking amount of Positivity that they get in response???)

3.6) On the surface, MTT would genuinely become some sort of influencer online. He'd probably love to do Storytimes or Vlogs, and have like a d.i.y. channel. He uses this popularity he gains to slowly but surely change the public opinion on monsters (at least some of them) and help advocate for them to not be ostracized. With advancements in tech, he wouldn't be immediately grouped with the monsters when appearing, so as someone from "outside" either side of the drama and such a positive force he could gather some support. (However, Papyrus and Blooky remain his #1 fans no matter how many new ones he gains.)

And finally, @oodlesndoodles because I promised I'd @ them, and Ood is the designer of Kale/K, the human mentioned for Doppletale's True Pacifist route!

#utmv #oc #utmv sans #utmv au #doppletale #dopple!sans #pretender!sans #pretender #kale #kale estrella #k #dopple!kindness #sans #alphys #flowey #undertale au #cannibalism tw #tw cannibalism #tw body horror #death tw #tw death #tw possession #I had to post these or I'd forget lol #also unrelated but Paps still loves MTT (but his radio show now) and when K gets rlly hurt in the Lab it's the reason the two meet #and I'm thinking they're unironically really good friends after everything when they're on the surface because MTT can help Paps adjust to #human trends a lot faster than Pretender or K could. this has the backlash of Papyrus saying things like 'spill the tea' and 'girly-pop' !

[the-cat-at-the-theatre-door]

Coricopat and Mistoffelees with Coricopat POV, if you want to

There is something...unique about you - uneasy, raw - but somehow profound.

-Jaal Ama Darav (Mass Effect: Andromeda)

Coricopat believes, in however many years he’s been on the planet, however many lifetimes, that he has become a good judge of character. 

...

Perhaps that is unfair; he believes that the telepathic abilities granted to him by the Everlasting Cat has made his ability to get a moderately complete read on cats within moments of meeting them of statistically higher quality than the average tom.

That was more accurate.

So one would think, then, that when it came to matters of companionship, of developing and budding connection, that he was otherwise at a higher advantage than others; however, the truth was (and perhaps always would be) that this was simply not the case. 

Coricopat’s handle on the abilities granted to him were about as strong as they were wont to be, but applying them practically to situations where practicality was perhaps demanded wasn’t always something he was able to do. Heavy and rapt contemplation and introspection was a forte moreso of his sister; she was able to learn cats quicker than they could open their muzzles, which was fascinating, surely, but often - in her words - boring. Of course that wasn't to say he was incapable of such depth of thought and analyzation; he was more than well equipped. But Coricopat is only flesh and blood; his heart bled and his tongue often tripped over itself were he not careful. There had been more than one occasion where he'd received the judgement of "creepy" or "unsettling" before he'd even had the chance to make their acquaintanceship. And while that did not cause him the level of upset it perhaps should (or, at least, that's what he'd repeated to himself enough times until he started to believe it), it had prompted him to change his approach early on. Jellylorum had said that one could catch more flies with honey than with vinegar; Coricopat was not certain what comestibles had to do with pest control, but it seemed to agree with his hypothesis. And Jellylorum had rarely steered him wrong before.

As it was, Coricopat found simple pleasure in the process of keeping himself at enough of a distance so his connections with other cats came about organically; he did not particularly enjoy digging around for secrets, nor did he find any entertainment in prying for details. He figured, in due time, were he meant to know a cat in its entirety, that they would reveal themselves to him when they wished to do so. Once they did, then he could pass his slowly brewing judgement upon them and decide whether he liked or disliked their company. Until then, he was nothing but patient, and pushed little more than a placid smile plastered on his muzzle that hid the depth of his thought - that was perhaps why he had an easier time than Tantomile did. Learning others in their entirety in one sitting seemed dreadfully dull - especially since so many cats seemed, in his mind, very much the same. Easier to just turn it all off and see what happened.

That did not, however, completely remove his compulsion to...peek a little bit. Just under the surface. As said: he was only flesh and blood.

Mistoffelees appears suddenly and with little fanfare when the moon is at its fullest, bellied with the extent of its magic. He is much like a spider, long limbed and careful stepped, casting his skeletons beneath him as though on display for other cats to forebode. His features seem to shift as he does, never quite solidified on the flat plane of his face, ears curled up - an outline of horns in the trick of light. There is an air about him that seems to cast off a presentiment of warning, radiating the tantalizing energy of a brightly lit flame in a cloud of unsuspecting moths.

But Coricopat is not afraid of him. Peeking has its benefits, though no amount of telepathic ability would have truly prepared him for the tangle of thorns that was the Magical Mr. Mistoffelees.

Mistofeelees, he displays very quickly, is in fact magical. The emphasis was purposeful; Coricopat has never met a cat outside of his sister and Old Deuteronomy who was so drenched in magic. Being in his presence was like being before a roaring fire with nothing more than matchsticks; he feels practically drunk with it. Coricopat, comparatively, is no more than a kitten playing in his mother's belongings, his own practical magic bending beneath the sheer force of Mistoffelees' will with barely more than a nod of his head.

But when he catches Coricopat staring unabashedly at him from the shadows on the night they meet, he immediately notes how Mistoffelees' yellowed eyes betray his age - his exhaustion. That, he feels, creates far more of a lasting impression than anything else. There are cracks in the mask he wears, and burns that stain his paw pads black, and points of starlight poking through his skin. Foreboding, perhaps. But there is more bubbling just beneath the surface - pulsing through translucent veins that Coricopat can almost see if he focuses hard enough.

Coricopat is fascinated, there is no other word that better described it; if curiosity killed the cat, he would gladly be slain just to comprehend even half of the scrambled whole that was presented before him.

“You speak so strangely," Coricopat breathed to him one evening when he comes across the strange tom in the clearing, reciting his tongues while turning in circles. "Where have you been?”

Mistoffelees does not blink at his presence - not much surprises him. He flourishes his paws out in a grand gesture of showmanship and chuckles; it sounds just like the bells that Coricopat and Tantomile had once worn on their collars, many moons ago back when they had been one. Coricopat's chest tightens. “Here and back again.”

They are fast friends after that. Mistoffelees remains in his company, he says, because Coricopat is quiet and generally unobtrusive. Coricopat thinks, vainly, that it is perhaps his unquestioned understanding that is more attractive to the other tom than any such frivolous traits. He does not need to explain magic or rebirth or the inherent complexities of his existence - does not need to explain the depths or the beyond to him; there is a name that Mistoffelees whispers against the shell of his ear, tittering as though having shared an inside joke, that resonates deep within him. Coricopat was born with this understanding.  He is more than equipped to deal with any such oddities that come along with it.

Yet, as much as he knows of what Mistoffelees is and what he could do, he has very little idea as to who he is. 

At first glance, he reads little more than several loose stitches attempting to repair a wide, gaping hole; as though he were too big for his body, at one point, and had attempted to stuff himself back in its skin. To contain, perhaps. There is something of this cat that he holds behind the sharp of his teeth, the tilt of his head, that he doesn’t want others to see. There is an uneasiness in how he connects with other cats - much like Coricopat himself. As though he was...uncertain to the extent he was able to. As though he were afraid. He feels it when Mistoffelees gets close to him - when he notes the rabbit quick beat of his heart and stares searchingly into his eyes for explanation where there is none.

Though he is not quick to admit it, Mistoffelees is kind as he is tricky. He is kind in his tolerance and kind in his actions, even when the furrow of his brow would suggest otherwise. Coricopat has seen him tenderly breathe life back into ivy that had given up halfway up into the light, seen his expression pinch at the mention of sickness and plague, wholly undelighted by their destruction - unexpected reactions from one who claimed to have been born of shadows. Yet Coricopat feels the suggestions of their warmth echoing persistently in his head. It makes him feel...light. And weighted. At the same time.

There is one moment in particular that solidifies his fledgling assumptions, but it brings with it more trouble than Coricopat had thought it would.

Dead animals in the Junkyard are not uncommon things; there was a time for things to die just as much as there was a time for them to live. The two toms come across the downy pile of feathers at the tail end of their stroll, Coricopat having spent the evening attentively listening to Mistoffelees tell him where the constellations had once been, many moons before cats had even roamed the planet. He had barely noticed how much time had passed, occupied as he was.

It looks, Coricopat figures, to have been a fledgling, just shy of flying on its own, twisted at a miserable angle. He glances up; the nest is empty. Abandoned, then, by its kin when it had failed its biological mission. Shame. But not, then, a sneak poking its paws where it didn't belong as he'd first suspected; there was no dignity in a cat who hunted the easiest of prey, in Coricopat's opinion. Absolutely no sport in it. No, this was perhaps crueler, but more fair in nature's paws, at least.

"There is nothing fair in that," Mistoffelees says slunk up to his side, having come to a similar conclusion. Coricopat could feel the tendrils of him poking around in his mind; he cannot explain why, but he feels chagrined, lowering his ears as though he had just been scolded.

Mistoffelees tsks and breezes past him to examine the tiny body. He sniffs at it delicately, wrinkling his nose as though the smell were rancid. Coricopat wonders if he means to eat it, but says nothing.

Instead, he watches as Mistoffelees scoops the feathers from the earth and holds the bird in his paws, covering it near entirely.  Coricopat feels his heart flutter as he observes the concentration set on his brow, the gentle curve of his claws in a cage of ribs the bird no longer had. Mistoffelees presses his paws close to his lips and starts his muttering, much of the same that he had heard in the clearing what seems now like a lifetime ago. Coricopat does not understand a single word, yet feels as though he understands everything. He almost asks what the other tom is doing, but quickly thinks better of it.

Then, suddenly, Mistoffelees opens his eyes and his paws, and, in a cacophony of feathers, the bird flies away. Whole and alive. Remarkable. 

“No use in wasting life,” he murmurs, staring up towards the sun where the bird had disappeared.  There is slightly less life in his face than there was a moment ago; as though he'd given some small shard of it away. There is a sudden urge in Coricopat to reach out to paw at the latticed shadows beneath his lashes; reveal their own sun underneath.  "It is wasted enough.”

And it is immediately then that Coricopat reaches his final verdict.

Mistoffelees only ever appears as a half. Half of who he was, half of who he could be, but Coricopat contents himself with the half he is given. He is impressed and fascinated by the half he is given. He is, regrettably and inexplicably, very much in love with the half he is given.

Perhaps, someday, he would tell him as such.

And perhaps, someday, he would accept it.

#no beta we die - not like anything we just die #see i told you i never forget anything #Mr. Mistoffelees #Coricopat #coricoffelees #fanfiction #my fanfic #yeah i used a mass effect quote shut up #it does help though that i kinda associate jaal's voice with coricopat tbh #who better to relate to the beyond than another magical cat i wonder

[astro-tag-9]

hi! my placements are Libra sun, Leo moon, Venus in Virgo, Taurus rising

and my friend's are Capricorn sun, pisces moon, Capricorn Venus and cancer rising

what can you assess out of this pairing?

thank you 💗

PATIENCE will be needed on both ends. For sure. You both just have a different perspective on life itself, but it doesn’t mean one is right and one is wrong, you both can respect the others views. Lots of intellectual stimulation between you both. You may tend to go down rabbit holes in your 1:1 conversations and discuss really deep topics freely.

The Capricorn may sometimes however feel as if the Libra is judging them slightly, however the judgement isn’t necessarily coming from a place of distaste, but more so the Libra persons natural instinct, (combined with the rest of their placements obviously) is to make a judgement on all things. The Capricorn is not wired as much in that way, and instead approaches things with the drive to want to dig deeper and understand the “why” or the “how”. This kind of keeps the Libra person to take a minute to understand before they pass a judgement on things. On the flip side, the way the Libra is with there Virgo placements, it helps the Capricorn learn to be a little bit more practical in their approaches as well, and not get too wrapped up with what is beneath the surface and instead, see things as they are on the surface.

When it comes to love, you both go in with a more level head. It’s not common that either of you fall HARD for somebody without calculating it in your heads first. Both can however, still wear their emotions on their sleeve. When a Leo moon is angry, they’ll wear it on their face for the world to see. A Pisces moon will relive a situation over and over in their head and think of all the different ways they could have handled the situation differently to avoid feeling a certain way.

What else were you looking for me to dive further into?

#astrology #rory gilmore #Paris #Rory and Paris #Paris and forge #Gilmore girls #Libra #Capricorn #Libra x Capricorn #Capricorn x Libra #Libra sun #Capricorn sun #Leo moon #Pisces moon #Virgo venus #Virgo rising #Taurus rising #Capricorn Venus #cancer rising

[thehugwizard]

Alrighty, so banned topics, anyone who asks about this stuff is gonna have their ask deleted, nothing concerning super personal stuff i.e. living situation related stuff, also job stuff that digs too deep, anything beyond "how's work going?" Or like stuff involving the plants themselves is off limits too, my patience, which is basically near unlimited, is starting to wear thin, and I don't wanna snap at anyone, remember when you start digging like that it starts becoming a parasocial relationship, which isn't very healthy, when I want to talk about the going ons of my life, I will Initiate but don't come into my ask box and delve deeper then surface level and unsolicited advice beyond very minor stuff is generally unwelcome, please respect that and stop coming into my asks and passing judgement and questioning stuff that's been decided by my family

#thehugwizard #laying down the rules #ground rules

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

The Captivity of Ephraim

1 Woe to the crown of pride, the hirelings of Ephraim, the flower that has fallen from the glory of the top of the fertile mountain, they that are drunken without wine.

2 Behold, the anger of the Lord is strong and severe, as descending hail where there is no shelter, violently descending; as a great body of water sweeping away the soil, he shall make rest for the land.

3 The crown of pride, the hirelings of Ephraim, shall be beaten down with the hands and with the feet.

4 And the fading flower of the glorious hope on the top of the high mountain shall be as the early fig; he that sees it, before he takes it into his hand, will desire to swallow it down.

5 In that day the Lord of hosts shall be the crown of hope, the woven crown of glory, to the remnant of the people.

6 They shall be left in the spirit of judgement for judgement, and for the strength of them that hinder slaying.

7 For these have trespassed through wine; they have erred through strong drink: the priest and the prophet are mad through strong drink, they are swallowed up by reason of wine, they have staggered through drunkenness; they have erred: this is their vision.

8 A curse shall devour this counsel, for this is their counsel for the sake of covetousness.

9 To whom have we reported evils? and to whom have we reported a message? even to those that are weaned from the milk, who are drawn from the breast.

10 Except thou affliction on affliction, hope upon hope: yet a little, and yet a little,

11 by reason of the contemptuous words of the lips, by means of another language: for they shall speak to this people, saying to them,

12 This is the rest to him that is hungry, and this is the calamity: but they would not hear.

13 Therefore the oracle of God shall be to them affliction on affliction, hope on hope, yet a little, and yet a little, that they may go and fall backward; and they shall be crushed and shall be in danger, and shall be taken.

A Cornerstone in Zion

14 Therefore hear ye the word of the Lord, ye afflicted men, and ye princes of this people that is in Jerusalem.

15 Because ye have said, We have made a covenant with Hades, and agreements with death; if the rushing storm should pass, it shall not come upon us: we have made falsehood our hope, and by falsehood shall we be protected:

16 Therefore thus saith the Lord, even the Lord, Behold, I lay for the foundations of Sion a costly stone, a choice, a corner-stone, a precious stone, for its foundations; and he that believes on him shall by no means be ashamed.

17 And I will cause judgement to be for hope, and my compassion shall be for just measures, and ye that trust vainly in falsehood shall fall: for the storm shall by no means pass by you,

18 except it also take away your covenant of death, and your trust in Hades shall by no means stand: if the rushing storm should come upon you, ye shall be beaten down by it.

19 Whenever it shall pass by, it shall take you; morning by morning it shall pass by in the day, and in the night there shall be an evil hope. Learn to hear,

20 ye that are distressed; we cannot fight, but we are ourselves too weak for you to be gathered.

21 The Lord shall rise up as a mountain of ungodly men, and shall be in the valley of Gabaon; he shall perform his works with wrath, even a work of bitterness, and his wrath shall deal strangely, and his destruction shall be strange.

22 Therefore do not ye rejoice, neither let your bands be made strong; for I have heard of works finished and cut short by the Lord of hosts, which he will execute upon all the earth.

Listen and Hear

23 Hearken, and hear my voice; attend, and hear my words.

24 Will the ploughman plough all the day? or will he prepare the seed beforehand, before he tills the ground?

25 Does he not, when he has levelled the surface thereof, then sow the small black poppy, or cumin, and afterward sow wheat, and barley, and millet, and bread-corn in thy borders?

26 So thou shalt be chastened by the judgement of thy God, and shalt rejoice.

27 For the black poppy is not cleansed with harsh treatment, nor will a wagon-wheel pass over the cumin; but the black poppy is threshed with a rod, and the cumin shall be eaten with bread;

28 for I will not be wroth with you for ever, neither shall the voice of my anger crush you.

29 And these signs came forth from the Lord of hosts. Take counsel, exalt vain comfort. — Isaiah 28 | Brenton's Septuagint Translation (BST) The English translation of The Septuagint by Sir Lancelot Charles Lee Brenton (1851) Cross References: Exodus 9:32; Leviticus 10:9; Leviticus 26:19; Numbers 7:3; Joshua 10:11; 1 Kings 3:28; 2 Kings 21:13; 2 Kings 24:2; Nehemiah 9:30; Psalm 94:10; Psalm 131:2; Proverbs 20:1; Isaiah 1:10; Isaiah 2:3; Isaiah 3:12; Isaiah 5:11; Isaiah 4:3; Isaiah 5:5; Isaiah 9:9; Isaiah 10:12; Isaiah 22:13; Isaiah 24:16; Isaiah 26:6; Isaiah 32:9; Isaiah 59:6; Jeremiah 48:26; Hosea 9:10; Micah 7:1; Matthew 11:28; Matthew 21:44; Matthew 23:23; Mark 12:20; Luke 19:41; John 5:30; Romans 11:33; 1 Corinthians 14:21; Revelation 8:7

#woe #Israel #Judah #doom #condemnation #cornerstone #Zion #listen #hear #Isaiah 28 #Book of Isaiah #Old Testament #BST #Brenton's Septuagint Translation

[queen-of-the-queers]

Kimber Destaro: A Borrasca Missing Scene

*TW: addiction, drugs, swearing, weapons, allusion to SA

Kimber crosses the motel lobby, grimacing as her leather boots squeal against the polished, linoleum floorboards. The concierge barely looks up at her, eyes fixed on his heavily-smudged computer screen as she strides past him in the direction of the elevator. 

She tries not to let him see her hands tremble from the cold, or fumble slightly as she instinctively brandishes her keys like a small cluster of hidden knives, concealed under the sleeve of her hoodie. Although she doubts he cares, or has noticed her at all, she feels as though she can’t be too careful in a town like Drisking, Missouri.

Kimber presses the button for the lift, rocking back and forward apprehensively on her toes. She feels as though she’s been constantly on edge ever since returning to her hometown, and even more so since Sam’s withdrawals peaked around noon the previous afternoon, 

As the elevator gives off a warning ding and the doors slide open in front of her, she catches sight of her reflection on the metal surface. Her unwashed hair is plastered back from her forehead by a (far outgrown) beanie, a few stray streaks of auburn coming undone from the messy updo and freezing against her skin. Kimber’s cheeks are rosy, and her eyes bright, but not in a merry way; she looks nothing but cold and scared.

Which is right, she whispers to her many reflections, as she grips the railing with both hands, cold, scared and useless.

The elevator shudders as it rises slowly, the frame creaking unstably as the first, two levels click by. Kimber’s brain taunts her as she eyes the floor, screaming at her to collect herself, prepare for what may await on the other side of those silver doors, or even worse, in her hotel room. She bites back tears- no room for weakness on a vigilante mission.

It’s not long before the lift stops moving, and she steps over the threshold, holding her breath as she makes a beeline towards the first door on the left. Against her better judgement, Kimber can’t help but linger a moment outside of the door, pressing her ear to the cheap, mahogany wood to gauge the situation inside.

A few moments pass without event, and she turns her key in the lock, shifting her grocery store bag to her other shoulder, stepping into the room.

As soon as she enters, she can’t help but wonder how that door is so fucking soundproof.

Her friend is exactly where she left him, squirming restlessly in bed with his eyes fixed on a spot in the corner of the room where the wallpaper is peeling away from the brick wall. Kimber can barely hear the muffled sound of a nondescript TV program through his cries, and the smell of vomit and sweat is becoming almost unbearable.

“Hey Sam, I brought you some soup,” she whispers, crouching down and reaching out to place a hand on his shoulder, only to recoil as he yelps, batting her hand away, “Shit, I’m sorry.”

He moans, slipping in and out of consciousness before her eyes.

“Don’t touch me, you bastard! And don’t fucking touch her- hey, get off you monster!”

Sam writhes on the bed, the combination of nightmares and pain he’s caught in evidently wreaking psychological havoc on his mind.

It’s all Kimber can do not to reach out and grab his hand, find some way to pull him out of his torment.

But she can’t. She knows that.

Suddenly, she hears an obnoxiously loud ringtone erupt from the charging station beside the bed, causing her to shoot backward, stumbling to her feet and leaning over to check the caller ID, before cursing under her breath.

She waits a beat, thinking. It’s a difficult decision, asking for help, one she knows Sam will probably hate her for. But still, she can’t just sit here anymore and watch her friend endure day after day of indefinite agony.

With her voice shaking, she presses the receiver to her ear and whispers, “Leah? Is that you? I-Its Kimber Destaro.”

#i wrote this to try and get out of writers block lmao #borrasca #sam walker #kimber destaro #tw drugs #tw addiction #tw weapons #fanfic #cole sprouse #sarah yarkin

[thelastattempt]

So Chicago. I’ve written this once already, I’m reading that older post and I’ve sat with the album and I’m not in love with it, so we’re here again. 

It’s addressed so clearly; it’s meant for someone or it’s meant for the internal monologue.’Saw you had a baby’ he's here checking in, he's been checking up. ‘Is your brother doing okay? Is he still getting out of fights?’ it’s the juxtaposed new and old, the tendrils of things he knew about you when he knew everything and the surface level details picked up in the aftermath.

‘I’m sorry that your mum don’t like me, I’m sorry that I brought that on myself.’ Do you remember when our mums were pivotal to our relationships? When you didn’t tell your mum something unless that friendship or relationship was dead in the water, because they would hate them forever on principle for the smallest slight or the biggest betrayal. and now what if all your highs and lows were public knowledge with no context, fodder for judgement?

Chicago reverberates back to years and years of people by my side, to unspoken conversations and tandem experiences, to people I’ve known and lost and those that have lost me. ‘They say bitter ends turn sweet in time, is that true for yours and mine?’ it’s the most rhetorical question, because we don’t speak anymore. how could we? too much has passed, we left it to die and rot, washed our hands and walked away. 

but the hope. ‘Has it been long enough that you can forgive me?’ because we’re both probably at fault, but do you even think of me? ‘Have you seen how my life’s been goin’?’ Would my life be better or worse with you still here, would you have steered me towards victory or watched the cliff-fall? what would you say about where I am, who I am now? ‘I bet you didn’t think that I’d remember.’ but I knew the version of you then, knew you like I knew the blood in my veins, and the ridges of your fingerprints have left marks in my life, I remember. 

‘I didn’t have to search ‘cause I still know your number.’ More and more convinced this is an ‘I’ve got your number’ idiom because I know you, your framework doesn’t change, just the decoration, I know who you are beneath your skin and ‘I bet sometimes you still like to wear my jumper’ because you surely look back on what we had sometimes too, you’re surely walking footsteps on dead paths and wearing our past. 

But I’m over here, and you’re where ever you are and ‘it just wasn’t meant to be’ but it’s not ‘meaningless’ because you weren’t meaningless, you mattered once upon a time. 

Chicago is for everyone who let someone slip away knowing it was right but asks echoing questions in the dark, terrified of ever getting an answer. 

#chicago #round two #I think the sentiments still pretty much stand #but I think this explains my experience of Chicago better #Louis tomlinson #faith in the future