#I just like when her hair is more of a true red as opposed to a realistic ginger

[gothamsfavecoterrorist]

I edited this art of Ivy and Harley to make Ivy's hair more Red (Its a varient cover for Poison Ivy #9 by Dan Mora)

my edit

original

[maddascanbe-blog]

Well hello there... Alright, I'll admit it. She's my favorite, in cannon and for the redesigns. Love Nathalie, ever since Bubbler. My friend thought I would change my mind later? Nope, it has always and will always be her.

Keeping with the monstrous theme for the miraculous villains meant keeping the blue skin tone. It probably looks like scales but if you look closer the stuff around her eyes and going up to her hair is actually meant to be small feathers.

Civilian Nathalie sticks pretty close to her cannon design but with a grey undershirt instead of red to make the streak in her hair the only pop of color. Fun fact, in cannon when Nathalie gets sick only the streak in her hair turns gray, meaning her natural hair color is bright red and the black is the dye job. I like to believe the same is true here so I warmed up her hair instead of the cool tones I used for Marinette (and Kagami later)

Catalyst and The Collector have the same color pallet and very blatantly go together, like hell I was gonna change that. Instead she just looks more refined as opposed to Gabriel's wild hair.

As for the rewrite, Nathalie is still in love with Gabriel. Honestly honey, you can do better. But her primary motivation is actually to help Adrien. She's raised him just as much, if not more, than his actual parents. And she sees how much it hurts him to see Gabriel pull away even more, and with Emelie just gone. And she is under the impression that Gabriel has the same motivation. Not realizing until its too late that his intentions are far more selfish than hers.

Actually because of that her transformation is less monstrous than Gabe's. While his entire head splits open, hers are superficial. Still painful, but the magic recognizes her potential for change and doesn't force her to suffer the way it does Gabriel. But unfortunately, the peacock miraculous is still damaged. And Nathalie is paying the price for her hopes.

[halfratsalready]

Lose Yourself Prequel One Shot Sneak Peek! 🥀

I’ve been fighting writer’s block for so long and haven’t written anything for you guys, so please accept this 600 word excerpt from the opening of the upcoming Jack-centered Lose Yourself series prequel one shot.

(The fic will feature a few moments from Jack’s childhood and his time on the streets as Rose before he met Wanderlust, filling in some of the blanks on how Jack ended up on the streets as Rose and answering some of the questions left unanswered regarding Jack’s backstory in the Lose Yourself series)

This excerpt is subject to change, considering this is an early draft, but I miss writing things for you guys so here we are.

⚠️ Content Warnings: blood & animal death (in the context of a nightmare)

Jack awoke on the morning of his eighth birthday with tears in his eyes. He was no stranger to nightmares- he'd been having them for as long as he could remember- but something about the one he'd had that night had been particularly frightening. Most of his nightmares were recurring ones, and though that didn't make them any less scary as they were happening, they were easier to calm down from upon waking up. Usually the dreams consisted of a strange, twisted version of himself appearing in place of his reflection or of his mother's throne room filled with water, creating an eery lake with an intensely enticing energy that somehow always managed to lure him in, calling for him to wade deeper and deeper into its waters until he drowned and woke up gasping for air. Those dreams were so common that it took him barely any time to calm himself down from them. This one, though, was new, and it had felt somehow even more real than the others did- even when the others felt almost impossibly real to begin with.

He had dreamt that his mother had finally given him the one thing he wanted most in the world for his birthday. For months, he'd been pestering her in an effort to convince her to get him a pet bird. His mother was opposed to the idea of pets, claiming that having him around was close enough already to having one in Swan Tower- always getting underfoot, taking up her time and money, and stubbornly refusing to obey her commands. But a bird, Jack insisted, while still taking up money, wouldn't get underfoot, and the time and attention that it took up would be Jack's own, not his mother's, and it would stay in its cage and sing pretty songs, and Jack would finally have a true friend. She hadn't dismissed the argument entirely, and he was beginning to think that he really did have a chance of getting a bird for his birthday. It was the only thing he had asked for, after all, when she asked what he wanted.

Waking up that morning, though, all of the excitement he'd had about it was gone, and he was suddenly terrified at the thought of getting a bird at all. When he'd gotten one in his dream, after all, a beautiful songbird with feathers as red as Jack's hair, something had felt horribly wrong. It sang, just like Jack wanted, but there was nothing sweet about its song. It sounded more like it was screaming, begging for something that Jack couldn't identify, and when he'd opened its cage to hold it, hoping that a little bit of affection might make it feel better- that was always what Jack wanted when he was upset- it slipped from his grasp, its feathers coated in something wet and sleek. It flapped its wings helplessly as it fell to the floor, but the flapping did nothing to keep the poor thing afloat, and Jack realized when he looked at his hand that the bird hadn't been red at all- it was soaked with blood, and now his hand was coated in it. Crying, Jack dropped to his knees and tried to pick up the poor thing, but it was too sleek with blood and it slipped from his hand every time. Eventually its screaming stopped, and Jack looked up to his mother in terror, meeting her eyes as she smiled in an uncharacteristically kind manner, and then he woke up in his own bed, tears in his eyes and streaming silently down his face.

[unnamed-blob]

How the cookie crumbles

⇢ Pairing: Ghostface | Jed Olsen/Meg Thomas

⇢ Length: Oneshot

⇢ Synopsis: Meg didn't start liking cookies until she started dating Jed. The notion persists to her time in the Fog.

⇢ A/N: Based off of slash's delicious JedMeg comic! I actually didn't plan to post this at first (don't consider it one of my best works), but there are more people sucked into the JedMeg niche hyperfixation than I expected- so, have at it lol

⇢ Background info: Jed Olsen and Meg Thomas were quite the adorable couple, what started as a convenient alibi (on Jed's side) turned into a genuine care for her and the coldblooded killer found himself smitten. However, Jed went missing one day, intentionally vanishing to allow himself to shed his civilian disguise and terrorize new victims. Meg though, remains worried about her missing boyfriend, constantly searching for new clues and terrified of what may have happened to him. Shortly thereafter, the two of them are dragged into the Fog by the Entity, Ghostface hiding his true identity, as Meg remains none the wiser.

Meg straightened her legs out in front of her, tilting her toes upward to stretch the aching muscles after a well done jog. She tilted sideways, free falling for a fraction of a second before she plopped against Jed’s side, wriggling to comfortably rest her head on his shoulder. She finally settled with a satisfied exhale, delightfully boneless against the photographer next to her as her gaze drifted upwards. The sky was washed in a flurry of colors, blooming pinks and vibrant reds, oranges swaddling the yellow sun as it began to peak over the rustling branches above. 

The redhead shifted her gaze upwards, resting it on Jed’s face as he focused intently on the camera held between his hands; a frown tugging his mouth downwards, a crease in his brows as he considered the gallery of photos with intent focus, a glint in his eyes and his chest puffing out when he’d come across one he was particularly proud of. A bright, pastel pink box nestled against his leg on the bench on his opposing side, the scent of warm and freshly baked cookies tickling at her nose. 

No matter how Meg would force a light hearted grimace at the sight of it, each time without fail, complaining about the calories she just burned off- it’d be smugly resting in his lap when she’d jog up to their meeting bench, the brunette flashing her a prideful smirk as she’d roll her eyes.

(And well, they were freshly baked, and he’d gone through such trouble, it’d be a waste not to after they were already here-)

She blinked, feeling her lips stretched into a grin, closing her eyes to nuzzle her nose into Jed’s jacket. It’d be comical to imagine how past her would have reacted, a nimble, red-headed runner with her hair tied in a high ponytail grimacing at the current sight. 

Her? Going for a nerd of all people? Jed surely wasn’t the most physically active of men and his slouched posture made Meg wince at the phantom ache. 

She’d been stubborn back then. Had found solace in running until she could barely gather enough air in her chest, until all she could hear and feel was her blood pounding in her head, where her problems couldn't snag their claws in or drill incessantly into the back of her head. She’d assumed only a fellow athlete could understand her in that aspect, could grasp her hand and walk hand in hand on the ground crumbling under her feet when Meg wanted to dart away. 

Yeah, she’d learned fairly quick jocks weren’t the best guys to go for. The last one had been an upperclassman with an ego large enough to fill the entire football field, and that relationship had ended promptly when Meg had slammed her knee into his crown jewels when he’d tried to wrestle her clothes off in the men's locker room. She’d left without a glance back and remained firmly, happily single. 

Meg blinked back to the present, gaze flashing upwards to Jed again as he jostled her, shifting in his seat as he cursed at the failed photograph and jammed his fingers on the buttons with more force than necessary. She snorted at his reaction, at the bared teeth on the usually oh so composed, dweeby journalist, that could hardly squash a bug without yelping in fear. He stilled, tilting his head to look down at her, raising a brow in question as he fought to keep the sour expression on his face. 

“I think you're the nicest guy I’ve ever dated,” Meg admitted, smiling up at him as she wormed her arm under his, curling like a koala around her hostaged appendage. Jed stared down at her silently. He blinked, lowering the camera to rest his elbows on his knees. 

“That’s sad.” He replied, brows wavering downwards to something between concern and pity. Meg barked out a laugh, throwing her head back as her shoulders shook. 

For all the mousy, nervous energy he gave off- shifting constantly, fingers twitching- he truly knew how to bite at times. Ah well, they do say not to judge a book by its cover.

⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡⪢⪡

There were no early mornings in the Fog, no nights or dusk or dawn either, but the habit remained ingrained in Meg and she found herself picking her way through the brambles and bushes while the chatter around the campfire faded into the distance. 

There were no stomped pathways, so Meg settled for a brisk walk, looping around logs and branches, taking any direction at random. She didn’t have to worry about getting lost or knowing how to pick her way back when she’d end up back at the campfire one way or another. The redhead paused to glance around, casting a look up at the tall, dark branches within the endless trees. 

There were no birdsong, no light that could filter through the constant cloudy sky, no chittering animals. The woods were too silent, and all Meg could hear was the dead leaves rustling under her feet. 

She straightened, brushing off the wrongness of it all and heading onwards. It’d be nice to find some way out of here through the woods- came the brief, indulgent thought- but things were never that easy, and the Entity would never release its playthings by such a simple means. She braced a palm to balance as she scrambled up a fallen tree trunk, faltering at the top at the sight of an open clearing. 

Meg blinked, squinting to make sure she wasn’t imagining it or it wouldn't vaporize into thin air in front of her eyes, a cruel mirage by the Entity. When it remained stubbornly in place, she cautiously hopped down, slowly stepping closer, pausing at every moment to eye her surroundings.

That was new. Despite her numerous walks within the woods- both as a warm up before the day of trials and to gather her thoughts at the end of the day (or after a particularly stressful round with a bone white, desolate, stretched out masked killer), she’d never come across a clearing. Not to mention she should have been able to see it from a distance just moments ago-

Meg slowly stopped at the edge of it, just under the trees lining the sides of it as she turned to glance in all directions, holding her breath as she strained her ears for any abnormal sounds. When her lungs began to protest for air she released it in one fell swoop, pausing to catch her breath before she carefully crept forwards. She lifted her leg, pressed one foot into the clearing, pausing for- something, anything. 

Nothing.

Meg slowly stepped further in, glancing in every direction. She waited for the ground to swallow her whole, for the Entity’s claw to descend from above , for- 

She snorted to herself, placing her hands on her hips as she grinned wryly to herself. Look at her, all paranoid after countless murder trials. She scuffed a foot against the drooping grass blades, watching them rustle then fall still. She was too pent up, she needed to antagonize a few killers to get rid of some of that steam. 

Meg shifted, ready to move on before she froze at the burst of color in the corner of her vision. She turned, squinting to the brightly colored object several steps away, jarringly out of place within the desolate forest. The redhead tilted her head, padding closer, cautiously as if it’d leap out at her. She slowed as she neared, finally recognizing it as a box, with familiar printed letters across the top of it and-

Meg froze, stiffly faltering in place as she stared down at the box of baked sweets, the smell slamming into her nose and forcing her to blink her rapidly wetting eyes as a phantom of a man smiled against her ear, pressing a kiss to her forehead as he pressed it into her hands.

“A reward after all of your hard work,” he’d respond with a casual shrug, brushing off all of her attempts to pay him back or get him to stop. “I’d be a jerk of a boyfriend if I-”

“Do you like it?”

Meg whirled around, already dropping low to the ground in preparation for a deathly swipe, eyes darting to the clothed figure leaning against a tree on the cusp of the clearing, arms casually crossed over his chest. 

She blinked at him, torn between too many howling emotions- fear: waiting for him to draw his knife and strike her down, alongside a rapid, beating warmth in her chest: Jed, pressed so close to her side she could feel him for for the first time in- who knows how long, and grief: clawing at her throat, at her insides, tearing open her chest to gnash its teeth around her heart and tear it apart. “I’ll be back soon,” he’d said, brushing his lips against her forehead, and his side of the bed had remained cold since-

She blinked, narrowing her eyes at Ghostface. The killer remained in place, silent, steady, merely watching her without a single twitch. There was no ambience to focus on, nothing other than the sound of Meg’s heartbeat in her ears. 

She opened her mouth. She’d been silent too long, been trapped within her head, she needed to focus on the tense situation, the stalemate- 

“What?”- by the Fog, Meg wanted to slap herself. A journalist for a boyfriend (ex- a cruel voice in her ear whispered with glee and she squashed it under her palm) and this is how she dumbly responds. 

Ghostface tilted his head, jutting his chin in her direction. “The sweets.-”

Meg glanced down, blinking in surprise to find it in her palms, nails digging into the flimsy cardboard, crouched over it protectively, like a mother to her cubs. 

“-It’s hard to get anything in the Fog, much less that specifically. Do you like them?”

Ah.. Meg had heard whispers and groans of agony around the campfire that Ghostface had gotten harsher as of late, gunning for mori’s instead of hooks, each trial against him a definite death. Perhaps the Entity had chosen to reward his recent brutality, reveling in the spilled blood and pain.

Why he’d choose to waste it on a box of sweets of all things- much less give it to her- was completely unknown to Meg. 

“I don’t.” She replied, curt and forced. They were overwhelmingly sweet- and overpriced to boot- (she’d always been frugal, always chosen to spend her money wisely on what was necessary, never herself. It had been Jed’s first gift, because he knew she’d shove a necklace or bracelet right back into his hands and force him to return it. He couldn’t return cookies. And she’d tried to convince the both of them that they were awful, they weren't worth the price- but he was too quick to notice how she’d light up at the taste, finish every crumb-)

Ghostface tilted his head at her. The silence pressed down on her, forcing Meg to roll her shoulders in discomfort. 

“Are you sure?” Meg stiffened at the strange tone the killer exuded, a watchful eye snapping to him, legs bunching under her in preparation to run. 

“Yes,” she snapped back. She should throw it for extra measure, just to hone it in- but her nails dug further into it at the thought, the sharp edges digging uncomfortably into her palms.

She stared down at the pastel box trapped under her, forcing back tears as her shoulders fell. She just- please, she just wanted Jed back- 

She wanted to meet him early in the morning, resting against him on their bench as he’d complain about getting up so early but meet her without fail. She wanted to hook her chin over his shoulder, watch him filter out his shots through half lidded eyes. 

She’d go toe to toe with every killer, she’d step into the Entity’s cruel embrace of her own will, she’d take every mori- please she just wanted Jed back.

Meg blinked back to the too still, too quiet forest, dark and drooping, a mimicry provided by the Entity, enrichment in their container. She stiffly raised her head, desperately scanning for Ghostface. She’d left her backside exposed, her neck vulnerable, too lost in her own head to hear anything- to the sight of an empty forest.  

She slowly straightened, balancing on wobbling knees to crane her neck and scan in every direction for extra security. Nothing. No one. Not even the trees rustled to reply to her. Meg stumbled on her next step, dragging her feet that were replaced with lead, snagging her foot on every branch as she scrambled away from the clearing- back to the campfire, back to people where she could force a grin and fill her head with mindless chatter. 

She panted for breath, covered in cold sweat as she finally halted several paces away from the clearing, turning back to look at it. It remained impassive, innocent, gave her no answers. 

She shifted, cautiously turning back around (she didn’t care anymore, even if there were other killers lingering in these woods, at least she’d be back at the campfire quicker then)- before a flash of pink startled her at the edge of her vision. Meg snapped her head downwards, finding the rectangular box firmly clasped to her chest, fingers aching from how tightly wrapped they were around it.

She blinked, staring down at it, before she turned away and stumbled back to the campfire. 

. . . How did the Entity just happen to gift her favorite cookies?-

[p0orbaby]

Horndogs

summary: teenage boys with teenage problems

warnings: a little spicy, brief mentions of drugs and hospitals, the boys are a handful that’s for sure, not proof read

a/n: a little taste of the future

word count: 1k

-

“You wanna get out of here?”

Your voice was quiet. A whisper against the skin of Wanda’s neck. Front pressed to her back, trapping her as she prepared lunch.

She chuckled, “what, and leave the boys to fend for themselves for the rest of the weekend?”

“Sure. They’re old enough to hold down the fort now”. The fingers that gripped at her sides tightened just slightly. Toying with the soft fabric of the t-shirt she had chosen to wear that day. “If we’re fast enough we can pack and get out before they get home”

Wanda turned in your hold, arms coming up to wrap around your neck. “And say we did ‘get out of here’, what would you have in mind we do?” Her eyes bright with mischievousness. The apples of her cheeks red from smiling.

“I can think of a few things. You know me, ever the resourceful”

Your words were partnered with the lowering of your hands. From flank, to hips, to ass. Palms gripping soft flesh gently through her sweats. Head ducking low to place soft kisses along her jaw.

The soft sigh Wanda exhaled at the way your lips moved against her made you smile in triumph. Your plan was working.

“We can't”, she breathed in protest. Even though her hands came up to your head to keep it where it was.

“We can”

If you carried on, she’d be hard pressed to cover the marks you were leaving on her skin. Though not something you’re opposed to seeing, it might be hard to explain to the boys why they’re mom is covered in bruises. Again. Not that they believed your excuses anyway.

Kissing and sucking, you went lower. Collar bones, chest, valley between her breasts. All whilst her fingers tugged gently at your hair. Body leaning awkwardly against the hard edge of the kitchen counter. Biting her lip to stifle sounds not safe for a family home.

“You two are disgusting”

There were few times in your life where you can say you’ve experienced true fear. Your typical grievances with someone with a past such as yours. Being ripped away from your birth mother. Your first bad trip. Your second bad trip. Tony when he’s angry. The realisation Wanda might leave you after waking up in a hospital bed. But the thing that trumps all of the above? Getting caught by your children in a compromising position with their mother.

“Do you have to do that in here?”

In one smooth move you were out of Wanda’s grasp. Sliding away from her and choosing to look in cupboards, wash your hands, anything to act like what you were just doing hadn’t happened.

“I thought you were out with your friends. Where’s your brother?” Wanda asked, going back to chopping whatever it was you’d distracted her from five minutes ago.

“Tommy wanted to go to the lake. I didn't, obviously”

“Right”, you found it hard to adjust to the teenage angst your boys have seemed to develop. At just seventeen they thought they ruled the world. “Did he say who he was going with?”

“No, but I’m guessing it’s the girl he fingered at back of the bowling alley last week”

Both you and your wife turned around instantly at his words. Necks snapping and eyes bulging.

“Hey!” The word bounced off the walls. A simultaneous outburst of shock at what your son had just said.

“What? Don’t act like you don’t know what he’s like”

Neither of you were stupid, of course you knew. You’d had the talk with both of them, and again with Tommy when he came home past curfew. Neck covered in hickies that were already turning purple.

“We’re not talking about what your brother does or doesn’t get up to” you sigh, trying not to get annoyed at something that wasn’t Billy’s fault. “But please, just refrain from talking like that around us. It’s rude”

“Unless you have genuine questions about it. Then we can discuss in more detail. Perhaps not over the kitchen island though” Wanda added. Not wanting to deter your child from coming to either of you if he has questions regarding such a topic.

You had to hold back from grimacing at the thought of talking with them about that again. You loved them. Dearly. But some things aren’t the most fun to deal with.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked.

“Not really,” he said.

Thank god.

Changing the subject entirely, “did you drive the car back?”

“Yeah, he got a ride with AJ. He said he’d drop him off before he headed home”

You exhaled in relief whilst the boy turned away from you to rummage in the fridge. Even Wanda physically deflated at the knowledge Sam's nephew would be bringing your other son home. Sarah would have his head if he didn’t keep his word.

“Is there a reason you didn’t want to go with your brother? You asked, leaning over Wanda and popping a slice of cucumber in your mouth in tandem.

“I told you, he’s meeting a girl. I don’t want to be around that. It’s gross”

You continued, “And what about your friends? I’m sure not all of them are meeting up with girls?”

“Mom, do you want me to leave so you two can get back to kissing, or whatever?”

You both had the decency to look embarrassed. Chewing and chopping stopping abruptly.

“Why am I surrounded by horndogs?” the boy sighed. Voice almost getting lost under the crunching and crackling of chip bags and snacks he’d piled in his arms.

“We weren’t, that’s not what-“ you stuttered. Face heating with shame.

“Save it. Just not when I'm here, kay? I’m begging”

And with that, he was off. Exiting the kitchen as quietly as he came in, leaving you and Wanda stunned and silent as you processed what had just happened.

“So, still wanna get out of here?” Wanda asked when she'd gained back enough composure. Smirking slightly as you rested your head against a cabinet door.

“I need a drink. Do we-“

“In the fridge”

A bottle of wine and an afternoon of avoiding your child it is.

[am-i-interrupting]

Okay first off OMG THANK YOU FOR ACCEPTING ME REQUEST!! I loved it and I was wondering if it isn’t too soon like what was Vox x readers wedding like from the OATSH series I’m just wondering since they mentioned Vox was wearing his wedding ring so I wonder what their wedding was like I bet velvet made the brides and grooms suit and doing a absolute amazing job and why do I see Vox crying a bit like not water fall crying but like light produce section Mist crying. also why do I imagine Vox got turned on if he saw yn getting all angry and stuff 😅 also again thank you for accepting my request

Their wedding was actually in the 60s but this is how I imagine it.

To Feel Adored | OATSH

You wanted to continue to adjust and nitpick. You couldn’t keep your hands or your heart steady.

This was it. It was finally happening. You were getting married. It felt like a fantasy. It didn’t feel real. How could it be? How could this happen to you?

You adjusted your earrings even though they didn’t need it. It was a good thing Rosie hadn’t allowed you to hold your bouquet because you had no doubt it would be torn up petal by petal on the floor.

You gathered the soft fabric of your dress and ran your thumb over it. The dress was beautiful. Lace hugged your bust and collarbone creating an empire waist to the dress. The sleeves were long and bell shaped, cuffing at your wrists. The dress itself didn’t accentuate your curves but rather fell delicately over them.

A knock on the door.

“Come in!”

It barely creaked as it opened but your ears still turned to the sound. You saw your father’s reflection join your own in the mirror.

He wasn’t wearing his usual suit but it was similar enough. It had the same stripes in that reddish-pink color he was so found of but the base of the suit was white. He wore his stitched up at between his deer ears, his horns having grown big enough to peak out the top of it. He’d chosen his glasses instead of his monocle for the day. The rested carefully on the bridge of his nose. He smiled at you with those stained teeth of his.

“Are you ready, my deer?” he asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” you told him.

“Good.” He reached for your veil and placed it over your hair (which you’d decided to wear naturally) and face, no need for a clip when the holes for your fox ears would keep it in place just fine. “Let’s get this over with.”

He held his arm out to you. “I’m not going to die.”

“Ah, let’s not get stuck over semantics,” he said as you looked your arm in his.

He placed his hand atop of yours. You didn’t miss the small squeeze he gave it. You squeezed it back.

Rosie greeted you in the hall, Frank at her side. Rosie and Frank dressed in opposing colors. Frank dawning more light pinks instead of the usual whites while Rosie wore a nearly all black dress, the bust a pink that matched Frank but covered by a ribcage.

She finally handed you your bouquet. Irises, which reminded you of life in New Orleans, joined by red lupines and blue hydrangea. You felt yourself leaning against your father even more. Alastor held you steady.

You focused on the flowers in your hand as you walked toward the isle. You couldn’t look at anything else. You couldn’t breathe.

You just focused on the flowers and thought of every moment up until this point that had gotten you here. In both life and in death and you couldn’t believe that this was true, that it was happening, that it was real.

You took a deep breath and looked up. Immediately you were taken by his expression. Vox’s absolutely love-stricken eyes. The zap of electricity that went between his antennas, showing his rapid heart rate as your eyes met.

Then you were taken in by his outfit.

He did always look so handsome in dark colors. A dark black suit jacket hung open to reveal his white and blue stripped waistcoat, double breasted. His dress shirt beneath was black but von straws the the light purple tie he had so nicely. Vaguely, absently your registered that the purple matched the accents on your tail, ears, and hair.

He looked absolutely stunning.

You and Alastor got to the alter before you were ready. You didn’t even flinch when Alastor took Vox’s outstretched hand and used it to pull him closer before you could grab it.

“Hurt her and I will tear your soul apart bit by bit for all of Hell to hear, understand?”

“I—um,“ Vox barely even spared him a glance, too focused on you. “Yes.”

“Lovely.”

He let go of Vox and allowed him to take your hand. His own was grabbed by Rosie who was shaking her head as she pulled him to his seat.

“Was that necessary?”

“Very.”

You paid it no mind. You hand was in Vox’s. So delicately, he helped you up to the podium when you really needed no help at all or you couldn’t, if you could take your eyes off him.

In front of the podium, he carefully lifted the veil from your face and folded it atop your head. He let his hand carefully caress the side of your face. Then your hands joined together and the ceremony began.

It was all a blur, too focused on the man in front of you to truly process anything that was said. Just repeating the words you vaguely registered and taking the rings off of the pillow Vark held in his mouth, until the line you had been waiting for came:

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Vox didn’t have time to react as you quickly grabbed his tie and pulled him down into a kiss. He nearly fell back due the force but gripping your waist, he managed to not go backwards. You surged forward and wrapped your other arm around his shoulder and kept him close. His hands went between your shoulder blades.

You pulled away. No longer bride and groom but husband and wife.

A large meal had been made mainly by Rosie and Alastor though there were a few things you saw that you knew neither would have been able to make so someone else must have been involved. Everything had been labeled, however, with ingredients so no one who didn’t favor cannibalism would be subjected to it.

There were, of course, speeches to be made which began when Alastor stood and whipped out his microphone. Within the company of only friends and family, there was a bit of ability to let down some of those fortress walls of his, aided by the whiskeys you’d seen him take back both before the ceremony and now.

“In life, you were one of the few I cared for and in death that remains the same. However, recently I’ve had to come to terms with the fact that you have grown up and you did it without me. So, although I may no longer be the center of your world anymore, know you shall always be the center of mine and know that should anyone hurt you I will not hesitate to take the time and energy to host a broadcast so excruciating that he will deafen himself and all those in hell with the sound of his screams.”

Your rolled your eyes as the last part was spoken directly to Vox.

“You have and will always be,” Alastor reached out for you hand, “my best accomplishment and so long as you are happy, I can live a fulfilling afterlife.”

Alastor kissed your hand and squeezed it. You squeezed back.

Alastor looked at Vox as he gently placed your hand on the table and twirled his microphone before it was engulfed in shadow. A silent competition.

“Well, I know when to take a cue,” Vox said as he stood. “Now, I’ll admit defeat and say this one time that words are not my strongest skill. I am far better suited with visuals.”

Vox brought out a television. His back facing you prevented you from seeing what he was doing but you heard the click of a button before the television began booting up. Vox moved to the side.

“There was no day in my life more special than the day I met you and no day more devastating than when I lost you,” Vox said as the television flickered one last time before it settled.

You saw something you didn’t know. You saw the day the two of you met from Vox’s perspective. You had been too busy adjusting every detail of your appearance so you played the part that you hadn’t seen him glance through the window of the door and see you, stare at you for a moment before he shook himself and took a few steps so he could make a grand entrance.

“Getting to know you was the greatest adventure of my life.”

You were shown spinning around with your arms open as you spoke to him, that day you met. No words came from the television but you remembered them. Him pointing at night, leaning against you as you held him upright came on screen next.

“I will never meet another so kind—“ you in your waitress outfit topping off a costumer— “and righteous—“ you in a snow white dress, dragging a knife down a man’s Adam apple in a darkened alleyway (when had that happened?)— “and beautiful as you.”

The two of you in that bloodstained cabin. You had fallen asleep on his shoulder, cheek squished up and hair damp, curled, and frizzy. He had it wrapped around his finger.

“In life or in death, there is no one I would rather spend eternity with. No one else could ever compare to you. You saved me in ways that I can’t even explain and sparked me to life again after I died in more ways than just physically. I have lived in a reality without you in it and it caused nothing but pain.”

Vox climbing up the ladder in life, angry, snapping, alone. Vox climbing up the ladder in death with you by his side. He was smiling and dancing and waking up content with you atop his chest, hand over his heart, making sure he was alright.

“I came to the realization years ago but it remains true. I would rather not exist at all than exist without you.”

The television flickered off. Vox moved to sit down, next to you once again but he didn’t get the chance as you met him halfway with a hug. You squeezed his middle as you pressed yourself into his chest.

“I love you,” you said, muffled by his suit.

He held you just as tightly. “I love you too.” You both stayed like that for a moment.

Vox’s hand rubbed up and down you back. He looked over your head at Alastor. There seemed to be something in that brief moment, an understanding of how much they both cared about you between one another. It was gone the next moment as contempt came to Alastor’s expression.

“Let’s go sit, doll,” Vox said softly.

You let him drag you back to your seat, though neither of you let go of one another.

There were a few other speeches given.

One from Mimzy that was oddly heartwarming, about watching you grow up and getting to see you now. Of course, she had to throw in a quip about the money you and Vox had as overlords and you had to roll your eyes.

There was one from Rosie about how wonderful love could be and how she was so happy that you’d found it. She wished you both a happy afterlife together.

A couple others from very close friends but for two influential people, the wedding was actually rather small. It was intimate. Not broadcasted or recorded, not a public spectacle.

Then it was time for cake. You and Vox were both handed a knife. His arm was wrapped around your back, holding you close. Alastor summoned his microphone once again for a countdown.

“Three, two, cut!”

You and Vox both went to cut the cake but your knife sliced through faster. You turned to look at him with a smug smile.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he said.

You continued to do so.

“You act like it wasn’t obvious who the true head of the household is,” Alastor chimed in.

“I—“

Vox rolled his eyes with a scowl.

“Oh, come on, baby, we all knew it,” you said, forcing him to look at you as you grabbed his lapels and mocked his pout.

Vox continued to look down at you unamused. He moved to tap your nose with his knife but you were faster. You wrapped your lips around it and licked off the cake and icing mixture. You hummed, it tasted divine. Vox blushed.

“Alright, alright,” Rosie said, with her hands over Alastor’s eyes, “let’s safe that for the honeymoon.”

“Mmm, no, let’s save that for never,” Alastor said as he gently moved Rosie’s wrist away from his face.

The first song you’d ever humored Vox in with dancing played over the radio. You looked up at him as you shook your head.

“Is your goal today to make me cry?” you asked.

“It’s not the goal,” he said as he grabbed your hand, “the goal is to show you how much I adore you. Is it working?”

He began leading you in a waltz. “Yes, very much so,” you said.

You placed your head on his shoulder. You let him drag you through motion to motion. You let yourself get lost in the rhythm.

You opened your eyes and over his shoulder you saw Vark following behind his every step. You smiled.

“I think someone wants to dance,” you said, voice barely a whisper.

“Oh, believe me, it’s been a challenge not to trip over him,” Vox replied.

You laughed lightly and closed your eyes again.

A couple seconds later you felt a hammerhead begin to push your legs and Vox’s legs apart. You laughed as Vox looked down unamused.

Vark looked up at the two of you with his best puppy eyes so of course you picked him up. He was getting heavy but that was okay. With the combined effort of you and Vox, you both held him between you as you finished the dance.

All together, a nice little family you made.

[fatum679]

Hello, sorry to brother you again, please lmk if u have enough of my rants 🤣. I wanna ask , don't you think it's somewhat crazy that due to this ridiculous a*ysmond vs. helaemond ship war, the character of Helaena Targaryen seems to have more haters among the TG than TB part of the fandom? I legit know several TB supporters/ content creators who claim Helaena deserves better and it will be cool if it turns out she has kids with someone who likes and respects her(=Aemond). Also, even TBs point out if the showrunners want to give Aemond a romantic subplot, helaemond will be a better option, since unlike a*ysmond , this relationship is a consensual one + Aemond's protectiveness and attachment to his sister appear pretty obvious... It's such a pity some Green fans diminish Hel's clairvoyance and claim it's useless and she's far less powerful seer and less interesting character than A*ys. They want A*ys' magic to be explored further, and not Hel's. Which I totally don't understand, since in GOT, we have already seen greenseers, woods witches and even Red Priests, but we still don't know much about dragon dreamers. Imo focusing on Targaryen magic in a Targaryen -centric show would be a far better idea. Also, HOTD's portrayal of Helaena could potentially be a really refeshing and original take on a magical woman. I mean unlike stereotypical sorceresses, usually dark-haired, clad in flowy, dusky gowns and dwelling in fantastic, Gothic manors, Hel looks like a sweet Princess ,but she's still blood of the dragon and a seer. I mean she doesn't need Gothic aesthetics and stuff to be "magical", since she herself is magic!

Hello! I'm glad to see your questions and glad that you are interested in my opinion 😊

The asoiaf fandom has always been toxic, no matter if you discuss books or series, there have always been wars in the fandom. Treat it like a game and don't spend a lot of energy on it.

Yes, there is a war of ships going on now. It's true, alysmond stans is the anti-Helaena and the anti-Helaemond. I don't understand why TG thinks Alys is part of the green party. Alys is not green. She has her own personal interests and goals.

Dance of the dragons is a Targaryen story, Alys is not a Targaryen, she is just a tertiary character (like Mysaria), she will not have more time.

I really want to see more of Helaena as a character, more of her magical abilities, more of her personality, more of her connection to the people of King's Landing, her family, her children, and her dragon. Rhaenyra did more action (in the book she sat on Dragonstone for the entire war), so I'm sure Helaena will have a lot of screen time.

Helaena doesn't have to be a stereotypical and banal goth girl. Comparing her to Alys is a waste of time. Helaena is beautiful, she looks like an elf and a fallen angel to girls from sagas.

Helaegon stans opposes Aemond, and they don't like all the allusions to Helaemond. I'm not anti-Aegon, but I'm anti-helaegon because there was no love between Aegon and Helaena in the show or even in the book. It was a forced marriage. Aegon had a mistress and other children. helaegon is lmao. helaegon is an abusive relationship. Abusive to Helaena. This is the reality and the truth.

“Princess Helaena was breaking her fast with her children when the Kingsguard came to her…but when asked the whereabouts of Prince Aegon, her brother and husband, she said only, “He [Aegon] is not in my bed, you may be sure. Feel free to search beneath the blankets””

“Though the good septon admits Prince Aegon was with a paramour when he was found, he insists the girl was the daughter of a wealthy trader, and well cared for besides”

“We have nothing in common”, “You [Aemond] marry her [Helaena], then”

“She's an idiot”

“I regret the disappointment you [Baela] are soon to suffer. But if you ever wish to kniw what it is to be well satisfied, all you have to do is ask”

“It isn’t so bad. Mostly he just ignores you…except sometimes when he’s drunk”.

“Think of the shame on your wife, on me” [Aegon r*p*d the Dyana who helped Helaena with her babys]

“I will find a ship and sail away, never to be found” [Aegon wanted to run away, abandon Helaena and her children]

I think Aegon always wanted to be on Rhaenyra's side. Perhaps he thought that Viserys would start to notice him and love him if he was closer to his older sister than to his other siblings. Even as a child, he was more interested in spending time with his nephews, and he did not take Alicent's words seriously until Aemond's eye was gouged out (Aemond could have died after such a wound)

“If Rhaenyra come into power you very life could be forfeit. Aemond is as well. She could move to cut off any challenge to her succession”

“Then I won’t challenge”

Aegon has a bad relationship with his mother and siblings ("She's an idiot" "He's a twat"). I think Aegon was more interested in love from Viserys and Rhaenyra than from his real family.

“My sister is the heir, not me,” he says in Eustace’s account. “What sort of brother steals his sister’s birthright?”

“He [Viserys]didn't like me”

Perhaps Aegon liked the idea of marrying Rhaenyra?

Sorry, I got a little off topic.

I agree with you, it would be great if Helaena's children were with the man she loves (Aemond). It is very sad and terrible that Helaena had to endure drunken se**ally har***ment from Aegon 🫣 😱 Poor girl 🥺 😭 I hate Aegon for this! Alicent, why did you let this happen? Helaena could have Aemond! Helaena was scared when Otto and Alicent asked her where Aegon was. She lowered her head - this is a gesture of protection. I don’t understand people who “like” Helaena and support the helaegon ship. They support abusive relationships and domestic vio**nce. It is a fact. This is anti-Helaena relationships.

#We need more Helaena in season 2!

[angelique-of-the-volturi-guard]

You guys I had an idea and yes I’m making the fic for it (Which will probably be posted when I finish it because I’m in two long fics deep right now) but here goes:

Loid losing his memory of being a spy and believing that he’s only Loid Forger. He wakes up in the hospital with a head injury and a bullet to his thigh after a stray bullet from a shooting in the workplace caused a light to fall on his head. He has no memory of being a spy, and thinks he’s just a regular husband and father. Anya is the only one who notices something is up, and she tries to devise a plan to get Papa the help he needs. Her time comes when Franky comes to visit and she asks him to play with her in her room, shutting the door before she asks him for his help with something really important, and makes him promise not to tell Mama and Papa. Franky can tell she’s being serious and reluctantly agrees. She asks him if he knows the “red haired boss lady” that helped them get Bond, and when he says yes, she says she has to meet and talk with her, but won’t tell him why, only that she thinks the lady can help her with something really important. She practically begs him to take her and tell Mama and Papa they were going someplace else, and he eventually agrees as long as she tells him what’s wrong later.

Franky gets her a meeting with Sylvia Sherwood who is initially super pissed at Franky for bringing her but when Anya tells her that her Papa’s in trouble and she’s the only one who can help, that gets her attention, and she and Anya sit down. Anya tells her about the hospital shooting (that she was aware of), but tells her that her Papa isn’t himself anymore. Sylvia asks what she means, and Anya makes her promise to wait until she’s all done talking before she says anything. Sylvia agrees, curious. Anya makes the difficult decision to reveal her powers to Sylvia, even proving it to her by reading her thoughts, and tells her that she knows Papa’s a spy and has been helping him with his mission to get close to Donovan Desmond without him knowing. Sylvia is stunned, for once.

She asks how long Anya knew about her father being a spy and she says ever since she got home from the orphanage, and that she never told anybody because she knew what it was like to have secret powers you can’t share. She then tells her that Her papa doesn’t remember being a spy and she knows that’s dangerous for him, and asks for her help to keep him safe, offering to help keep the mission going on her own and using her powers to help Franky and pass along anything useful for WISE. Sylvia is impressed by her initiative but tells her that this is a dangerous mission and she needs to understand what she’s getting herself into. Anya then proceeds to tell her about times she’s helped Loid without him knowing, and tells her that she knows it’s dangerous, but she wants to help make her Papa’s dream come true of making a world where kids don’t cry. And Sylvia agrees to her plan for now but asks why she told her as opposed to anyone else. She says it’s because she knew Papa trusted her, so that meant it was safe for her to. Anya asks one other thing, and it’s that if she helps them, will they take her on as a spy and make Papa her handler like she’s his so they can be together forever and she promises to see what she can do, and realizes that her powers would be an excellent asset.

Anya continues trying to earn Stella and to get Damian to ask her over. Sylvia informs Franky of the developments and he comes over every day to see how Loid is doing and Anya sneaks him information. Loid is frustrated over his lack of autonomy, because it means Yor has to pick up the slack, but her caring for him really starts making him fall in love with her, and she him. They start to become more couple like, and Sylvia is very worried about the developments, but can’t interfere until Loid’s memory is back. When his thigh is healed, he takes Yor on a date and they dance in the park. Franky is out with Anya and they see them together, kissing. Anya runs to them, and Loid dances with her too, with her standing on his shoes, before he dances with the three of them together (He calls them his girls and that little detail WRECKED me), before there’s an explosion near the park, and it trigger’s Twilight’s memory of meeting Yor, and it all comes flooding back. He tells Yor to get Anya out of there and says he’s going to see if there are any survivors he can take to the hospital. Yor takes Anya home, and she is relieved that her Papa is finally back. She tells Franky the next day to give Sylvia something and hands him a piece of paper. He does, and she opens it to a drawing from Anya of her family with a sloppily written thank you underneath. Sylvia frames it, and Anya is put under WISE’s protection while continuing to help Franky, and Loid and Yor really do become a couple.

I just have a lot of feelings about this okay? 😭

[blackjackkent]

All right. Time to go kill Ketheric Thorm.

Narrator: No longer a background murmur, the presence in your mind builds to a roar.

"We've found it," whispers the guardian in Rakha's mind. "The Absolute is behind this door."

Rakha can barely hear her. The voice of the Absolute has been rumbling ever louder in her head as they have descended through the illithid colony, and now it is so loud it almost blocks out everything else.

The tadpole writhes and squirms eagerly in her temple, harmonizing with that overwhelming voice. And in dissonant counterpoint, the beast urge in the back of her mind growls - with equal eagerness but more malice, wanting to push forward, find Thorm, find the brain, find all of it and rip and tear and destroy. Beneath all of it is the new knowledge of some forgotten betrayal here, the knife in her back that destroyed her and broke her mind - the need for answers and the fear of what they might be when found.

Rakha's head aches with these opposing forces, so badly that it feels like her skull might split apart.

Enter.

She lays a hand against the undulating flesh of the final door and feels it give way for her.

-----

Another fleshy corridor. More ooze sticking to the soles of her boots.

This one, though, opens to an enormous cavern beyond, glowing with the sickly green light of the brining pool that covers the ground. A raised, ringed platform stands at the center, on which three figures are gathered and speaking in sharp voices. Another figure kneels with his head bowed nearby, unmoving.

"You said it was under control." The figure at the center is the first voice Rakha catches. A human with a shaggy mop of dark hair, an elaborate, long black coat, and golden bracers that stretch down over the knuckles of both hands.

"It isn't you I answer to, Gortash." That voice Rakha already knows. Ketheric. The General has healed some of the wounds she and her companions gave him, but not all - he looks battered and worn, veins standing out sharply in the lines of his face.

The human - Gortash - laughs mockingly. "Oh, the *General* voice," he sneers. "Is this where we salute?"

"Salute, yes--" the third figure speaks up. "With cleavers through his blood-starved flesh. how it crawls with failure like flies on lick-wet carrion..."

Rakha goes still and her eyes go wide. That voice... she knows that voice. She doesn't know why.

The woman is of no race Rakha can identify. Her skin is a pale, sickly grey, and even at this distance Rakha can see that it is moving, with constantly shifting patterns like ink on the surface of water. The armor she wears has the sheen of fresh meat rather than metal. Her eyes are blank white orbs and her smile is wide with madness.

"You forget yourself, Orin," Ketheric snarls at her. "I have played my part.

Gortash rolls his eyes, unimpressed. "You've built an army for our masters, true enough. But what of the Astral Prism? A rogue True Soul, flaunting it under your nose all this time. And you ran from her!"

"Sure that they would follow and deliver it into my hands here," Ketheric snaps. "If you would cease these distractions--"

"The distractions have been *yours*, Ketheric!" exclaims Gortash with a dismissive shake of his head. His lip curls. "Perhaps we should never have dug your daughter up..."

Ketheric boils forward like lightning, one gauntleted fist lifting, ready to smash into Gortash's face-- and just as quick, the strange woman in red is moving to meet him, a long curved dagger settling with its point at his throat.

Gortash smiles, having not moved a muscle. "So you haven't lost your edge... but you're still not as sharp as Orin is, I wager..." He laughs - a high, cold sound. "The slayer against the undying one. That would be fun to see."

"His cryptbreath sings to my sinews..." the woman purrs, that mad smile splitting her face like a blade wound. "Again. Again. Againagainagain--" She draws back, drops the knife to her side. "But he must lead the murdermarch to Baldur's Grave..."

Rakha struggles to breathe. The pain in her head has been redoubling on itself, so intense that she can barely see. She desperately needs to think, to parse this situation as she always does, see the facts of it, determine how to strike, what to do--

But every syllable of that woman's voice makes her head throb like that jagged knife has been sunk into it.

"Orin and I can wait for you no longer," Gortash says curtly. "The plan proceeds. We're going to the city, and we expect you to follow - army and the weapon in tow."

Without waiting for a response, he turns away and walks to the far end of the platform, looking out at the roiling water of the brining pool. He raises one fist, and the gemstone lodged in one of his bracers glows with a sudden violet light.

"The edict of Bane!" he bellows.

"The lash of Bhaal!" cries Orin, lifting her dagger; the gem set into it glows as well, blood-red.

Again Rakha's head spasms with pain. Deep in the water, something begins to move, the rolling movement turning to a boil. And through the slits of her eyes squeezed almost shut, Rakha can see the lines of magical energy snaking through the Weave, down into the green liquid, calling something... up...

The thing bursts from the water on the heels of the thought. An enormous ridged pink mass crowned in a ring of spiked metal embedded into its very flesh. Tentacles like those Rakha saw in the walls thrash around it, sending splashes of water across the platform. It writhes and strains against the tendrils of magic coming from Gortash and Orin; whatever they are doing, it is dragging this thing along the path of their choosing by force.

For a moment, Ketheric watches as they struggle with it. Then he steps between them and spreads his arms as a last burst of light - this time pale pink - erupts from the gem embedded in his armor.

"The testament of Myrkul!" he shouts.

A third tendril of magic surges through the Weave and sinks into the enormous creature's flesh, binding it like rope. It goes still and calm, hanging quiescent just above the surface of the water.

"An elder brain..." says the guardian in Rakha's head. Her presence, normally a balm against Rakha's internal turmoil, does nothing to ease the pain throbbing in her temples. "One of the cruelest and most powerful creatures in existence, enslaved by mere mortals..."

"There we are," Gortash says, sounding satisfied. "It wouldn't do to fight in front of our guest." He turns and takes a few quick steps across the platform, back towards the last figure kneeling there. "Behold, Duke Ravengard - the Absolute!"

Rakha's blood runs cold as a realization punctures through the haze of pain. The kneeling man is Ravengard. Wyll's father.

"Helm preserve us..." the Duke rasps, almost too low to hear.

Orin crouches at his side, grabbing him by the shoulders, holding him still. "You wag your wordflap in vain, Ulderling," she croons. "Once the worm holds the whip, your shredded flesh will serve us."

"Shit - no! Father!" Wyll hisses at Rakha's side... but it's too late. They watch, horrified, as the worm slides down one of the brain's tentacles and into Ravengard's eye. His scream pierces the air around the platform.

Wyll's anguish joins the other terrible wrenching pains in Rakha's head.

"Now," Gortash says briskly to Ketheric as Ravengard slumps forward. "It's really time we were going. We will empty this place and begin the march. You may catch up with the army once you've retrieved the weapon."

He moves next to Orin, standing behind Ravengard's trembling form. "And Ketheric," he adds, with a note of something like playfulness in his voice. "Do try not to sulk. You're supposed to be the fearsome general, come to conquer the city." His lips curl in a wide, self-satisfied smirk. "And I am the hero who will save it."

They vanish - Gortash, Orin, Ravengard, and the brain itself - in the burst of black smoke that Rakha has seen before. Illithid teleportation. Ketheric remains on the platform, his head bowed and his expression grim.

Rakha lets out a soft, involuntary whimper of relief. The brain is gone, and the presence of the Absolute weakens with the sudden distance. But instead of its pulsing roar in her head, she can feel its words resonating down with greater clarity, somewhere far above them where the cult's army waits.

"IT IS TIME, FAITHFUL ONES. MARCH ON BALDUR'S GATE. WE GO TO PREPARE THE WAY."

[handbarfs]

OKAY JRWI RIPTIDE THEORY TIME

i wanted to talk about the prophecy a little more, try to analyse it a bit and some of my dumb theories! spoilers for episode 110 ahead!

"An entity threatens world stability Caged in the deepest layers of infinity" The egg from the one shot that Drey took most probably released this entity and caused the hole in the sea.

"The seal remains locked by a key of divinity." If the Ferin bloodline possesses divine or special blood, it would explain how Drey, by holding it, could open this egg. Perhaps this egg was sealed away millennia ago by the two main goddesses, with the warriors who served them. The conflict may have started between two factions: those in favour of this entity and those opposed to it, maybe? The tree mentioned four bloodlines in the world, and it's possible that one of them had a disagreement with the other three, which eventually escalated into this war. This particular bloodline might have used this entity as a weapon in the great war, but perhaps things spiralled out of control?

this is what the tree said- "a war won by these combined efforts sealed an entity away and together created not only its prison but a key and a warning. this warning is the original prophecy meant to be passed down until the inevitable- time." and visions of tritons riding leviathans, red haired olympian looking elves flying with own wings, gargatuan dragons, casters controlling the elements like they were born to do so.

"Its release in time, an inevitability." The chains that imprisoned the entity might have a time limit I guess OR like most ancient prophecies, this one recognizes the inevitable hunger for power among most living beings. It foresees that people will attempt to find this entity to gain control over it and hopefully use it to become more powerful in Mana. Maybe the navy's secret project or Nikalus's personal plans are related to this entity?

"A sea god's last egg, the chosen is born underneath an eclipse, in the midst of a storm " The prophecy didn't come into action with Gillion's first birth but, in a way, with his second birth in the episode "Moonlight, Storm, and Sea" when he emerged from the Luxbris Pearl. I'm not entirely sure if it was an eclipse during that moment though; I just remember it being pure darkness, without a moon.

"foreboded calamity, the chosen is warned the shape of all life shall take a new form" If people have desires with with selfish motives, there will be repercussions. It's the same deal with Nikalus; he grants people's wishes, but they need to be pure-hearted. If someone asks for something with greed and self-serving intentions, it messes them up, with the tar corrupting and eventually killing them.

"the shape of all life shall take a new form" so this corrupted tar affects all creatures, all life forms- turning them into tar monsters, with their greatest fears and needs plaguing them as they become undead- a new form.

"A choice to be made, with no time to mourn." This part gets pretty confusing because the story hasn't really touched on the idea of making choices (except for that culty nonsense the elders fed Gillion). Maybe there's a choice between fulfilling personal desires or attaining true freedom from the desires that lock us into labels and hinder personal growth. Like Chip's burning desire to find Arlin, which keeps him stuck in his painful past and memories, preventing him from moving forward and growing. Or Jay's dilemma, torn between her Navy Ferin family and the loss of her sister, versus taking control of her life and focusing on herself. And Gillion, caught between the undersea rules and manipulation that's easier to accept, versus facing the pain and fear of confronting the lies and manipulation the guardians have fed him, discovering a much larger and complex world beyond the undersea. Their freedom from these desires would leave no room for mourning because they'd be too busy enjoying their liberation from such constraints.

A couple more things- Niklaus's powers bear a striking resemblance to the entity that corrupts the Black Sea. Maybe his freedom is tied to freeing this entity, giving him full access to his abilities? Another character with powers similar to this entity is Kuba Kenta, involving black tar oozing from wounds inflicted by him and and nightmares of people's worst fears. Kenta's powers have been described as otherworldly (the probability of different planes, existence of creatures worse than demons and fiends that come from the darkest depths "crawled from the darkest depths of creation itself"). All of these powers—Black Sea corruption, Niklaus's, and Kenta's—basically lead to a slow killing for their victims, exploiting their fears and greed while breaking their sense of self before ultimately killing them. My theory is that one of the bloodlines involved in the great war against the others dabbled in forbidden dark magic, and invited this entity into Mana. Things likely spiraled out of control, and the other bloodlines had to quell it through the great war and cage it within the egg, and then shunning out this particular bloodline for its actions. Now, it seems this bloodline is trying to regain its place in society by tampering with this entity once more, and I THINK it has something to do with the Hendrix bloodline and Nikalus's desire of freedom.

And I also think the Navy is aware of this entity and its history (maybe Ferin family secrets) and is trying to create a machine to help control this entity and ally with fiendish creatures like Kenta under their ranks. They plan to USE the entity to stay in power socially and militarily in Mana.

[gothamsfavecoterrorist]

I edited this art of Ivy and Harley to make Ivy's hair more Red (Its a varient cover for Poison Ivy #9 by Dan Mora)

my edit

original

[kimbappykidding]

You liked to think you were super professional after being a stylist at SM for 3 years. It didn't matter if you'd had a bad day or felt a certain way about an idol, you were always smart and formal. Then you got transferred from Chanyeol to Sehun while he was in the military and that notion completely left your mind. You'd heard Sehun’s reputation of being a strong visual and agreed he was good looking but thought that about most idols you worked with and it never usually affected you...Sehun was a little different. He was just effortlessly beautiful without even striking a pose or wearing anything fancy. To prepare for styling him, you studied his past looks and photoshoots to work out the best outfit for him and were left exasperated. This might be one of your hardest jobs but not because Sehun was hard to make look good but more the opposite. You felt like anything you put on him would look amazing and were spoilt for choice. So you had lots of things you wanted to see him in and brought several options to your initial fitting, quite excited. Sehun arrived bang on time and walked in with the ease of someone who either doesn't know they're good-looking or doesn't really care. He bowed to you and introduced himself and you did the same. A few of his members were here for their fittings too and you'd also be styling Baekhyun so greeted him and tried to be just as warm as you were to Sehun. You did Baekhyun first because you thought he would be the quickest and he was. You found he looked best in longer garments as opposed to skin-tight ones and liked him in darker colours. You took a few photos of him and declared him done moving on to Sehun.

Sehun stepped forwards and you didn't know where to start. "I've seen lots of your campaigns and have quite a few ideas, so I'm going to have you try on a few things if that's okay?" you asked. Sehun nodded "yeah of course" smiling at you slightly and you noted his smile was really charming before telling yourself to focus. "Excellent, let's start casual with the black jeans, boots and t-shirt jacket" combo" you said passing them to Sehun and he diligently went into the dressing room.   You knew Sehun would look good but when he stepped out in just a casual outfit looking amazing you did pause. "That looks good on you" you said before going closer "how does the fit feel? The jacket looks really nice on your arms". Sehun told you it all felt good and you nodded. You took some photos and then moved on to the next outfit. 4 outfits later you realised your hypothesis was true and Sehun looked good in everything. With his dark hair and features a pop of colour looked great on him but so did muted colours. With his height, he could easily pull off the bad boy looks but put him in a pastel and the boyfriend look also worked. You'd finally narrowed it down to one last outfit but were still debating the top half. Sehun was in a red top which made his chest look amazing but you were trying to remain logical and the red wasn't working. You frowned "I'm not sure if it goes with your shoes...can you try it with the navy blue?" passing him the top and Sehun nodded "sure" and swiftly took off his top without a care in the world. You stepped back stunned and lowered your eyes. Baekhyun had been on his phone through the fitting but happened to look up when this happened. He immediately noticed your reaction and laughed to himself. Sehun obliviously pulled a shirt over his head and turned back to you "I like this one". You nodded smoothing it down with your lint roller "it clearly likes you too, this is the one. You're all done" you said. Sehun smiled "great! Thanks Y/n" and went to get changed. D.O. and Xuimin were also finished and the 4 of them left together. Baekhyun only lasted to the elevator before he burst. "So our stylist totally had a thing for you" Baekhyun said and Sehun paused "the cute new one?". "Y/n" D.O. said and Baekhyun nodded "yeah Y/n". Sehun smiled "how do you know?". "Her reaction when you took your shirt off. She was a mess". Sehun's smile grew "really?". "Don't" D.O. said and Sehun paused "don't what?". "Don't do whatever you're thinking, leave her be". "What if she'll like it?" he asked. D.O. sighed "don't tell me I don't want to be involved in any way". "Don't worry I won't" Sehun replied smiling "when's our next fitting?". The answer to that was 1 week later. Exo had a press event and you'd be there to ensure Sehun looked good both for the day event and for the award show afterwards. The second Sehun walked in he spotted you steaming some outfits and he smiled. You were really cute and as he checked you out he realised you were hot too. You had a good body and an air to you which Sehun liked. You were clearly good at your job and looked really cool in what you were wearing. He made his way over to you and you turned before jolting when you saw him. "Did I make you jump?" he asked smiling and you paused before nodding "just a bit, I've got both your outfits ready, we're going for the navy blue one for the daytime and for the award show I've got that white shirt with the suede look". Sehun nodded "whatever you want to put on me Y/n" and you blushed. That's how Sehun knew you were definitely into him and the fun began. He got through the first event and then when he came back into the changing room for the second one he started. He took the clothes you passed him into the dressing room and waited 2 minutes before calling you in. You were getting the accessories ready, debating a gold chain for Sehun or not when you heard a sigh come from inside Sehun's changing room. "Y/n can you come here and help me?" he called "but just you". "Just me?" you asked and he nodded "I'm a bit tangled so just step inside the curtain". You looked around unsure what to do but everyone else was focusing on something else so you did as he said. Sehun was in his underwear with his mic wire caught around him. "I figured I shouldn't put anything else on until I can get this off" he smiled at you. You blushed and averted your eyes, looking down which made Sehun smile. He hadn't noticed it the first time but Baekhyun was right! You were totally blushing and couldn't seem to bring yourself to look up. "Y/n?" he asked and you nodded "yeah I can sort it, how did it get so tangled?". "No idea" Sehun said pretending like he didn't spend 5 minutes doing it to himself. You hesitated "can I unclip your mic pack?" which was on his boxers. He nodded "sure want some help?" and turned to face you making you blush at how close to his bare chest he was. Given the height difference, you were inches away from his pecks too. "No it's fine!" you said and quickly, hardly touching him, unclipped it. Then you began to unwind the wire and did it so carefully not to brush him with your hands. "You don't have to be so gentle" Sehun smiled "I promise I'm not fragile, you can touch me". His words made you blush and you couldn't disguise your flustered response. "It's okay" was all you managed and finished taking the microphone wire from around Sehun's neck. Sehun smiled at you as you did it and kept eye contact. "Thanks Y/n you're amazing". "No problem" you said and went to leave when Sehun kept talking. "I have a question about this" he said pointing to the shirt you'd given him. You nodded trying to act like he wasn't almost naked. "Yeah so which order did you want the clothes in again.". You explained he should put on the vest then the shirt and finally the jacket. He nodded "a lot of layers, anyone would think you like covering me up" and he stretched his arms behind his head exposing more of his chest. You shook your head "no it's just a winter concept" "oh good so are there any hot summer ones?" he asked "maybe I can go like this, what do you think?" he asked gesturing to himself. You blushed and Sehun smiled "Y/n you're not looking". "I am" you argued very focused on his face and Sehun smirked "yeah but not at the rest of me, you need to look to work out if summer looks would work on me. It's okay, inspect me". His eyebrow rose as he said that and you got the feeling he was enjoying this. So trying to remain professional, you looked at Sehun's body from the bottom to the top and ignored the look on his face. "You look very good" you nodded and Sehun smiled "you think so?". You nodded "yes" and Sehun noticed you swallow. "You seem tense" he said laying a hand on your arm and then he moved it to your forehead brushing your cheek with his fingers "why is that?". You blushed "I'm not sure?". "Really?" he asked "I don't think you're telling the truth" and you blushed even more. You sent to speak when a voice called "Y/n where are you?". Your boss. You blushed "I have to go" and stepped out of the curtain. Sehun wished he just got 1 more minute with you then he'd have gotten you to crack and the fun stuff would've started but it was okay. He'd find another time. Now he knew you were into him, he'd stop at nothing to seduce you.

He told his members as much on their way home and some were shocked having not heard this before. "You like your stylist?" Suho asked and Sehun nodded "she's really attractive and totally had a thing for me". "How do you know?" Xiumin asked and Baekhyun smiled "because her eyes nearly popped out of her head seeing Sehun topless". Sehun smiled "and I did more tonight and she was like putty in my hands". "What do you mean you did more tonight?" Chen asked and Sehun grinned "I got her to come help take my mic pack off, in just my boxers". "You did what!" Suho cried and the guys were a mix of mortified and amused at Sehun's nerve. "In the room full of people?" Lay asked and Sehun nodded "yep and she was so close to cracking too. I got her to inspect me and tell me what she thought. The look on her face was so hot! We were inches apart and she wanted me so bad". Lay shook his head "you are brave, anyone could've walked in and caught you". "I know that's what made it so hot" he laughed but Xiumin shook his head "not really, you know Y/n would've been fired if you'd been caught right?". "What? No, I've got naked in front of plenty of stylists" Sehun said. "Wait what?" Kai asked but Suho sighed "Xiumin's right, any compromising position you two find yourself in Y/n will be blamed. You could cost her a job if you're not careful". "I'll be careful" Sehun said "but there's no way I'm giving up". Kai nodded "great now want to explain that whole naked with stylists thing?". Sehun shrugged "it's easier than getting changed behind a screen so if there's only a few of us I'll change in front of them". Baekhyun shook his head "you are a leaked photo waiting to happen" and Sehun shrugged "everyone's already seen that" making the guys laugh. "That might be true but save it for Y/n ey?" Baekhyun asked and Sehun nodded "good idea". So Sehun figured he couldn't get naked at work again. He didn't want the managers to think something was going on and fire you before he got to go out with you so he was more subtle. He flirted with you at work, made lots of eye contact and just tried to do everything to increase the budding sexual chemistry between you...then one day he was rewarded for all his hard work.  Through some asking around Sehun knew you lived near him but he had no idea how close until he turned down a side street to fix his sunglasses and saw you there. You were fiddling with a car he assumed to be yours and looked anxious. Sehun hopped out of his car and tried not to smile too much as he came over. "Everything okay?" he called and you looked over. You saw him and did a double take "Sehun...what are you doing here?". "I was on my way to work and spotted you. Turns out we're neighbours". You paused "oh really?". Sehun nodded "do you need a lift?". "It's okay I'm sure it will start soon" you said. "Are you sure?" he asked "I can take you it's no bother and you can call breakdown in the car. That way you won't be late". You paused looking at your watch and then at him "you don't mind?". He shook his head "not at all" and you nodded "okay yes please". Sehun practically beamed and led you to his car happily. A huge smile on his face as he opened his door for you. Sehun set off driving very excited to have you beside him in the car and was doing some chatting and flirting when you happened to mention the event where Sehun got you to help untangle him from his mic pack. It was too good an opportunity to pass so Sehun smiled. “Yeah it was a good event but I was annoyed when we got interrupted in the dressing room". He glanced over and saw you pause "you were? Why?".  "I felt like you were going to tell me something important". You were obviously less susceptible when Sehun was fully clothed because you laughed. "Was there something you wanted me to say?". Sehun loved your flirty tone and smiled looking at you "many many things Y/n but all in good time". You chuckled and Sehun looked over at you "I'm really glad you got transferred to me, gave me a reason to look forward to work". "What doing your passion for a wealthy living while wearing nice clothes and being surrounded by talented good looking idols wasn't enough?". Sehun shrugged "you're an added bonus but going back to that comment. You think my members are handsome?". You shrugged "yeah they all are". "But who do you think is the hottest?" Sehun asked. "I'm guessing there's only one right answer?" you asked and Sehun laughed "no answer honestly. I want to know who you're attracted to, if there are any guys that are your type". You'd done well to dodge his questions this far but realised now you were parked and Sehun with Sehun's gaze directly on you, there was truly only one name coming to mind.

"Probably you" you admitted and Sehun smiled "are you just saying that to please me?". You shook your head "no I think you're the hottest" and Sehun smiled "what a coincidence, I feel the same way about you". You blushed as he moved closer. "You know if your manager hadn't appeared I would've loved to kiss you that day" Sehun said. You blushed and he smiled "but maybe I can make up for it now...if you want me to?". You stared at him conflicted before nodding and Sehun moved in. Sehun moved quickly like someone who knew what he wanted and he set the pace from the start. He was very good and you quickly realised this was the smartest dumb decision you'd ever made. When Sehun's neck started hurting from bending over he asked if he could move you onto his lap and you agreed coming to straddle him. That drove Sehun crazy and he ran his hands up and down your waist and thighs while kissing you anywhere he could. You sighed when he got a sensitive part of your neck and Sehun paused. "The way you say my name is so hot" Sehun said and you blushed "it's just how I say your name" but he shook his head "no it isn't...you do a little moan when you say it and god I want to hear you do it more". You paused feeling very warm and were aware if Sehun kept talking like this you'd become very acquainted with one another very quickly. "Sehun I...maybe we should pause" you said and Sehun looked at you "you want to stop?". You shook your head "I don't want to but we're in the company car park anyone could walk past". Sehun paused before nodding "you're right, I can't get good movement in here and I want nothing stopping me with you". You blushed at how casually he said that and he smiled "so what are you doing after work?". You could see the want in his eyes and a thought occurred to you. He knew you were into him and purposefully stripped off to tease you, so some payback was due. "Hmmm I'll have to see, I might be busy tonight" you said and Sehun paused "busy?". You nodded "yeah I'm a popular girl Sehun but thanks for the lift" and with a kiss to his lips, you climbed off him and got out of the car. Sehun lay back in his seat very frustrated and confused but more convinced than ever that he wanted you...and that he'd get you.   Sehun came in a little later and his members all gave him grief for being late and got on with rehearsal. "Why were you late?" Chanyeol asked and Sehun smiled "Y/n's car broke down so I bought her into work and we got distracted". The guys all looked at him and D.O. paused "you didn't". "We made out" Sehun smiled "and man she was so good!". The guys all laughed and Kai shook his head "I'm surprised you made it in at all". Sehun shrugged "well I nearly didn't but Y/n stopped me and erm kinda left me in the middle of it". The guys laughed "ahhh so that's why you look so moody!" Chen said and Sehun frowned "I asked her if we could finish it after work and she said she might be busy with this beautiful smirk. She's teasing me now!". "Well you can't say it isn't deserved" Lay said and the others all agreed, making Sehun pout until Baekhyun suggested "if she's teasing you why don't you just do the same thing?". "What?" Sehun asked and Baekhyun smiled "you know she likes you and she works here so go find her and tease her back. It's a game of chicken and I don't think you can outlast her but go remind her what she liked about you in the first place". "But what if someone catches them?" Suho asked and Baekhyun shook his head "I'm not telling him to go sleep with her! Just flirt and drive her a little crazy". Sehun loved that idea and was out of the door before Suho could even remind him he'd done zero rehearsing. Sehun headed downstairs to the costume department and knocked before entering. "Hey" he said waving to your boss who was standing in the middle of the room. You were in the back behind her and the look on your face when you spotted him was beautiful. "I had some free time and thought I'd hang out up here if that's okay?". Your boss paused before nodding "of course Sehun but isn't there anywhere else you'd rather be?". He made eye contact with you behind her and shook his head "no, I've always been interested in this and thought I might learn a thing or two from Y/n. If she doesn't mind me watching". "No of course not, do you?" your boss asked and you shook your head "not at all" and turned back to what you were doing. Sehun came to stand behind you. Close enough that you could feel his presence but not so close that it would look odd to anyone. Sehun stayed close behind you in silence for a few seconds before speaking. "Who are you styling this outfit for?" Sehun asked and you paused "a member of NCT". "Cool... which one?" he asked. "Yuta" you said and Sehun paused looking at it "that's a lot of exposed skin...are you into Yuta too?". "Too?" you whispered, "who said I'm into anyone?". "Your panting in my car when I ran my hands up and down you" Sehun said making your stomach clench "but you didn't answer my question". "Yuta is very fashionable and easy to style" you said "but no I'm not into him". Sehun smiled "why do you never put me in stuff like this?" leaning over you to touch the material "I know you'd love it". You swallowed "I don't know..." and Sehun smiled "or maybe you want the first time you see me like this to be where we're alone? Then again you have already seen me naked". "I haven't seen you naked you had underwear on" you said and Sehun smiled "yeah but they didn't leave much to the imagination and I saw you looking...you don't have to imagine you know. I can show you very easily". You stepped away and moved to the accessories and Sehun followed. "So that's why you followed me? To get me to sleep with you?". Sehun shook his head "I merely came here to show you I want you and can play seductress too. I know you want me and wondered if you wanted to call a truce yet?". "Hmm not quite yet" you said and turned back to the mannequin. "Fine by me" Sehun said "but you'll be seeing a lot more of me...unless you want me to leave and never bother you again?”. You paused as Sehun stared at you and couldn't bring yourself to say some witty remark. So you just looked down, shaking your head and Sehun smiled "see you very soon beautiful" and he walked out of the room. Even after he'd left your heart was still hammering and your hands were shaking...but you also felt so excited and turned on. You had no idea what you'd gotten yourself into but couldn't wait to find out.

Okay but I genuinely think Sehun is one of the hottest idols in the industry, he’s just so naturally beautiful it’s no wonder he got discovered!

So because I couldn’t cope with Sehun’s hotness this will be a longer series with four parts and they will be released weekly. 

Other Parts: Part Two, Part Three and Part Four

[slashingdisneypasta]

Evil Queen / Hag x Reader || Excerpt

Plot: 🧫🧪 The scene where she cooks up the potion 🧫🧪 and transforms into a Hag 🧫🧪 *just something quick while I'm watching OUAT!

Warnings: Her ugliness 😂

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , @ryantryan6969 and @spookiifi . I hope you like this! ^^ xo

You're sat on Hilda's work bench in a spot free of dusty books and dangerous vials as she potters around. Well, more than potters. She's very busy, creating a drink that would make her a hag; make her unassuming, and unrecognisable.

When she told you that this was her plan, that she would go to Snow in the woods and treat her with a special apple... you were sad, because an innocent girl would die and there was nothing you could do about it (opposing the Queen is never was wise, not even for her love. You're always half afraid that she'll throw you away, no matter how many times she proves that you matter), but you were also excited. Callous, you're aware. But you loved to watch her in her true element. Watching her at her dressing table was one thing, but this? Hidden away in the grotty, lonely dungeons she barely uses because she rathers executions (Loose ends... she always says); This was your favourite.

Thick dust flies off of her spell book (From the others, not from it) when she pulls it out of the shelf and her fingers run smoothly over the crisp pages, her poisonous eyes gliding over the words she's already so familiar with. You know that she's combed through these pages before a million times; It's her before bed book, it's her breakfast book, it's the book she obsesses over for days on end and writes notes upon notes about. The potion she cooks boils and bubbles and changes colour and the smell burns your nostrils, but she doesn't flinch.

You love to see her here. She's beautiful and she thinks it's the most important thing about her... but it's not. This is what makes her amazing; makes her set your blood on fire when you think about her.

As she takes a sip of the drink, under the light of the moon slipping in through the bars in the tiny window here, you watch her beauty dissapear. It's torn from her, by her own hand, and your love doesn't flicker for a second.

Hilda's lovely black hair turns grey and splits at the ends, her cute little nose grows out from her face and develops a curve as well as nasty boils, her fingernails grow and turn yellow and chip, her fine clothes wither away to rags and the skin left on her bone's sag. Once it's all complete, leaving Hilda a weathered and beaten old hag, she takes a moment to 'admire' herself.

"I'm a worthless, ugly old crone!" With a delighted cackle, fully amused by her new look and taking pride in her magic, Hilda turns to you with those new deep-set, harrowing bug-eyes. She points a knobbly finger your way, an unkept nail almost scraping your cheek. "And you, dear- tell me, how do I look? Beautiful, hm?... "

... staring into that wrinkled old face and the smile there which is almost toothless, your grin twists downwards, a filthy taste on you tongue. "... love, you're positively gruesome."

"Agh- " She clutches her chest, and takes a moment to breath. You know that everything in her is at odds - her need to be fair and her desire to excel in her chosen profficiency, - , hearing a statement like that- especially from you. It's a small betrayal. "... painful to hear, but for my purpose today; perfect."

"Thats my girl."

... here, Hilda rolls her terrifying eyes at you. She gives a 'puh' sound, shakes her head, and shuffles off to prepare Snow's 'treat'.

She picks out a round, yellowing apple - mkdway between ripe and moulding, - and ties a strand of string around the stem. Then she dips it into a bubbling green couldron thay looks like if you stood too close, your eyeballs might burst directly inside their sockets. It sizzles and fizzles, and dissapears.

The most beautiful apple, round and ruby red, surely juicy with an excellent and crisp crunch... and extra zing... comes out.

"Mm," Your mouth waters just looking at it, but you straighten up in an effort to not get any closer to it. "Uh, looks delicious.

"Oh it will be- just not for long." You watch the woman hobble right past you then, almost tripping on her shroud. "I'm off to poison a princess!!~ " She sings, her voice a freaky, shrill sound and giggling as she places the fruit in a basket. "Hehehe!~ "

Lord, she reminds you of Rumplestiltskin right now. Instead of telling her that though, you go with an old faithful. "Love you, darling~ "

"Yes, whatever!"

[fancylala4]

Honestly, when I think about it, I kinda find Gothel prettier than Rapunzel. Mainly because she looks more like a real person with real, non-infantilized proportions(with limits, that is, this is a Disney cartoon, after all). While Rapunzel looks like a fucking baby stretched out to be the height of a teenager, not even that, but a preteen! And also because she has curly black hair, which I do too, so I find that really nice. Lastly, I feel like her color palette works better than Rapunzel’s, even though pink and purple are my favorite colors. The wine red looks very nice on her. However, I will admit that I am sort of hesitant to say this stuff because at the end of the day, Gothel is still an anti-Semitic caricature. Her Jewish features are there to remind the audience that she is evil. Not to make her more attractive, as opposed to Rapunzel and her button nose and long, straight, blonde hair(and for that matter, as a curly black-haired girlie, I HATE how the movie used curly black hair as a sign of villainy, deception, and evil and straight blonde hair as a sign of beauty, goodness, innocence, and magic, because holy fucking shit what the HECK were the writers thinking. Oh wait, never mind, I already know.) And in addition, most people who find Mother Gothel attractive sexualize her to hell and back, and that makes me very uncomfortable, whether she is a racist caricature or not. Not a fan. 🤮

I agree. I always thought that gothel looked better than rapunzel. Rapunzel’s design is so ugly to me. Her bug eyes, her very small waist and her big her head compared to the rest of her small body is not appealing to me. I also found the pink and purple color palette of her outfit to be so ugly and all over the place (even though purple is my favorite color). They ripped off Barbie as rapunzel’s dress but made it even more childlike and generic to appeal to young girls. Her design in the movie looks even worse now because the movie aged like milk. Rapunzel’s design looks way better hand drawn imo. At least gothel’s body looks like it belongs to a real life person and I found her to be pretty(even though she looks like and is a antisemitic caricature).

It’s just so depressing to me that they changed her original design from a white woman into a antisemitic caricature. Her original design looks nothing like that and she actually looked scary there. Even the original idea was that she looked like a normal and loving mother who would show her true colors through out the movie or so I heard. Just seeing that concept art of her taking rapunzel by force after rapunzel found out the truth about her looks so good. Then the writers just decided it would be easier to make her a caricature to show the difference between white rapunzel and her. They also thought her design should also be overly sexual to show how “pure and innocent” rapunzel and her mom look in comparison. It’s so disgusting. Whose bright idea was it to put this ageist, sexist and antisemitic shit in a Disney princess movie? I guess the same people who thought it would be best to release this movie one year after their first black princess movie.

What you said was so true. The curly hair being seen as bad to compared to the long blonde magical hair. Hell, even the decision to have rapunzel’s hair turn to brown after it was cut to show it lost its magic were all awful decisions. It’s like this movie was written in the 50s or something.

people who sexualize gothel are so weird. I don’t understand why people are like “she is so hot” towards people who have valid issues with her. It’s like they think it’s a compliment when it’s not.

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @g0dspeeed <3 | Tagging @josephseedismyfather @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @neonneurons @dumbassdep @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @voidika @harmonyowl @v0idbuggy @strangefable @schoute @jacobsneed @strafethesesinners and anyone with something to share ❤️

This midweek you're getting more of Jacob x Mercedes, the snippet is on the longer side (but like I don't want to leave you all on a cliffy like with the last "last line tag post") and things are definitely picking up, folks. Beware it gets NSFW towards the end. :D

"Bambi?", Mercedes shot a dark look at the now closed door of Jacob's office, "Bambi.", she shook her head and let out a bitter laugh. You truly have no idea, Jacob Seed. The last couple of minutes were a true testament of her ability to stay in character and not come out swinging the second he had started barking orders at her like she was one of his unfortunate subordinates or worse, an animal he was trying to tame. "Bambi.", she repeated again and bit her lip as she went around the desk and sat down in his chair. You're so lucky I didn't shove my fist so far up your clueless ass you would have seen stars. Intrusive thoughts about inflicting different level of violence upon his person had popped up in her mind anytime Jacob had opened his mouth to speak during their confrontation about her leaving the region. She had no idea why he seemed to enjoy pushing her around so much, but he was in for quite the rude awakening if he expected her to just run back to Joseph and abandon the task and chance at helping the opposing Militia. "The enemy of my enemy shall be my friend.", she whispered as she scanned over the plans laid out in front of her carefully, memorizing anything that could be of assistance at doing damage to the Project. One name repeated over and over in the notes, almost bordering obsession and she suspected the man was just the one she needed to find. "Eli. Eli. I feel like we can help each other." I will be the snake in your brother's garden. The wolf roaming among your sheep, Jacob. Not Bambi.

Mercedes hoped the Deputy that was brave enough to make a run for it would manage to escape despite Jacob's strong confiction he wouldn't. In ways she felt guilty for dragging the man and his colleagues into the mess. After going over anything available on top of the desk, she moved onto its drawers. Locked. Of course. She kept an eye on the door as she reached into her hair and pulled out one of the bobby pins from her braid, getting to work on lockpicking the top drawer. Her gaze narrowed in confusion the second she pulled it open and was greeted by emptiness aside from a small wooden box. She picked it up with curiousity and opened the lid, scanning over the letters engraved on the inside, "Only you? A music box out of everything, Jacob?" Mercedes returned the box back in its place and shut the drawer, double checking it's locked again before moving onto the rest. The discovery was more like what she had expected to come across: files of Hope County residents, most marked as "failure" with a red stamp. She quickly flipped through the folders without pulling any out, knowing there were way too many to go over when she had no idea when Jacob or any of his men would return to check on her. After locking all drawers again and making sure nothing was out of place, she leaned back in the chair with a sign, "Slow progress. Oh, how I hate you."

[one radio call with Joseph later; where he insists she must stay in the Whitetails and be his eyes.]

Hours passed without anyone appearing or even passing by the office door, the building remained quiet as the light outside began to dim. She was starting to wonder if Jacob hadn't decided to not return to the Vet Center at all, hoping she would take the hint and leave after his less than warm welcome. Mercedes lost count how many times she spun around in his chair as she contemplated her life choices and imagining where she would have been at that moment had she not gone after Joseph Seed at all. Probably at some unjustifiably expensive restaurant with a target, hanging onto my every word.Fuck, sure can use some food by now… Another spin paired with regrets and boredom had her staring at the peeling paint on the wall behind her and when she turned again instead of finding the office vacant, angry blue eyes met hers. Sneaking up on me, are we? "You're still here.", Jacob stated the obvious as he stopped in her earlier position at the desk, their roles reversed, no matter how temporary. A smile broke across her face, Mercy coming out to play, "No place I would rather be." Many places I'd rather be, in fact.Anywhere with a more enjoyable company preferably.A bath would be nice, too, doesn't even have to be fancy.

"You called my brother.", he muttered in annoyance as he wiped his brow, smudging blood across his skin and making Mercedes realize his hands were stained crimson. Are you badly injured, Deputy? Is it my fault? "You should have left hours ago. I have to warn you, I don't take lightly to anyone disregarding my authority. Let alone to you making yourself at home in my chair, spinning around in it like a child." So did many control obsessed men before you, honey. Then they realized I do as I please. Most found themselves beneath me or chasing after me, begging for mercy at the end. Ironic, I know. "I answer to Joseph, not you. The sooner you accept that, the less times your blood pressure would rise.", she said, not letting her smile waiver even for a breath as she got up and rounded the desk to stand in front of him. Mercedes licked her thumb and brought it to his forehead, cleaning off the blood when she added, "You have to watch your heart at your age." "What do you think you're doing exactly?", his hand shot out, grabbing her wrist before it could retreat, "And you did not just dare to call me old." She tried to pull her arm free, but Jacob's grip only tightened as a result, "A joke, Jacob, I assume you know what that is. As for what I was doing… you had something on your face, so you're welcome." A strange expression came over his features when he replied, "I didn't expect to have it in you to crack a joke, Mercedes." One of her shoulders quirked up, "Not like you have spent any time trying to talk to me since we've met. How would you know what I'm like?"

All she got from him was silence. The air grew heavy with tension as his eyes ran over her face, hand still gripping hers, his body rigid. Minutes that felt like forever rolled by, and she did her best to keep her breathing steady as goosebumps covered her exposed flesh. She wondered if she would end up slammed into a wall and what would follow. His look tells me that he'd either kiss me senseless or choke the life out of me. Neither outcome very high on my list, thank you. Her back didn't meet the wall behind her, instead he swiftly pulled at her hand and dragged her out of the room without a single word. Jacob took quick, long strides over the hallways, forcing her to jog in order to keep up with him, her flats slipping on the worn-out tiles. His men watched, heads bowed down, trying their hardest to appear disinterested in what their boss was doing. "Jacob?", she uttered out in confusion, refusing to let go of Mercy's sweet and naive persona. In reality she suspected that at some point in the quiet moments back in his office, he had realized she wouldn't be leaving on her own accord, and was set on personally throwing her out, having decided he's done dealing with her. In seconds, he was at the front entrance of the Center, pushing the doors open and heading with determination past all the rolls of cages towards a white pick-up truck marked with a familiar cross. Yes, sending me packing, alright. When they reached the vehicle, Jacob finally let go of her wrist as he went to grab her bag from the car she had driven there. Her eyes shifted between her forearm, where the outline of his fingers was now imprinted in crimson, and the sun setting against the darkening sky. The loud slamming of the car's trunk brought her attention back to him and she watched him toss her luggage in the back of the truck and round the front without a single look in her direction.

"Get in, Mercedes.", he ordered as he threw his door open and climbed in. Mercedes reluctantly walked over to the passenger's side and bent down to speak through the open window just as a wolf howl sounded somewhere in the distance, making her tense up, "I told you that I'm not leaving. Joseph-" His cold eyes finally veered at her, "I said, get in. Or do I have to come out and make you?" Are we sure John is the one with anger issues? All she could do was sigh in defeat as her fingers found the handle of the door and swung it open. She hauled her body inside as her mind struggled to accept the fact she had failed, that coercing him into letting her stay had proven to be an impossible task after all. The minute she was buckled in, he started the truck, keeping his gaze glued to the road as he drove away from St. Francis. "I don't need you driving me.", she said softly, already dreading the idea that she would be stuck in the same tiny space with him, having to tolerate his glowering all the way back to Joseph's Compound. Even she had her limits. His head swiveled sharply, blue eyes meeting hers, when he gritted out, "Do you want to sleep in one of the cages back at the center, sweetheart… or are you going to shut your mouth and stop complaining before I change my mind about letting you stay?" Mercedes blinked in shock, certain she had heard him wrong. "Stay?", she said slowly. His hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles turning white, the blood that covered them was all dried up by then, "Yes. You called my brother. You have him to thank for that." She bit her lip, looking out of the window as the truck went over a small bridge, the river below it dark and unwelcoming, yet still promising her freedom.

"Where are you taking me, though?", she asked, wrapping her hands around herself, wondering if she had missed an opportunity to jump to safety especially after his cage comment. His surly demeanor foretold of nothing but trouble. She was certain Jacob wasn't going to grace her with an answer, then he suddenly broke the silence, saying simply, "A cabin. Should be empty." Without giving her a chance to reply, he reached out and turned on the radio, muttering, "No more chit-chat, keep quiet. We're not suddenly friends because Joseph managed to convince me to tolerate your presence here." Mercedes nodded absently and leaned back in her seat, watching the dark road ahead. After a while he spoke up again, "Look at that. You're actually listening for once." From the corner of her eye she could see his lips twist into a small smile and she wondered if he expected her to respond, or he was testing her, hoping she'd give him another excuse to lash out at her. Eventually, he parked the truck in front of a small unlit cabin that would have been completely hard to spot if it wasn't for the headlights that casted light upon it.

She opened the passenger side door, shivering against the change of temperature the moment she exited the vehicle. She quickly grabbed her bag just as Jacob called out, "Where do you think you're going?" "Thank you for the ride, Jacob. Have yourself a good night.", she retorted, not bothering to turn around and entertain another argument that would keep him from driving off. She followed the path to the front door of the house as she heard his door slam shut, then footsteps stalking her way. Fucking hell. You're really asking to be kicked in the balls now. "Mercedes.", he grunted out. "What?", a hand wrapped around her upper arm, pulling her to a stop. His tone told her that irritated Jacob was making a return, "I said the house should be empty, would be smart if you don't go storming it before I've had time to make sure it's actually safe to enter." "I don't need your help.", Mercedes shook off his hold and continued down the walkway. "Do you even know how to use a gun, sweetheart? Any basic combat? Hell, can you even throw a punch properly?", he chided, his usage of the term of endearment dripping with sarcasm. "No, and no. But we could always test the punching part out if you insist, then tell me how I've done afterwards. I know you love training people.", she was tired of his constant belittling and let the last part slip without worrying too much about how unlike Mercy it was. Yes to all three, actually. And don't expect me to worry about your pretty face. But she knew it was better if the Seeds believed she was helpless, naive, too oblivious to be up to anything, let alone be planning their demise right under their noses. It was a target's most common mistake: underestimating her, it's how she always remained hidden in plain sight, and by the time they would realize the critical lapse of judgment, she was always long gone.

"Babysitting.", Jacob muttered under his breath as he pulled out a gun from his leg holster and pushed the front door open, "Wait here. I mean it." The lights inside the house turned on one by one, illuminating the outside with a faint glow. "Cabin's clear.", he declared as he stepped out on the porch. "Goodnight then.", Mercedes went around him, dropping her bag on the floor as she slammed the door shut in his face and leaned against it. A knock sounded immediately from the other side, his voice muffled when he announced, "I'm not leaving." "What?", came out as a squeak, and she hated how for once the reaction was actually real: she fully had expected him to be gone before she had even crossed over the threshold. "The Militia has eyes everywhere, so by now, they would know of your arrival. If you don't want to wake up tied to a chair in some make-shift interrogation room, you'd let me in." "What are you, a vampire?", she said quietly, frowning at the idea he was still there and supposedly was planning to spend the night under the same roof as her. "What did you say? Kinda hard to hear you with, you know, a door between us, sweetheart.", he was back to sounding amused, and when he got nothing out of her, he knocked again but way louder, making her jump, "Joseph's orders, Mercedes. Open the damn door, if you don't want me gaining entry in a less pleasant way." She cracked open the door slowly, sending him a look of distrust, "He said nothing of that sort to me." "Well, he did, to me. Called me in the middle of hunting down my runner. Said I've been mistreating you. Scolded me like I'm a child, not his older brother.", he scoffed, his face bearing an arcane expression when he added, "Want to know what else he said?" She fought back a smile at the idea Jacob had been knocked down a peg, no matter by whom. "No." He pushed past her inside, "Might be for the best, actually." Talk about foreboding.

With a huff she headed down the hallway after him and found herself standing in a small living room. The freamed pictures of a young couple reminded her the cabin was someone's treasured home that the Project had forcibly taken away, and judging by the lack of dust, it hadn't happened very long ago either. Jacob didn't bat an eye at the sight, sitting down on the couch with an arm thrown over the back of it as he continued, "The fact of the matter is, Joseph decided it would be smart to have someone keeping an eye out for you during your stay. Said I should personally see you settled in." She knew that having someone around to keep tabs on her and make sure she wouldn't run into the Militia was certainly bound to make her task of finding a way to run into them more difficult. "I thought you didn't want to 'babysit'?", she narrowed her eyes, remaining standing in the doorway. "Trust me, I don't. Don't go believing this would turn into a regular thing, I'm staying here only for tonight. So don't get any ideas." I will be sobbing into my pillow every night, Jacob. What shall this damsel do without a petulant ginger to protect her… More silence filled the room until he said, "You know, for someone that always tries to make conversation with anyone, you sure are awfully quiet out of a sudden." "You made it very clear I'm unwelcome here and that you dislike me. From day one, if I may add. I've made my peace with it, so enjoy the silence. Isn't that what you wanted after all?", she replied and grabbed her bag from the hallway, dropping it in the bedroom. She could foresee him complaining about the possible sleep arrangements, but if he had a problem with the couch, he could always sleep outside as alternative.

The lack of blood and no noticeable signs of struggle around the house gave her hope that maybe the two people that used to live there had made it out unscathed, she wanted to wholeheartedly believe that was the case. Mercedes kept to herself and made it her mission to ignore her moody chaperone as she washed her hands in the kitchen. She scrubbed at the bloody fingerprints he had left on her skin, wanting to get rid of the reminder she had no idea what had happened with the Deputy. She knew she potentially had a way to get an answer, but she refused to risk arousing suspicion by asking his captor about it. "Know how to start a fire?", Jacob chirped from the living room, still lounging back on the couch. "No." Yes. "Want me to teach you?", his cordial tone wasn't something she was used to. "Why are you acting all nice to me out of a sudden?" "What would you rather I do then, Mercedes? Figured the night would pass by easier that way.", she could feel his stare on her as she kept her back to him, opening and closing cupboards until she found a glass to pour herself some water into. "You don't have to sleep here. If you're worried I will tell Joseph… don't and just be on your way already." "I'm staying. You still didn't answer my question. Do you want me to teach you?" She moved onto the fridge next, finding it almost empty as expected, "Nothing edible in the fridge, Jacob. If you don't want ketchup for dinner, that is." "Check the pantry, most folks around here are preppers one way or another.", he explained, coming from behind her and opening the door to the small pantry himself before she even had a chance to, "Here."

He pulled out a couple of cans, leaving them on the counter as she took a generous sip of water, wishing it was alcohol instead. Sure as hell would make my charming companion seem more tolerable. "And if they had nothing stashed away, what was the plan then?" He raised an eyebrow, "Catch us some dinner." "I'm a vegetarian." It was another lie, but she had no desire to watch him play caveman, not if she was to keep her appetite after the things she had witnessed at St. Francis. "Are you now?" "You have a problem with that, too?" Jacob shrugged, "It's nature. We all have a spot on the food chain." "Whatever you say." "You don't agree?" Mercedes waved a hand in his direction, "I just have no energy for all this." When he went to open one of the cans, she moved over to where he was standing and grabbed it before saying, "Are you not even going to wash up first?" He looked down as if realizing for the first time the actual state of his hands. "Sorry.", he muttered and moved to the sink. The quiet apology took her by surprise, but she didn't let that show when she asked, "You hadn't even realized your hands were bloody?" "When you do this every day, it becomes a habit, a part of you, you stop paying attention because it doesn't look unnatural.", he uttered out over the running water, "We all have a role to play." "What's that supposed to mean, Jacob?", she certainly didn't like his clipped tone.

After methodically drying off his hands in silence, Jacob turned with another dark stare, pointed her way, "I cull the herd. Get my hands dirty for the Project. You play dress-up as my sister's double to keep my brother company." "I'm doing no such thing." "No?", he smirked, "You have no idea about my brother's plan for you, do you?" She had her suspicions, but the fact he was close to voicing his and had such a reaction piqued her interest. "What are you talking about?", she blinked in confusion, letting worry seep into the question. He shook his head, deciding against saying anything else as he opened the can and dumped the contents into a pan she had pulled out, "Doesn't matter. We all have our roles, sweetheart, it just takes time to realize what they are. You, too, would, eventually." In a couple of minutes, Mercedes found herself sitting across from Jacob at the small kitchen table that accentuated his towering presence even more. She stared down at her bowl, feeling disappointment at the fact that in less than a few hours, she would have been in Hope County for 388 days, and she was nowhere close to seeing an end to her mission. Jacob was right about her having a role to play, but he was dead wrong about who she played. He finished his meal first, getting up quietly and heading off into the hallway after dropping his plate in the sink. A part of her hoped he would just up and leave, not matter if it disobeyed Joseph's orders.

Done with her own dinner, she took a seat in an armchair next to the couch, and to her dismay, he returned shortly, carrying a couple of pieces of firewood inside. He kneeled down in front of the fireplace, mumbling, "So, have you changed your mind about me teaching you how to start a fire, yet?" "No." "Why?" "Because." Because your friendliness is forced. Because you're only being nice after getting scolded by Joseph and being offered some cryptic revelation about me. Because I'd rather keep my distance for so many reasons. He shook his head at her nonanswer, patting the empty space on the carpet next to him, "Come on, Mercedes." "No, thank you." "You'd certainly regret declining that lesson in the winter months… if you even make it that long in the Whitetails, that is.", he said, not bothering to mask the jab. "You're the survival expert, right? So do it yourself." "You owe me for destroying my poster. Humor me, and I will overlook the transgression." She shook her head, "I did no such thing, I told you already. I'm staring to wonder if there ever was one in your office or you're making it up so you have something to hold over my head." His eyes narrowed, "You're lying. We both know there was one." "Am not." "Come over, already. We can argue the whole night or get the cabin warmed up."

Mercedes got up with a sigh, shuffling over to him before she knelt down, and grumbled, "I still don't understand why you insist on it. If you expect I'd be praising your efforts to play nice to Joseph… that won't be happening." He ignored her words, slipping into explaining the basics she knew by heart, "First, you check the damper if you don't want all the smoke coming into the house." She nodded along with enthusiasm, urging him to continue, "Two pieces of firewood.", he picked them up from the floor and placed them on the grate of the fireplace before crumpling some newspaper, "Tinder. Then kindling on top. Some more firewood. And then…" Jacob reached inside his shirt's pocket, taking out a matchbox and passing it over to her, "…you light it." His fingers brushed against hers, and she tried to ignore his intense stare as she removed a match and struck it, wasting no time in starting the fire. His 'lesson' being officially over meant he would finally leave her in peace. Or one can only hope. "There. Done.", she muttered, and turned to face him, "I'm off to bed. Goodnight." as the words left her, his hand grabbed her cheek, the pure shock stopping her from getting up. "What are you doing?", she asked in a shaky voice, telling herself it was acting, and his touch wasn't actually throwing her off-kilter. "Something I definitely shouldn't be doing.", he gritted out before clashing his mouth to hers.

Alarm bells sounded in her head. This is beyond disastrous. Push him away. You're signing your death warrant. His fingers slipped into her hair, tangling in the curls and holding her close as his tongue parted her lips, and he let out an animalistic groan the second it met with her own. The scent of the burning embers in the fire mixed with his own fragrance, completely overwhelming her senses and causing the desire that had taken over her system the second his mouth had covered hers to deepen. Mercedes finally gathered the willpower to push at his chest and break the kiss, whispering, "We can't-", she shook her head to stress her point, not sure who she was reminding of the whole thing being a bad idea. Her body certainly had missed the memo, if she was to judge by the arousal that was pooling between her legs. "There are rules, Jacob. Especially-" "I won't tell if you don't.", Jacob said as if it was that simple, surprisingly looking almost as shaken up as she was. "You're lying. Did he put you up to this? To what…test me? Or are you having a laugh at my expense, seeing if I'm easy to tempt, then unleash John on me as payback?" "No.", he uttered out sharply, "It's nothing like that. And trust me, Joseph has nothing to do with this. We both know he would never suggest-" "Swear it." She had gone so long pretending to be someone she's not, feeling under constant surveillance at the Compound, having to follow Joseph's rules and act like she was smitten by his holier-than-thou persona. She craved a small win, to take something for herself, to get even an hour back into her old life. None of that seems feasible… so an orgasm wouldn't be bad, either. What a better "fuck you" to the Father than… fucking his brother?

Amusement flashed across his features, but it didn't get rid of the lust swimming in his blue depths or the frown he wore at her accusations, "I swear it. Are you going to make me do a pinky promise, sweetheart?" "Very funny. What if I do?", she reached out her pinkie as a joke, expecting he wouldn't entertain the idea, instead he wrapped his around it without even batting an eye. "There. Do you believe me now?" Mercedes had met many liars, she herself had become one for living, so she knew how to read people and what to look for, her eyes were trained to notice even the smallest tell in her opponents. In that moment, she couldn't see any signs Jacob was lying, and deep down she just didn't care. She nodded, and it was all the motivation he needed to pull her in for a second kiss, arms grabbing her waist and hoisting her onto his lap. His mouth glided over her cheek and down her neck, beard scratching her skin as he pushed the dress strap out of the way to nip at her shoulder. "Jacob", she hummed his name, and he got up. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his midriff as he strode in the direction of the bedroom, kicking the door open. Before she could blink, he deposited her on the bed, and she leaned back on her elbows, watching him as he hungrily stared down at the spot where her dress had ridden up and exposed her thigh.

"If we're gonna do this…", he paused, head swiveling in search for something, "I probably need to turn off the lights." Mercedes sent him a determined look, "No. I want to be able to see you. See us." We're not fucking in the dark, for fuck's sake. "I'm telling you, you don't." "I absolutely do." "Mercedes.", he held out his hand, palm running over the scars on his forearm, "You see this… they don't stop at my hands." "Clothes off, Jacob. Now." Her tone shifted as the Mercy act slipped completely, and if he noticed, he chose to ignore it. His blue eyes narrowed in uncertainty, making her nod, then repeat, "Clothes off. Want me to do it for you?" "Yes." Mercedes rose up on her knees, fingers taking hold of his camo shirt and stripping it off his body. She grabbed the hem of his short sleeved shirt next and lifted it up over his head, unveiling series of scars and burns across his skin. "Told you.", Jacob replied with a frown. "Come here. All I see is a survivor. Do you think these are going to stop me from wanting you?", she placed a kiss above his heart before her fingers locked at his neck, pulling him down on top of her. For a second, she was staring past the defenses of the man that barked orders at everyone and tried his hardest to keep the world at arm's length, and it made her heart ache. "You gonna get me out of this dress?", she asked, cradling him between her thighs as he finally snapped out of his stupor.

His hands reached around, looking for a way to undo the dress as his lips found hers for another feverish kiss and he let out a growl in frustration, moving back to whisper, "I can't find the damn zipper." "It's there. It's small-" "Do you love this dress?", he asked impatiently. "I can unzip it myself, just-", she stopped, blinking in confusion at the strange question, "Wait, what-" "Do you?" "Not really. No." Hate it actually, and the fact it seems to be your brother's favorite. "Good. Turn around." "Jacob?" "Do you trust me, sweetheart?" Not as far as I can throw you. Probably even less. "I guess?" "Turn around." She complied and swirled, staying on her knees with her back to him, and the next thing she felt was something cold touching her skin before he ordered sternly, "Keep still." Her brain registered what it was: the blunt end of a knife, inches apart from her spine. What the fuck. Then the tightness of the bodice gave way, as he cut the dress open all the way and sheathed the knife. "All done.", he stated in a calm tone, like he hadn't just brandished a weapon in bed after being too annoyed to look for a zipper. "I can't believe you pulled out a knife." "Got the job done, didn't it?"

His fingers moved the straps off her shoulders, the garment pooling on the bed and leaving her down to her underwear. She spun around to find him staring at her intently, blue eyes running over her body as if searching for something. An unreadable expression came over his face before he guessed, "You haven't been in John's chair, yet." I will be gone the second Joseph decides the time for me to confess has come. Shockingly enough, I draw the line at body mutilation. I'd prefer to avoid having to explain why I have sins engraved into my skin to whoever would be my next target. "No." His gaze darkened, "Just what I suspected." "What do you mean?" Instead of offering her an explanation, he gave her another cryptic response, "Doesn't matter." "Jacob." He shook his head and crashed his lips into hers in an attempt to stop her quest for answers, fingers unclasping her bra as hers got to work on undoing his jeans and pushed them down his legs. Mercedes lied back on the bed, gaze following his movements with anticipation as he took off his boots and pants, then joined her before any doubt or her common sense could creep in. His mouth traced a path from her abdomen up towards her breasts, lips closing around her nipple before he bit down on it gently. Her back arched when he moved onto the other one, showing it the same amount of attention as she tried to hold in her moans.

"I want to hear you. Every sound.", Jacob lifted his eyes to hers while his hand strayed over to one of the bedside drawers. He opened it and rummaged inside in a haste, huffing when he came up empty. "What are you looking for?" You pull someone's used toy out, I swear I'm hitting you in the face with it. "Condoms.", he stated matter-of-factly, opening the drawer above the one he had checked, "There you are." He dropped the wrapper on the bed, eyes roaming over her body, staring at her like she was his dinner. Calloused fingers slipped beneath the waistband of her panties and into her heat, exploring the same way her tongue began mapping out her mouth. "So wet for me, sweetheart." He pumped in and out of her slowly, his thumb brushing over her clit briefly, denying her actual release. It didn't take long for Mercedes to become fed up with his game, with his lips twisted into an arrogant smirk at how she was writhing beneath him. You're enjoying this too much. And I enjoy making people pay even more, Jacob. Keep acting this way and you'd find out. "I need more. I need you inside me.", she couldn't recognize her own voice as his hand retreated out of her underwear, leaving her body longing for his touch, to be filled again. "I'm more than happy to oblige.", Jacob retorted and moved away to discard his boxers, then dragged her panties down her legs, tossing them over shoulder. Her body trembled in anticipation and her gaze remained glued to his hands as they rolled the condom over his length, her stare inevitably making him choke out, "You keep looking at me like that, I can't promise I will be holding myself back."

She couldn't help the laugh that escaped her at the irony she was the one that had to hold back. In words and actions. He frowned at the sound and crawled over her, a cold sensation spreading over her skin when the dog tags he wore around his neck made contact with it, "Don't laugh, I'm absolutely serious here." His hands parted her thighs while he went in for another kiss, guiding his tip to her entrance and barely making it in as he whispered, "I might regret offering this, but… last chance to back down, Mercedes." A bit late for that now, ain't it? Or does "just the tip" not count in your cult? Their mouths met again just as she grabbed his hip and pushed him all the way inside, letting out a content sigh at the feeling. The part of Mercedes that always managed to be the voice of reason reminded her in last ditch effort how stupid the decision was, how reckless, then it went completely silent the second he began to move. He kissed her like he couldn't get enough, hands braced on each side of her face, every thrust appearing more intense and desperate than the previous. "Faster. Don't hold back on me. Fuck me like you meant it.", she hummed against his lips and he complied, hand holding onto her waist as his strokes picked up and his thumb found her clit, driving her over the edge with just a few flicks. She half-expected him to follow her, but he shook his head, "We're nowhere near done here, sweetheart." His eyes met hers as his hand took hold of her leg and rested it on his shoulder, finding a new deeper angle, the lingering aftershocks of her climax only intensifying his movements.

"What did you call me today, hm? Old?", he asked in a low tone, emphasising the word with a hard thrust and smirking at the moan that it elicited from her. Touchy, aren't we? Still not over one innocent joke. Though, fuck, I'm starting to think I should nag you more often, if this is how it ends for me… "That an yes, Mercedes?", Jacob challenged, slowing his rhythm down and kissing her calf, "Then there were all the times you undermined my authority… Maybe I should teach you that actions have consequences." His expression told her he was reveling in the idea he was completely in charge of her own body, still believing her to be this meek creature he could play around with as long as he pleased. Time to give you a taste of your own medicine. A smirk broke free on her face as she rolled them over until she came on top and straddled him. Her hands found her destroyed dress, and quickly unlaced the ribbon that adorned the front of its bodice, the subtle sound seeming louder in the silence that surrounded them. Amusement flashed across his features, hinting he still believed she was playing around. His eyes darkened the moment she grasped both of his hands and swiftly tied the ribbon around his wrists, securing the ends into an intricate knot at the wooden bedpost. The tension in the air grew as they gazed at each other, anticipation for what was to come licking at her spine and by the way he twitched inside her, he seemed to be feeling the same.

The whole time he stared at her with a strange expression, voice full of wonder when he asked, "Who are you and what did you do with 'Mercy'?", he spat out the nickname with disdain. Mercedes ran her fingers over his chest, tracing the rougher parts of his skin before leaning down to whisper in his ear, "What did you call me today?", she paused, still mimicking Mercy's gentle tone despite copying his words, "Bambi?", then the real her peeked through when she added, "I'm more of a wolf, Jacob. About time we met." He tested the retraints, and a growl escaped him when they didn't budge. Not my first rodeo. You're not going anywhere. She cupped his cheek, lowering her mouth to his as she started to move at her own pace, the new position threatening to send over the edge before she wanted. In the back of her mind she delighted in the idea how scandalized Joseph would be if he saw them at that moment, if his "God" graced him with the unfortunate vision of her breaking such a precious rule to him. "I knew there was something more to you. That "Mercy" was only skin deep. I could feel it anytime I looked at you.", Jacob said in between kisses, his breathing getting labored now that she had taken charge of their movements. Her teeth bit down on his bottom lip, the sharp tang of his blood hitting her tongue, "Did you? And here I thought you didn't like me." "I didn't like you.", he choked out, "I still don't.", and it was the least convincing lie she had ever heard in her life. Giving me second hand embarrassment here, Jacob. "Should I stop then? Because you see, I'm getting mixed signals here.", her lips moved onto his neck and she sucked on the skin, marking him, "You're telling me one thing, your body another… who's lying?"

She couldn't help but wonder what his Chosen would think of her signature on his throat, especially after the way he had dragged her out of St. Francis. "No.", he said, clutching onto whatever semblance of control he had remaining. "No, what? Did I break you? Form a sentence for me." "Don't stop." A very un-Mercy-like smirk broke free, "Ah, that's what I thought." Her hips rotated again and again, bringing both of them closer to release until he muttered, "I won't last much longer, Mercedes." "I come first, only then you do, too, understood?", he raised an eyebrow at her stern tone but nodded, "Good." Mercedes straightened her back, her hand gliding to where they were joined, fingers rubbing her clit while the other caressed her breast. His eyes drank her in and she could tell he was enjoying the show, yet his face remained scrunched up with concentration as he held back his own release, set on proving a point. On proving himself to her. A second climax hit her, ripping out a moan out of her, and it was all the encouragement he needed to let go, too, as her walls clenched around him. "Fucking excellent.", he said, still out of breath, the genuine shock in his words and his sated expression causing her to beam with pride. It was the first real smile to grace her face since joining the Project, one that reached the dimples in her cheeks, making them pop. The fact that he mirrored her grin didn't help matters at all. If I didn't know better, I'd worry I'm in trouble.

[draguta]

.a court of ash and smoke | eleven.

pairing: lucien vanserra x reader

summary: five years before feyre archeron ever stepped foot in prythian, another human girl found herself in the spring court. but the trials and tribulations of her time under the mountain left her with nothing but a certain red-headed high fae emissary, who had once resented her entire presence, to help and guide her.

chapter warnings: mentions of violence

chapter word count: 2495

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Home

Being back in the Spring Court manor house almost felt unreal. You caught yourself pinching your own arm on more than one occasion to make sure you weren’t dreaming. But it was real, just as Lucien had told you. It was all real.

Alis had enveloped you into a tight hug the second you had ascended the marble steps leading into the house. “Oh, my dear,” she said with a soft smile. “We have missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied, and it was true.

She explained quickly that Feyre had taken your old room when she had arrived. Not that you minded, you hadn’t been here after all. Alis led you to the next room along the hall, the one directly opposite Lucien’s room. It was scarcely different to the last, besides the fact that the walls were a delicate sky-blue as opposed to the light turquoise light green of your old room. Your dresses had already been arranged in the wardrobe, and you were thankful that Alis helped you bathe and dress into something more fitting, although you didn’t admit to her that you folded the clothes Lucien had leant you and kept them hidden at the bottom of the wardrobe.

You sat at the vanity as she brushed and braided your hair, letting the body of it fall around your shoulders, with only two dainty plaits wrapped around each side of your head, pulling your hair away from your pointed ears. You had no doubt that she had noticed your changes - had noticed the glow that now sat around you like a blanket, your pointed ears and sharpened features that you had grown accustomed to seeing in the mirror - but she didn’t mention it. Perhaps she had already known. Maybe Tamlin or Lucien had told her. They had, after all, told Feyre about her.

“I could hardly believe it when my mask came off,” she continued, and you blinked up at her in the mirror. She had been speaking, and you had not really been listening. You had been too focused on memorising every inch of her face and of the room in the reflection of the mirror, so light and airy, compared to those prison-like chambers you were subjected to Under the Mountain. She looked different with her mask gone, her face young-looking despite knowing her old age, and bore an odd sense of motherly features. She was pretty. “I was with my two boys when it happened. Oh, how I cried.”

“Your boys,” you said, and she glanced up, catching your eye in the mirror. “Are they here?” She nodded. “Can I meet them?”

She smiled softly. “Eventually, but let’s get you used to being back first. They’ll still be there waiting when you’re ready.”

You nodded, lips thinning in slight disappointment. Then a thought occurred to you. “Now that Feyre is here, I’ll need a new maid, right?”

Alis cocked her head. “Am I not good enough for you?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “No, it’s not that,” you laughed. “But Feyre will be lady of the Spring Court now. So surely your first priority will be her now, not me.”

She pursed her lips. “I suppose,” she considered. “I’m sure we can find one of the other girls to take over my duties with you.”

You smiled and nodded in agreement. You were sure Alis would find a suitable replacement, although even going back to having someone to tend to your needs was a harsh and peculiar juxtaposition after so many years with only yourself to care for.

“But just you remember,” Alis chuckled. “That you always come to me first when you need someone, got it?”

“Got it.”

Tamlin and Feyre arrived later that evening. You had made yourself comfortable in the library, the fire blazing and crackling in the hearth, although in the warm spring heat it was hardly needed. You had been reading, although it was difficult to focus on the words. Your mind kept flashing back to that horrid court, to the hand that roamed your body, to watching Lucien and Feyre used as toys for torture and torment so many times, to the power that surged through me, and the snap and crunch of Amarantha’s bones.

You heard their voices before you saw them, hushed whispers of, “I love you,” drifting from their placement in the hallway. You tried not to listen, tried to ignore them. And yet, you couldn’t help but feel an ache of joy in your heart at the confessions of love and one another. Tamlin had found someone, and they were…happy.

“I can imagine that’s going to get boring and sickly pretty quick,” Lucien’s voice sounded from the far side of the library. He had snuck in through the second door on the back wall, by the desk that sat below the wide-spread window. He looked cleaner than he had in months, fresh and flushed with colour. He looked healthy.

“I see you’ve found my hiding spot,” you chuckled, closing the book with a slight snap of the pages as they hit together, leaning forward in your chair as he approached, taking the seat opposite you by the fire.

“Well, after you weren’t in your room or the grounds, Alis found me wandering about the East Wing looking for you, and suggested I try here,” he smirked.

“Ah, Alis does know everything that goes on under this roof,” you chuckled.

“She always has,” he laughed. He stared into the fire, the flames reflecting in the gold of his prosthetic eye. He let out a soft sigh. “Is it as strange for you as it is for me, to be back here?”

“It’s certainly…odd,” you admitted, looking into the fire and watching as it ate away at the wood logs that it clung to. As excited as you had been to return home, there had been a strange air when Lucien had retired to his own room and let you to your own devices with Alis, a feeling that with that power under your skin, and the terrible things that you had been forced to do for so long, you didn’t quite belong somewhere so beautiful anymore. “I’d almost forgotten what it was like here. Alis went to braid my hair, and I almost growled at her.”

Lucien chuckled. “It’s going to take some getting used to, that’s for sure.” He looked at you then, those feline-like lips of his curled into a soft smile.

��I’m just glad that you’re here with me,” you said quietly. His smile grew, and he reached a hand out toward you, placing it over the back of your own. And for the first time in the many years that you had known him, in all the time that he had touched you before, you were sure that then, as his warm hand wrapped around yours, you felt a spark.

“Me too,” he said quietly.

Oh, how everything had changed. There was a time when you would have run from him, had kept yourself hidden away in your room when Tamlin left for business outside of the court or somewhere far in the grounds. A time when you would have slunk away from his touch, and cringed each time you felt his eyes on you, always narrowed and filled with hate. But that had been before, when you had been naïve and had thought that the coldest and harshest tongue you would hear would be his.

You knew better now.

You knew true evil now, and Lucien was far from it, with his warm eyes and soft touch, one that you would never have imagined from him before, but now filled you with so much safety and comfort. Lucien was not your enemy. He was your friend.

He was everything.

“Come now,” he said, squeezing your hand gently. “Diner will be ready soon.”

You followed him through the house, back through the front foyer and into the dining room. It was exactly as you remembered it from that very first meal where you had gorged yourself on roast chicken and lamb. The only difference now was that the table was smaller in size, and there was a particular mark on the wall, one that looked scarily like claw marks, that you could not remember being there before. You knew that the house had been trashed not that long ago, Lucien had let that slip, that Rhysand had all-but destroyed it when he had come to drag them to Amarantha’s court, but the servants had done a miraculous job at fixing it up, to the point that you never would have guessed it had ever been destroyed at all - the joys of magic, you thought. Yet, that solitary claw mark remained, embedded into the wall on the far side of the room, by the window.

“Tamlin did that,” Lucien said, following your eyeline. “When we got back after you were taken Under the Mountain.”

Five years. That mark had been there for five years, and Tamlin had never made a move to fix it. “He wanted to keep it,” Lucien said slowly, studying your face. “So that he wouldn’t forget. So he would keep fighting to get you back.”

Your heart cracked. There had been a time when you had told him not to try, to leave you there, and in the years that passed you had convinced yourself that he had given up on you. Yet, there was that mark that proved you wrong.

A hand on your shoulder nudged you slightly, guiding you to a seat at the end of the table, to the left of the table head where Tamlin would sit. You sat down - Lucien’s usual seat. The table was smaller than you remembered it being, narrower and shorter, but you didn’t question it as Lucien took the seat beside you, and the two of you waited for the High Lord and his lover to make an appearance.

You waited for all of twenty minutes before they appeared in the doorway, looking rather dishevelled. Lucien threw you a knowing smirk, and small wink, as the couple took their seats at the table, and the food appeared before you. Some kind of spit-roasted pork, and vegetables, and salad, and even a chocolate pudding.

You ate in silence, and it lay heavy on your shoulders. None of you knew what to say, and you all knew that words wouldn’t convey what you really felt anyway. Of how grateful and glad you were to be home, and for you all to be ok. How you didn’t know how to continue, how to go back to how things were before, and perhaps you shouldn’t.

It wasn’t until Tamlin finished his plate and leaned back in his chair, glass of wine in hand, that he finally spoke. “So, are we going to discuss it, or pretend that it never happened?”

You looked up and to your surprise found him blinking back at you expectantly. You glanced from Feyre to Lucien and back again - they all seemed to know what he was referring to. “Discuss what?”

“Your powers,” he said plainly. Your fork clattered to your plate and your body went rigid. You opened your mouth to speak and then closed it again, not even knowing where to begin. Lucien placed a comforting hand on your knee under the table and squeezed gently, out of sight of the others at the table. “I’m not…angry. You killed Amarantha, but I want to know, do you think those…powers are still there? Or do you think that they went away as soon as she was killed? Spells are tricky, and I need to know if you will be living in my house.”

You swallowed hard, not entirely sure how to place it into words. “I-I honestly don’t know,” you said quietly, glancing down at your plate, not wanting to meet his emerald stare. “I can’t feel them anymore, and I wouldn’t even know how to activate them again. But-”

You paused, weighing up whether or not you should even say it. But Tamlin was your family, Lucien was your family, and Feyre was a part of that family now, and so you continued.

“It’s like there’s something there, hidden somewhere inside me, whispering to me,” you explained. The truth. You had felt it the night before in Lucien’s room as you lay in the tub, head underwater. “As if it’s calling to me, asking me to touch it, the dark light.”

Lucien hissed through his teeth. “What do you think it means? What does it want?”

You looked up to him. “It never says outright, it’s just there, a feeling. But if I had to guess, I would think it wants me to become whatever it was that I was in that throne room. It wants to consume me. It wants death.”

Tamlin reached over the table and patted the back of your hand. “We’ll work it out.”

You could only hope that he was right.

Lucien squeezed your knee under the table, and you allowed your eyes to drift to him. “Tamlin is right,” he said gently, shooting you a small, comforting smile. “There’ll be a way out of this, I’m sure of it, and we-” he glanced at the others at the table, “will fix it. Right Tam?”

“You,” Tamlin seethed suddenly, pointing a finger at Lucien. The rage came from nowhere, as if someone had wound him up using a key on his back and set him off like an old toy. “Do not speak to me in this house, and you do not speak to her.”

Lucien blinked in surprise. “What?”

Feyre slouched down in her chair, picking at her food awkwardly, and you glanced from Lucien to Tamlin and back again in confusion.

“I know what you did,” Tamlin snarled, claws poking from his knuckles ever-so-slightly to glint in the late afternoon light. “Stay away from her. Do you understand, Lucien?”

He spat Lucien’s name as though it were poison. “Tam-” you began, but your brother simply held up a hand, commanding you to silence, his eyes never leaving the red-head beside you. Lucien squeezed my knee once more before retracting his hand.

“I think it’s time I retired,” he said quietly but harshly, rising to his feet. You opened your mouth to stop him, to ask him to stay, but he was already striding toward the door, turning back to Tamlin enough to say, “We’ll discuss this later.”

That night, tucked into your bed in the Spring Court, safe and at home, it wasn’t Amarantha that you dreamt of as you had assumed would be the case. Instead, it was that dark light that flooded your mind, appearing to you in the same way that it had before, in the throne room, in the bathtub. Surrounded by red, smokey mist, dancing and glittering, whispering for you to touch it.

You didn’t dare.