#AND SHE DESERVES RHE WORLD

[soopysoap]

every day i wake up and sob violently over felicity montague

[criitterbug]

i think they wash mouths in this game

[senseiwu]

The REAL "theydeservedbetter"shipping

[gepazu]

I CANT SHE WAS HIS SISTER?????

[volfoss]

Vc women I would kill for:

Bianca. The entire chapter where she divorces Marius really sealed the deal, she's really funny. Also she apparently has a kind of gay coven later on. Very excited

Patsy. I love you women that have no support from their families really and make it on their own and are kind of flop mothers. I hate Quinn so I do not even care if she's not a great mom to him I'm sorry

Baby jenks. I would have kept her alive forever but how can you not love a girl that is part of the fang gang. Exactly

Gretchen. I wish she was not trapped in the scary nun situation but I think I could fix her. In some way at least

[reallyromealone]

Hear me out. Bonten Mikey x omega male reader

A few years after mikey and m/n broke up, mikey discovered that m/n has a 6 year old daughter who looks like a copy of mikey, and mike like connects rhe timeline and realizes m/n was pregnant at the time of their break up but m/n never told him bc he didnt want his kid to be involved in the mafia/gang shit

-🐰 (late birthday gift for me 🥹?)

It's A VERY LATE FIC I'M SO SORRY

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

(Name) smiled as he put his little pups hair in pigtails, her bangs/fringe pinned back with a cute bubble hair band, today they were visiting Draken and Inui and little (daughters name) wanted to dress her best for her favorite uncles--- don't tell the others.

(Daughters name) was (name)s world, the sweetest little pup in the world who was absolutely precious.

Though sometimes it hurt to look at her, she was literally a spitting image of her father-- (name) never realized how feminine Mikey looked till his pup came into the world, but he loved her so much. She was the kindest and most selfless little thing ever. It wasn't the easiest at times but with the support of his friends he managed. Just starting first grade, (name) was thankful to work at the bike shop and being able to collect his little sunshine.

"Don't forget the cookies papa!" (Daughters name) said excitedly as left for their visit, without a care in the world.

Many would ask "where's the sire" upon learning (name) was a single parent, the question annoying and invasive but (name) always lied and made up an excuse about the father being overseas and such.

He refused to let anyone know about the actual reason, that being (daughters name)a father was the most dangerous man in Tokyo, (name) was thankful as much as he was hurt that Mikey dumped him.

He refused to let anyone go through what he did with Kanto Manji Gang.

With what Mikey was quickly becoming.

It was sheer /fucking/ chance that Mikey was waiting for the light to change in his limo as (name) stood at the cross walk holding hands with--

Holy s h i t.

"...boss are you seeing what we're seeing" Kakucho and Sanzu stared in Shellshock as they looked at a tiny Mikey with pigtails and a little dress, all of them doing the mental math and coming to a quick realization that holy fuck (name) was pregnant.

He was pregnant that day, oh my god that's what he wanted to talk to Mikey about!

"What are your thoughts on kids?" (Name) asked awkardly as they ate dinner, Mikey surpisingly home for once to do so "annoying, would get in the way" the blond said simply "a liability"

(Name) forced himself not to place his hand on his stomach, anxiety riddling his body "I see..."

"Why?"

"Just curious"

Mikey was always so disinterested in (name) these days, (name) always suspected that he was cheating, never saying anything though.

(Name) wanted to just scream.

Mikey remembered that night.

It was the night Mikey dumped him, a rash decision on his end and during one of his dark impulse moments.

He immediately regretted it after, the pained look on (name)s face and they hadn't seen each other since.

(Name) had many expectations of life, but seeing his ex sitting on his couch after he put his pup to bed, noticing the other Bonten men guarding the apartment "the fuck are you doing here" Mikey expected (name)a hostility and glanced up "that's my kid"

"What do you want Mikey" (name) wasn't having any conversation, he wanted to know what the hell he was doing here "I want to meet my kid"

"And get involved in your bullshit? Absolutely not! "Babies are a liability" remember that Mikey?" He hissed out and Mikey sighed, knowing this wasn't going to be easy "I deserve to meet her"

"You lost that chance when you broke up with me, I'm not letting my daughter deal with your shit, Mikey you're /dangerous/! She's six and I don't want her to ever go through what I went through!"

"I can keep you both safe!"

"YOU COULDN'T EVEN KEEP ME SAFE!" (name) was crying at this point, so angry at his once beloveds audacity"I kept her away for a reason Mikey, you are dangerous! She gets to play with her friends and have sleep overs! Has sleep overs at the friends you left behind! She gets to have a childhood that isn't currupted!"

"Why can't you let her have that?" (Name)s voice was broken and his body shaking, he would sacrifice everything for his daughter and at this moment he would stand his ground.

Bonten would poison her.

"Can...can I just please /know/ my daughter"

(Name) was tired, he was tired of it all "if you can /promise/ me that nothing will happen to her, I will let you meet her but one slip up Sano and I will never let you see her again"

[isa-beenme]

Moonlight

Chapter II: A Million Dreams

When Hybern falls, all of their prior experiments are free to take the world as they want, but for months no one hears anything coming from the castle. Until the massacre. Until the whole palace explodes. Their biggest weapon is out, and she only has one objective: get back to her sisters.

Warnings: mentions of blood, mentions of child abuse, mentions of experiments with human beings, mentions of child murder (please someone tell me if I forgot something)

I love this song so much it hurts

Imagine baby Azzie singing this in his tiny little cell dreaming about a mate that wouldn't be born until five hundred years later 😭😭😭😭

Than baby Aemma singing this in her tiny little cell without even knowing what a dream is 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

I like to hurt myself apparently

I'll let you guys find the lyrics to rhe song in the middle of the chapter, good luck

I'm not sure if I like this tho, please leave a comment, I'm the happiest when someone sends something 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

The days seemed to pass slower than usual for Azriel. Over the past few years, he had grown accustomed to dealing with all the love and countless mating bonds snapping into place around him. It was becoming easier to stand at the edge of the room, unnoticed by everyone, the shadows hovering around his body helping him fade into the background.

He used to be better than that until the Archeron sisters officially became part of their lives. Feyre, ever the optimist, wanted everyone to be happy and together all the time. She was like a little ball of happiness, eager to spread it to everyone around her. For a good while, it worked.

Nesta, on the other hand, seemed to want everyone to be as miserable as she was. And somehow, Azriel understood her. For as long as he could remember, life had always seemed bleak. Even when others could move past their fears and problems, learning to accept themselves with all their mistakes, Azriel couldn’t. He hated himself because that was the only thing he had ever known how to do without error. Unlike him, Nesta actively tried to make everyone around her miserable as well, Azriel never had the courage to do that, though the thought crossed his mind more times than he cared to admit. But now, Nesta had found her mate, her self-love, her family, and her strength. Now, she fought for everyone to find their own happiness too.

And then, there was Elain. Sweet, delicate Elain. She wanted everyone to feel calm, to find their peace. She wanted to be his peace too, just as he had been hers in those early days, years ago, when she first arrived after being made fae. He used to dream of her face back then, though it was always blurred, as if something prevented him from seeing her clearly. He had thought she would be his mate, but Lucien was. He could feel it, damn, even smell the bond between them. And yet, something still pulled him to her. His mind? His heart? He wasn’t sure. But something. Azriel never told Rhysand about the pull he felt toward Elain. The fear of rejection and the disgust he imagined in his brother’s face every time Rhys caught him looking at Elain too long kept him silent.

Somehow, there were moments that was harder for him to remain invisible. Feyre tried to cheer him up, Nesta tried to make him feel worthy, and Elain tried to make him feel loved. But none of it worked. He laughed, he felt happy around his family - he loved them, for Cauldron's sake - but he was not happy. He didn’t feel like he deserved anything but sorrow and suffering, and he certainly didn’t deserve love, especially not from Elain. She loved the idea she had of him, but she didn’t know the real him, his shadows hid from her because she couldn’t associate him with them. She knew his pain and his sadness, but not his soul, not his heart or mind. And she never would, their pains were too different to understand one another fully.

That was why Azriel had spent the last four years running, like a stray animal. Missions and work filled his mind every waking hour, so there was no room left to think about anything else. He didn’t think about Feyre’s happiness if death consumed his days. He didn’t think about Nesta’s strength if only work filled his time. He didn’t think about Elain’s love if grief surrounded his heart. He didn’t think about the hatred he had for himself if the only thing on his mind was hatred for his enemies.

"You don’t need to do this, you know?" Rhysand said, entering the weapons room as Azriel filled every inch of his clothes with something sharp. "We can send another spy. Or Cassian. He could use something alive as a punching bag right now."

"No need. I’m going," Azriel replied quickly, wanting to end the interaction. His relationship with Rhysand had been strained ever since Rhys told him to stay away from Elain.

"Az, you’ve barely slept this past week. If the beast is too strong, you won’t win. You might get hurt," Rhysand pressed, watching Azriel bend down to lace his shoes. Azriel did his best to avoid this conversation, keeping his hands busy with the task "Are you even listening to me?"

"Loud and clear, Rhys," Azriel muttered, though his voice lacked emotion. "I just don’t want to talk. This is the last mission for now," He added, straightening. "I won’t do anything else until next week."

"You need to come back alive. Nyx can’t lose his favorite uncle," Rhysand said, his voice filled with both warning and concern.

"Don’t let Cassian hear that. He’ll be grumpy for a year." Azriel managed a small grin as Rhysand laughed and gripped his shoulder, offering what little reassurance he could. 

"I’ll come back," Azriel said quietly. "I always do."

"I know," Rhysand replied, stepping back. "Just… Feyre’s not sure you should hunt the beast right now. She has a bad feeling."

Azriel shook his head. "I won’t let that monster terrorize any more villages. It’s my job to keep them safe."

Rhysand nodded, giving him space to winnow. "It’s just a weird feeling. But I know you can do it."

With one last breath, Azriel let the shadows engulf him, the familiar sensation of folding time and space filling him as he disappeared, ready to begin his hunt.

In another place of the Court, one big group was finishing their journey, winnowing the last few travelers to safety. Each girl carried a small bag with something of importance -clothes, a weapon, or a cherished book. It didn’t matter what they carried, because within each item was a story, a piece of themselves they refused to leave behind. 

The border of the Night Court was calm. Their destination, a clearing nestled within a beautiful and dense forest, seemed almost serene. The warm climate in the open camp was tempered by the canopy of trees that surrounded them, creating a soft breeze that made the air feel comfortable and humid. It was enough. They knew the High Lord would sense any significant movement within his borders, but that was exactly what they were counting on - to be found, to offer their skills, and to ask for help. They needed the Night Court to know they were here.

One of the travelers, Aemma, still working as their leader, silently counted each girl as they arrived, ensuring all were well and strong enough to bring in more from the last group. There were only a few more left to transport, and they had been careful, winnowing in small batches to avoid sickness from the vast distances between the Spring and the Night Court.

Suddenly, the air around her seemed to shift. The usual noises of the forest - chirping insects, rustling leaves, the soft whispers of the girls - vanished, replaced by an unnatural silence that kept ringing in her ear. She straightened, senses immediately on alert, her eyes scanning the perimeter for the source of the disturbance. Her warriors noticed the change in her demeanor and quickly readied themselves, some shifting into defensive stances. But she didn’t focus on them, she saw further, beyond the trees.

Miles away, something dark and terrible was happening, breaking something inside of her that she couldn't quite place. Fear, blood, and despair wafted through the air, reaching her like a wave. Her pulse quickened. Something deep inside her stirred - an ancient, primal force that pulsed with urgency, demanding her attention. She didn’t need her weapons, this feeling, her power, was far stronger. It was the Enchantress within her, awakening, eager to take control. 

Without hesitation, she winnowed, her body folding through space, to the source of that bright, pulsing thread deep in her chest. The scene she arrived at was nothing short of brutal. A massive beast, bloodied and wild, was attacking a winged fae - a male, an Illyrian, judging by the distinctive wings. He was struggling, his movements slow and sloppy, as if exhaustion from the fight had drained his strength. His unfocused eyes betrayed his fatigue. He was fighting for his life, and he was losing. 

She felt the Enchantress surge, the hunger for death overtaking her. She let the magic flow through her veins, consuming every part of her being, until all she could feel was rage. The beast roared, claws tearing into the Illyrian’s flesh, but she hardly registered the sound. Her mind was focused solely on the thread, bright and blue, somehow binding her to this male, tugging at her heart with every beat.

Without a word, she stepped forward, her hand not reaching for any blade or power. She didn’t need them. The Enchantress would be enough.

The beast sensed her too late. In a blur of movement, she was on it, her body a whirlwind of lethal precision. She moved with an unnatural speed and grace, her fingers tearing into the creature's flesh with the force of her power. She didn’t hear the beast’s screams. She didn’t see the blood splatter across her skin. All she felt was that weird connection, that string pulling her closer to the Illyrian.

The beast was large, easily towering over her, its teeth gnashing and claws slashing wildly in a desperate attempt to shake her off. But she was relentless. She didn’t stop. Her every strike was calculated, lethal, the way her masters told her how to do it. The Enchantress within her roared with fury, and with every pulse of power, the beast weakened. It faltered, its roars turning into pained howls as her grip on it tightened.

The Illyrian was on the ground now, barely conscious, blood still pooling around him. His eyes fluttered closed briefly, but just in time to see her. But he didn’t have time to think. His vision blurred again as he slipped back into unconsciousness.

With one final, devastating blow, she brought the beast down. It collapsed, its massive body crashing into the earth with a sickening thud. She stood over its lifeless form, breathing heavily, her hands covered in its blood. The blue string in her chest pulsed, brighter than ever, tugging her toward the Illyrian.

Azriel had been stupid.

Stupid, senseless, reckless, stubborn - every adjective for foolishness could have described him at this moment. But admitting that now wouldn’t save his life. He might die if he didn’t fight back. He would die if he didn’t get help. Desperation clawed at him as he screamed internally for Rhysand, for Cassian, or even for Feyre to come. He screamed for anyone to hear him, anyone to help, but his mind couldn't focus as teeth and claws kept coming into his vision.

He shouldn’t have come. He should’ve let Cassian take his place. He should’ve slept more. He should’ve told everyone he loved them. Had he said it enough? No. It was never enough.

Memories flooded his mind. As a child, he used to dream so much. He would close his eyes to escape the darkness of his cell, dreaming of a world beyond the shadows. A world where the skies were clear, and freedom wasn’t just a distant wish. Every night, as he lay on the cold ground, he let those dreams fill his head - a million scenarios of what life could be if he were ever free. He dreamt of a life outside the darkness, a life where he wasn’t the forgotten bastard child locked away.

He used to dream of a girl. Her face was always blurred, her features indistinct, but he would tell his mother about her, imagining she would be the most beautiful female he’d ever meet. His mother would laugh, telling him to keep that dream alive, to find her one day when he was grown. It had taken him centuries to dream of her again.

When Azriel first saw Elain, he thought she was the one from his dreams. But her eyes weren’t the right color, nor was her hair, nor was the fierceness he had imagined in those indistinct features. She was close, yet not the same. But now, as he lay on the ground, his face smeared with blood and his chest burning from the wound that refused to heal, he wondered if he was dreaming again.

A blue light filled his vision as he watched a female - fierce, unrelenting - tear into the beast that had attacked him. It wasn’t clean or quick as she took her time, savoring the beast’s screams, making a mess of it on purpose. And yet, in that violence, in the blood and chaos, Azriel saw some kind beauty. This felt like one of the many dreams that had once kept him sane in the dark. The beast howled, its dying scream reverberating through the forest as the female wrenched its heart from its chest. 

Azriel's shadows danced around her, almost reverently, as if they too admired the raw brutality. His senses, dulled by pain and exhaustion, softly returned. His heartbeat steadied, and the fog around his mind slowly began to clear. The female stood over the beast’s lifeless body, her posture shifting, as though she had become someone else entirely. Slowly, she turned, and Azriel's breath hitched.

For a moment, all he could see was Elain. But this female’s eyes were different - sharper, fiercer - and her hair was of a darker brown, a few blue strings peeking out of her braid, but he thought he was imagining that. She looked like a vision, a memory brought to life.

"Are you alright, sir?" Her voice was firm but filled with concern as she approached. Azriel blinked, trying to shake the fog from his brain. But still, it was Elain’s face he saw. “Are you Azriel? Spymaster of this court?”

“Elain?” he whispered, his voice rough with pain and confusion. The female’s eyes widened in surprise, and she knelt before him, the scent of coffee and wood flooding his senses. It was unlike Elain’s scent of jasmine and honey - this scent was stronger, fiercer, like the female before him.

“You know her? Is she here? Can you take me to her?” There was desperation in her voice, her blue eyes darting between Azriel and his surroundings. He realized then, she wasn’t Elain. Not quite. “Sir? Do you think you need a healer?”

Azriel shook his head, though his body still ached. “No, I just need time,” he replied, taking the hand she offered as he struggled to his feet. “Who are you?”

The female’s eyes narrowed slightly. “First, I need to know who you are,” she said, her tone sharp but not unkind. “I just saved your life. I think I deserve that.”

“I’m Azriel, spymaster of the Night Court, as you guessed,” he said, his wound now almost closed. But he didn’t release her hand. “And you?” She hesitated, glancing toward his shadows and the darkened forest. Her earlier confidence faltered for a moment before she spoke. “You asked if I knew Elain Archeron, I do. She is my High Lady’s sister - Feyre’s sister. They’re under my protection. Now, who are you?”

At the mention of Feyre, the female’s eyes filled with sudden emotion. “High Lady’s sister?” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You mean… High Lady Feyre?” 

Azriel nodded, watching as the female’s expression shifted, tears welling up in her eyes. She stepped back, releasing his hand. He could see the weight of whatever news she carried in the way her posture stiffened. His shadows shifted curiously, as if sensing something important in her.

“Tell me your name. Do you need help?” Azriel pressed, noticing the way her composure wavered. As if something inside her had cracked.

“My name is Aemma Archeron,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I am Elain Archeron’s twin sister. My grandmother sold me to Hybern years ago to test me with the Cauldron.” Her voice cracked as she continued. “I was one of the few survivors. I’ve been leading a group, nearly a hundred and fifty other females, all survivors of Hybern's slavery, and we’re trying to find a place in the Night Court. If you could… if you could help us, if you could speak to your High Lord, your High Lady... my sister.” She said the last word as if unsure, as if the connection was too fragile to believe.

Azriel’s mind reeled, trying to process what she had just revealed. Aemma Archeron. Elain’s twin sister. Sold to Hybern. Tested by the Cauldron. He could hardly believe it, but the truth of her words rang in the connection he shared with his shadows.

“I think I could use some help, yes,” Aemma said softly, the weight of her story settling between them.

Without wasting a second, Azriel sent a silent, urgent message through the mental bond to Rhysand, telling him everything he had just learned.

"Aemma," he repeated softly, as if testing the name in his mouth, the weight of the moment pressing down on him. "I... I need to get you to Rhysand and Feyre. You and the others."

Aemma nodded, her hands trembling slightly despite her strong demeanor. She still wasn't entirely sure if she could trust him, but she had no other choice. She never had, she felt like. “Yes, please.”

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Can we get male warrior reader?

When reader was alive he was considered the strongest in his army leading to countless victories for his people and kingdom

He dedicated his whole life to the wellfare of his kingdom that he never felt rhe need to find someone to settle down with an his life.

When he goes to valhalla he meets jack and is amazed by his fighting skills. The thing about reader he has any ability similar to jacks that allows him to see the guilt in their hearts and jack was the definition of a warrior.

Reader gets on one knee to ask Jack for his permission to court him much to the shock of the little valkerye that partner up with him during his fight (I cant remember her names only that she makes me mad)

Reader is quick to send her a glare that is colder than Odins at her behavior and is quick to remind her that if jack was truly evil than her sister wouldnt have allowed him to step into the battlefield for humanity.

-Y/N, regarded as one of the best rulers in history, not just in your own country, but throughout the world, your name always comes up for great leaders and it’s rightfully earned.

-You were a proud warrior, focusing on protecting your people rather than conquering, but if another empire tried to do the same to you, you had no issues beating them and taking their empire as payment.

-To you, your people, those who looked up to you to not only lead them but to protect them, were the most important thing in your empire, because without them, you couldn’t call yourself a true emperor.

-Under your rule nobody went without anything, everyone had a home, a job, clean clothes, food, water, access to doctors, children of any status had the right to go to school for at least basic education, and due to everything, your nation thrived.

-However, many thought it was odd, despite your successes, despite everything you did, you never took a spouse, and never had any children.

-Nobody, not even those closest to you, could ever figure out this mystery and the secret died with you.

-The secret wasn’t anything bad, but to others they would see it as something not warranting your lifelong celibacy, but to you, it ate you up inside.

-Despite all the good, all the people you saved, you could only remember those that you failed, those who died under your protection or under your command, and those that died, those that you failed, their loss weighed heavily on your mind.

-You felt like you didn’t deserve to bring new life into the world when lives were lost under you.

-Even after you passed and in Valhalla, you rejected all advances of others who wanted a relationship with such an emperor, you only accepted friendships with other warriors you found, bonding over sparring matches, as you enjoyed not having to hold back.

-Ragnarok was announced and Brunnhilde asked you to fight for humanity, but surprisingly you hesitated, not giving an immediate answer. Brunnhilde knew your aversion of taking life, despite your strength to easily do so, as you only took the lives of those who deserved it, criminals and monsters who would only hurt others for pleasure and gain.

-You agreed eventually and Brunnhilde surprised you, being accommodating to you, telling you that you would be a reserve fighter, a backup and you agreed, feeling more willing to fight.

-You remained in your quiet viewing room, sitting on a large plush chair, watching the matches, cheering for humanity and mourning the warriors- no…mourning the friends that you’ve lost.

-You sought out Kojiro personally, thanking him for his hard earned win and he beamed brightly, thanking you before you returned to watch the next fight.

-Your eyes were wide, learning of the next person, Jack the Ripper, only… this wasn’t the true Jack the Ripper, as you killed him when he arrived in Valhalla years ago, after he went after innocent women and you ended his short reign of terror almost instantly.

-This was someone else and Brunnhilde, who entered your room shortly after the fight started, as she knew you would have questions and she told you that this man, Jack, took the mantle of the original Jack the Ripper on Earth, after killing him.

-You were surprised to learn that Jack was still a killer, but one with morals, as he killed killers, he went after people who attacked and killed other people, turning himself into a vigilante.

-You were confused, watching the screen, “Then why does he take the abuse if he knows the truth?” Brunnhilde sighed through her nose, a bit exasperated, “He’s much like you- he would rather take all the bad in the world for himself to protect those who need more good.”

-You paused at her words, but said nothing more and she left after a while, returning to her own viewing area, leaving you to watch Jack’s impressive combat skills.

-You couldn’t look away from him, every move was so graceful, even the way he spoke was so elegant, never yelling or raising his voice, he always seemed level-headed and even toned. Your heart leapt to your throat when he fell upon the gate spike, which made you pause, lifting your hand to your chest, feeling your heart hammering in your chest. You had never felt like this before!

-You could see the anguish on Jack’s face as Hercules faded, and you grew angry at the crowds who threw rocks and tomatoes at Jack, calling him a murderer. However, they did nothing in the earlier matches, when others died. Their hypocrisy was infuriating.

-Jack was not expecting to see you running towards him, your inner colors blazing with nothing but concern as he was finally allowing himself to be weak, limping backstage, clutching the wound on his stomach.

-You surprised Jack once more by easily sweeping him into your arms princess style, “Let’s get you to the infirmary!” Jack was stunned, his eyes wide as he wasn’t used to this, someone caring for him as well as someone carrying him like he was a maiden.

-Jack held his hat to his face which was now blazing red as you kicked the door to the infirmary open, seeing Brunnhilde there, waiting for Jack to arrive but she was surprised to see you there as well, carrying Jack.

-You sat Jack on the bed so the nurses could get work and stepped back, allowing Brunnhilde to approach you but before she could speak Hlokk, Jack’s partner ran in, wanting to see Jack after Brunnhilde told her to meet her at the infirmary.

-Hlokk pouted lightly, seeing Jack, not as angry as when she first had to join with Jack, as she realized what her sister had done, mainly because she knew her younger sister wouldn’t come and see him in the infirmary after how she acted. She was going to wait until he was released to see how he was doing.

-She glared up at Brunnhilde while you kept your eyes on Jack who was actually trying to avoid your eyes, seeing your blaring colors, they were so bright, so true, seeing anger, concern, and the one he was shying away from was love.

-Hlokk’s voice interrupted your gaze, as you were seeing all the wounds he had, making sure he was being taken care of, “I still can’t believe you made me partner with that.” Brunnhilde folded her arms across her chest, staring disapprovingly down at her, “But you know the truth now, this isn’t the real Jack the Ripper.”

-Hlokk’s glare didn’t falter, “But he’s still killed lots of people!” You saw Jack’s gaze falter for only a moment before you turned, giving the young Valkyrie a glare which shut her up, “Brunnhilde wouldn’t have partnered her sister up with a killer. Lots of people have killed others, it’s the way of warriors, you fight and kill to survive, or be killed yourself.”

-Jack was stunned, seeing you defend him while Hlokk shut up, her gaze falling before she apologized, having not thought about it that way before she hugged her sister, forgiving her before turning to Jack, “Make sure you rest- you always push yourself too hard!”

-Jack took the scolding with a small laugh, “Yes ma’am!” Hlokk pouted, her hands on her hips before she poked at his cheek, telling him not to sass her which made him laugh more.

-You remained quiet until he was completely taken care of and once he was in clean clothes, he bowed his head lightly to you, “And thank you, sir, for bringing me here.”

-Jack was not prepared for you to kneel before him, taking one of his hands in your own, “I would do anything for you, honorable one. Will you allow me to court you?”

-Everyone turned white in shock except for you, staring at you in shock before Jack stammered, his stoic and calm façade giving way to a bright red face and stammering voice, unsure about what was happening.

-Jack could see that you were completely serious, every color he could see blaring back at him, your unwavering eyes, you were serious.

-Jack once again hid his face behind his hat, not knowing what type of face he was making, which you did think was rather cute as Brunnhilde patted you both on the head like she was the mother of you both, “Congratulations, but before any wedding planning can happen, we need to focus on winning Ragnarok.”

-Jack stammered, embarrassed at the thought of wedding planning before you turned to the Valkyrie, “If I need to fight, call me, and I will.” She was stunned to see you looking so determined, especially after your initial hesitance, but agreed and the two sisters left.

-You offered a hand to Jack who did hesitate, something you noticed, but didn’t berate him on. You did realize how strong you did come onto him, but you were serious, never in your life and your afterlife did you ever find someone that you felt such a pull to, and by the way Jack was acting, he was in a similar boat, as he had never seen someone’s emotions towards him so clearly, it was… unsettling but also breathtaking.

-You invited Jack back to your room to rest and get something to eat and you were surprised when he agreed, but after you exited the room, you stepped to the side to give him his space, not wanting him to be uncomfortable, but when he grabbed your sleeve like he was a child, you were stunned.

-You could see his hesitance and you made a promise to yourself to not push him, you didn’t want to scare him away, but you had a feeling he wasn’t going to be so easily scared.

[rodolfoparras]

Update on my silly Beetlejuice nails!!

Toui loves the scratches. First time she sat . Face up and purring so loudly.

TOUIIIIIIIII THIS MAKEA ME SO HAPPY SHE DESERVES RHE WORLD LETS GOOOO

[abstractlesbian]

. Suicide tw im safe venting about grief stuff

Honestly on some level it feels wrong having my job with benefits that will cover transition when a big factor in caylee dying was being constantly turned down for jobs thay wouldve helped her move

Like i cant know for sure if getting a job wouldve been enough to change how things ended but god i am fucking pissed she deserved so much better than the world gave her

I wish we goofed around together more i wish most of my memories with her werent just venting to esch other and sharing advice and discussing serious topics i wish i got to see her hving fun more she was so sweet and just seeing her posts when she was having a good day would cheer me up so much

And im pissed im getting mh life together without my grandma here to see it she always believed in me and loved me and knew id get here but i was still on rhe edge of being a college dropout for the second time when she died and now im a college graduate woth a job in my field and im writing again and shes never going to read my first novel and shes not going to be st me and rschels wedding and shes never going to meet my kids

[smileymoth]

Im being mentally ill sorry chat

I need to kill myself at this point because I'm never going to get better in any way shape or form. I cant eat healthy because I get fucking weird about it. And I'd be okay with it because frankly I don't care if I make myself sick but at the same time I'm scared I'll die at 40 from heart failure because starvation kills your organs and your heart. But I'd not eat healthy in the first place so would it even matter. I hate that I can't say that I wish I was skinny because that means I'm scum of the earth bc i hate fat people even though I dont I just hate myself and everything to do with me because I'll never be enough for myself because I have crippling dysmorphia that makes me want to kill myself. I can'tlook at myself in the mirror i cant look at photos of myself because i hate my body so bad but i cant change it because i keep fucking eating i need to stop fucking eating i need to start counting calories again if i ever want to be skinny and get surgey god its such a long way to go to be skinny i wish i was underweight i wish i hhadnt gained 25kilos over the span of 3 years i need to kill myself because its all my fault its my fault i cant eat or work out properly or be healthy about it because im too depressed to cook for myself and im addicted to sugar and i have no energy or motivation to do things ever. What if its my fuckibg meds that raise my weight so much what if i went off them what if i stop taking them and eventually kill myself because being dead is bettef than being fat right thats what rhe doctors probably want you to beliebe. I look soooo normal on the outside im like smiling and laughing and i looknormal and happy to other people because i have nothing to prove to them for me beung sick beside them knowing i take meds and me joking about being suicidal. I dont have lost weight nor any scars to show them . God i wish i had the courage to cut my arm up so bad i had to get stitches but i cant because i lovr my mom and my mom loves me toi much and i dont want to worry her i already am terrifued of her seeing the small scars on my thighs . I cant even tell if cutting helps because it gives a nice adrenaline rush but then itd over and i feel guilty bc itll leavw scars that people can see i wish people didnt care aboyt scars i wish they healed and disappeared faster so i wouldnt havw to hide them but i also want them to see because i feel like its the only way i could prove to them that im ill and not just joking about it. I need to starve mtself and get skinny because theb maybe someobe will tell me im pretty because ill finally wear pretty clothes and i need to get rid of my tits and i need ro lose the weight for that abd im so scared i wont be able to . Its only 10 kilos it shouldnt be so scary to lose but i lost 5 in dec/january so before i even went to thw gym and now ibe lost nothing in 2 montjs and its so scary i hatw it i hate that im mentally il i hate that ik not ill enough for anyone to care . Im so pathetic it hurts really i need to kill myself but i cant because of my mom and it sucks . Im never going to get better and im never going to feel pretty enough or good enough in my life im always going to feel like a failure so why am i even trying anymore . I want to die but i dont i just want to be happy but i cant do that so i want to kill myself instead but i cant kill myself soim just stuck in this limbo of wishing i was a better person that im never going to be. I wish i had the self control to just not fucking eatif i cant make proper healthy food for myself i dont deserve it i dont deserve good thibgs i need to get beat up on the street by someone i dont deserve good rhings because i havent earned them im always gking to be a little freak thafs not enough for herself or the world because shes a depressed fat probably autistic freak whose only wish is to be happy and find love that i wont get becayse i cant talk to people. I also need to stop posting my mental breakdowns on tumnlr bc its not helping anyone but here we are. Im not a good person am i

[420technoblazeit]

if youre still doing rhe confess thing on anon or w/e

i honestly cannot remember if we are moots or not but its an absolute delight to see you on my dash. also i forever remember you as The Milfboss Guy ok bye /silly

oh my god it's been 3 years. anyway honored to be hte milfboss guy fr she was too good for this world we didtn deserve her

(Confess something you've thought about me on anon)

[fadeintoyou1993]

sick N tired of these ppl speaking on beyoncé's good name to defend the absolute blandest ass no creativity bitches like be fr. be FOR REAL👏🏽 WHY the FUCK she always the one yall wanna talk about! why she always the one yall have the AUDACITY to call overrated like are YOU INSANE. ARE YOU ACTUALLY OUT OF UR GODDAMN MIND COS I KNOW UR NOT SAYIN THIS SHIT IN EARNEST u CANT! U CANNOT SIT HERE n act like BEYONCÉ.... BEYONCÉ!! BEYONCÉ GISELLE KNOWLES MFIN HYPHEN CARTER DONT DESERVE RHE GODDAMNED AOTY AND HASNT DESERVED IT FOR EVERY SINGLE GODDAMNED FUCKIN ALVUM THIS BITCH PUT OUT .....LIKE on god my pressure is rising everytime somebody say sumn wild about B E Y O N C É ...... WORLD SHIFTER BEYONCÉ?

[ninjasmart]

Do you have any tips on how to get rid of inherited fears and limited beliefs caused by social conditioning?

The answer will vary depending on how ma y therapy tools you have.

I can give you a roadmap and you can customise it to your needs.

If you haven't hears about Byron Katie, I suggest you read her books. She is a good start. She has a good pdf with the emotions and the core beliefs.

With some practice you can pin point some of your cote beliefs - 3 to 5, but even if you feel strongly about 2 it is plenty.

If you haven't heard of it - google the emotion's wheel. That is another good start. If you think of a situation, think of rhe primary emotion that comes with it.

Knowing your primary emotions is key. This keps you with the next step - understanding where they came from originally - mom, dad, some other ancestor. You can do that with a clinical psychologist and / or with a family constellations person.

Having a bigger perspective is key to healing. The next step is to do somatic work. Google the 6 healing sounds. If you know a accupincturist do that as well.

Next step is to do Osho dynamic meditations. I love the shaking meditation. If I need a bigger transformation I do the mystic rose.

That is one big branch of healing - working with your emotions. Let's go to the other pillar of healing : the family. Read everything you can get on Brene Brown. She has done truly amazing work on toxic shame.

Then, learn about your family dynamics and most importantly what happens with a person who had a certain role in the family over time. This includes exploring your attachment style. A family therapist can help with that but there are also many books.

You need to explore your basic reaction - fight, fligth, fawn or freeze. It helps to watch wild animals who explain those reactions.

The third pillar of healing is DBT. I can't recommend it enough but one must be ready for it, otherwise it will be not so deep.

..This all may sound quite complex or confusing so let me give you an example. I was raised to be a good girl. That was my role - the good, the responsible one.

Our society makes us women to be the good girls. Especially if you have a NARC tendencies mother - there is no ither choice: you must be the perfectest perfect daughter and you will still not be enough to deserve your own mother's love. Her ambition - yes, as long as you fulfill it, her love - no, she has another child that she loves.

-The core belief is: I am not enough

-This core belief comes with a lot of sadness and perfectionism.

-It comes from a mother who was not available for me bwcause her mother was not available to her and her mother was not available to her because she was too busy running away, leaving family behind and staying alive during the wars.

-As an unloved daughter I tend to go in relationships with men who are exactly like my mom - not available, using me and being ready to discard me. In friendships I have always fawned to women who are older than me and are often sociopaths. Also, women who are hardworking and wise and experienced, but that is due to the course correction that my grandmother did when she raised me half the time (parents are divorced). (You can search research articles about "adult children of .... "- e.g. adult children of alcoholics, adult children of elder parents, adult children abandoned by father, adult children of serial adultery mother, etc etc).

-Knowing what you are made of comes with an understanding, eventually. The understanding of: I am who I am and that is enough ( you can repeat that each morning or evening for a month and you'll see how you'll change the way you see the world). For example - I do man's work with ease, rarely ask for help, and that fragile, vulnerable feminine part of me comes out only around real men.

-Accupuncture and 6 healing sounds and zhan zhuan and kundelini mantras and osho dynamic meditations helped a lot. We all have stored in our body the trauma of the childhood. Mine is from before I was born. I was not wanted, mom was made to not abort me, and she genuinely deapised me for being in her womb. That realization for where exactly the trauma is really coming from can be unlocked with breathwork. Highly recommend. But it has to be very, very experienced practitioner, not an idiot who sees you shaking and decides to calm you - if you start shaking, reasearch says - you need to shake it all off.

-Now, the next big thing is - family. For me the default reaction is freeze. I have had years in which I feel the feelings days later and I couldn't cry. I was raised in people pleasing and I have accepted it as part of who I am. The only thing I do not accept is abusive behavior in return to my kindness. People who have done it are genuinely shocked to learn how good I am in stating and keeping airtight boundaries.

Another thing to pay attention when it comes to family and upbringing is - what coping skills were you taught, or learned. Mine was sugar addiction for years and putting up with crap until I get myself sick.

-And finally, tying it all together in the real world with the links exercise from DBT. A manager cut of my salary by a week just because he could do it and then told HR that I should be on probation until "the old me" is back. But the old me was doing the work of 4 full time employees, was working every weekend, every morning lunch and dinner and night, during vacations. And was never paid for all of this. The current me still does a bit of overtime just so I can help the team but since last Friday I understood it loud and clear: to this manager I will never be enough and I'll have to do perfectly the work of 3 full time employees in order to be considered on the same level as the colleagues who work one job 40hrs only. On one side - I have ingrained in me to be a team player and will want to continue to be helpful to the team even if in some weeks I work a bit more. On the other - to have worked triple shifts and be tricked into not being paid, then to work an entire week and your manager to just decide that he's going to cut your salary and to add insult to injury to want to put me on a probation until I go back to working for 3 full time employees "just to keep my job". It's too much.

[weebsinstash]

Bully romances are an entirely different can of worms, I love hate-reading them. It’s so frustrating cause the FLs always think with their vaginas even when the guy is their fucking bully/abuser and 99% the dudes are like. Committing felonies against the FLs/other students. The classicism also, cause most of the time it’s always a poor FL getting a scholarship to attend this super rich exclusive academy and she’s treated like shit cause they din’t think she deserves to be there freeloading of the “paying students”.

The synopsis always say “they tried to break me but I’m already broken by my shitty life dancing as a stripper as a 15 year old to support myself after the tragic death of my parents, they don’t know who they’re messing with” or “I’m feisty. I’m defiant. I’m not submissive like everyone else and I’ll fight them” and the book is them being walked all over and doing exactly the opposite. Like I understand not standing up to your bully because you’re afraid and you’re in a position where you can’t do that but girl do you HAVE to suck his dick the first chance you get???? It also has the same issue of 18-year-olds being sex gods who are like. Fucking teachers and getting away with it because money.

Anyways once I read a book where the guys where some on “next leaders of the world” bullshit so their parents would abandon these children in forests and have them fend for themselves and also learn to kill people and fly helicopters I shit you not. Ngl the “rich yandere bullies you, poor scholarship student” actually kinda 😳 juicy with the drama and toxicity potential but those books are just SO BAD.

Part of me is like, i feel like some bully romances could work but, idk, it depends on what you're consuming a story for? Like how sometimes we read angst and stories that are sad and have no happy endings because that's a different form of entertainment and catharsis you know? But if you're writing a story where the bully is the LI then at some point you have to confront all the horrible things they did and make them have consequences, otherwise you just have rhe protagonist getting, basically worn down until they're succumb in my opinion? Like that's one thing that bugs me when the bully aspect is brought up in these werewolf stories because they'll literally use pack dynamics and the mate bond to like brainwash their lovers against their will. Like there was one story I never even posted about that I dropped very quickly because the plot was "girl with strong wolf literally gets drugged with pheromones to have sex with her notoriously mean Alpha mate, she really doesn't have a choice, he wears her down enough that she isn't resisting by the time he decides 'oh I won't mark you by force I want you to want me'" but like, I'm trying to remember all the heinous shit he did? She didn't want to have sex with him and he orders her on her hands and knees and literally puts pheromones inside of her so she's aroused enough for them to have sex like that's drugging and coercion and rape like he literally puts her in the dungeon for a time out "until she learns her place"? And HES THE ML???? IM SUPPOSED TO LOOK PASSED THAT? Sorry I don't care if he spends 20 years apologizing. What is this mindset that some horrible things can be undone, like sometimes the fact you did it in the first place is enough to warrant consequences

You're hitting the nail on the head with that synopsis description bc before I pick a story I usually read the description and my god are some of them baaaaaad, and no grammar sometimes too 🙄 what is the vetting process for some of these? Some concepts just sound so kooky and also as an adult it can be skeezy when a lot of these stories are like, talking about minors in high-school having sex? Like sometimes they emphasize werewolves are naturally beautiful and sometimes they'll just basically sleep around with humans just for some warm holes that adore them and theres some fucked up mentality in that.

(As a side note I just found another audiobook thats like appropriate length and it seems high production value and even like the skill of the author is standing out to me 😳 but. I think the protag is the man in the relationship and I prefer when it focuses on the ladies but, lmao I guess more werewolf drama posts coming soon? Wow they make this girl bathe in the river and use an outhouse and she's the previous Alpha's daughter and an Alpha herself :/)

Tbh now that I'm, you know, getting older and I'm 26 now I don't mind toooo much when the male love interests are young but like don't throw that "he's only 20 and he's the richest ceo in the entire world and he owns a private island factory and owns 50 Bugattis and his dick is 10 inches" shit at me ok, and he's 20 and to me that means he might as well be like 16. Give me a man in his 30s or 40s. Where are the silver foxes. Let me fuck someone's fit grandpa. Reinhardt from Overwatch can still get in these guts

But yeah I really need to actually back into my phone bookmarks and catch up on all my manhwa again because a lot of them were really cathartic in terms of getting revenge and also, I didn't have to pay by the chapter for those 😅

[87dvhnk]

i know i dog on neo!dick a lot (e.g. "deathwing is a misogynist hate crime"), but, this being a problem I have with the later new titans writing, why does no one care? why does no one care that dick vista is there in their reality? why does no one notice or care that he was essentially possesed by a demon if that demon were powerpuff girls' him in being a perfect early oughts conflation of deviant sexuality (coded homosexual) and evil but less subtle and with a nipple piercing and us now kidnapping maiming and killing and beating the stuffing out of and raping his girlfriend. he's kind of innocent. shouldn't miri, or any of the other teamers who know him well, wonder what happened to him? why did early access dick not want to meet with him, to learn shit about the future (some of it overlapped post-split) if not speak with what would have been himself?recruit him? work something out? he and kory are literally popping bottles when donna tries to tell them mr. french cut rolled up the farm bit because they're getting married the only siginifance ricardo nuevo has to their lives is getting rid of miri as she has her prime dick and would no longer go after dick prime. miri is not the issue; why does no one acknowledge mini bang max ass? and where is raven? why does no one seem to care that she's out there despite the huge threat she poses to the world and the harm she has done to them personally? it's like technis wiped that whole deal off the drawing board. is the father of miri's baby rhe tighter the ass lifting thigh holsters the closer to god or raven? like demonic fetching. is boots still with us? the kid said there was a lot of blood.

these are not even all my questions. and while I do feel a strong emotional disconnect due to how blase, really, the characters act about incredibly significant shit (i went a little wild about how incredible that page of miri finding and destroying the clock was because it combined art, storytelling, and reasonable emotion and overreaction after a traumatizing event), the greater problem is that the narrative is a fucking mess. I mean that's, like, the point of zero hour, right, which I'm going to start soon. but jesus. the writing, especially in the new titans, has been pretty terrible.

i know i'm missing shit here and there but like. this run of new titans feels like it's outlived it's welcome and it's no surprise there's not many issues left. it feels cancelled. zero hour feels like a cancelled tv show's desperate attempt to wrap everything up after having been cancelled.

team titans, if you get the snap, you deserved better.

if they snap my girl miri......