#Hound may not forgive me..

[lonely-moon-artist-blog]

That one trend.

I wasn't planning on drawing anything today really, but before work yesterday i was challenged with some uh weird drawing.

Someone, I won't say who said:

"Someone should draw Abel like this."

I joked about it like maybe for wtwo shiny coins I'll do that, and then other person sended me emojis of coins so.. yeah. I gave in ad drew that. It was a blast tho..

The pictures will be under cut cause even tho i am proud that i drew that kinda.. good I'm still a bit self conscious..

▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬

Also bonus with Bunny.

I can't avoid drawing him.

[yanderedrabbles]

Letters from a Yandere Vampire

December 7th, 1886

Dear y/n,

Please do not think me presumptuous for writing to you so soon, but my heart would give me no rest. I have been unable to stop thinking of you since our encounter at the Duke's soiree.

Perhaps it is my countenance or perhaps my foreign heritage, but London's débutantes seem to find me positively frightful. I had resigned myself to yet another evening of disappointment when you introduced yourself to me.

In all my travels, I have met few ladies with your boldness of spirit. You transformed my dour evening into one of unimaginable enjoyment.

I have included with my letter some pressed flowers from my native Transylvania. You expressed much interest in the botany of my homeland and I hope these will intrigue you.

Your interest in my travels is remarkably flattering. And, if I may be so bold, may I invite you to a dinner at my salon? I have much still to share.

Yours sincerely,

Count Nicolae Drăculești

December 17th, 1886

My dearest y/n,

How I enjoyed our evening together! When we danced, I felt my soul set afire. In my travels, none have so captivated me.

Do not think me hasty, but I have sent my messenger with a gift. I can think of no better place for these jewels than around your neck. Please, accept them with my most sincere compliments.

You amused me very much when you pointed out my teeth. My fangs are indeed much longer and sharper than a normal man's. Perhaps you wish to feel their sharpness against your skin?

The nights grow longer and colder. Do you dislike the winter darkness, I wonder. Or do you only long for someone to share it with, as I do?

Ah, forgive my rambling! I'm writing to ask if you will allow me the privilege of escorting you to the Yuletide ball? I can think of no finer gift to celebrate Christmas.

I must soon depart for my home and I insist on spending more time together before then.

Yours,

Nicolae Drăculești

December 25th, 1886

My love,

Merry Christmas! I walked through the untouched snow and even London seemed beautiful and pure.

In this cold, I can think of nothing but having you with me. A day without you is an eternity past.

It seems I have been waiting for you for centuries. Is it to bold to say you are the woman of my dreams? Forgive this fool his insolence, but when I write to you I feel possessed.

You have asked me at length about my aversion to the Church and silver. You are such a logical creature but there are some things beyond the realm of science.

Seek to know no more, for both our sakes.

Another matter has been bothering me of late. I have noticed Lord Lancaster has expressed an interest in you.

The man fawns over you like a slobering hound. As your companion, it is my duty to advise against him. He is unworthy of your attention, much less your sympathy. 

Surely you see that it is you and I that are the more compatible match?

Ever yours,

Nicușor

January 1st, 1887

Dear,

I wished to keep you ignorant of my nature. And yet, you have seen me unmasked. A creature of the night.

It was your blood that did it. A single drop was all it took for my instinct to take over.

I hope you are unhurt. If I were in my right mind, I never would have pinned you against the wall as I did. I never would have forced my kiss upon you.

I could hear your heart racing when I showed you my fangs. Why did you not scream?

Did I fighten you into silence? Or was it something else?

You asked me what you are to me and at the time I had no answer to give. Are you my prey? My meal?

I have spent all night in thought and still I fear uttering these words.

You are my beloved.

My heart belongs entirely to you, wretched and sinful though it may be. No blood is sweeter than yours.

I burn for you, my darling.

I grow agitated at each day that passes when we are not together. My treacherous mind plays such awful tricks on me. Surely you have not cast me aside for another? Or worse, have I frightened you beyond redemption?

Oh, banish the thought! Who has your affection? Your love?

Please, put my poor heart at ease. Meet me in the gazebo at the end of your garden after sunset.

I cannot bear to be parted from you much longer.

Ever your slave,

Nicușor

y/n,

My castle must be prepared for your arrival and I have set forth with great haste to do so. In case you awake before my return, I've left you this letter.

You are currently on board a private train car bound for Transylvania. Do not attempt to leave. My guards have strict orders to ensure you reach home.

You are changed, my dear.

I have bitten you and transformed you into a creature like myself. Upon our final meeting, I intended only to say goodbye. You are too fine and beautiful a creature to be wasted on the likes of me.

But when I saw you in the moonlight, I could not help myself.

You are so beautiful. So bright and lively. You are what my cold halls have lacked all these many years.

My love, I drank your blood. Every drop of it. Nothing in my centuries of existence has ever tasted so sweet, so right.

It can be frightening, I know. But do not despair.

The light of the sun will forever be out of reach, but there are a thousand traits you've gained. Strength. Speed. Immortality.

The grave will never taste your flesh, old age will never hound at your door.

As I am the one who changed you, I am also your Lord and Master. The bond between us is forged in blood. Wherever I go, you must always follow. If I am to die, so shall you. If I am to command, you must obey.

It is a tight leash and not one of my devising, I assure you.

I intend to be your partner and not your Lord. So for both our sakes, my love, do not give me cause to use that power.

You and I have all eternity together. Does it please you as it does me?

I have longed for a bride for centuries. You cannot imagine the loneliness. And in all those years, none have impressed themselves upon my heart as you have.

I have stolen you from the sunshine and into my world of night and blood. I have ripped away any hope of heaven and salvation. No God now, no church or altar.

I am a rogue and a thief and still I beg of you. Please love, do not hate me.

I've made you into my vampire bride.

Your husband,

Nicușor Drăculești

[allswellinthiswell]

TOUCHSTARVED Updated Demo Shtuff

[SPOILERS] Anyone feeling a bit unsure about some of the changes to the demo?

Tag I'm using for this topic: #touchstarved updated demo spoilers

Honestly, idk how to feel about the changes to Leander's dialogue and personality... but I want to play the whole thing a few times before really formulating an opinion. We're naturally going to be somewhat resistant to change when it comes to things that work, and I don't want to be too biased.

For now, I guess I'll say that I really liked the new area that the main character gets to explore with Kuras... ( ˘͈ ᵕ ˘͈♡) ... That was a nice change of scenery, for sure. Very beautiful drawing.

Also, the Hound backstory is gone! That's so incredibly sad! I've been designing an MC and that backstory was the best for them :(( I'm probably going to use it anyway, tbh... There was so much potential to it...

Current minor gripes:

The game continues to imply that the MC is shorter than the cast sometimes, which can be a bit eh...

I think the editor may have forgotten that the MC sleeps the entire day away after meeting Leander. There's some points where the game acts as though everything is still happening on the same day. That is, unless I'm actually blind.

If Mhin is from somewhere else, as Kuras implies in his route, but Mhin outright states that they grew up in Eridia when you first meet them in the new version, why doesn't the MC notice that when talking to Kuras? Either Mhin is lying about their origins to both the MC and Kuras, or they've told Kuras one thing and the MC another, or it's an error. Anyone else notice this?

The NECK description for that lowlife guy, man. It wasn't great before (my thighs are massive lmaooo - dude would be built like a one piece character), but I don't think it's great now, either. I honestly think they should just show that the guy is an imposing figure through other means. They continue to imply that Ais is taller, but this guy can't be?

Mhin deserved more :( I liked their intro, but... idk... I would have liked more? (Ｔ▽Ｔ)

Nvm I decided to add most of what I feel here:

I guess there is one thing I find odd about the characterization of Leander, and it's all the little moments that we've lost. Like the moment where the Bloodhounds (now Adderstones (?)) get angry at the MC for bringing up the Senobium. Leander didn't act until they looked to him for help, but in this one, he simply gets up and takes the MC outside. Hrm...

Overall, they seem to have made him more earnest and a bit more straightforward, likely to lull the player and the MC into thinking he's harmless, but after all the advertising... all that marketing basically confirming that he's a real piece of work... I dunno. I think it could've been more subtle?? Like in the previous demo?? His cheerful and flirty attitude, which is muted in the updated demo until later, is what almost got me in the previous version of the game. I wasn't completely suspicious. It kept me guessing.

Now, I just see through every gesture. That scene we get with him at the end of his route thus, and please forgive my language, freaked me the absolute fuck out. Had the game not shoved it in your face that he's a Bad Guy so much, I feel as though I wouldn't have immediately panicked when he locked the door. I'm likely to get a bad end with him because I'm so cautious now, tbh. Whoops lmao. Like, okay, anyone can get away with a few comments (the leash one was wild), and MC does question him a bit after all that manipulation, but surely a situation like THAT is bound to be more alarming to a person? Especially after so many near death experiences and meeting so many shady people? Is my preference for a slower pace, like in the other routes, making me a bit of a dingus?

There's a real good moment, though, and it's after the MC shows Leander their curse. He asks their name. Suddenly, after revealing what could be a weapon against the Senobium, you become a person of interest to him. Although, person might be a stretch. As such, I kind of understand these changes. He's the reassuring, trustworthy guy in a sea of assholes. Guy wants to isolate you as soon as possible so that you'll become reliant on him and only him, and what better way to do that than giving the MC what they so desperately crave while they incur debt after debt? I just... I wish they hadn't jumped the gun so fast?

Anyway, these are all my thoughts. Leander's route was still enjoyable for the most part haha. It really shows the kind of person he is. I haven't felt that unnerved by a character in a while!

I dunno! It's my first playthrough, so my opinion is liable to change. I'd love to hear other people's thoughts, too.

[honeyxbunny99]

Sandor Clegane~ The Bitch and The Hound pt.2

After another evening spent dining alone, watching as Anna carried the half-empty food tray away, you began to wonder if the hound was eating at all. If he was, who had he been dining with? You felt a pang of jealousy and narrowed your brows in confusion at it. Day 3 of your matrimony was coming to a close, and you felt incredibly alone. You saw the hound once in the garden, walking with a purpose as always, and offered him a small smile. He offered nothing in return-- did not even meet your eyes. In the moment you were hurt and embarrassed. Now, after all of this neglect, you were angry. This is not how a marriage was supposed to be, even an arranged one. Perhaps the marriages you were imagining were only tall tales. Perhaps every man hated his woman, and every woman hated her man-- only tolerating each other long enough to put on a show for the public and make babies.

You had nothing personal to reflect on; your parents' marriage ended in tragedy before you were old enough to comprehend the intricacies of what may have led to such an end.

~"Your mother was an angel, and this world is a hell. She had to be with her kind."

That was a generous quote you remember your father telling you when you were still young and innocent. You wondered now, however, if he truly held her memory in such high regard, or if he only wanted you to think positively of her and stop asking hard questions.

Your father kept you so sheltered that you even felt separate from your sister. She was allowed to go out unescorted. Allowed to have friends, fall down and scrape her knees, make mistakes. All because she had been born later than you. Surely she held your beauty, the same genetics coursing through her veins. It was never depended upon though. Your father did not worry about preserving her as he did you, and in truth you resented the both of them for that. You grew up inside the walls of your small cottage. The only independent travel permissible to you was through books. You took full advantage of this. Your father would bring home books that taught you manners, how to dance, how to care for your hair and skin. You promised to be a good study in all of those areas and more so long as he also provided fantasy and romance and history whenever he could.~

Everything you'd spent your entire life learning seemed to be for nothing if your marriage continued down this trajectory. The Hound cared not for fantasies, had no manners, and hated to hear you talk. You chewed on the inside of your cheek in contempt for him. Even the beauty you tried so hard to care for had no effect on him. You felt utterly useless.

"Is there anything else I can help you with tonight, milady?" Anna broke your focus, and you were thankful. Your bitter thoughts were getting you nowhere.

"Where is my husband?"

Anna looked nervously at the floor. "I do not know, milady..."

You rolled your eyes but gave her a quick smile. It wasn't her fault. "Then that will be all. Thank you, Anna."

The two of you shared an embrace and you closed your eyes at the comfort of contact. She held you back tightly and giggled. If you did not have her, perhaps you would have thrown yourself out of that window.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Sandor's voice boomed and the both of you startled and pulled away.

"Forgive me, Lord Clegane!" Anna rushed out, stammering with an explanation.

"I embraced her." You said boldly.

"Why?"

"Why do you find it appropriate to curse in front of a lady?"

"I see no ladies here." He grumbled, staring you down. Your lips curled in anger, and you mumbled to Anna to go to her room. She glanced between the two of you before casting her eyes to the floor out of fear and retreating past the hound, who growled like a dog as she passed. The door slammed shut behind him.

"Is being rude all that you know?" You scolded him.

His brows knit together in anger. "Is being daft all YOU know?!" He crossed the room to you quickly, but you stood your ground. "You don't touch the servants, you don't call them by their first names, you don't pretend she's your bloody fucking sister!"

You were surprised he was even aware of your family.

"You don't even know that girl! Do you realize how fast she'd hand you over to Joffrey if you let the right thing slip out in front of her!" His large hands swallowed your arms as he shook you slightly, trying to get some sense into you.

"You know her even less! Anna would never--"

"You didn't know the girl but 2 days! Now you want to play dollies and kiss--"

"It was a hug!" You shouted back.

"I forbid it!"

You laughed in his face. His pressure on your arms grew.

"I am your husband, you daft little cunt and what I say goes!" "You are a joke!" You spit back. "You are no more my husband than my father is noble! You certainly can parade around as if you were, but the Gods see through your falsehoods. They know we are not truly joined. And if you continue neglecting me the Red Keep shall know as well."

"You think the Gods care where and when I stick my pecker, you've got some very bored idols..." He released your arms and you tried to keep your face stoic. "If anyone is going to question our marriage it'll be your fault, and it'll be your head on a pike, not mine." He smirked. "I'm your punishment! You, you're meant to be my prize. Something to chew on for the King's old dog." He looked you up and down.

"A prize you reject but wish so dearly to protect from evil handmaidens." You squinted at him with disgust. "Don't ever speak to Anna like that again."

He laughed, brows raised. "You mean to tell me what to do? I could crush your bones and not break a sweat, love."

"Do it then." You dared.

He stared at you like you were crazy.

"The moment I cursed Joffrey I anticipated death. It would have been worth it, were it only my life on the line... I would have cursed and sworn until my tongue was cut out and then fought some more." Sandor quirked a brow at you slowly. "But it wasn't just me... It was my father, daft and rude as he is, and my sister. Instead of death he gave me you, only you... But you don't want me. Could never want me. His intention was to humiliate me but I did not feel embarrassed."

"Frightened." He grumbled.

"Frightened, yes. You're very imposing, but it wasn't to do with your looks or even how you handled me... I was, am, frightened of losing all I have known in my life. I have only ever had my sister and my father, and now I can never have them again. You won't even allow me a bond with a handmaiden. I only have you and you want nothing to do with me. Even now you hide yourself in the shadows. You do not deem to speak to me except to threaten or intimidate. I have no one to talk to, no one to touch... The curse the king gave me was isolation." You realized too late that tears had fallen from your eyes. You wiped them with your fingers and took a deep breath.

"Please leave me." You asked quietly.

"You cry about isolation and then ask me to leave?" Sandor narrowed his eyes. "If being with me is so bad then I suppose Joffrey should have been more merciful with death, eh?"

You rolled your eyes. "Being with you is not bad! You don't understand what I'm saying!"

"Then what are you saying, princess, your wish is my command!"

His sarcastic voice broke you. "I want you!" You shouted, causing his hard demeanor to shrink down. "I want to know you, to be near you. I want to please you, but I don't know how--"

"Stop talking." He said gruffly.

You sighed, closing your mouth as another tear slipped down your cheek. You didn't bother wiping this one, he'd already seen you for the vulnerable, pathetic, lonely little girl that you were. You watched him struggle with something in his mind before stalking over to you again. He pulled off his cape and offered it to you, looking into the fire to the right of you.

You took it gently, confused.

"For your tears."

Suddenly you were nervous, but raised the cloth up to wipe away the wetness on your face.

"Do you wish to go home?"

Now you were REALLY confused. "I cannot."

"Do you wish it?... If you could, if... If I could make that happen for you, sneak you away." His eyes were shifting between yours and the flames. You weighed it in your mind, but the truth didn't take long to reveal itself.

"No..." You said truly. "I wish to make a new home." You tried to hand him back his cape, fingers brushing against his.

"Keep it." He commanded. Finally, his eyes settled on you, analyzing your face. You took the opportunity to analyze his. He was handsome, even with the scars. Anna had told you some story about his brother mutilating him when they were just boys, and it hurt your heart at the time. His complexion with split in half, warm glow of the fire illuminating the left, untouched side, and moonbeams cast through your window highlighting the right.

"If playing house with that servant girl makes you feel better about it all, then do it. Just don't let anyone else see. If you fear for your head by me not being around, then I'll come to you every night that I can."

"I don't want you around out of fear--"

"Well you don't want to know me. Shouldn't... There's not much about me that wouldn't disgust you in the end anyways." He nodded, resolving to his next statement. "But I can guard you. Keep you safe."

"I-..." You sighed, wanted to tell him how you desired him like a husband. "Thank you, my lord."

"I told you in this room you don't have to call me that."

"Well, I'm not calling you dog."

"S'what I am."

"Not to me... Your real name is Sandor, correct?"

He made no move to answer.

"Did you know that it means protector?" You felt embarrassed but couldn't help words before they spilled out of your mouth. You were only trying to be civil, find some common ground to build on. "Once I had a book full of all the names you could imagine and beside them was their meaning, their origin, famous people that shared that name... I loved that book. You were born to be a protector."

"I wasn't born to be anything."

"Do you truly believe that?" "Aye. If I were named something pompous, I would not have wound up a king. I would have ended up the same burnt brute I am today, only with a name that didn't match."

You smiled sheepishly at his explanation and nodded. "Yes, perhaps the concept is a little silly... Anna's name means graceful..."

He widened his eyes and nodded once. "Horse shite." To which you giggled softly. When you looked back up at him through your lashes you could almost swear you saw his face changing color. He cleared his throat and walked away but you took quick steps to catch him before he could reach the door. You grabbed his armored bicep with both hands and said, "Wait..."

He obeyed, turning his head to watch your hands on him.

You cleared your own throat nervously. "You didn't come to me last night..." Hearing the obvious he turned to you waiting for you to continue. "I was thinking... You could stay tonight."

His lip curled up in the smallest, cocky smirk. "I can stay any night I like, it's my room."

"What I mean is," you tried to remain polite, but your tone was betraying your mild annoyance. "Would you like to stay the night with me?" He blinked at you, smirk disappearing just as quickly as it had come. "I would like you to stay the night with me..." You pushed further. You realized your hands were still wrapped around his strong arm and you carefully slid them off, feeling shy.

"You have to sleep some time, don't you?" You tried again after a moment of silence. "I swear not to bother you. I'll- I'll keep to myself, I'll move silently, I'll go straight to sleep and I can even sleep on the floor--"

Sandor rolled his eyes at you and turned around to lock the door. "Crazy bitch." He grumbled under his breath, but you heard. Despite him insulting you, you felt a smile spread across your face. He would stay with you. Stay because you asked him to. Perhaps your husband knew kindness after all.

He walked past you and began to undo the clasps of his armor. "You're not sleeping on the damn floor."

"Neither are you." You turned to him, hoping this wouldn't cause another argument. You watched him continue removing his hard outer layer and waited for a response. "I don't bite..."

"I do." Sandor retorted, back still to you. You folded your hands nervously behind your back.

"I think your bark is worse than your bite... Did you know I was bit by a dog once? A real dog? It's the only scar that I have--"

"Didn't you swear not to bother me?" He put out the fire. His harshness made heat rise to your cheeks in embarrassment.

You nodded remembering the only reason he agreed to stay here was because you promised you would move silently. You moved quietly over to the bed and pulled the covers and furs into place, trying to make it look as inviting as possible. You considered removing your dress but knew you were on thin ice, so instead you climbed into your side and slid under the covers. You watched Sandor sit down in the large chair and begin to drink the wine straight from the pitcher. You watched him close his eyes and lean back, as though he was settling in to sleep in the chair. You supposed it was better than nothing and turned away from him, trying to close your eyes and let sleep take over you.

You began counting shooting stars in the blackness of your mind. You got all the way to 105 when you heard your husband's voice chime in again, making you flinch.

"You said you got bit?" His inquiry paired with the grumpy tone confused you but still a smile began to form. You sat up slowly and twisted around to face him. All you could see was a big brooding shadow still sat in the chair.

You nodded and then paused, taking a breath and then holding it. "You can't sleep?"

"Hardly ever do. Wine's shit." He grumbled.

"Hmm..." You nodded. "So, you'd like one of my stories to put you to sleep, s'that it?" You heard him blow a laugh through his nose and mentally cheered. "Happy to oblige... A bedtime story works best when spoken softly though, are you sure you wouldn't care to listen to it from the bed?"

No movement, no sound. You sighed, holding your hands up in surrender. "I won't touch you, not unless you want me to."

He scoffed out a condescending sound before rising from the chair and cross the room slowly. "Such a dutiful little wife." It sounded like an insult.

"I could be a good one, you know. My whole life my father taught me the best he could to care for my future husband."

"I don't need a wife, never wanted one." "Never? Not even as a boy?"

"I was never a boy, only smaller than I am today." He laid down in the bed and it made your side rise up. You smiled and tried not to laugh at the image in your mind of a shrunken Sandor Clegane. He was trying to be intimidating but you thought it was adorable.

"It's true then." He said, his body turned away from you. "Your father made you play wife..." Your brows furrowed together as you stared at his back. "Cook, clean, fuck you cause you looked like your mother." His words dropped so casually but they made a lump form in your throat and your stomach felt sick.

"What?!" He didn't answer. You shoved his back hard, though barely moving him. "What did you say to me?! How dare you spread lies about me!"

Angry tears burned at your eyes and when he sat up to face you, you pulled your hand back to slap him. He caught you by your wrist. "Don't you EVER--" "I didn't start it, I just heard it! Gods woman settle down!" He said as you attempted to hit him with your other hand, body writhing to get out of his grasp. You struggled and whined, "FUCK!!" You cried out, head dropping to hide the hot tears that slipped past your lashes. Finally you stopped squirming and only cried quitely.

He still held your wrists, though his grip was softening. His eyes were wild still in reaction to you. How was it you were so small and weak and yet unafraid of him? Were you truly that daft?

"It's not true. It's not true, Sandor." His heart softened a bit at the mention of his name crossing your tongue once again. Finally, he let go of his hold on you slowly. He didn't know quite what to do for you, but he could still see droplets of tears forming on your dress. Almost nervously his hand went out to pet your hair.

"Aye, it's not true, girl. It's not true..." He tried to comfort and was relieved when you did not flinch at his touch.

Your head was still swimming in shame however. You realized now why he didn't want you as a wife. He thought you were dirty, used, broken by your father. Slowly, when you realized his hand on your head you looked up at him. "It's not true, please don't think it of me, Sandor... If my father ever touched me, if anyone ever dared to, I'd kill him."

His eyes widened at you again. "My whole life depended on me being pure for my husband, to save my family from poverty. Why would he ruin all of that just to satisfy an urge? Why would I let him?!" You were getting worked up again and he saw it, so he put his hands on either side of your face to steady your vision on him.

"It's not true, it's a bloody lie, and if I ever hear it again, I'll kill the man who speaks it."

The determination in his voice, the way his eyes were meeting yours, his warm hands gentle on your face; it all made you believe him and forgive him in an instant.

"I'm sorry..." You mumbled, feeling shy again at the closeness. He watched your (e/c) eyes scan over his face and he grew insecure again as he admired your dark, wet lashes all clumped together from tears.

"It's alright..." He dropped his hands and you mourned the loss. "I'd probably try to kill someone too if they said my father fucked me any time he wanted to." You cringed again at the allegation.

"I wasn't trying to kill you..." You defended, trying to feel normal again.

"You couldn't anyway." "Sure I could." He barked out a laugh and raised his brows.

"Not even if I was half-dead already."

You guffawed, actually offended at the truth. "You're lucky I don't desire you dead." You raised your brows and folded your arms below your chest playfully.

"Aye you just desire me in your bed..." He relaxed his back against the headboard, arms folding up behind his head almost confidently.

You blushed but couldn't argue much against the statement. Still, you were going to try, it was your nature. "You're the one so desperate to hear my stories that you'd crawl into bed with a stranger who repulses you."

"A stranger?" He opened one eye to look you up and down.

"Aye, a stranger." You mocked his accent. "You probably don't even know my name."

"(Y/n)."

This actually caught you off guard. "How did you--" "Your father said it when he was trying to sell you to the king."

You hadn't expected him to remember a detail like that, but you enjoyed hearing him say your name for the first time.

"(Y/n) Clegane now. Easy to remember even for me." He relaxed again into his arms, but you were freaking out on the inside. Your names together, spoken by him in this bed, made you tremble.

"Am I ever going to hear this story, or should I give up and go find better wine to drink myself to sleep?"

You sighed at his sass. "Lay down then and be quiet."

"M'fine right here, girl."

You smirked at him. "Afraid to let your guard down again? Scared to be hit by a little girl?" You watched his smile grow uncontrollably, yet he kept his eyes shut.

"You should be afraid to break a nail, princess."

Huffing again, you began, speaking softly in hopes of relaxing him.

"I was young, and had just had my first blood..." You hid your face in your hands in embarrassment.

"Woman, what are you--"

"It's important I swear. Now shut up." You paused a moment before continuing and when you looked back at him his eyes were shut again. "As I said... I was young and bleeding and suffering, honestly... But my father insisted we had to go into town again. Each month, like clockwork, my father would walk me through the town, sometimes we stopped at shops, made conversation, but it was all about making sure I wasn't forgotten... My whole life I was made to believe I was untouchable. Something people had to want, had to earn. He wanted me to be a pretty thing in the backs of people's minds."

"You were his trophy... I'm sure he did the same to your mother."

You looked at him, surprised he was actually listening. His eyes still shut, but now his arms were down by his sides. You shifted slightly to lay down and rest on your own arm, taking the opportunity to admire him while getting lost in your own story.

"Perhaps that's why she killed herself... I know that there were times, like the one in this story actually, where my father's ego made me want to die... But that's beside the point. I was uncomfortable that day, I felt like the men could smell it on me..." You shook your head at the memory. "It was my first time out as a woman and the men knew, they must have known because the way they leered after me made my stomach turn worse than it had already been... Finally, when my father stopped to show magic to a group of kids in the street, I snuck away. Foolish, I know. I do a lot of foolish things... But I, I snuck back into an alleyway just to get away from the stares. I thought I might avoid them forever if I just kept walking... I stopped down one empty street when I saw a dog digging through rubbish. He was black, so skinny you see all of his ribs, and even his hip bones. I remember watching the dogs desperate search for food, and being moved to tears. There was this poor, abandoned, starving thing, and I was feeling sorry for myself because I was pretty....

"I had been carrying a basket of fruit, I.. I thought surely it would be more appealing to the dog than the soiled rags. I called the dog over, I--" you shook your head a released a small breathy laugh, "I think I called it handsome... The dog approached, and smelled the hand I had out to offer... And then he smelled my skirts, and I realized he did not want my fruit." You bit your lip as the pain throbbed once again. "He tackled me, the scrawny thing. He pounced on me and barked in my face; his teeth so close to my eye I thought he would tear it out... I screamed and thrashed but he was too heavy... He bit my arm when I tried to hit him and then he went down to my legs... It's like he was possessed, he needed meat...

"He bit down and tore open my thigh. He started chewing on my flesh, I could hear it mashing between his teeth even over my screams... And then suddenly the weight was gone, and I could sit. And when I did, I saw my father... Beating the dog's head in with a stone... And as I held my leg, I wept... I got that dog killed, because of my selfishness and my stupidity." You nodded, feeling the sorrow but being strong enough now not to cry about it. "I got in trouble, obviously, for straying... My father was disappointed in the damage to my body, but after a few days, he came to me and said that he was glad it had been a hound to find me and not a man. That a man could have ruined me in ways far worse... I hated him for it. I hated him for killing the dog and I hated the fact that he knew the evil of men, and still made them lust for me. Still wanted to sacrifice me to one for the good of the family..."

"He was right to kill the dog." His voice was soft, sleepy, and you were relieved your yammering seemed to be working.

"I had no hatred toward the dog... He couldn't help it, he was starving. He did what dogs do when they smell blood. It was my fault for putting him in danger."

"Your life is worth more than a dogs."

"To my father, clearly." You joked.

"To everyone... That dog was gonna die anyway, the way I see it you put him out of his misery."

You reflected on his thoughts. "Maybe... But I've always liked hounds more than men." You smiled. His face was totally relaxed, posture at ease, and breath growing more noticeable. Just a little more... "Anyways... I healed up. My father and I worked on my leg together and he says he can hardly see it now... I still see it though, of course. Sometimes when I'm alone, I run my fingers along it. I like the way it feels. The skin there is more sensitive than the rest and it even hurts still, if I think on it. It's the worst pain I have ever felt. My father said it would serve as a reminder of how delicate I was, and to never stray from him, lest I be hurt again... But even pain can be kind when you're used to feeling nothing..."

You finished your ramblings, studying him once again. His chest heaved slowly, you could see his chest hair poking out of his tunic and you thought honestly again how handsome he was when he wasn't being an ass. You wished you could reach out and hold him gently.

"I'm sorry, that wasn't much of a bedtime story. With luck, you'll not have to run from dogs in your dreams..." You tried to make light of the situation. "Sandor?" You called softly, shifting to sit up ever so gently. After no response you smiled to yourself. He was still sitting up, and you felt that since his guard was down, he could not fight you on being gentle to him.

You slowly reached your hand out to barely graze over his hair, admiring the texture. "I should not have hit you... I want to be gentle to you." You confessed in a whisper, knowing he could not hear. "I want to tell you more stories, better ones that were written by people more worldly than me, and I want to fall asleep to your stories too..." You sighed in contentment. "You never wanted a wife, and I never wanted a husband... But," you maneuvered him and the pillows gently so that he was in a position closer to laying down. "Maybe this can work." You settled, looking at him one last time before settling down carefully next to him, ensuring there was enough space between your bodies. You closed your eyes, feeling awfully tired now too.

"What does (Y/n) mean?" His voice from behind you made your heart skip a beat and your eyes snap open. Your breathing quickened and you covered your mouth to hide it.

~No, no, no! He was asleep! He was! Surely, he couldn't hear me, couldn't know--~

You nearly cried again from embarrassment.

~Be asleep, be asleep~ You told yourself.

"In your little book of names... What does it mean?" He asked again, and you knew there was no point in pretending.

Instead you grabbed the fur blanket and threw it over your head to hide your face, as if that would make it better. At the possibility of him being awake for your confessions, your caressing of his hair, you just wanted to disappear. Still you took a deep breath and recalled aloud.

"It means divine princess... My mother picked it." You held your breath waiting for his response.

"It..." He said and you felt him turn in bed. "It suits you... I," He dragged out the letter, "like your name..."

~Is he trying to compliment me??~ After a moment you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. No one had ever made you blush as much as Sandor Clegane. You hid your face in your hands again, even though you knew it was impossible for him to see you now. He groaned after your giggle and you felt him turn back around to face the wall. Your smile began to hurt your cheeks and you took a breath.

"I like your name, too..."

[eldritch-spouse]

Where have these angels failed, for you to see them as inferior than a conduit for a spirit?

I just need to point at Hell's influence over earth to answer that question.

The image of these ancient Seraphim and Thrones beefing with a familiar, animal or object so fucking funny to me. I just know angels like Belo and Jonesy would lowkey be jealous over the connection you'd share with your familiar, they are your friend, part of your magic and even Mentor. And when the Familar is a animal, when it dies you'll still have that connection and can commune with them. Death is not the end for your kinship.

A closeness these angels could never achieve with you. Now that's juicy

And I just know your familiar would be hella judgemental of those angles too.

Familiar: You need to stop picking up strays.

Jonesy: Who are yo-

Familiar: Silence twink!⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️⚡️

And then Jonesy get's a spiritual ass whooping

[Jealousy gets more dangerous the higher the rank.]

A thoroughly pissed off seraphim, having transformed into his larger, defensive stance, sits on the ground of your basement, your familiar lies on the opposite end.

Both of them are grounded for effectively and consistently distracting you from delicate processes.

" You are a pestilence to this residence. " The familiar seems to rattle in place. " Sucking the energy out of others like a bottomless abyss, who are you to come between the bond of my witch and I? "

The angels' winged halo tenses and flexes, a display of aggression as clear as the blaze of holy eyes. The eyes that try so hard to blind your familiar, to push them out of their own vessel.

" Who are you, verminous wretch, to come between my beloved Lady and her seraphim?! " He spits back. " Her Benevolence is truly crowned in glory, an infinite embrace capable of sparing someone as insolent as yourself. "

The room shakes.

" Don't preach to me. I was bonded to her long before you tracked my poor witch like a filthy blood hound. "

A bristling radiance spreads.

" Ignorant, bumbling fool! Blind! My mere existence precedes yours in centuries upon centuries! May she forgive you- "

" Isn't it ironic then, that it took me significantly less time to mentor and protect this witch? For all those centuries of holiness, you are glaringly incompetent- We were doing just fine without you. "

The seraphim rises, seeming to just barely hold himself back from scorching your familiar in the bruning pale fires now heating the room up.

" Your heresy will know limits, spirit! It is only by her sacred demand that you have not yet been sent to Dorem- A detestable soul such as you is too foul to be allowed any conduits! "

" Such vitriol coming from a supposed angel of love- "

" I will teach you why we are called the burning ones you- "

The basement doors slam apart.

" WILL BOTH OF YOU QUIET THE FUCK DOWN ALREADY?! "

The next soundless hour is extremely productive.

[soap-ify]

mdni.

YOU'RE AN ANGEL, I'M A DOG | simon 'ghost' riley x reader

05 — i'll meet the judgement by the hounds.

chapter summary — a fool and a coward, that's the realisation you had come to.

tags / cw — no smut, fluff, a bit domestic honestly, basically reader's drunk and simon takes care of you, bittersweet, simon opens up... a bit, angst, suicidal thoughts, very subtle religious references if they even count as one, simon's in denial and reader is on the verge of losing it all. [4k words]

masterlist | ao3 | prev | next

Simon had come to the conclusion that you were a snake, and your love was your poison. Maybe he really was a coward for being afraid to let your venom drown into his veins.

“Remind me to never take you out for drinking again.”

If it weren’t for Simon holding you carefully against him and walking through the street, you’d surely have collapsed on the ground all drunk and worse, thrown up by now.

It was a little mistake. One drink became two, and then three. You had forgotten about your tolerance, and here you were now. It’s all because of Simon. That’s what your excuse was, blaming it all on him. Which was true in all honesty, you had gotten too excited about this little hangout.

“You’ll never go out with me again?” Completely mishearing his words, you looked up at him with wide eyes, tears already approaching. Yeah, you were completely drunk. Simon froze, his heart tearing at the sight of your incoming tears, even if they were just due to your emotions being all over the place now. Emotions that had always been there, hidden deep within.

His first instinct was to ignore your words and just keep walking, his heart begging for him to comfort you. But again, how does a killer comfort an angel? How would the moon comfort the ocean, while being so far away?

“I didn’t say that.” He gruffly replied and continued to look ahead, not daring to meet your eyes anymore.

O Angel, let me fall on my knees, kiss your fingers, and weep for forgiveness. So you may hold my absolution, and make me man again.

“C’mon, we gotta take you home.” Simon internally cursed himself for not taking you both to the bar in a car. He hadn’t considered the possibility of you being a drunk mess. Do I ever consider anything?

“No!” Your loud whine echoed in the empty pavement, and he could barely hold in a chuckle, deciding to bite his bottom lip beneath his mask. “Can’t we spend more time together, Si?”

I’d spend a lifetime with you. But god forbid he ever said those words. Not to you, not to anyone. “S’not like m’gonna die or somethin’, or that you’ll never see me again.” Simon grumbled and tightened his hand around your waist, accommodating your wobbly body, guiding you.

Simon wished he could take your hands and sway around with you, let both of you move into a sweet dance, with the stars praising you. A performance for the cosmos. He wished he could hold you when you throw yourself over him, to let you never escape his embrace. Lovers forever tangled.

He wished.

He wondered what something like that even would look like. His dad never danced with his mother. He remembers his mother looking at him, holding in her tears and forcing a smile. “I promise your dad loves me, just as much as I love him. He's just… exhausted nowadays.” He wished his mother didn’t consider him a naive — a child.

Simon doesn’t think he was ever a child. A child is innocent, his very first cry was a sin.

“Simon?” Your voice snapped him out of the reminiscence he was trapped in. He let out a soft grunt, urging you to continue.

“Have you… Have you ever seen a ghost?” You burst into laughter at your own poor attempt at the joke, a rapid change of emotion, though in your defence, it’s definitely very funny. Your free hand tried to wipe the tears as you continued laughing, and Simon swore that this was truly the angels’ hymn eliciting from your mouth.

“Do I count?” He grinned behind his mask, the side of his eyes crinkling a bit. You quickly shook your head and stared at him with determined eyes, fully set on your question. “In that case, no. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one, love. But if I do, I’ll make sure to tell ‘em you said hello.”

If it was someone else like Kyle or Johnny who would be laughing about this joke, Simon was sure that he would have said something snarky or just straight up ignored them. But not with you, never with you.

“You’re the best.” You beamed, his heart squeezed painfully.

“We’re almost there.”

Upon arriving at your apartment complex, he dropped you off outside your apartment’s front door, the only thing in mind being to flee quickly so your sweet smile doesn’t taunt him anymore. Though he simply couldn’t, your fingers not letting go off his forearm at all. Too exhausted to figure out if it was intentional or not, he sighed under his breath and turned over to face you, brown eyes having a slight shine in them due to the hallway’s light.

“C’mon, you gotta go in and rest.” He couldn’t figure out why his breathing was falling short. Was it the alcohol? He barely drank anything.

You, on the other hand, tried your best to not look up at him and meet his eyes, knowing that it would shut you up. Like the intimidating gaze of a god, a warrior. You had to speak your mind, had to know about something, to ease the storm in your head.

“Are you getting bored of me?” These words slipped out of your lips as a meek whisper, forbidden.

It was a sickening feeling that ensued within Simon after that, as if something was grabbing his heart and trying to rip it out of his chest. Inhale, exhale. He didn’t know what exactly horrified him. Probably the fact that he knew what had caused you to think like that. The perfume.

O Angel, let me carve my heart out with a knife and hand it to you as an offering — apology. So may your hands embrace it and take me home, with thee. So may your fingers caress my cheek once again, and let my blood paint my skin.

“No.” He was embarrassingly quick to reply, fingers curling up into fists by his sides as he inhaled sharply. How could he put such thoughts into your head? How could I? Only a devil, the most evil being, could commit such atrocity.

You paused at his words, not knowing what else to say. No? Then why was that perfume there? You didn’t want him to think you were dumb enough to not notice that. “You’re lying…” Your voice cracked, and it was no longer the alcohol playing you like a puppet. It was you now. You felt like your own marionette. Stop speaking, fucking stop. “I am not dumb, Si. I saw that p-perfume on your couch the other day. Is that why you got mad at me?” God, stop talking please. “You could have just… said that you prefer other girls. Am I… Am I making a fucking fool out of myself here?” It terrified you, your own emotions terrified you. Your voice was rising just a bit, and all your feelings had their hands wrapped around your throat. Controlling you. You didn’t want to speak, didn’t want to say it out loud. You weren’t used to being so open about your mind, and now you felt like nothing but a cat shivering under the rain — alone and abandoned. Vulnerable, naked.

Maybe you and Simon weren’t so different after all. Vulnerability — just why did it terrify humans? Were the angels and the gods just as opposed to vulnerability?

“Oh, l-” Love. It almost slipped off his tongue, and he didn’t know if you even wanted him to call you that right now. The thought alone made him shudder uncomfortably. He didn’t know what to do — stuck in between two roads. Should he lie? Or tell you the truth? — That it was just one time, a drunken act that is nothing but lamentable to him.

Why were you both even acting like an actual couple right now?

He swallowed the lump that threatened to torture his throat, exhaling softly. “I was drunk, and it happened. She probably left her perfume accidentally.” He spilled the truth out. Just the way a mature person would. Don’t be fucking daft, Riley. His eyes assessed the subtle twitch of your brows at that, your lips quivering. He wished he could just lean in and kiss all the tears away, despite them not having landed on your cheeks. Hopefully they won’t.

“Oh…” Your response was too short, unsure and reluctant. It made Simon feel as if he had sinned once again, chains threatening to drag him into the darkest depths of Hell. Home — the one he was familiar with.

You swallowed nervously and looked down at your feet, your hand long having stopped holding his arm. Instead, your fingers were fiddling with one another anxiously. Why did you feel as if you were betrayed? A desperate cry for love, you wished you could say it to him. To his face, sob and scream about what you felt. He was the only one who understood, who was willing to understand. He was the only one who ever was, and who ever will be.

The agreement. It was no longer just fucking, it never was. Not since the day you saw him with Kyle, not since the day he talked with you after Kyle gestured at you. Never. Could he also see it all the way you did?

Your silence was a clear indicator of the fact that you were lost in your thoughts now. Simon’s eyes softened up, and before he could think rationally, his body reacted on its own and embraced you tightly against his chest, strong arms wrapping around you protectively.

“Fuck…” He cussed under his breath, despising how his voice was thickening up with emotion. He hugged you like an old dog messily giving affection to its owner. My angel, my angel. I sinned, I have sinned. I am sorry.

He pulled you impossibly close, as if wanting to mold his body into yours, to become one. He could be with you forever in that way, to be your breathing and you his heartbeat.

You didn’t even feel confused at his rapid action at all. Just broken, so broken. He was the hammer that had finally hit the dam, and broke it. “W-Why?” Your voice wavered and mixed into a sob, your hands tightened holding onto him, fingers threatening to dig deeper as you let your head rest against him, tears tickling your skin. “I am so tired… So tired, Si. I hate you…”

“Do you want me to leave?” His hold tightened despite his words.

“No.” Your words came out a bit more forcefully than you had intended, too anxious to let him go. You felt his right hand leaving your back, a soft whimper leaving your lips once you felt his lips, bare and real, pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, soon realising that he had taken his mask off. Too shy and messy in tears, you made no effort to look up at him and instead continued to cry, emotions desperate to keep pouring out and leave the imprisonment of your body. His hand continued to rub the back of your head while his other held your lower back, both of you unknowingly taking a few steps back and forth together, unable to stay still. It was as if you both were dancing slowly, like lovers.

“Alright. Hand me the keys, love.” You tentatively grabbed your keys from where you had kept it and handed it to him, your hands quickly latching onto him again. He carefully unlocked the front door of your apartment and led you inside, being extra cautious so he doesn’t accidentally step onto your feet. Closing the door by kicking it gently with one leg, he gently guided you towards the living room, easing you down onto the couch.

“Do you remember that creepy guy that came into the cafe?” Your voice was still shaky from crying, eyes all glossy as you finally looked at him, heart skipping a beat. Despite already having seen his face the last time, you still weren't used to it. Were you blessed?

He silently nodded and took a seat beside you, his arms leaving your sides so his large hands could cradle your face, thumbs tenderly wiping the drying up tears away while you talked, eyes looking everywhere but at him due to the sudden proximity. He didn't mind it at all, simply adored your sudden sheepishness.

“I still get scared at the thought of him… I don't want anyone like that to visit the cafe again. I-I don't think I can handle it.” Your voice gradually got quieter by the end, nibbling on your bottom lip. Oh, dear. Simon hadn’t told you that he had already beat that creep up. Now he somewhat wished that he had killed him instead. Surely Price would back him up if he made up some reason, yeah?

Your shoulders visibly eased up at that, your mind clearing a bit. Probably sobering up? You were sure that you weren't going to pick up a bottle of alcohol after this. Leaning into him, you decided to rest your head on his chest and listen to his heartbeat. Expecting a soft, calm rhythm — you were instead met with a fast thump, your brows furrowing though you decided not to comment on it.

“He wouldn't. No one will ever treat you like that again, love.” As long as I am here. Possessive yet guilty. He was vaguely promising to be by your side while always avoiding you, protecting you from himself. From the ugliness within him. No angel must spare a glance at a stray, especially not one used to violence.

His hands were playing with the fabric of your shirt now, mindlessly toying with it, feeling the texture under his skin as he gently tugged onto it. It felt oddly comforting, both of you not mentioning what happened outside the apartment a few minutes ago.

You looked up at him again, your eyes falling onto his lips this time. A bit chapped with a small scar adorning the side of his upper lip. You couldn't help but smile at the sight, leaning forward to place a bashful kiss on top of it. Simon let out a soft grumble at that, tilting his head to the side so he could kiss your lips properly, eyes fluttering shut alongside yours. He could taste some hints of your salty tears, his hands holding your waist while your hands held the back of his neck, letting his lips devour yours.

He held onto you gently, not wanting to be tight despite every fiber within him wanting to hold you fully against him once more, like a hound too eager to please.

Once he pulled away from the kiss, his heart skipped at the sight of your lips being all glossy. Ethereal. Your lips twitched into a giddy smile, and he could swear that he felt the heat radiating off you once it crept up onto your face. It felt soft, everything felt too soft and warm. The gentleness threatened to suffocate him once more, a mocking reminder of him being undeserving of such tranquility. He was supposed to be wed to the war, to violence. To the bloodshed that haunted his dreams. Not whatever this was.

But he refused to get up, not wanting to see any more of your tears. “We have to get you to bed. You need sleep.” He spoke quietly, a soft sigh leaving his lips once he felt your forehead pressing against his, letting you lean into him.

“Will you join me?” You normally would have never asked something like that, but the way he was holding you almost made you believe that he was willing to warm up a bit more with you.

Simon frowned at that, pulling his head back slightly. “We can't, you're drunk.”

Realising that he misunderstood you, blood rushed to your cheeks and you looked away in embarrassment, your voice getting timid. “No… I meant sleeping together. Nothing else.”

He paused, eyes softening up as the implication dawned on him. Sleeping together. Innocently domestic — something you both had never touched. He wanted to reject, to say that it’d be better for him to just leave. That could have been the better option anyways. Though he couldn't bring himself to refuse you, too enamoured, as if trapped in some spell by you.

“Fine.” He clicked his tongue in a poor attempt to appear reluctant, masking his inner eagerness. Helping you off the couch, he led you towards the bathroom first, opening the tap. “Let's wash your face first, yeah?”

He did everything — getting you in comfortable pajamas once he finished helping you clean up, even helping you in preparing the bed. Everything. It made you feel as if you were cared for, as if he was the warmth you had ached for throughout your life. The felicity had long spreaded within you once you laid down on bed, watching him lay down beside you.

He was tense, visibly so. You tentatively scooted towards him, a hand reaching out to settle onto his chest, to feel his heartbeat once again. Maybe in this way, you could sync your heart with his, build your own little bubble. Or was that too much to hope for?

“Thank you…” It just slipped out of your mouth like a soft prayer — a hidden whisper to be close to him so more.

“S'nothing.” His eyes looked over at you, taking in the contentment etched onto your face. He wanted to wrap his arms around you and hold you against him, to let you melt in his embrace while you slept. No. That's too much, that's crossing a line. A line made up in his head.

You're building your own grave, Simon. He despised his own mind for mocking him like this, for littering his head with unwanted thoughts. Just one night.

“Sleep now, love.” He whispered quietly, watching you reach over to turn the lamp off. You shuffled besides him again, letting the blanket cover you up.

Simon doesn’t remember the last time he had slept so nicely, your soft breathing his lullaby.

Upon waking up alone on your bed, a heavy feeling of dread settled on you alongside a throbbint headache. Had he left? Wasn't it just getting better?

Holding your heart together from cracking it with every strength you had, you tried to take a few deep breaths. Don’t panic, don't-

The sudden clinking sound from outside your bedroom made you jolt, and only now could you notice the pleasant aroma of something cooking. Sheepishly, you slid off the bed and tiptoed over to the door, poking your head out to look around. Able to make out some of Simon's figure through the open door of the kitchen, relief flooded deep within you. He's here.

“Good morning, Si…” You greeted him once you entered the kitchen, standing besides him, rubbing the weariness off your eyes. He gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement, focusing on cooking some breakfast.

“Your whole kitchen needs some restocking.” He mumbled, sparing a small glance over at you. You stayed quiet, a bit embarrassed by his observance. You were planning on restocking it soon, anyways.

The morning went by like a pleasant breeze, your mood ever so joyous today. You felt light, as if floating on the clouds and reaching the stars, as if becoming one of them, alongside Simon. He hadn't mentioned much about last night at all, even gave you some pills and an offer for a head massage. You had declined it, mostly because you didn't want to show how greatly affected you were by the subtle signs of care laced in his actions, despite it being already evident all over you.

You didn't know what had driven you to act in the way you did in the afternoon. Maybe you shouldn't have opened your mouth, just kept it shut and complied.

“Si, I um… I want to talk to you about something.” You paused the monotonous movie literally none of you were actually focusing on, turning over the couch to face him, your fingers tightly curled on your lap, digging into your flesh.

Maybe it was just your heart acting out, feeling as if things had changed. Foolishly clinging onto the thin strong of hope, never learning. Never learning that touching stray dogs was bad, they had fleas. Fleas that had already infected you, threatening to devour you.

“I think… Uh- I was wondering- I just-” Fumbling over your words, all you could hear was the loud beating of your own heart, each nerve of yours set on fire. Anxious, too anxious. You wanted to throw up. “I wanted to tell you that I really… like you, and-” Your words drowned into heavy silence once you took note of just how silent Simon was, how he was frowning.

A fool. A fool who dreamt too much, who was too lost amidst the heavenly clouds of tranquility. A fool who did everything to avoid reality — that's what you felt like.

“No.” His reply was rather abrupt, clear. The subtle smile on your lips fell, and Simon wished to do nothing more than drown into a river. “You don't like me.”

“I-I do!” Unbelievable, did he not believe that you like him? Even love him.

“You shouldn't.” That came out more roughly than he had intended to, a little snarl escaping his throat. “We've already discussed it, this is nothing.’

You should have shut up at that, should have somehow sewed your lips together and quieted down. You couldn't, instead growing more agitated, more on edge. “You can't say that, Si! D-Don't you see whatever it is that we're doing?” You whimpered in exasperation, trying to keep your voice from trembling, miserably failing. “I care for you! I do, and you care for me too. I can see it…” Vision progressively growing blurrier with incoming tears, you looked away and tried to ignore the sting in your eyes, your breath shuddering. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Simon was at a loss of words himself, his heart aching to kiss your tears away and plead for forgiveness. He was a cruel, cruel man. Cruel for being so terrified, cruel for being so persistent.

O Angel, forgive me for I can't let you love me, for light should never kiss the shadow.

“You shouldn't…” He repeated his words again, his voice quieter, weaker. A plea, a request. You shook your head, a sob erupting from your throat as you tried to reach out for him.

He pulled away just as quick, your hand never meeting his. An ocean that could never touch the moon, a man that could never touch a star.

“I need to leave.” Hastily he turned around and walked out of your apartment, leaving you speechless, hand still shamefully held out. Frozen and alone, unloved.

Simon Riley was a coward.

Simon had lost count of how many bottles he had drank by now. Feeling horribly, horribly similar to his father. A drunkard, disgusting. He thought the alcohol could wash his emotions away, drown them hopefully — all it did was make him even more vulnerable, his glossy eyes staring off at a distance.

Weak. Ironically enough, this brute was nothing but weak. Everyone should be laughing at him, you should be laughing at him. Laugh at him for not knowing how to love properly, for being so quick to run away.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his phone ringing, making him click his tongue in irritation that soon melted away once he noticed the caller ID.

Price.

He picked it up and listened to his captain's words, each syllable both a stab and a blessing.

A deployment again, finally.

notes — i apologise for uploading it after A WHOLE MONTH. blaming it on the writerphew, a deployment! this could mean many things. also a heads up that either chapter 6 or chapter 7 will be the last one (made some changes to my plan!)

[mavuikas-wife]

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆Yandere Sunday˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Part 2 of this fic

Warning:controlling behavior, threatening, Sunday

Yandere Sunday, who calls you to his office when you are about to end your shift. You don't think anything of it first, assuming he is calling you to discuss some matters regarding the upcoming charmony festival. As you were heading to his office, you noticed that the dwelight pavilion seemed a lot emptier than usual, yet you can't help but feel like you're being watched....

Yandere Sunday, who is camly standing in front of the miniature golden hour sand pit with one hand on the back and the other elegantly at his side.

Yandere Sunday, who looks up to you when you open the door and greets with a smile on his face.

After seeing Sunday's gentle smile, you relax a bit. Maybe you were being paranoid, and this is just a normal meeting....oh, how wrong were you

"Take a seat, dear." Sunday's gentle voice lures you towards the chair as he sits across from you with his legs crossed and taping his fingers on some files. "Do you know what are in these files dove? Take a guess. " Sunday asks as his gloved fingers trace the edges. ".....um.. I am not sure perhaps reports from the alfalfa family?" You responded, trying to remember what else is left to do for the charmony festival."Hmm,... incorrect, you see, we got reports from the bloodhounds family about a storeaway. " Your heart thumps loudly at the revelation,"and from the looks of it, you also have something to do with it, correct?" You try to act oblivious, trying hard not to incor the calm man's wrath. "Me? w-what would I have to do with the bloodhound family, much less a storeaway? Are you trying to imply that I brought a storeaway inside the dreamscape? Surely you jest Mr Sunday...." You let out a laugh trying to cover your nervousness. "Oh, but I am not. You see, the hounds have reported to me that you have been spotted with this man on many occasions and have been actively hiding him from the family. " Sunday gives you an eerie smile as he walks up to you, and his fingers lift up your head."Who knows what would happen if everyone in the family knew about this.... I may be forgiving, but I can not lie to the dreammaster now, can I." Your eyes dart around frantically, and your hands fiddle with the ends of your top as you think of a way to escape this situation."Mr. Sunday I- I will do anything, but please don't let any harm come to him, please. " Sunday's smile grows even wider if that's even possible."Anything, you say," " Yes, anything," your response doesn't seem to surprise him as if it was what he was planning for in the first place. "Then listen closely, my dear, for the harmonious Aeon have not shown you mercy today, but I have." At this point, you have your hands joined together as you look up to at mercy."Then I shall tell you what to do my dove..." Both his hands cup your face."You shall start a new life as my one and only wife." At this revelation, you stand up startled "w-what" Sunday's smile, not wavering a bit at your actions."What's wrong dear, you said you do anything, right? Don't tell me you're backing out now," you watch him still prossing his words. "Don't worry dear, I would never force you after all you still have a choice. You could say no to my offer, but your lover would would face the precautions, or you could join me, and nothing would happen him no one would press charges against him and you would never meet him again but he will be safe..." You clench your fist and bite your inner cheeks to the point it almost bleeds. ".....fine do what you want, but don't forget that I will never love you the way you want me to," you replied as you looked at him in anger. "Only time will tell my dear I certain that you would change your mind in the near future." His voice was all that you could hear as he caged you in his arms....

Yandere Sunday, who meets your family as your new lover and gets their blessings for marriage. Your family, who never thought you bag the representative of the family, the most handsome man in penacony, of course, they would say yes for the marriage this Sunday, the most respected man in penacony who in the right mind would say no?

Yandere Sunday, who also informs his sister Robin about his lover and about getting married. Of course he left a few details behind there is no harm in white lies is there?

Yandere Sunday, who plans the entire wedding along with the invitations and sends them to all the family members and penacony after all this is a grand celebration

Yandere Sunday, who spends a lot of money and time to make sure that your weeding dress matches his perfectly and the overall theme.

Yandere Sunday, who threatens tells you not ruin his image in public or else the people closest to would get hurt

Yandere Sunday, who makes sure everybody in penacony no in this universe knows that you are his beautiful wife♡

[psiioniichearts]

Red Death (Créme Brulee & Red Velvet Prince AU)

[ Part of a Cookie Run Kingdom Prince AU with Créme Brulee and Red Velvet by @cupcakestreets (part one & part two), go read those first to get an idea of the surrounding plot. Wanted to write a little thingy about the outside view in. Btw Cake if you see this not sorry I'm forcefully making your cast bigger by inserting these two LMAO ]

"Truly, your inability to read the room continues to astound me, Madeleine."

The knight in question gaped openly at the sardonic accusation, comically shaking his head like a hound before puffing his chest up indignantly, both of which Espresso found profoundly unimpressive and rolled his eyes at. He returned to his attention to much more deserving matters—namely, picking ingredients for his alchemic mixes from the Créme Kingdom's surprisingly sundry garden. While the selection was meager compared to other kingdom's gardens, he found the gardener Herb exceptional at maintaining the plants, yielding the best results in his concoctions.

A little fieldwork never halted his pursuits as a royal alchemist, though venturing out here did mean he ran the risk of being accosted by a particular nuisance with the name of Sir Madeleine, a devote paladin from another neighboring kingdom who nonetheless defied every expectation of knightly stoicism by being obnoxiously loud and optimistic...two traits he was showing off excessively at the moment.

Espresso reiterated wryly, seeing no way to escape this unfortunate interaction, "I suppose I should know better than to expect you to understand this, but it was an arranged marriage. They are not in love, and I believe it would be in your best interest to avoid saying that aloud. Others may not be as forgiving as I was to correct you."

"If that was your show of mercy, I fear the one deserving of your wrath," Madeleine said, face pulled into a pout. He was never one to remain dower, but he continued, "Well, I'll admit to my error in believing it was purely a romantic pursuit. Although, I did spy the foreign prince and His Highness in this very garden earlier, and they seemed to be getting along nicely! Indeed Espresso, is it so impossible to believe they might find content with each other?"

"Yes, it is," retorted Espresso, peeling off a glove to massage between his brows before scowling up at the paladin from his crouched position, "You cannot possibly tell me you are unaware of the unsavory reputation Prince Red Velvet and his kingdom possess."

"No, I am aware," he replied, becoming uncharacteristically serious as his smiling face pulled into a slight frown. He glanced around, perhaps to check if they were truly alone, before looking back down at the alchemist to add, "It would be dishonorable of me to speak....poorly of His Highness Prince Créme Brulee's fiancé upon his land, however..."

"'However' nothing, Madeleine." Espresso stood, not quite satisfied with the amount of material he'd collected but unwilling to continue this conversation with the other; and too perhaps being a tad concerned there were unwanted eavesdroppers. He moved to stand at the knight's shoulder, and under the pretense of wrapping his ingredients in cloth, asked in a subdued tone, "What do you know about the prince?"

"Not as much as I would like considering he is betrothed to the heir of the Créme Kingdom," answered Madeleine, who thankfully picked up the tone of the conversation by now and had also quieted himself. "As you know, I travel far afield as a paladin, and everything I have heard about the kingdom he hails from is...not good, to say the least. I will not go as far as to say it shakes my faith in this kingdom, but to have His Highness marrying Prince Red Velvet-..."

"It does not seem like anything yet," Espresso indirectly corrected, "It's too early to see the signs, but I know this pattern. That kingdom, his kind...they are like a disease that spreads without symptoms. Hopping from place to place like an illness infiltrates a community, eventually, everything and everyone here will be ripped up by their roots, revealing their sinister nature and the infection within."

"By then, it'll be far too late for a cure, and it starts with this marriage to Prince Créme Brulee. I cannot imagine, even at the shallow attempts to make it seem they are 'getting along' as you say, that it is not reflective of the impending disaster."

"..." Madeleine's frown deepened, brow furrowing as he thought. Inwardly, Espresso wondered where this silent, pensive attitude was earlier when he was trying to harvest in peace.

Coming out of he reverie, he stated firmly, "You are welcome to criticize me for this, however I would believe his Highness can inspire a change in Prince Red Velvet. I have spoken with him on occasion, and I can say with confidence that he is not as passive and fragile as he seems. Rather, he has a remarkable ability to sway the souls of others, through his words and his music."

"In fact, I will criticize you for that one," grumbled Espresso, instantly growing exhausted with the other's persistent attempts of salvaging this dire situation, "Don't you understand? The Velvet Kingdom has proved time and time again they will never change. They only know violence, and they will wring out this kingdom just as they've done so many others."

"Ah, but I meant the prince," Madeleine countered, this time the one to indirectly correct what Espresso was implying. "Kingdoms and succession may be built upon smoke and mirrors, royal illusions of possessing virtues that fail to deliver when asked to make a show of it, but individuals are different. They are always capable of change, and can deem to surprise you in the most devastating ways."

"Hmph," was all the response he received. Madeleine laughed, shaking his head again, but unlike his usual booming laughter, it rang hollow and distorted like an altered church bell. It was enough to warrant Espresso's specific attention, and he faced the other fully to examine his expression.

He found a careful facsimile of confidence, a painted mural depicting the might of ancient dragons that could be washed away with mere rain. Madeleine, in all his pride, wore a lopsided smile strained at the edges, a tremulous bridge over an abyss of despair as he stared into the peaceful calm of the garden. His faith allowed him to believe in what was undefinable, and he extended it even now to the unprovable: that Red Velvet could change.

But the implication of failure, the weight of the future should he be proven wrong, settled heavily on his shoulders. Espresso felt it too, strangely resigned and sympathetic in that moment to know even the most well-believing man he could think would know to doubt.

"...Come, let me walk you to the gate," he stated unexpectedly, shaking Espresso a bit. He nodded wordlessly, still unmoored, feeling like he was bracing for an inevitable storm.

Just as they were to step out of the garden, Madeleine added, with a grim sense of finality: "You know, it was...fascinating that you described them as a disease. Of all the fearful titles given to their prince...I found the most appropriate one to be 'Red Death'."

.

.

.

.

Left alone behind a dividing wall of green, a sole witness as a silent songbird in a crystalline cage, the Prince Créme Brulee finally sings. And he weeps.

[coolgirl32]

VAMPIRE Vander x village woman reader

A/n: so I want to know what you all think about this and don't be afraid to give me your honest opinions about it to be honest I always saw Vander as a werewolf type of guy cuz you know hound of the underground he get it and I always saw silco as a vampire type of guy because well you know he's pale he's alluring and it just fits him so well you know so anyway enjoy this and my requests are still open if anybody is interested in requesting what they want me to write next.

As a little girl you were always warned never to go near the big castle that was across the creepy woods that was surrounding your village your father the chief of the village it was old and wise but very paranoid and overprotective of you because you were his only daughter and your seven Brothers weren't helping either they were very protective too you were there only sister your mother died after giving birth to you so you never met her so of course what led you to this point was that you were going out to get some fresh fruits and berries and some firewood so it'd be good for this winter of course you had no idea you were being chased by wolves a pack of wolves most likely when you manage to escape from the wolves you were in front of a gate of an old castle and you had no choice but to get inside of the castle through the gate and hope for the best.

You had no idea that the inside of the castle looked this cozy and so fancy you couldn't believe your own eyes when you heard a wush sound you thought it was some bats but when you bumped into something by accident you looked up to see a dashing handsome man, he looked very handsome like a count or a Duke or maybe a lord and when you realized you went to his home rudely and didn't even ask to come in you immediately apologize to the man.

I am so sorry please forgive me for intruding on your own lovely home sir it's just that I came from the cold dark Forest and I was being chased by these pack of hungry wolves (animal fact wolves don't really do that they're more likely to just stay away from humans because they are actually interested in eating animals instead of humans unless they are very desperate) and I hope I'm not bothering you but may I stay here just for the night until it's morning and everything is clear again my apologies.

No worries ma'am you can stay here just until the morning let me take your coat and let me introduce myself I am Vander and who might you be my dear?

I'm y/n Vander and thank you for letting me stay here just for the night if there's anything I can do to repay you I could just-

Oh no you're fine your company is all I ask for just for the night and might I say you are a site sore eyes how is it that I have never seen you before?

You really wanted to tell him about the village you lived in but you remembered your father and brothers telling you never to tell strangers where you live especially strangers you just met so of course you made up a little white lie just in case he tries to follow you, you hope it doesn't hurt his feelings

Well I live a few towns away it's very far and well you see it's only a few days away where I live

Oh my your feet must be hurting please why don't you go take a bath I'll bring you some new clothes and I'll prepare a meal for you, you just rest

After You took your bath, you got dry, you did your hair and you put on your new clothes and when you looked at the full body mirror you were amazed at how beautiful the gown was it was nothing you have ever seen before in your whole entire life you were used to wearing the old rags your father made but you're grateful nonetheless.

After you and Vander had your dinner and you had a wonderful conversation with each other getting to know each other very well and getting to know his backstory and him getting to know you a little you felt a little sleepy and you decided to call it a night.

The next morning he woke up got dressed and headed back to your village unbeknownst to you, you had no idea that you were being followed you had a feeling that you were being followed but you didn't pay any mind to it when you got back to your village your brothers and your father were all worried of course you were grounded for a week for scaring them like that but at least you were home.

A week later after you got ungrounded your father told your brothers to watch over you that meant keeping an eye on you and making sure you didn't get lost or captured or run off somewhere however though something fast headed your way you close your eyes when you thought it was going to hit you but when you open your eyes the horror struck you your brothers all seven of them were dead their organs were ripped out of their stomachs and you can see their eyes closing you begin to cry that's when you felt a cold embrace when you looked up you saw it was the man you saw a few weeks ago Vander with blood on his mouth and blood on his hands what he said to you was shocking.

Hello dear or should I say hello bride you'll be coming with me I knew from the moment I saw you you'd be mine so let's not dilly dally now.

You couldn't believe it you were being kidnapped by a vampire and what's worse he turned you into one you didn't notice at first until you remembered the wine he gave you it was filled with his blood so you are now going to be stuck with him for the rest of your immortal Life never to see your father again or the village people that you grew up with and never get to see your brothers ever again knowing they are dead.

A/n: damn this turned out dark then i expected sorry about that folks I meant for it to be a little fluff but I guess I got carried away because of the whole vampire thing but man this turned out to be a little sad but if any of you are going to make a vampire Vander fanfic please make it a little fluff not so dark like the one I made but that's up to all of you if you want to or not I'm not forcing you into anything you are not comfortable with anyway have a good day everybody.

[edenisabellee]

must feral dogs starve?

an original poem by eden isabelle

tangled together between sheets, we’re a bundle of limbs—swarming with an all-too-familiar itch. my head’s snarling like a dog—

rabid, vicious,

cujo.

“it’s a killer. surely, you know this.”

it howls a grotesque cure-all— the lie i drink like water. i’m not sharp enough to leave my mark on anything. just dull fingertips, prying pathetically into your chest cavity, reaching, always reaching— maybe i’ll touch your heart. maybe it’ll make me real.

the creature never settles. it slips under my skin, a constant trilling that never quite fades, sliding into the places i thought were untouched.

insatiable, relentless. it lingers there, restless, desperate for a fleeting weakness— to wedge its foot in and reclaim its hold.

it sinks its teeth in tender places— my brain matter, my reflection, the soft of my throat. it growls when i think, howls when i’m still, rears its ugly head at the mere prospect of a warm, full belly.

it gnaws the edges of joy, chews memory into pulp; grinding sanctity between marrow. my cranium as its enclosure, it digs its way through, makes headway to the forefront, and bites into you.

tell me, do you not flinch when the hound bares its teeth?

it’s easier to flee. why make a home of my wreckage when you can just leave me be?

the hound snarls, “don’t let him in.”

this comfort cuts— a quiet dagger, a steel blade slipped into the hollow of me, a reminder: i don’t have to obey the hunger.

do i let this creature bloom? let it rise from infancy, a harmless pup turning ruthless— snarling, rabid, unchained?

i know what it will reclaim: the sick ache of solitude, the silence of starving.

you hold steady, despite the noise. perhaps you hear the same thing i do— the low growl at the back of my throat, the quiet thrum of fear beneath the calm.

but you don’t retreat. you draw me closer.

i curl towards you like something feral, tamed only by your stillness, one hand to my shoulder, the other in my hair—anchoring me to you.

and with each caress, each weighted grasp, every gentle plea, “just lay with me.”

the dog, too, obeys. it’s not gone—just still.

in the silence between its growls, i remember what it feels like to breathe without bleeding, to speak without regret, to stay when every urge screams to abandon ship— because you stay, keep me grounded, put my rabidity at bay.

deeper in the linens, the canine goes.

and my chilly heels make their way to the warmth of your toes. you shift just enough to let me in, just enough to say, “i see you.”

my ribs still echo with hunger songs, but your touch hums louder.

and in the steadiness of your breath against my neck, i find a rhythm that isn’t pain. with you, i don’t have to earn rest. it comes freely— like forgiveness, like breath.

perhaps tomorrow the dog will wake, snarling, hungry, starved;

but for now, though the animal may pace, it won’t get the bed— not tonight.

tonight, i must let sleeping dogs lie.

[starfire1657]

Blood of Zeus Season 3 Thoughts and Opinions - Part 2: Hephaestus's Death

Warning: Spoilers!

Alright, so as requested Hephaestus won the poll. So, let's get started. These are my thoughts on Hephaestus's death and overall involvement in the narrative of Blood of Zeus.

Disclaimer: This is just my honest opinions, and I appreciate if you guys don't hound me for my opinions. Please and thank you.

Also, if you haven't checked it out. Here is the first part of my Blood of Zeus thoughts category. Enjoy!

Blood Of Zeus Thoughts - Part 1: Ares's Death - https://www.tumblr.com/starfire1657/783136352325795840/blood-of-zeus-season-3-thoughts-part-1-aress?source=share

First off, here is the thing Hephaestus is one of the most UNDERRATED CHARACTERS IN THIS DARN SHOW! He was barely shown and when he was, he had such little screen time. However, he still ate up every moment when he was on screen. Hephaestus steadily became one of my favorite characters in this show. Making his death affect me like it did with Ares. It was unfair and completely unnecessary. Let's get into it.

First up is Hephaestus's death, well his FIRST death. Just like Ares, Hephaestus died in Blood of Zeus: Season 3, Episode 1. The reason was because he saved Aphrodite, from being crushed by Typhon's gigantic foot. LIKE BITCH YOU COULDN'T MOVE! (Sorry Aphrodite lovers, I like her too but seriously?!). His first death was bittersweet, due to the fact that he DIED, but he sacrificed himself for his EX-WIFE. That is a man right there, y'all I have a sixth Blood of Zeus husband. Man is a big green flag in this series.

Next up is his second death, just like in my Ares thoughts I will say it again. THIS WAS COMPLETELY UNNECESSARY! Just a recap after their deaths, Ares and Hephaestus are taken to the Underworld by the furies. Then they are TOSSED into the abyss by Chronos's bitch ass. (Sorry for my language, I don't usually cuss in my posts like this, forgive me). Then they were ERASED FROM EXISTENCE!!! Like WHAT?! As I said before this death was undeserved and a total overkill, literally.

The next thing I want to address is Hephaestus's remembrance. At the end of the show, to honor the lives that have fallen during this emotional wreck of a season. Zeus has constellations of Hephaestus, Ares, Persephone, and Heron edged in the stars. This honor that was given to Hephaestus was well deserved and LONG overdue. Especially, since this man has done so much behind the scenes in the show. Which makes his loss so much harder since when they really needed him. Hephaestus was already gone from the world. Plus, may I say it again. HE. GAVE. UP. HIS. OWN. LIFE. TO. SAVE. HIS. EX-WIFE'S!!! Even though it was tragic, his sacrifice was worth this great honor. Still would've liked him alive though.

Finally, I wished we had more of Hephaestus in this show. He was the blacksmith of the gods, and I wish that he was featured more. He was one of those characters that was pushed out of the way and placed in the background until the plot wanted him. AND EVEN THEN, THE PLOT SCREWED HIM OVER! Just like it did with Ares. The moment the man came in with a clutch, the showrunners/Netflix killed the man off, just to kill him off. Hephaestus just like Ares, to me, was another character that suffered from WASTED character potential. If only we had gotten, the five seasons of Blood of Zeus that was promised to us as the viewers. We would've seen more of this great, underrated, character.

If you read my Ares thoughts, this is the part where I will list off what I would've done differently with Hephaestus's character/story involvement. So, let's go:

When it comes to Hephaestus, I would've gotten him more involved in the story. Instead of having him just. . . There. You know?

I would've liked to see him interact more with his half siblings and his mother Hera to see their dynamic on screen. Let me see, the toxic relationship between Hera and him on screen. So, his death can be even worse towards Hera, and her guilt. Because one of my favorite parts in the season was when that cyclops clocked Hera's tea about her mistreatment towards Hephaestus in episode 6.

The only thing about Hephaestus's death I would've changed is. . . HE WOULDN'T HAVE DIED! Along with that, if he had to die and just HAD to be thrown into the abyss. I. WOULD. HAVE. MADE. A. WAY. FOR. HIM. TO. COME. BACK. As I said in my Ares rant, screw the writing and the rules.

I would've focused more on Aphrodite's thoughts towards Hephaestus sacrificing himself to save her sorry ass. Like I am sorry, but she (lore wise), treated Hephaestus bad in my opinion. Kindly correct me if wrong. However, I wanted to see more regret from her. Please and thank you.

Finally, if I did make him come back, he would've been treated better by his mom and his ex. Thank you!

In conclusion, Hephaestus was an underrated king, and it was really sad how he was treated by Netflix. He, like my first husband Ares, deserved better than this bull crap that Netflix did to him.

Alright that is the end of Hephaestus's rant. The person I plan to do next is Persephone's thoughts and Opinions. Poll is at the end.

[martialartslover7]

In defense of Sasuke Uchiha (Blank Period)

Another rant post of mine. Hoo boy.

Like, I don't know about you guys, but, honestly, Sasuke should have returned to the Leaf village, regurlarly, after the war. Not after months or years, and here is why: Sasuke may have chosen to leave the village and become a rogue ninja, but never forget...

...he is as much of a victim, as the rest of the entire Uchiha clan (safe for Madara and Obito), and the Leaf village, in the grand scheme of things. He was never the problem.

Remember, Sasuke wouldn't have even defected in the first place, had the Konoha elders not been such an ignorant and stubborn bunch, that is both stuck in the past, and unable to move on. Remaining bitter towards the Uchiha, until they get laid to rest in their coffins. ...Our totally trustworthy leaders, everyone! Would you still apply for a job with them, after what they had done to the Uchiha?

Here is a thing, if they were fine with the Uchiha getting sacrificed to "maintain peace" and wiping everything under the rug, too, where should we draw a line? Where does it stop? What other clan might have been next, had the Uchiha not been the ONLY ones to agree with a coup d'état? You really mean to tell me, neither of the clans, that had sensory abilities like the Hyuga, the Yamanaka, or even the Inuzuka, were ever made aware of this? This. Was. A. MASSACRE. This wasn't a spy operation, innocent civilians were slaughtered in the process, remember, not every Uchiha was even able to unlock their own Kekkei Genkai, so, the only logical conclusion is:

Either, Danzo might have blackmailed the other clans to shut their mouths about this incident, because, come on, NO ONE can tell me, the screams from men, women and infants, along with blood splatters, could have been missed so easily, I know the Uchiha were shoved into the very edge of the village, but what are the chances of this just getting ignored, just like that? Especially if you have the Byakugan, or you have a hound with you, like the Inuzuka?

The elders from each clan in Konoha were all in on this, as an orchestrated, planned event, choosing willingly to ignore it all, because hey, it's so convenient to just look away, when it doesn't concern your own clan, right?

This isn't the face of an "irredeemable piece of trash war criminal, who doesn't deserve forgiveness". This is the face of a man, who has seen and been told some shit, that cannot ever be unseen or unheard. Imagine being born into a world, where, the very second you drew breath, everyone hates you, just for existing, for things, you didn't even ask to be burdened with. Much less, when you were still a kid, too. And doing it in SECRET, no less. Dude. This doesn't take a genius to understand, how fucked right up this is.

Plus, am I the only one who finds it insanely shitty from either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi, to never make any efforts to publically criticize or oppose the elders for what they have done to the Uchiha clan? Wanting to bring the truth about the entire clan to light, and put the elders and feudal lords on the spot? Just for the fact alone, that they never once tackled this subject during the Blank Period, is, to me, a very shitty thing to do, especially since Naruto prides himself the loudest on having made Sasuke come back to his senses, and yet, never once, does he challenge these old farts? Really? Maybe I am missing something, feel free to correct me, but from my memory, neither he, or Kakashi, when he was still Hokage, made ANY efforts to publically apologize to the Uchiha clan, or even so much as trying to build memorial stones for the deceased Uchiha, or hell, even Itachi (I think?). And yes, I know, the clan was at the verge of starting a civil bar, but again:

NOT ALL OF THEM. WERE FINE. WITH IT. ESPECIALLY CONSIDERING, IT ALL MOSTLY STEMMED FROM MADARA BEING A SORE LOSER, AND TOBIRAMA BEING A RACIST PIECE OF GARBAGE. AND A HUGE PORTION OF THE UCHIHA WERE NOT EVEN ASSIGNED SHINOBI. PRAY TELL, KILLING EVERYONE, BECAUSE OF A FEW ROTTEN APPLES MAKES EVERYTHING OK THEN?!?!?!?!?!

And Kakashi bears Obito's Sharingan, he is living evidence too, of what public scrutiny and scapegoating can do to a person! His life, is essentially no different from either Naruto or Sasuke, and yet, despite having taught Sasuke, and still loving him as a teammate, no, as FAMILY, he NEVER ONCE HELPED HIM GETTING HIS NAME CLEARED?! What the FUCK, Kishimoto?

Also, can I be honest? I hate Boruto, as a follow-up story, for a different reason altogether. That being:

It STILL pretends as if the Uchiha are "evil, by default", and the elders are still, somehow, by some twisted "miracle", "in power", during Naruto's and Kakashi's rule. I mean, just for the fact, that these dried up twigs still have any say, WHATSOEVER, even the tiniest bit of presence in ANY capacity, after all the vile shit that they have pulled, by siding with Danzo, and making backhanded deals with other villages, is enough of a reason for me to more than sympathize with Sasuke's decision to never truly consider this village home, because WHY WOULD HE? These assholes ruined his life, way before he was even born, and yet these same jesters expect Sasuke to live in seclusion, and in shame, over what his heritage has done, but taking accountability for their own actions? Pffft, noooo, why would they? Their reputation as "village leaders" is more important than confronting their own shortcomings...

So, no, after the war, Sasuke should have been given some form of leniency, with either Naruto, Sakura or Kakashi having gone off to spread the word to other nations that what he did, cannot easily be pardoned, but they at least, THE BARE MINIMUM, deserve to know and understand, WHY he did all this. This. THIS course of action would have been a serious love letter to Sasuke, a sign of appreciation that, no matter where he went, he will always matter, even if he believes himself to be undeserving of it, because: It just isn't productive to be leaving an already scarred individual like him in the mold of "all Uchiha, bad", because that just won't work out. Paying for his wrongs is one thing, but putting him, for the rest of his life, along with his future descendants in the "square of shame", is just plain pathetic. Sasuke deserves to have some peace and quiet, too.

Moral of the story: DO NOT. LET HISTORY. REPEAT ITSELF.

Look, this post is not meant to excuse anything Sasuke has done, I am only providing more context that explains, why I feel like, the story was doing him dirty, especially near the end of Shippuden and during the Blank Period. You can think whatever you want about him, I don't care, all I am saying is, even someone like him deserves some well-deserved closure, because, that never happened. The stigma has not disappeared, and it wasn't Sasuke's doing, it was Madara's, don't get that confused. Besides, go on, keep ignoring the concept of "from action, follows a reaction", just so you can keep twisting and turning it, to always make Sasuke appear like the bad guy. Keep doing. You're doing great. In exposing how stupid and ignorant you are, frankly put.

Sasuke deserves to live in peace, he deserves to be happy, and not live in another illusion of supposed "peace", when really, nothing has changed, he deserves better. And look, we can judge Itachi all we want, but in the end, he still loved his brother, and that remains forever, all he did, was for him, as twisted as his method ended up being. It still ended up saving lives. No one else deserves to bear such a burden. Which makes it even more imperative to not wipe something as important as this under the rug, because "the truth is too unpleasant". Case closed.

PEACE.

[arceespinkgun]

Elita-1 and Lugnut from the Earth Wars Mobile Game

Pyra Magna: Elita... help us! The Prime Core's bleeding us dry of energy! Life support systems... failing...

Jumpstream: Get... us... out... of... here...

Lugnut: You have a choice, Elita-1. Fight me and maybe grab the Prime Core... Or save the Rust Renegades.

Elita-1: Looks to me like you've got the exact same choice, Lugnut - the Core or the Stunticons.

Lugnut: Ha! That's no choice at all. I would gladly give my life for Megatron and they should do no less. Farewell, Motormaster, you'll be remembered... As a footnote, maybe.

Motormaster: You... miserable... jumped-up... I'll- Unhhh...

Elita-1: Without the Core, Optimus Prime may die. But... he'd never forgive me... never! Not if others paid the price for his life!

Pyra Magna: H-Hurry... we're running on fumes here!

Lugnut: Tick, tock, Elita... Time's running out for your Rusty Regenades. While my eyes are on the prize!

Elita-1: Optimus... I'm sorry...

Lugnut: Haw! This is like taking cyber candy from a protoform! The Prime Core is mine... all mine! In the name of glorious Megatron, naturally!

Elita-1: Hang on, Rust Renegades - I'm coming. Tow cable away! I'm going to haul you clear of the danger zone... one at a time.

Motormaster: Lug... nut... come... back. Don't... leave... us...

Dead End: Too... late... boss. He's as good as gone. They... all... left us... to rust...

Motormaster: No! Never! I may be critically low on energy, but I got reserve tanks full'a rage! I'm... gettin' us out of here! An' when I do... they're all gonna pay! Lugnut and the Renegades!

Megatron: Lugnut - you have done well. I am pleased. Unlike some of my underlings... You do not fail me!

Starscream: Pah! Creep!

Megatron: Keep the Prime Core, Lugnut. You will be my... talisman. With you at my side, no force on Earth will lay me low again.

Lugnut: This... This is the most glorious day of my existence!

Elita-1: Optimus, I'm sorry, I... failed you.

Optimus: (shaking head) No, Elita. You remained true to the ideals we both hold dear. Thank you.

Jetfire: Optimus! I've been experimenting with the Prime Core that Hound recovered. When supplied with the energy signatures Elita-1 experienced on her mission...

Optimus: Short version, Jetfire.

Jetfire: Don't say your goodbyes just yet, Optimus. We have a cure!

...All I could picture at the end there when Elita-1 and Optimus were spouting the very Autobot duty, responsibility, sacrifice thing:

Also I firmly believe transformers can feel all emotions and I'm a shipper, but I kind of love Elita-1, Optimus, and Lugnut being seen as like... abnormal for their romantic feelings LMAO

[bernardellinewsagency]

“My philosophy forbids me to have faith in anything.”

“Really? So, I could not tempt you into believing in Xipe, or in Ena? Is only your precious Enigmata worthy of your devotion? In truth I should not find that so surprising, I suppose it’s not like a hound to follow two masters at once.”

“Ha! If you think even the Enigmata can be believed, then you really don’t understand a thing about it.”

“Silence, hound, I wasn’t finished. Of course the Enigmata cannot be trusted. And what does that make you, as one of THEIR servants? Certainly not trustworthy, that much has been proven true. Yet that is not the only reason as to why I don't quite believe the way you claim to be unable to have faith in anything. If I may offer my own perspective on the matter, it’s my belief that perhaps you simply have not yet found that which you may have faith in. And, if not the Aeons, I'd like to offer an alternative."

"Like I said, I can't follow anything you might offer me."

"Even if the offer is too good for you to pass up on? Even if what I'd like for you to worship... is me?"

"You? You're insane, birdie."

"Within the Dreamscapes, I am akin to a god. And you, the mendacious sinner. Should it not be the role of the sinner to appeal to those above him for leniency and forgiveness? Have some faith in me, Gallagher, and unlike your Aeon perhaps I can actually offer you salvation."

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Decisions

Pairing: Dark Ramsay Bolton x (female) Reader

SUMMARY: Lesson number 1: never trust Ramsay Bolton.

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

WARNINGS: Murder.

Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I was supposed to wait a bit before posting this, but I wanted to share so here it goes :)

--

“Choose.”

You stop breathing for a moment, eyes widening at the situation before you.

Both your mother and father shackled to their prison cells, the cruel treatment they have received obvious as their bodies are unhealthily skinny, their faces hollow while blood and fluids stick to their torn clothes.

You can hardly recognize them as your noble parents. 

Ramsay wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder and a mocking tone inflecting as he speaks.

“Go on, tell me your decision. Which one is the unlucky parent?”

“Ramsay, please…don’t make me do this.” 

His hand jumps to your throat, turning you towards him. An amused expression covering his face.

“As much as I’m having fun, love, my patience is starting to run thin. So you can either choose one or I’ll be the one deciding which one of my beloved in-laws will be joining my parents in the high heavens.” his lips open into a large grin, madness reflected in his eyes. 

Dropping your eyes to the floor, you twist your hands in an array of anxiety and despair.

“My father.” your voice is barely a whisper, a stray tear escaping your eye at the life-haunting decision you just made. 

“Aha, I knew it!” Ramsay claps his hands in delight, the pleas and cries of your parents breaking your heart.

“Forgive me, father-in-law, but it seems like your time here has ended. It was genuinely nice knowing you, if I may say. The same for you, my lady.”

At the sound of his hounds being released, you turn around only to realize how much of a mistake it was.

Your mouth drops in horror as the ear-piercing screams of father alongside your mother fill the dungeon, but it doesn't compare to the shock of seeing the hounds ripping the flesh of both your father and your mother.

"No, no! Ramsay, no, you promised me… I did chose…” you grab his arm, pleading.

“My sweet little wife, so trusting.” he caresses your cheek, index finger touching your quivering bottom lip and he leans forward, pressing a light kiss to your lips.

“You should’ve known by now that I’m not a man of my word, am I?”

[aladaylessecondblog]

Red Mountain Waffle House, pt. 30

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55071724/chapters/161301199

Author's note: NSFT consensual non-consent. Nerevar is getting RAILED.

----------------------------

"He's coming down the hall, turn off your phone."

"Turn it off, the video just loaded!"

"Not off off you idiot!"

The first ordinator obeyed, and he and the other stood to attention as Vivec passed by.

"My lord." He said stiffly. "Nothing to report."

"Good. Peace may have been brokered, but as your order is so fond of saying..."

"...justice never sleeps." He gave the end of his spear a tap against the ground.

He was incredibly glad the helmet covered his face, because he just KNEW his expression would give it away in a second.

Vivec passed on, and only when he rounded the corner did the ordinator bring his phone back out.

"Damn it all, now it has to reload..."

-----------------------

[INT. RED MOUNTAIN. DAY.]

Nerevar strode into the room with confidence. His limbs ached, but he had fought his way here and won every battle - so there was no reason to think that he wouldn't be able to win this one as well.

At the end of the room, facing away, was his opponent.

"Dagoth Ur," he said, "We meet at last."

"So the Temple sends their latest pawn." Dagoth Ur turned around, and his gaze swept over Nerevar's form. "At least they send one of fit body. The last one they sent was a scout who was useful for little more than being food for my nix-hounds."

"I am the champion of the Temple, and every champion must be well-schooled in the arts of war." There was a pause. "Saint Nerevar does not fall, to any opponent."

There was a dark chuckle then.

"So they send me Saint Nerevar himself? Perhaps they think I will be weak and fall before you, for the memory of all that was between us before."

Nerevar raised his sword, and Dagoth Ur his hands.

What followed was a glorious fight scene that would end up chopped out of the movie and splashed all over the place. Nerevar had shield spells to defend himself from the blasts of fire and ice shot at him, and would make blows of his own that had Dagoth Ur bleeding heavily for a bit.

But Nerevar at one point backed away, breathing heavily. His strength was waning, and he made as if to cast a spell.

Nothing happened.

"What a fool you are," Dagoth Ur said, "Trying to run away from this fight you have no hope of winning?"

"Retreating, and regrouping," Nerevar replied with a snarl, "It is not a fault to know when one must..."

"When one must flee his god's wrath?"

"You are no god...and certainly not mine."

"Oh, Nerevar..." He chuckled darkly, "I am your god, you merely have yet to know it."

He rushed forward, and Nerevar stepped back, thinking to dodge in one direction, perhaps trip his opponent. But he was the one to trip, and land flat on his back.

Dagoth Ur was on him in an instant with a paralysis spell - a curious one, that left his lips free to speak.

"Do your worst," he said, "Slay me, however you will, but remember that the Temple does not forgive."

"The Temple is far away. But you...oh, you, sweet Nerevar, you are here, and what I want is not the end of your life."

"Then--then what--do you think to make me one of your ash slaves?"

"No. I merely want to return you to what you were."

Nerevar was confused. That Dagoth Ur would cast aside his sword and shield, he expected. But to strip him of his gauntlets, his armor...

"Such beautiful gold skin you have." There was a pause, and then more noise as the armor was tossed as well and he was stripped of all but his loincloth. "Nothing has been changed, and for that I am quite grateful."

"What are you--"

Hands on his neck, his now bare chest, his sides, and then his hips. Those long fingers toyed with the waistband of his loincloth, and he tensed.

"I do have to check that they have not ruined you, you understand," Dagoth Ur went on as he slid. "There were things about you I have missed..."

"No--no--"

The loincloth was removed, exposing a half hard cock that was promptly stroked.

"Yes, quite satisfactory..."

"Stop--stop--I am telling you to STOP--"

Dagoth Ur only chuckled again, and took a firm grip on Nerevar's cock--and left him gasping.

"You are exactly what I remember you to be."

"And--and how is that--what is that supposed to mean?"

"Reluctant, shy...oh, you play the game so nicely." Dagoth Ur leaned down, now unmasked, and kissed up Nerevar's jawline. "But you always yield in the end."

"I am not going to yield--to you--devil--" Nerevar's words were broken by the strokes at his cock, the bolts of pleasure shooting through his body. Dagoth Ur was seeing more than Nerevar initially thought he could. "Fuck..."

"Mmm, profanity. Now I know you are mine." Another laugh. "But of course, I have to ensure that the Temple sees you are mine...in all ways, but particularly in body."

He bit and then sucked at several spots on Nerevar's neck, leaving marks that would color shortly afterwards.

"But I can't stop there, of course."

The stroking at his cock intensified, and he gasped again, glad he couldn't buck his hips. He was ashamed to think that he WOULD have done it, had he been able.

But then Dagoth Ur's fingers slipped a little low, and on noting a certain dampness, he laughed again.

"Oh? It seems I have excited you."

"Monster," Nerevar accused, "Depraved...devil..."

"Mmm, no, but perhaps...if you are so insistent that I am one, I should oblige." Those fingers probed at his cunt and then pressed forward, inside him, forcing a moan from Nerevar's lips. Then they began to thrust, "And I--never--disappoint."

"No. No. Can't...can't...mmph..." This was even more effective than the stroking of his cock, and he could do nothing but lay there and take it. "Is this all I am to you? Something to be touched and toyed with?"

"You want more?" The grin turned devilish, and the hand was drawn back, slick with his arousal. "Foolish question."

Dagoth Ur moved back, and Nerevar couldn't see him for a handful of seconds. There was the sound of fabric over flesh, and then a touch against his thigh.

"No--" he forced out. "No--I don't--you won't--"

"Oh, the hours I have imagined between your legs..."

A kiss at his thigh, before Dagoth Ur moved back up. "But I have hungered for you for far too long to wait any longer. I will have my golden prize, and you will name yourself as mine before this is over."

"You're--sick," Nerevar panicked as that smirking face moved over him. His knees were brought up, and then spread.

"No, merely wanting." Down he went, planting those lips on Nerevar's neck again. "You know...as good as you look on your back...I think I prefer you to be on your knees."

The paralysis spell was released, and a command spell used on him before he could say or do anything.

"Turn over, and get onto your hands and knees."

Nerevar's body obeyed automatically.

There was a moment of hesitation, a stroke of the skin of his back. A run of long fingers through his hair.

"Please--don't--I--"

Breath on the back of his neck.

"You beg so sweetly..."

Then a hand at his hip, a push forward--and suddenly, a deep moan was forced from his lips. It had been a long time since anyone had used his cunt - he preferred his cock when it came to falling into bed with anyone, so the stretch around the cock forcing itself inside him felt more intense than he imagined it to be.

The hand of Dagoth Ur's not at his hip moved up to his chest, tracing the lines of his scars. Then they began to push--and he was brought up, which only allowed the cock inside him to go deeper.

"No," he whimpered, "No, no, no..."

It was so deep, so deep, and he was fighting the urge to beg for more.

With his back pressed to Dagoth Ur's chest the thrusting finally began. It was easy enough to bite his tongue the first few times, but when he felt the tickle against his ear, and heard the words, "Do not stifle your sounds" he couldn't do anything except obey.

"Anhh...oh..."

"That's it," the dark voice purred. "You wanted to be spread around me, didn't you?"

Nerevar groaned.

"Answer." There was a sharp thrust, and Nerevar's reply came out more desperate than he expected.

"Ye-es!"

Gods, it felt so good, Nerevar thought. It shouldn't, he shouldn't feel this good, he shouldn't want it this badly, he KNEW IT. But he couldn't help it. It was as if Dagoth Ur knew every little thing that drove him wild.

The pace quickened, as did the moans from his lips.

"I wonder what the Temple would think to see you now." A smirk.

[NEREVAR'S HEAD IS TURNED; HE IS FORCED TO LOOK AT THE CAMERA]

"Let the Temple see its precious Saint and Hortator beg for the Sharmat's cock."

"No--" he whimpered, feeling climax rising. "No, no, no...I won't be--"

"Beg," Dagoth Ur's voice commanded. "I said BEG FOR IT!"

"Please," Nerevar struggled, tried to keep the words in, but they wouldn't be held back. "Please...give me your cock!"

He let a moan then, positively obscene.

"Let them see you," came the words, "Let them see how desperate you are."

The pace quickened again, and Nerevar's mind was all but blanked out now. Every movement was divine pleasure, and he couldn't find it in himself to care any longer whether or not he was held here. So long as it felt this good, he wanted it, wanted every second of the heaven between his legs.

Let them see...

He reached down, stroking at his own cock even as he was violated, over and over. He was a desperate man, he was, nothing more than--

"YES!"

Orgasm struck him suddenly, unexpectedly, and his cunt spasmed along with the rest of his body as ecstasy burst outward and filled the rest of his body.

"Oh, YES!"

His cock pulsed and spilled his seed onto the floor, and little whispers of scolding fell into his ear.

"What a mess you've made," Dagoth Ur's silky voice went, "Such shame you bring on yourself...but you couldn't help it, could you? My Nerevar was never able to stop himself, not in my capable hands."

The warm afterglow rose and then fell...and for a moment, he thought that was it, that it was over.

"Mine," came the darker tone, "You are mine, I will show you..."

A hand over his belly, and one at his hip.

"No," he said weakly, "W--you can't..."

"I can do as I please with what's mine, Saint Nerevar..."

Another deep thrust.

"Will the Temple take you back, when you're heavy with my seed?"

"No--"

"Perhaps I should send you back once you are, so they can see what I have made of you. So they can take one look at your swelled belly and know I was responsible for it?"

"No--not inside, please--please, you'll ruin me--"

"Ruin you? Oh, no...this is not ruin, it is salvation."

Faster, and then faster still. He was pushed back onto his knees and could hardly think straight with how fast he was being railed now, how hard he was being used. He put up a faint fight but there was in the end, no escape.

There was a groan in his ear, and then a hot trio of pulses inside him.

Then a feeling of emptiness as Dagoth Ur pulled back and withdrew from him - leaving him twitching, wet, full, and well-fucked.

Nerevar was commanded to turn over, lay back and spread his legs. The sight of seed pulsing out of his cunt seemed to please the blighted god before him.

"You will follow me," Dagoth Ur said, "And I will have you shackled, until you learn to submit more sweetly."

"I--I am not your plaything." He replied, looking up and shaking. "I am...not..."

"You are whatever I wish you to be. And right now, I wish you to be my prisoner."

[END SCENE. END OF PART 1.]

---------------------------------

Voryn at first hadn't been too enthusiastic about 'performing' but when Nerevar put forward the idea of doing it just to fuck with the Temple he was suddenly all for it.

There were better ways to show the Tribunal the error of their ways instead of outright killing them after all. That was too easy, too fast, and it was bloodier than necessary.

But showing their beloved Saint Nerevar, Hortator, Moon-and-star on the receiving end of the Sharmat's cock?

It was his name, after all. And if they insisted on making him part of their ridiculous religion then he would do everything possible to ensure they regretted it.

He was no saint.

The Hortator was gone. The Whoretator had risen.