#and he’s ruthless when he wants to lash out as fire

[zorkaya-moved]

Also never forgetting that Sokolov twins can have the most sadistic state of mind where they take incredible pleasure and delight in making someone they dislike suffer through either physical or psychological trauma or driving them to absolute insanity. Victor prefers more physical trauma, but Zarina wants to ruin another person’s mind.

[anantaru]

・✶ ｡ synopsis — fucking your enemy doesn't really sound like a good plan or wait, maybe it does! <3

warnings — enemies to lovers, fingering, playful childe, fem! reader

childe always approaches you with that damn smirk on his face, his gaze intense and unwavering, a sprinkle of confidence playing on his lips.

the harbinger had always been your enemy, the embodiment of danger and excitement, and despite the many battles the both of you had fought, you couldn't lie to yourself but admit that there was an undeniable pull between you— a connection you refused to acknowledge, even to yourself at times.

"ah, you fought well today," childe's was barely out of breath as he throws his hands up in the air to feign defeat, his voice low and husky, a dangerous edge to his tone, "but you're not as strong as you think you are, heh."

without batting your lashes, you glare back at him with your body tense of anger, every single nerve inside on edge, "—and you're still as arrogant as ever, childe."

fuck, how much he adored it whenever you showed him a little of your sweet temper, it's a little salty too but he doesn't mind that— in fact, it gets him going and arouses something deep below.

naturally his smirk widens the moment you say it, his eyes darkening with something far more primal that he'd originally let on, "me? arrogant? oh am i? or am i just confident?"

you roll your eyes and before you could even find a good enough response, he instantly closes the distance between you in a swift stride— without haste, folding your spirit in half with his presence becoming overwhelming.

in an attempt to turn around and leave his hand grabs towards your arm, gripping your wrist with a surprising gentleness that was never experienced before by you, yet with the strength you've known far too well, one that left no room for escape.

"you think you can hide it from me? i can see it in your eyes, you know," he murmurs underneath his heightened breathing, slanting towards your face closer and closer until you could feel his warm breath against your ear, "the way you look at me, you see? the way your body reacts when I'm near like that— ugh, you're so shy, but I know you've been dreaming about this, as have i, or haven’t you?"

your heart races at the absurdity in his sentence— or was there even a sprinkle of a lie inside of it? how long until you cannot run from the feelings you harbored for him anymore? or was it simply lust that kept the drive inside of yourself working.

a mixture of fear yet also excitement floods your senses— you really wanted to deny it, to push him away, but the truth was, his words struck a deep chord within you, you're doomed and yes, in fact, you had dreams about him— of feeling him inside you, feeling his cock twitch and thicken while he's grinding himself in you, fucking your tight cunt as the fantasies of surrendering to the raw, forbidden desire consumed you.

you knew he must be good in bed, amazing even, there was no chance in hell that he wasn't with that striking personality of his.

"cut the crap childe, i don't know what you're talking about," you stammer back, but my dear, don't you hear? your voice betrayed you just this second, right in front of his eyes as you began to tremble with the weight of your secret longing dying to be set free.

"oh? but i think you do," he whispers before saying your name so sensually that it felt like someone's set your body on fire.

the man continues as his lips brush against the sensitive skin of your neck;

"you've wanted this for so long, right? this—"

and before you could muster a response, his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss that made your brain rewire, the touch of his lips strong and ruthless as one hand slid up to cup the back of your head, holding you firmly in place.

you weren't surprised by how childe kissed you, in fact, you imagined how it felt like— granted, it was better than you originally fantasized.

the kiss was rough, as if he was looking for an answer, and it shattered the last bit of your very resistance as you kissed him back with equal fervor, your body igniting with a fire you had tried so hard to suppress— yet, was it actually bad that you went against your own beliefs? just this once?

of course, you both were on different sides, supporting different agendas but this— fuck, this, it felt so good, why was the darkness childe expelled so mesmerizing? like biting into a poised apple and still relishing in getting tainted?

the harbingers hands roamed over your body, exploring, claiming, as if he had every right to do this and his touch was electric, sending shivers down your spine before he pushed you against the cold stone wall, the contrast between the cool surface and his heated skin only heightening your needful senses.

although before going further, he abruptly stopped the kiss, at last lapping across your bottom lip and seeking your gaze, "tell me you want this, i need this," he growls against your lips, his hands gripping your hips with a bruising energy, "tell me you've dreamed of this moment too."

you close your eyes and take a deep breath, a shaky whimper escaping your lips as you felt the grip on you tighten. each one of his touch, his breath hitting your skin and his words played into your beating heart and you couldn't, you just weren't able to stop your body from liking this.

your back arches a little as to show him without words, without needing to admit it— right now, you weren't sure if you could ever say it out loud.

like snowfall, his touch was cold, but it felt oddly comforting.

but you let him move forward as one hand slips beneath your clothes, finding your wetness between your thighs, your folds messed up and puffy for him. "childe i— i... i want this too," you admit against your own volition, the words tumbling out before you could even stop them, "i’ve dreamed of you, childe, maybe..."

you got him now— or, does he have you wrapped around his finger instead? regardless, his eyes blaze with a glistening triumph hanging over his irises as he captures your lips again.

he begins slowly, his fingers working around your hole with expert precision, circling your entrance and collecting your slick with such precision which you originally only knew of his ways of fighting as he coaxes out every inch of your pleasure.

you're writhing and hiding your moans into his chest, the volume of your whimpers growing when he pokes one finger in.

with a growl, he rips your shirt aside to expose your breasts, the fabric tearing in his haste— and before you knew it, his own jacket followed as you helped discard them quickly.

"look at me," he commands, "feel how i touch you there," as his voice resembles a rough whisper.,"i want to see the look in your eyes when i touch and touch you,"

you obeyed, meeting his gaze, your breath hitching as he thrusts one finger into you with a single, powerful flick forward.

the sensation was immediately overwhelming, not due to the fact that he was beginning to stimulate your hole with fast thrusts of his digit fucking in and out of you but the sole thought of childe doing it was the final nail in the coffin.

your heart was beginning to hurt from riding his fingers, furiously rattling against your ribcage as you threw out the last amount of dignity you had inside your body, becoming one with the movements of his hand before starting to seek it.

his wet tongue drags from your neck towards your collar bones before reaching your nipples, immediately taking one in his mouth as the heel of his hand began to press into your clit painfully hard, the feeling only multiplying when you shoved yourself into it more, better and deeper, until your body flashes you with a heat you cannot escape.

one more finger, more, and each pump turned rougher and moredemanding with the pace of his hand being relentless, cruel as you almost climaxed by just looking at him— how his wet lips left a trail of saliva on your slicked chest and ugh, that delirious glimmer in his eyes. 

childe truly likes the feeling of you clenching around his knuckles, he might become addicted to it, and he believes he'd actually die a happy man if he'd be able to feel you squeeze around his thick cock like that.

but you have to do it just like that, with your pussy drooling over his desperately and touch depraved, so he could taste you right after, yeah? have you all around his tongue.

he's not sure if he can even fit inside, ah, how excited he gets when he imagines your eyes glow and turn all big and pretty when he lets you see him from below his clothes— he knows for a fact he will make it fit.

©2024 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[barbieaemond]

Iron on Silk

Pairings: Prince Regent Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: mild angst at the beginning, definitely angst at the end, smut, oral sex (f and m receiving), choking, fingering, p in v, war dirtytalk.

Word count: 3.2k

Author's note: This was my little gift to you for the Aemondsversary. And it's still a gift now, for thanking you for 500 followers in such a short time since I remade my blog. There's a filthy extra in this filthy piece. Enjoy! :)

MASTERLIST

He wears it proudly. He wears it cruelly. It falls on his head like a halo, holy and dark. Black iron on white silk, and little stars of blood.

The crown is heavy with conquest, with tyranny, with the fire that forged it and the blood shed in its name.

"It looks better on me than it ever did on him."

It is true enough, but it does not make it any less heavy. He hides it well, but you can see it, as if looking down at a thick layer of ice, still and cold, and seeing the raging abyss underneath.

You can hear it in his deep sigh, even more in his short ones, when blinding rage is gaping its jaws to swallow reason.

You can feel it in the way he fucks you every night. Relentless. Ruthless. Merciless.

Hopeless.

Desperate to shake it off, to shake off the burden—the crown's burden, the death's burden. The one he lashed out on his family, the one who took Jaehaerys’ life, and Helaena’s. For Helaena is good as dead.

You tend to her every morning, at least you try. You try to get her to take a bath, to hold Maelor. Maelor, who cries and looks for his mother. Maelor who laughs and looks for his mother. You look at her and see her ghost while she still breathes. You look at the Queen Mother and see a shadow of flesh.

You look at him sitting in the Small Council, wearing iron on silk, and see a crown of thorns piercing through the skull.

“Does it hurt, my love?” you ask in the empty room while he strokes the skin around the sapphire. He mumbles something in return, and you walk to his seat at the end of the table, leaning your low back against it.

“No.” you say quietly “I meant the crown.”

He looks up and just stares at you, jaw clenched to trap words, the storm in his eye bubbling up from the depths.

“I have a war to plot.” He says, and that’s all he’s been saying for days.

“You have done nothing else. You look at your Lords and wait for a stab at your back. You look at our bed and see a battlefield. You lay with me holding a knife to my throat.”

He rests his lean shoulders against the seat and the wrinkles on his forehead unfold. "Tis' the first time I hear you complain about my marital duties." he says tilting his head with a cruel grin "It didn't seem much of a burden when you begged for more right after I spilled in your mouth last night." 

"Must it always come back to duty? If I wanted to spread my legs for a cock to warm me every night, I would've thrived in any brothel of Flee Bottom."

He laughs at this, but it comes out wrong, like a rusted gear, oiled too little. "Such lewd words for a Queen."

“Is that what I am?” You ask with a half-teasing smile “I thought you chose not to style yourself as King.”

“Hmm.” he muses, taking hold of your waist with his long fingers, to pull you to him. “I am wearing the Crown, am I not?”

You lean over him, placing your hands on his shoulders, looking at the sharp black edges cutting the soft white silk, wondering how it could have fallen on his head by mistake when it seems that the Gods have always meant to place it there.

Your back collides against the table and you slowly hop on it, your gaze fixed on him, whose eye widens slightly, mesmerized and thrilled. A rustling of paper fills the room, and he looks at the table and then back at you, lips curling up.

“Those are my war plans.”

“It seems my husband is not capable of talking about anything else these days. Fine, then.” You incline your head, mirroring his smile “Tell me about your war.”

He remains still and quiet for so long, looking at you with that glint you know so well, so much that your chest goes up and down fast, and his hands are not anywhere near you.

But then he stands up, forcing you to raise your chin, and leans over you, slowly, silky hair tickling your chest. “It seems my wife is in need of some warfare lessons.” he whispers, ghosting his lips against yours, and you eagerly part them to kiss him.

“Ah.” he counters, pulling his head back with a sly grin “First, we need to ensure our armies are ready.” his deft and long fingers climb on your corset and he starts to pull harshly at the laces, making you jump twice.

“What if someone enters?” you ask, as shivers run down your back like ice drops.

“Indeed, what if someone enters?” he turns your question around and stops his unlacing, challenge and hunger dance on his lips.

“Then you tell them you are the King and the King can fuck his Queen wherever he wishes to.”

His eye blazes under the candles, and after a moment of trepid silence, he brings both his hands to your corset, and with a swift and strong move he rips it apart.

You fall with your back on the table, your breasts are out, nipples hardening for the cold air and the arousal slowly coiling in your belly. He grabs your ankles and pulls you close to him, making you slide on the table to tie your legs around his waist.

You pull yourself up, holding onto your elbows and frantically reach for his belt but he stops your wrists. “Alreay eager to surrender?” he hums with amusement, eye roaming on your exposed body and the hold on your wrists grows impossibly tight, hurting. “If you were in charge, we would lose the war within a day.”

“Or win it.” you suggest, tightening your legs around him until you feel his hardening crotch, winning a quiet whimper from his throat. “Women could end any kind of war, my King. We own the most powerful weapon.”

“Say it again.” he orders, hands hiking up your skirt until it’s nothing more than a heap of fabric around your waist.

“My King.” You say, shuddering as his long fingers hover on your thighs, almost tickling—a gentle touch born out of so much violence.

“Again.”

“My—King.” The words come out wrong, broken by a soft gasp as his fingers unexpectedly breach your walls. Your eyes flutter shut as you feel him go deep inside, deeper than ever, and your mouth falls open.

“You are not so bold about your weapon now, are you?” he asks with a tone ridden with cruel enjoyment.

“Tis’ unfair.” You mumble, resting your head on the table.

“There is no fairness in war, my love.” he says, looking down at your damp flesh and how it clenches endlessly on his hand, and he watches and watches, wetting his lips as if pondering which move to strike on a war map. “It’s best not to be caught…unprepared when you expect an assault from your enemy. Do you know why?”

You whine quietly, biting your lip as he pumps his fingers deeper and deeper and his thumb draws circles on your apex. He does not accept that as an answer, so he slides out, and his large hand grabs your core, fully and almost painfully. “I said, do you know why?”

His tone is demanding, words laced with thunder as he does when commanding the Lords. “Why?”

“Because” he says lessening the grip on you “you give open field for what comes next.”

Air feels scorching in your throat as you look at him, black and silver and blue.

“What comes next?”

He grins like the most ruthless general at the front, the one who takes no prisoners and wipes the bloodied sword on his green cloak. “Siege.”

In a blink, your legs go up on his shoulders, a frame of flesh around iron, silk and sapphire.

He takes his seat again as if sitting down to feast, and you lift your head, breathing hard with anticipation, meeting his eye as his face hovers over your center, feeling his scorching breath lighting a fuse that quickly burns away every rational thought left in your head, if there ever was one since he touched you.

“Aemond, please…” you beg shamelessly, hands flying down to touch him, to bring his head closer and closer.

But he grabs your wrists and holds them still on your stomach. “Call me properly.”

“Please…” you say with your voice cracking, like the nerves in your neck because you can't stop looking at him “Please, my King.”

“Do you know how to conduct a siege?” he is speaking so close to your apex that you can feel his voice reverberating through your skin long before hearing it. “You strike first, hard. And then you wait, watching your enemy starve to death, until they surrender.”

He puts his words into practice by running his tongue flat on your folds and then he is sucking, hard, so hard you fear he is about to devour you.

He moans contentedly, closing his eye for a moment as his jaw moves nimbly and his tongue pierces inside. Your head falls back and you cry so loud you are sure the guards outside are aware of what's happening in the Small Council room.

Just when your hips are beginning to rock on their own against his face, feeling the bone of his long nose, he licks a long stripe and then pulls back.

You raise your head with a sound of protest, but his hands are still pinning your wrists like iron chains, and he is looking at you with a victorious smile, face all wet. And he licks his lips, thoroughly. "If only my enemies tasted half as sweet as your cunt."

With cruel delight, he watches you writhe beneath his hands, breathing hard and unconsciously rocking your hips on nothing to soothe the painful ache between your legs.

“Perhaps I should say mine by now.” he ponders, roaming his gaze on your whole body “This siege seems to be surprisingly short. Do you wish to surrender, my Queen?”

“Yes. Yes, I surrender.” And you press your ankles on his shoulders, hands desperate to free from his hold and seize him, to force him to seize you.

He finally releases your hands and stands up, your legs sliding down and your hands going to his breeches. You pull two laces, but then your right hand locks on his wrist as you see him about to take the crown off his head.

"No, keep it."

His eye turns pitch black, making a deadly contrast with the sparkling blue of the sapphire, and your hands go back to the laces, pulling quickly until you have just enough room to slip your hand in and grab his hard cock.

His lips twitch as pleasure makes his head numb, makes his limbs heavy and his blood boiling and falling down, right where you can feel it, harder than the iron resting on silk. You feel his breath changing with every stroke of your palm, his waist moving almost imperceptibly as he chases your skin, like falling into the warm embrace of a siren’s chant.

The sight only makes you smile, though it stokes your ache for him so much that you mirror his heavy and slow breaths. “Who’s besieging who now?” you point out, almost regretting it when he grabs your neck, squeezing lightly with a dark promise curling his smirk.

“This is your lesson, not mine.” He declares, despite the labored breathing.

You swallow, quietly gasping for air as you look at him.

“Who told you to stop?” he asks, with the same cold purpose he questions the up-and-coming Lords who seek council in that very room, tightening the grip on your throat, almost relishing in the choked sound that escapes your lips.

“Did you forget, sweet girl? You surrendered.” His eye lingers on every detail on your face, and his free hand flies through your hair, tucking a lock behind your ear. The gesture is gentle, almost delicate, the opposite of the hold of steel around your throat. Hostility and devotion doomed to a ceaseless chase to purge one another.

“Siege is over.” He says, sliding his hand up your chin “Now it’s time to claim.” two of his long fingers breach into your mouth, grazing your tongue, and you sense the faint taste of yourself. “There will be some fool who will rebel against the new order. But the rest? They will kneel before their new King.” he leaves your mouth only to grab you by your cheeks, angling your head so he’s whispering to your ear “And who will you be, my dear wife? A fool on a spike or a dutiful subject?”

You recognize that tone, playful but dangerous—the one that will make you wonder if the next grip will be hostile devotion or the opposite. “What if I’m both?” you whisper, moving your head so you can look at him once more. “What if I want to serve you and die by your hand?”

“Then kneel.” He orders, but in your ears is the sweetest death sentence.

His eye glints as soon as your knees hit the ground; it thrills him, it always does, to have you like this and he’s not shy about showing it, for how his chest heaves more and more rapidly as you part your lips to pledge to him.

“No.” he croaks, almost sneeringly given the trepidation pulling his bones so taut, so close to snap. “Look at me and speak the words.”  

“I pledge my allegiance to you, your Grace. I vow to honor and serve you until the last of my days." you swear and there's no acting in it. "Long may he reign.”

Your mouth closes around him and he gasps deeply, jaw falling slack as he looks down, at your lips so perfectly laced around the tip, at your eyes looking up with devotion, no hostility. Never. “Gods, you are so beautiful like this.” He pants, pulling your hair away from your forehead and immediately thrusting his hips so you can take all of it, up to the base.

It's a matter of moments before his hand tangles in your hair, pulling and pushing slightly to give you a steady pace that leaves you breathless and gasping for air. It doesn’t matter though, not when his eye almost rolls back for the pleasure you’re giving him, not when he’s so lost for words that he has not even breath for his snarky remarks. He just moans and groans like a primitive beast, thrusting his cock as deep as he can, growling when you hollow your cheeks around his wet and hard flesh.

Suddenly he tugs at your hair harshly, pulling away as you recline your head to look at him, mouth open to catch your breath. “Why?” you whisper, panting “Did I not serve you well, my King?”

He helps you get up only to make you sit on the Small Council table once again. “You served me exceptionally well, my love. But you will serve me even better by taking my seed into your sweet cunt.”

He hikes up your skirts and revels in the way you spread your legs for him. “Do you wish for a King to fuck you?”

“Not a king, no. My King.”

“I shall do more than that.” He says, panting slowly, eye all foggy but urgent with pleasure, and he takes your face, cradling it between his hands. “I shall put a child inside of you, to strengthen the Crown and see you swell with my offspring.”

“Here?” You tease “On your war maps?”

“Fuck the war.” His delicate hold turns to iron, and then he’s kissing you, as he always does, harshly, smothering, slumping his tongue into your throat.

His hand moves yours away, and your jaw falls slack as he thrusts into you, sliding easily all the way in. You fasten an arm around his shoulders, your parted lips brushing against his, struggling to breathe. He ties your legs around his slender waist and climbs halfway up the table, leaning over you.

Papers rustle and fall to the floor, a sound soon covered by your flesh clashing hard against each other as he ruts into you, and you are utterly besieged. The air fills with moans and growls, and you are not sure whether it is him or you as you climb together toward the final peak.

"Look at me." He laces his fingers around your neck, squeezing lightly. "Look at your King."

You do as he asks, straining to keep your eyes open, frowning with painful pleasure. "Yes, like this, my good girl." He praises, panting loudly, "My Queen."

He thrusts even harder, sweat dampening your skin and his forehead, and he is the most beautiful and dreadful sight you have ever seen. Black iron and white silk, blue sapphire and fire, fire and fire.

"I want you to come with me." He whispers, grabbing your chin with his fingertips, his hand still clutching your throat. "Can you do that for me?"

"Y-yes." You manage to choke out, "Anything."

"My beautiful wife. So dutiful." he says laying wet kisses on your chest "So perfect for me."

His words, uttered so gently compared to the violence of his sieging thrusts, only pushes you up and up, staggering to not fall. "Aemond, I can't—" you whine, digging your nail into his shoulders "I can't last for long."

Your legs are trembling helplessly around his waist, but he fastens the grip on your throat, hard, making you gasp for air. “Hold it.” he orders, groaning because he’s close too, “Just a little more, my darling. I know you can take it.”

It is true, but it does not make the coiling pressure between your legs any less painful, beautiful and painful. He turns sloppy, panting and cursing each time more loudly while you whine, pleading under your breath for him to let you fall into a depth of bliss.

And finally, when your muscles were starting to ache for how much you were holding it back, you hear his breath change, slow and labored, and you know the end is near.

At last, he comes with a choked groan, making sure that not a drop of his seed goes to waste. And you are falling with him, spasming all around his waist, shoulders and cock.

His head falls on your chest, covered by silk and iron, and perhaps the crown has never been less of a burden as it is in this moment, while he rests against your collarbones, as a place where he can lie, or even die.

When sunbeams filter through the bars of your cell, you look through them, though no heat is able to warm you anymore. Except for the life growing inside you.

From a distance, you hear a clamor of men in the courtyard, guards getting ready to carry out the sentence.

If you stand up on your toes, you can even catch a glimpse of the pike on which your head will be mounted in a few days, or perhaps a few moments.

It doesn't really matter.

You look at the puddle of mud on the ground and think of the lake.

You wonder if, at least under the Gods' Eye, the raging abyss beneath the ice has gone quiet, or if the waters have simply swallowed him.

[mountainsandmayhem]

Congrats again!!! You deserve all the love 🥰

📝You know I’m already gonna ask for a Drabble about my man Joel 😂 I am thinking in the middle of outbreak and they get a moment alone in an abandoned building and he has some fun with reader 😈 I want that filthy mouth of his 🤭

A Lesson in Listening

18+

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

Summary: Joel stumbles into your hideout and proceeds to change your whole life during the outbreak.

“I told you to stay fucking behind me,” Joel growls, shoving you into an abandoned Target. You’d been camped out here for a few days, before Joel “sex on legs” Miller wandered in.

“Sorry. I was trying to help!” And you really were. Raiders are almost worst than infected, and you made a stupid move and almost got caught. But your intentions were to help.

“Need to teach ya to listen, darlin’,” he huffs, looking you over to make sure you aren’t hurt. His concerned slowly melts from his face, replaced with something wicked. Sinister. Eyes glazing as he looks down at you with deep black eyes. His tongue pokes into the side of his cheek as he steps back and crosses his strong arms across his broad chest.

“That what you need? A lesson in listenin’?” His voice is dark and husky, and you feel it in your clit as she vibrates for him. This man, this fucking man, and his almost unfair ability to turn you into a soaking hot mess with just a look.

You wet your lips, watching as his eyes dart to your mouth, and then to the column of your throat as you swallow the dry lump of desire that’s forming. “I promise I’ll listen from now on, Joel. I’m sorry.” It comes out weak and shaky.

“Prove it,” he challenges. “Get on your knees.”

You don’t hesitate. Dropping to the chipped and dirty linoleum floor. It’s cold through your jeans, and it hurts the large bruise that’s forming from the earlier attack. But you push through, Joel has intoxicated you in the last few days. Somehow winding himself so deep into the fabric of your being. Anything for him, you’ll follow him to the ends of the earth just to hear him say your name; never mind all the other dirty shit you have, and will continue to oblige too. Happily. Easily. Gladly.

“Take off your shirt and play with your tits,” he leans against an empty rack that at one point would have been filled with candles or seasonal displays.

As your shirt comes off, the cool air pebbles your nipples, but your hands, and the fire in his gaze, warms you as you knead your breasts.

“Pinch your nipples,” he barks. You rush again, rolling your hard little nipples between your thumb and forefingers. He shakes his head, chuckling throat his nose as you moan. “So you can listen?”

You pinch harder, gasping at the mix of pain and pleasure. “Yes, I’ll listen Joel.”

“Good,” he states as he removes his shirt. You feel the slick between your legs growing as you take in his sculpted body. His chest hair is somehow perfectly sculpted even though it’s the middle of the goddamn apocalypse. The happy trail of hair down the middle of his toned abs makes your mouth water. You know exactly what that trail leads to. His thick, ruthless cock.

“Crawl to me!” His deep command echos through the abandoned store. You waste no time, placing your hands on the floor and crawling over to him. He turns around and walks to the bed, sitting on the edge with his legs spread wide.

“That’s it. All the way to me.” He’s enjoy this way too much. When you reach him, you sit back on your heels and look up at him through your lashes.

“The bed was shakin last night. Wanna tell me what you were doin?”

Blush lights your cheeks and you look down at your hands. “Ummm…I-I was…”

Joel’s strong hand cups your chin gently and tilts your face up to meet his. “Come on. Be a good girl and tell me.”

“I was….touching.” You shouldn’t be embarrassed, you’re an adult woman, but something about admitting to Joel that you needed more last night feels wrong.

“Touching what?” He whispers, one eyebrow raising.

“Myself,” you say nervously.

“You mean you were touching MY pussy,” he says. It’s not a question, he told you last night that she belongs to him now.

“Y-yes. I just…I needed more.”

“I fucked ya stupid yesterday and that slutty little thing needed more?”

You nod sheepishly, avoiding his gaze.

“Show me,” he says darkly. The tone of voice causing goosebumps to raise along your exposed skin.

“W-what?”

He pats the bed, “take off your clothes, and show me. Show me how you make yourself come.”

He holds his hand out to you, as you slip your small hand into his large palm he helps you up and guides you to the bed. You lie down, unbuttoning your jeans and sliding them and your panties off in one motion. Joel shuffles to sit on the foot on the bed, looking up at you.

“Don’t get shy on me. Show me how you did it last night.” His rough hands reach to push your legs apart, his pupils dilate when he sees your glistening pussy on display.

“What do you do to yourself, baby? Do you gather all that slick and slip your fingers in? Do you just rub your clit? Maybe you do both.” He’s practically salivating as he looks at you.

Your chest rises and falls with shaky breaths. No one has ever watched you touch yourself before. You feel nervous as his honey flecked eyes burn into you.

“Show me!” He says loudly, voice echoing through the large, empty building.

You gasp in fear, hand shooting to your waiting pussy. You start by moving the building arousal from your hole up to your clit, light little strokes, spreading wetness. Once you’re wet enough, you let your eyes slip closed as you use the pad of your middle finger to slowly circle your clit.

“Fuck, darlin’. She’s so wet. Doin’ so good,” he adjust himself so one of your legs is draped across his lap, eyes wholly focused on your center.

Your lips part, a pleasurable sigh passing your lips as you apply more pressure. “Joel,” you moan.

He leans down, bringing his face close to your pussy. “Lookin’ good enough to eat. Add another finger, wanna see you come.”

His warm breath hits your pussy as he speaks, your hips bucking forward as the sensation. You follow Joel’s instructions, adding your pointer finger and swirling figure eights around your swollen bundle of nerves. “Fuuuuck…oh god….Joel, please.”

“Not yet, wanna see you bury those little fingers,” his lips graze your inner thigh, rough facial hair scraping your skin. “Show me.”

You prop yourself up on an elbow for a better reach, his free hand pushing your legs open more. “Start with one, slide it all the way in.”

Your middle finger prods at your tight hole. You whimper as you slide it in. “Is she sore?” Joel asks softly.

“Mm-hmm,” you nod, slipping your finger in and out as he watches.

“Add another finger, slowly. Once she’s open for me I’ll take over. Come on, darlin’.” He kisses along your creamy thighs as your tease yourself with the second finger, pushing them in slowly.

“Hnnnngh, Joel. I need you.” You say in a shaky whine. Your sore pussy stretching in a mix of pleasure and pain. His two fingers are about three of yours, you’re not sure if you’ll be able to take it.

“Doin’ so good. Look so beautiful like this, fuckin’ yourself like I ask. Such a good girl.” He brings his two fingers towards your lips. “Suck, get ‘em nice and wet.”

You lick your lips and then suck his fingers deep into your mouth, fighting against your gag reflex, your two fingers stilling inside of you. “Keep fucking yourself. Don’t stop, sweetheart.”

You moan around his fingers, bobbing your head up and down until your saliva is dripping off of them. “Lay back,” he says, pulling them from your mouth. Your fingers slide out from your pussy, slick coating them as you slide them up to your sensitive clit.

You fall back into the plush pillows, a luxury in this post apocalyptic world. Joel doesn’t take his time, sliding his thick fingers in, stretching into your wet heat. “Keep rubbin’ that little clit,” he whispers, before blowing cool air on your pussy and curling his fingers forward.

And that’s what does it. The pressure behind your clit breaks, waves of pleasure washing over you. You cry out, saying Joel’s name over and over again.

“That’s it. So fuckin good for me. Let go for me,” his lips kiss your thighs, the outer lips of your pussy, above your mound. He’s everywhere and somehow no where all at once, and you never want it to stop. “So beautiful. This pussy. Fuck baby.”

You finally start to come down, and he slips his fingers out, cleaning them off with his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. Your legs shake uncontrollably, his large hands coming to massage where they meet your pelvis.

“Good girl,” he says, placing a light kiss on your clit. “Such a good listener.”

[ashdreams2023]

Severus snape and reader is 20 but has to take an internship since they dropped out from beauxbatons, is now dating severus as his full time assistant, and they were cuddling by the campfire in severus's office (bones if the relationship is secret)

Just between us

Summary: you and severus are dating secretly

Whispers they were always whispers, either was in the classrooms, the halls or even worse the great hall itself.

You’re supposed to get used to it now, it has been a year now, since your landed your internship and become the potion masters assistant.

It wasn’t easy that’s for sure, you were young and you just dropped out of school, one of the best at that and people just didn’t know how to mind their business.

Fortunately for you, you had the pleasure of being taken seriously by the potion master of the oh so great hogwarts.

Severus didn’t play around when it came to his field of work and you respected that, you tried to learn as much as you can from watching his work, study beforehand so you can he helpful in class and be prepared for any questions that might come up.

Eventually severus swallowed his pride and made it clear that he finds your work acceptable and gave you permission to be his substitute when he’s not in for the day.

And not only that but things developed…emotionally, you still remember when you stayed behind on Christmas and he was the only professor left in the castle, you invited him to have dinner in your chambers, you chatted about work and whatnot, he knew how to keep a conversation interesting and by the end of it you two took a walk around the empty grounds.

You don’t recall when you decided that you can address him as your boyfriend in your head but you do know it felt right.

"I’m back" you say softly not to startled him or your cat, although the two know your schedule like the back of their hand/paw now.

Your cat meows happily but doesn’t get off of Severus’s lap, he’s sitting on his arm chair near the fire reading.

"Welcome back" Severus mumbles glancing momentarily up from his book then looked back down.

You sighed then took off your coat and placed your wand on the small desk near the sofa.

Your stood up on all fours on your boyfriend’s lap and called for you, a chuckled escaped your lips and within seconds you scooped the little guy into your arms and slid snuggly into Severus’s lap.

Severus raises his arm up to give you more space to be comfortable, his arms rested on your waist comfortably like he’s done a million times before.

"And you don’t think they will catch up at one point?"

"I have no idea what you’re talking about" you scratched the head of your cat and kissed his jaw.

"Really? Going down the dungeons every night, laughing every time someone asks if you’re single" He raised a brow at you.

You bit your lip and patted your lashes "I missed you too"

Severus sighs and tightens his hold on you "Kindly do remember that I don’t want to be the next hot gossip topic of my fifth and sixth year female students, they are more than bored and would devour the chance"

"I would never put you into such horror, they are ruthless!" You laughed.

"I can only hope" he closed his book and placed it back on the shelf beside him.

"It’s only between us and kiwi" Your sweet cat purred laying comfortably in your lap.

"And kiwi better learn not to steal potion ingredients from my private pantry to play with"

"Aww sev don’t be mean to my baby"

The man sucked the inside of his cheek then cupped your cheeks with his hand and leaned down kissing your soft lips.

You kissed him back smiling into the kiss.

[kingkatsuki]

More Dragon King Bakugou, I’m sorry.

I couldn’t decide whether I wanted reader to be a villager who’s just watched everything she loves burn to dust, or a Naiad seeking revenge on the men who sully her waters.

The path of destruction that Dragon King Bakugou leaves in his wake is infamous amongst the realms. A ruthless King apathetic to the plight of other Kingdoms, or the creatures that reside within them. The molten inferno that rages within his Dragons and turns villages to dust is known to the nation, and feared by those who reside within it. Because those who battle with the ruthless King rarely make it out alive.

Blood cascades down his body in crimson tides, enough red to fool you into thinking it’s his own. The sickening scent of metal blends with the scorch of burning flesh and death. It permeates the land, drowning it in the pungent aroma of destruction. It has you slipping deeper down beneath the flowing river, pushing your nose beneath the water to avoid breathing in the rancid air.

The blond man, the so called King, begins to disrobe. Letting the soaked layers of fur and leather drop to the floor as he bares himself to the world, unbothered that anyone could see him now— not that there are many people left to witness the sight. His army leave no prisoners, everyone fed to the blazing fire and brimstone.

You can’t stop the throb that settles between your thighs as he bares his all, muscular chest littered with scars and hair as he scratches a bloodied hand against a pectoral. Your eyes follow the map of his sternum towards the prominent V that leads lower, meeting his heavy cock that hangs down from the sheer weight as it pulses. Clearly excited by the bloodshed as he steps a foot into the cool depths, illuminated by the embers that continue to burn behind him. Sullying the once pure with the blood of others, tainting the liquid with the same putrid scent of death.

The soft groan that rumbles in his chest vibrates through the calm water, causing you to shudder as you wade back. Eyes still focused intently on his form as he cleans the blood of others from his scarred skin, soothing the fierce inferno that boils inside his heart— if he even has one. You shouldn’t be so intrigued by a man so dangerous, or so allured. The heat boils inside you, and you’re certain it’s not from the blaze that still lashes at the decimated village.

A sudden splash has vermilion eyes focused and intent, nose furrowed as he stands in the shallow river. Arms poised and ready to battle, even when he’s completely exposed. And the fear that you’d tried so hard to keep at bay now permeates your very being, as you try to decide whether to wade deeper or stand your ground.

You raise to match his stance, the river wades around your thighs as you reveal yourself to the ruthless King. He lowers his arms and relaxes his stance, as though he’s already decided that you’re not a threat to him. But he should be more cautious, especially when you have nothing to lose.

[detectivestucks]

Akatsuki Concubine I

18+ content, Minors do NOT interact

Pairing: Tobi x F!Reader x Konan

Summery: Coming from a poor background you were sold to the pleasure house at a young age even though your dream was to one day be a shinobi. Instead, as you grew up, your mistress got tired of your attitude and sold you to the first duo who asked. These two were none other than members of the formidable Akatsuki.

Warnings: NSFW, DubCon, Female receiving oral, threats of violence,

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This is an AU where all the Akatsuki members are alive and together. New mini-series. More parts coming soon.

Sold to the pleasure house at a young age, you were familiar with a life whose path is set for them. You knew you were to serve noble men and their kinks before being sold and married off to the highest bidder. Only you weren’t one to be touched against your will. You had always wanted to become a ninja but you weren’t born into a shinobi family. You were born into a poor family who couldn’t afford to keep their only child. So you read and you practiced, all by yourself. Every day, from the time you were young till now, you centered your chakra, allowing it to flow from point to point. Feeling its life-giving strength fuel your power. You developed what you read was an unusual combination of Fire and Water style jutsus. Your favorite one to use was phoenix flower jutsu. The balls of fire dancing in the space between you and the latest toolbag who tried to touch what he didn’t pay for always made you feel protected. Little did you know it couldn’t protect you from everyone.

Back at the Akatsuki hideout, the crew was getting rowdier than ever. Constant missions had kept everyone apart for months but the burnout was obvious so their leader, Tobi, assigned missions closer to home. The issue is that a band of ruthless shinobi such as the Akatsuki don’t do well within close quarters. 

“Give back my detonating clay!”

“Nice try blondie. I know you were in my room trying to steal Samehada last night. She told me so.”

“Was not!”

“As if I believe you. Maybe I’ll feed this to Samehada, see if she’s as good of an ‘artist’ as you.”

“Wait! I need that for my art!” 

“Psh, you speak of art as if it’s your god. Come to the way of Joshin and you’ll never worry about your silly art again.”

“SHUT IT Hidan!”

“Or what?! Wanna become Joshin’s next sacrifice!”

The purple-haired man swings his scythe at the young artist when the tall shark-like swordsman snatches up the boy by his long blonde strands. 

“Hey! Let go or I’ll-”

“-What, kill me?”

“All three of you need to shut up! When’s our next mission so I don’t have to suffer you idiots?”

“Sasuke, that wasn’t a very nice thing to say to your brethren.”

“Not now, older brother.” he retorts with a pinch to his nose. Soon a half white, half black figure pops into the room.

“Can someone tell me what it’s like to poo?”

“Ah, gross Zetzu! Why’d ya have to bring that up again?!”

“Well, when someone answers the question, maybe I’ll stop.”

“ENOUGH!”

The voice was deep and commanding. An orange-masked man rounds the corner in his scarlet clouded cloak and all members fall silent.

“You are shinobi of an elite organization. Act like it.” 

The man named Tobi strides through the room catching Pain on his way out. 

“Pain, Konan, come.”

A tall orange haired man with a face littered in piercings and a slender woman with a paper flower in her hair follow behind into a spare room. 

“These idiots are always bickering.” Tobi’s baritone states with exhaustion.

“They’re bored sir.”

“I give them respite and they thank me by acting like a bunch of children.”

“Maybe they need something to do…or a way to blow off steam.” Konan defends

“They should be training.” Pain says with a firm nod.

“...or…uh, I…nevermind.”

“Out with it woman.” Tobi’s words spit out like venom.

“Maybe they have…urges…to release?”

“Oh they do, do they?” Tobi presses “Are you speaking from experience?”

With flushed cheeks Konan’s lashes fall.

“That’s what I thought.” Tobi looks towards Pain, “You’re dismissed.”

Both shinobi turn to leave when the deep voice speaks up again, “Where are you going?”

A slender hand raises to tuck lavender strands behind one ear. “You said we were dismissed.”

“No, I said he was dismissed. You haven’t finished serving your purpose.”

With a thick swallow, Konan stands up straight and turns back towards Tobi. “What do you need?” 

With each word he steps forward.“Tell me more about these urges? How do you suggest we satisfy them?”

With one more swallow, Konan finds her composure “I would suggest concubines sir.”

“Concubines, eh?”

“Yes, I believe there are several pleasure houses in the nearby village.”

“Good, I want you to check them out.”

“Check them out?”

“Yes, find some pretty merchandise for your comrades.”

“Don’t you think you should vet them first? You’ve been so picky with who you’ve let into this organization and these girls will be privy to our secrets.”

Tobi muses to himself before agreeing. “We’ll do reconnaissance tomorrow.”

You finish your supper as your lady enters the room. “House is busy tonight. You’re taking the next caller.”

“I’m not putting up with any funny business.”

“Try to be desirable for a change. And stop scaring away the customers.”

“They’re dreadful and disgusting.”

“And pay well”

You scoff at her. “I’ll be in my room.”

“You scare off one more customer and I’m selling you.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time!” you call over your shoulder as you walk to your room in a huff. You wish to slam the door as hard as possible but she was right, you could hear your sisters all working. The sounds of men groaning come from every corner of the house and it would be unwise to create a ruckus on such a bustling evening. 

You sit at your looking glass and brush out your hair. You allow it to fall down your back and tickle your neck before you lean forward to apply a small dusting of blush and smear rice water cream over your lips to soften them. Just as you finish, you hear your door begin to open. You look up to a stout man entering your room and raking in your appearance with obvious hunger. You felt your stomach tighten at the thought of entertaining him but you plastered on a sweet simper and move to sit on the mattress, patting the place next to you. 

Meanwhile downstairs Konan approaches your misses.

“Excuse me ma’am. Would you happen to be selling any of your girls?”

“Who’s asking?”

“I am.” Tobi’s tenor voice crashes over the lady as her mouth falls open in fear upon seeing the masked man with the glowing red eye. She realizes her state and quickly closes her mouth while wiping her hands on the front of her dress. “No, I am not selling any of my girls.”

Across the home you hear a man shouting in terror “FIRE! FIRE! HELP THERE’S A FIRE”

“...Except for that one.” she finishes with rage.

Tobi and Konan immediately head towards the shouting to check on the source of the commotion. Upon entering the room they see a beautiful young woman with hair fallen around her face and a disheveled kimono open in the front, exposing both breasts and her pelvis.

“Oh relax” you say, weaving hand signs for your water style cannon to extinguish your phoenix flowers. “Now go, and don’t come back. We don’t need your type around here.”

“Yes we do!” your mistress chimes in, pushing Tobi and Konan to the side to scold you for your behavior.

“No we don’t! He’s a pig! And who the hell are they?!” you say gesturing towards the cloaked shinobi.

“Your next customer”

“Absolutely not.”

“Well that’s too bad cause they intend on purchasing your worthless hide.”

“Like hell they’ll take me.”

You weave the tiger sign to once more scare away these newcomers with your phoenix flower flames only to be met with a ginormous fireball to the face. Quickly you switch your jutsu to water style to combat the masked stranger when he voluntarily stops. 

Your hair falls in your suddenly sweaty face as you gauge the man before you. 

“My, my. Aren’t we a feisty one? And a user of ninjutsu as well. That’s a first.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Well too bad for you because I am. Konan, give the lady the money.”

“Good, take this ungrateful slut off my hands. Maybe you can knock some sense into her. I don’t need my house set ablaze every other day. I’m done.”

You feel your chest constrict with anger and sadness. To be cast aside, demoted to the value of a coin, yet again, and be forced to go to a new home once more. What’s more, is your tricks won't work on this one. He can out master your flames. You give a panicked look to the one with a paper flower atop her head before your teary eyes stare up into the dark hole of the orange mask. 

A gloved hand glides up and cups the bottom of your chin, “Don’t get soft on me now kitten. I enjoy the spark.”

You rip your face away from his hand but he grabs you by the arm. “Konan, test her out for me, please. If you like her we’ll keep her, if you don’t we’ll kill her.”

The sadness in your heart quickly spins to fear as you realize how dangerous your new owner must be. 

“But sir-”

“You said you had pent up urges.”

“I-”

“What? Were you going to ride the face of that Pain puppet? That seems a bit chilly, don’t you think? Why not try someone with a little more body heat?”

The pain and insult were obvious on Konan's face but she did as she was told and approached you. 

With cold and hooded eyes she demands, “Knees.”

You swallow, remembering his words. There was no way out of this one. You were going to have to do what you were trained for and earn your keep…along with your life.

‘You’re the whore; you know what to do” 

Your hands rifle past the noir cloak and find the ties of her pants. You pull the skin tight spandex down past her knees and gently lift her leg to tenderly slide the fabric over her ankle and off her foot.

The pants now removed, your hands hold open the front of her cloak similar to your open kimono. You lift yourself off the heels of your feet and bring your mouth to the front of her cotton panties. You kiss her heat over the cloth before your teeth find the waistband and pull down. 

“Good girl.” you hear the masked man purr from the entrance of the room. 

One hand slides under the thick bamboo fabric of the scarlet and black cloak to graze over her cheek and sink your fingers into the soft flesh of her behind while your other hand wanders up her pale inner thigh, finding her labia and slipping two fingers up into her slit.

Grip tightening on the muscle of her rear, your fingers thrust in and out, hooking inside her squishy insides, feeling how they tighten around your digits. Once she gasps you pull them out and look up at her face before wrapping your lips around your fingers and sucking them clean. The taste was sweet, almost like a baked treat and your lids flutter slightly before she grabs a large section of your hair and pulls you up to your feet.

“Arms folded behind you and lay down on your back.”

You do as she instructs and find her crawling up on the mattress to straddle your face. Her robes fall over your head and you are plunged into darkness, completely blinded by the cloak.

As her weight pushes against your face, you open your mouth to kitten lick at her entrance made wet by your foreplay. 

Just as you open wider to sink your tongue between her lips she reaches back and pinches your nipples earning a cry from you that vibrates against her folds. A satisfied hum can be heard from the place where the masked man stood and you knew he approved.

You jab your tongue out as far as you can and stroke forward inside her heat, slurping up her juices with loud wet sounds. Her hips rut against your face as satisfied signs leave Konan’s chest. You wrap your lips around her little nub at the front of her entrance and rub the tip of your tongue back and forth along the bump. 

Her legs close around your head before suddenly releasing. She repositions herself so that she is facing down your body rather than towards the head of the bed and as she sits back down, your nose prods against the crevice between her cheeks. 

With better access to her swollen bud you seal the perky tip between your pillowy lips and suck. Her thighs squeeze against your body and she weaves hand signs so that two paper butterflies appear and fold into clips. They flutter towards your nipples and you feel their wings brush against your skin before the clip on their bellies opens and traps your sore nipples between them. 

You squirm and whine at the discomfort but really it causes you to clench around nothing. Your legs kick out feeling desperate to get up but your mouth obediently continues to pet her clit. 

Konan lifts her hand and brings it down harshly between your legs, slapping your folds and protruding clit. 

You scream, the vibrations tickling between her legs causing her to lower more of her weight onto your head. Your legs snap closed. “No you don’t.” she says smooth as butter. Grabbing one of your legs in her arms, she holds your leg against her chest and continues her assault on your folds. 

Her rutting against your face as you scream causes the noises to come out muffled and broken which only makes Tobi’s member stiffen in his pants. The spectacle of your squirming beneath his comrade mesmerized him and he knew he wanted you to himself. 

You open your mouth wide to drag your tongue all the way from the hood of her clit, along the front of her entrance and point it as it enters her heat where you dance it in and out of her hole causing her to fall forward and rest her weight on the hand pushing into your waist. 

The butterfly clips attached to the tips of your breasts tightened the more you please the female ninja, who eventually falls all the way forward and returns the favor, sucking on your own swollen nub till your legs shake with pleasure. 

The harder she sucked, the harder you sucked, till you feel her gush on your face and both of you collapse from orgasm. She dismounts, panting from the feeling and nods at her masked counterpart. “This one will do.”

“Well, well, looks like you’re coming with us after all.”

Before you had a moment to realize the meaning of his words you feel yourself being pulled forward and suddenly you are in a dark gray abyss filled with large chunky blocks. You look around realizing it is just you, naked, aside from your small kimono that you pull over your shoulders for comfort. You are standing there alone, all by yourself, with no idea where you are or how you got there.

Masterlist

Coming Soon:

Part 2: The New Master

Part 3: The Uchiha Slut

[katnissdoesnotfollowback]

Do you think Peeta strangling Katniss affects their relationship in the growing back together phase? Most seem to think it would be Peeta getting reassurance and comfort from Katniss but I find that a little wrong since it was her getting strangled and with the neck covered in bruises

Why does it have to be either one or the other needing/getting reassurance and/or healing from the strangling?

By the end of Mockingjay, both Katniss and Peeta are dealing with complex ptsd, which means both of them have an assortment, a complicated mess of traumas they have to sort through during the grow back together phase. That’s why it’s essential that both of them work with Dr Aurelius. So I absolutely believe that it does impact their relationship, at least a little. But there’s A LOT that is going to affect their relationship during the grow back together phase. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, it’s just a fact of living with ptsd.

I agree with your hypothetical “most” that Peeta would absolutely feel guilt and responsibility over his trying to strangle Katniss. He put his hands on her and physically hurt her, left her marked and unable to speak for a significant amount of time. She needed to be hospitalized for her injuries. As a person with childhood abuse in his past, who we can readily assume wanted to break that cycle of violence, Peeta would be devastated to learn that he did that to Katniss. Just like he was devastated seeing himself throw Mitchell into the barbed net in the Capitol. Hijacked or not, he’s going to have to come to terms with the fact that he did it. He’s going to need reassurance from Katniss over it, and would have to learn to forgive himself as part of their growing back together phase.

As for Katniss… what I’ve seen argued is that she was more concerned with the verbal hurts Peeta inflicted upon her when he was recovering from the hijacking than she was with the physical ones… which I can see the case for this textually. She doesn’t fixate on the strangling itself but on the words he speaks and how she thinks he sees her, the “real” her in her self-loathing, after his hijacking. She almost acts like she deserved that violence against her body.

But here’s the thing. If we can assume that Peeta never wants to repeat the abuse his mother heaped on him by abusing those he loves… he’s going to feel like shit for the things he said to her in his pseudo hijacked phase as well. Peeta internalizes the things his mother said about him. She calls him a “stupid, worthless creature” in Katniss’s memory of the bread flashback. And in Catching Fire, Peeta lashes out at Katniss and Haymitch for keeping secrets from him by saying “Like I’m too stupid or inconsequential” to understand or deserve the truth…

Inconsequential is another way of saying worthless, my friend. He repeats what we know his mother has said about him. Because on some level, he believes that it’s true… symptom of trauma and abuse, my friend.

So of course, even if Katniss fixates only on the cruel things that hijacked Peeta says to her rather than the physical act of strangling her, there are still going to be a host of issues they have to deal with, and eventually, they’re going to have to deal with the strangulation aspect as well.

And Peeta’s no stranger to lashing out physically either. In addition to verbally lashing out, Peeta also physically breaks a lamp in that CF scene. Some people will argue that it’s a stretch, but it is still an indicator of his anger on occasion manifesting as physical ACTION. Lest we forget, he somehow kills Brutus in the Quell, and Brutus is billed as one of the stronger, more ruthless Victor Tributes in that arena. Oh and by the way, Beetee had Peeta’s knife at the lightning tree. So what in the fuck was Peeta armed with when he killed Brutus? His bare hands?!?!

Now, Katniss might not actively fixate on those things during Mockingjay, but I find it highly likely that she would flinch or visibly react to the possibility of physical violence when post MJ Peeta gets angry or distraught… because she knows what he’s capable of and knows that he’s lashed out physically before. And that is absolutely going to affect them both.

Do I think Peeta is abusive towards Katniss? No. Absolutely not. I don’t think that at all. But lemme give you a real life example.

I’m married to someone with ptsd. Some of that is a result of having physical violence inflicted on him personally. Some of it is just from witnessing violence and its results in real life. Some of it is from existing for long periods of time in a place where he was constantly in danger of dying. I have never physically hurt him. But one time, shortly after he came home, I playfully smacked his arm (not even all that hard, Anon) while we were hanging a picture on the wall, we were laughing and teasing each other… and he legit froze, completely tense, and whispered “Don’t… don’t do that again.” I had triggered a flashback.

So there is no doubt in my mind that at some point, Everlark has to deal with Peeta triggering a flashback in Katniss to the moment he tried to strangle her.

Conclusion: It’s both of them that will have to deal with it, will need to heal and need reassurance. I just think that it is going to take a lot of work for both of them to process, deal with, and overcome the verbal and physical violence in their pasts. I think really, the discussion you’re probably seeing right now is simply an acknowledgment that Peeta, as loving and soft as he can be, is also fully capable of violence, and he knows it, and he’s going to have to deal with it. He’s no cream puff. He’s got fire in him and is fully capable of biting back. But acknowledging what he has to deal with in terms of him almost strangling Katniss isn’t necessarily a dismissal of what Katniss will have to deal with alongside him. She’ll just be dealing with it from a different aspect and probably at a different pace.

❤️ kdnfb

[berryflavouredkoolaid]

Artemisia - Buffy The Vampire Slayer OC

~ General ~

Full Name: Evelyn Blackwood

Given Name: Artemisia

Aliases/Nicknames: Little One (By Drusilla), Arty (By Spike), Artemisia the Huntress (Various historical texts), Spike’s Lapdog (By Angelus), Psycho Vampire Bitch (By Xander)

Born: April 18th, 1868

Species: Vampire

Abilities: Clear sight, prophetic dreams (formerly)

Residence: Perthshire, Scotland | Assorted | America (various) | Prague, Czech Republic | Sunnydale, California | Assorted | Los Angeles, California | Sunnydale, California

~ Physical Appearance ~

Hair Colour: Red

Eye Colour: Blue-green

Skin Tone: Pale

Height: 5’6

Misc: Long lashes, a scarred mark over her heart,

Face Claim: Rachel Hurd-Wood

~ Personality & Traits ~

Personality: As a Vampire, Artemisia is a cruel and conniving one. She enjoys teasing her victims and enemies, taunting them with freedom and victory, only to strike the final blow. As a human, Artemisia’s most fervent desire was to find true, loyal and enduring companionship, true love, even. when she was turned, that desire transferred over. She becomes deeply attached to people who she views as friends or family. She is fiercely protective over her family unit and will exact revenge if harm comes to them. She is completely driven by her undying devotion and would even act in ways that are self-sacrificing to keep her family together and safe.

Priorities: Her family unit

Strengths: fighting, ruthless, relentless

Weaknesses: vengeful, clingy, unwilling to let people go

Likes: hunting, the blood of men, jewelry and fine clothes, gifts, fighting, dancing

Dislikes: slayers, cheats, human food, being alone, fire, crosses

~ Life ~

Born Evelyn Blackwood, she was the bastard daughter of a wealthy nobleman and His mistress. She and her mother were sent to live in exile in a small estate in Perthshire after Evelyn was born a girl. If Evelyn had been born a boy, her mother would have been made the Marchioness and married Evelyn’s father so he could have an heir. However, it was not meant to be.

From birth, Evelyn was gifted with the ability of Clear Sight, she could see people for what they truly were, good or evil, human or demon. she was often plagued by otherworldly sights. Her mother and the servants dismissed her as hysterical.

Because of her ability, Evelyn was raised in practical isolation, rarely allowed to leave the grounds, which were practically deserted. The small estate lacked both funds and care.

Despite her incredible beauty, rumours of Evelyn’s madness and hysteria kept her from making a match. When Evelyn was 20, her father sent word he had made a deal with a friend that Evelyn was to be married to him.

Evelyn was sent to London immediately upon hearing this. Upon meeting the man, Evelyn was horrified to learn he was a womanizing pervert who had been married many times before, each to a miserable end.

Only a few weeks from her wedding day, which would take place on her 21st birthday, she slipped out of her father’s manor and into the streets of London. While wandering, she briefly came across Spike, then called William. She merely brushed by him, but was able to glean his true nature by only a brief touch. William became fascinated with her. Goaded on by Angelus to take what he wanted, He made an effort to find Evelyn.

However, he discovered she rarely left the manor, least of all at night. However, her wedding was sure to be a veritable feast, held in a chapel. And, it was to be held at sundown.

He, Drusilla, Darla and Angelus crashed the wedding, massacring the guests. William bit Evelyn, turning her. When she was reborn, she drained her would-be husband.

~ Unlife ~

Newly reborn as a vampire, Evelyn becomes the 5th member of the close-knit group. Dubbed Artemisia by Spike after he observed her enjoyment of the hunt. He named her after the Greek Goddess of the Hunt, Artemis.

Artemisia quickly becomes completely devoted and loyal to Spike. She and Spike shared a romantic and sexual relationship. However, when Angelus was ensouled and became Angel, the group was split apart. Artemisia split from the others as Spike lost his fascination with her now that Drusilla was wholly his again.

She spends years alone, until the First World War. While feeding at a war base, she stumbles upon an American soldier named Patrick Lewis. She became infatuated by him and, only days after, turned him. She dubbed him Cassius and he became her lover. However, only 40 years after she turned him, Cassius was killed by a Slayer. Artemisia was heartbroken and enraged. She sought out the slayer, and ruthlessly tortured and killed her.

However, her rage was not yet sated. Artemisia began searching out Slayers and killing them. She reunited with Spike and Drusilla in the 70s in New York while tracking the slayer, although Spike had already killed her. Artemisia didn’t stay for long, as she felt like a 3rd wheel.

In 1997, Artemisia, Spike and Drusilla all ended up in Sunnydale. They worked together to try and kill the Slayer and heal Drusilla.

When Angelus returned and took control of the vampires, Artemisia and Spike worked together with Buffy and the Scooby Gang to stop him. Spike, Artemisia and Drusilla escaped shortly after.

Following Drusilla’s leaving Spike, Artemisia and Spike continue their travels alone. In 1999, Artemisia began experiencing vivid prophetic dreams of Spike’s death. Exactly the same, every time. After weeks of being plagued by the dreams, Artemisia snuck away and went to Los Angeles.

There, she was guided by her dreams to seek out Angel and Co. to help her. She lied to Angel that she had received visions that the world would end unless she had an audience with The Oracles. Artemisia was able to get Angel to allow her access to The Oracles. When she entered their realm, she asked them to tell her how to stop Spike’s death. Angel was blindsided by her lies and tried to force her out but failed. The Oracles made a deal with her. Artemisia was marked with a brand over her heart. If she breaks the pact she made with the Oracles, she and Spike will experience eternal torment, never dying, but never escaping the pain. If she attempts to act against the forces of Good, she will experience intense pain and physical weakness. The Oracles tell her to go to Sunnydale and help the Slayer.

Angel was angry she lied to him and tells her never to come back or ask for his help again. She leaves Los Angeles and goes to Sunnydale, much to her chagrin.

Once in Sunnydale, Artemisia goes to warn Buffy of the threat that is approaching. She goes to Buffy’s window in the night and cryptically tells her that an enemy with a vendetta against the Slayer had come to Sunnydale hellbent on Buffy’s death. However, when she flees to escape the sunrise, Buffy assumes Artemisia is the enemy and wants to get back Spike.

Eventually the misunderstanding is rectified and as time passes, Artemisia becomes a member of the Scooby Gang.

~ Relationships ~

Family:

Spike

Drusilla (Formerly)

Darla (Formerly)

Angelus/Angel (Formerly)

Friends:

Anya Jenkins

Buffy Summers

Lover(s):

Cassius (1915-1958)

Spike (On and Off)

Enemies:

Buffy Summers (Formerly)

The Scooby Gang (Formerly)

Angel (Formerly)

The Forces of Evil

Rivals:

Xander Harris

Angel

~ Miscellaneous and Notes ~

Artemisia is really good at doing impressions and mimicking voices. she can also do bird calls very accurately

She has an accent that’s very had to place, it’s sort of a mix of Scottish, English, American, and a mish-mash of other places she’s lived throughout her life.

Wears a lot of white dresses

Is always beefing with Xander

Artemisia’s weapons are a collection of fine daggers plundered from a wealthy nobleman’s home by Cassius. She has kept them in perfect condition and they are her prized possession.

She and Drusilla were dear friends, almost sisters. She never liked Darla, though.

[cuoredimuschio]

wip weekend 🎶

tagged by the wondrously lovely @thefreakandthehair, thank you lex!!! 💜💜💜💜 (give me a moment to be selfish and encourage everyone reading this to send lex some wip weekend asks so i can enjoy more snippets of her incredible upcoming fics!!)

Rules:

In a reblog of this post (so people can find you in the notes) or new thread (w/ rules attached) if you want to play on your own, post up to five (5) filenames of your WIPs; not titles, file names.

Post a snippet from one of them. Snippet must be words you wrote in the last 7 days. We’re posting progress here. If you haven’t made any, go make some and come back to play!

After you’ve posted, people can send you an ask with one of your file names. You must then write 3 sentences in that file. If the filename is one you can't share from (for example, an event or gift fic), write 3 sentences on it anyway, and then 3 more on another to share.

That’s it! You can invite others to join in, or just post.

the wips:

a stout heart (steddie big bang)

line of apsides

wound up

just the three of us (you, me, and this brick wall between us)

snippet from a stout heart below the cut:

Across from him, Kas attacks his portion with perhaps even more ruthless enthusiasm and vigor; he hunches—much like the snarling gargoyles atop the royal temple—over his food and shoves handful after handful of nectar fruits and almonds into his mouth, with no room left between to breathe. The comparisons to a gorthokian boar suddenly ring that much truer. It’s a miracle, frankly, he hasn’t yet choked. Or maybe it’s the opposite; Steve’s dilemma would resolve itself rather tidily if he were to simply suffocate with a hunk of bread lodged in his throat.

But his luck continues on its downward trend: Kas announces the completion of his meal with a raucous belch and dusts off his hands before stretching them toward the sky; the nectar berries have left sordid purple stains on his fingertips. His eyes slide shut as he holds the pose, his body spread taunt, his shoulders pressed down, his head tilted back. It would be so easy, too easy, to draw a clean slit across the pale column of his neck. Such incautious vulnerability, in front of a stranger, an enemy. How has he possibly survived this long when he is so thoughtless toward his own safety? Or is it arrogance? A lethal delusion of immortality imbued by the legends?

Perhaps Steve’s luck isn’t quite as poor as it appears.

Kas’ arms drift back down to his sides, and his chin lowers, lashes fluttering.

Steve hastily shunts his eyes off to the dirt and finishes off his final bite. Crude as it may be, he wipes his mouth upon his sleeve cuff. His mother isn’t here to chastise him, after all. “How did you know my name?”

It ought to have been the first question he asked, had he the capacity to form a single thought at the time. He’s no stranger to the social scene in Hawkins, but he strongly doubts Kas had been frequenting the same galas and functions he had.

The fox rouses from her nook beneath the tree. An echo of her unwilling benefactor, she extends her paws out, toes flexing, and bows her head. Her eyes squinch shut too as she presses back into the stretch, her tail rising, flicking up over her back. Unhurried, she traipses along the wall of false fire, nearly camouflaged against the flickering flames.

“Because I know you, Steven Joseph Harrington.” A dagger lands in his stomach with every syllable, spilling bile, blood, and bitter curiosity. “Believe it or not, we’ve met before.”

-----

not sure who's been tagged yet so we just gonna do a few (non-obligatory, as always): @kkpwnall, @starryeyedjanai, @patchworkgargoyle, @fragilecapric0rnn

[wednesdayismyfunday]

Broken Pieces

Summary: Tommy helps his business partner feel better.

Pairings : Tommy SHelby X reader

Warnings : Fluff ? implied smut. Alcohol drinking.

The timing of it all seemed cosmic . Meeting Tommy during his most ruthless days was something he wish he could have taken back . Maybe then it wouldn’t have taken so long for yn to fall in love with him. She had seen him do things out of hurt . He said awful things to her so she never got close . It has been a year and Tommy falls more in love with her every single day . When they became business partners it was clear to both of them that they had different  views on how to handle employees. Yn was gentle and kind . She rewarded good work . Tommy was brutal and harsh . Both stubborn in their approach .  It took a few fights and bickering but they worked out their good cop / bad cop partnership well. Business had never been better .

“ Tommy , why did you yell at that kid. “ Yn asked with her hands on her hips.

“ He screwed up . What else would you like me to do . “ Tommy muttered in response. He took a big swig of his bourbon and placed it on his desk . Y/n sat down on the chair opposite him , grabbed his glass and finished off his bourbon. Tommy raised an eyebrow at his business partners odd behaviour. Y/n rarely drank .

“ I can pour you a glass if you like. “ Tommy said.

“ Tommy ,  do you like working with me?” Yn said .  Tommy sat up straighter and looked  yn in the eyes .

“ Do you want me to be kind or honest ?” Tommy replied .

“ Honest ?” Y/n responded.  Tommy stood up and grabbed another glass and the bottle of bourbon . He poured himself and yn a drink and sat down .

“ Sometimes you make me want to put my head through a wall . Most of the time I’m glad you’re here . You make the days seem less bleak. “ Tommy said. Y/n nodded and picked up her glass. She downed the whole drink and poured herself another one. Tommy was baffled , had he done something to upset her? Probably .

“ Y/n tell me what’s wrong . What is going on?” Tommy asked gently . Y/n stood up and straightened her trousers . She took his glass and motioned him to come to the sofa . They sat down next to each other knees touching . 

“ Sometimes I think I am un lovable. “ Y/n sighed. 

“ Y/n where is this coming from. What happened today? “ Tommy asked. He took the drink from her hand and put it on the table. Y/n let out a gentle sob. She was crying. Tommy moved closer and held her. Y/n cried on Tommy’s shoulder. They sat there until she stopped crying. 

“ Love, please tell me whats wrong. “ Tommy whispered. Y/n looked at Tommy. She new she loved him. She didn’t want to. 

“ Matthew broke up with me. He told me I am emotionless, that I will never find someone who will deal with me. “ y/n whispered. Tommy didn’t even know she was dating someone. He hated this guy immediately. Who would say that to her. Y/n is love in human form.

“ He is a moron. What kind of man would say that to you. Y/n darling. Never have I met someone as kind , funny, sweet and charming. You charmed me so much that I made you business partner. My dear y/n. You have no idea what you do to people.” Tommy said stroking her hair. Y/n looked at Tommy through her lashes. 

“ Tommy, I’m broken.” Y/n whispered. 

“We are all broken. Some of us are just better at masking it. “ Tommy said. He lay down and pulled Y/n on top of him. Y/n closed her eyes and relaxed at his touch. They lay there until they both fell asleep. Only waking when the winter air nipped at their skin. Tommy woke up first. It felt like it was the first rest he has had since Grace died. 

“Yn, I know its comfortable but we will freeze to death here. Let me start the fire, or we can go to my bedroom the maids would have lit the fire by now.” Tommy whispered loud enough to wake y/n but not loud enough to startled her. Y/n mumbled something incoherently. Tommy smiled and slowly moved y/n next to him so he could get off the sofa. Y/n opened her eyes and watched Tommy make a fire. He moved with so much grace. 

“ Tommy Shelby making a fire.” Y/n said as she sat up to take  sip of bourbon. Tommy smiled and finished making the fire, flexing more now that he knew she was watching. 

Y/n relaxed into the sofa enjoying the view. Tommy turned to look at yn. The fire bringing a gentle glow to the room. Yn looked at peace, maybe for the first time. 

“ I am in love with you.” Tommy blurted out. Y/n sat up straighter and smiled.

“ I am in love with you too.” Y/n laughed. Finally admitting to both Tommy and herself that she was head over heels in love. Neither made any effort to move. Both afraid it would break the spell. The fire crackled and flickered. The air was beginning to heat up. Tommy swore she would be able to hear his heart beating. It was as if it was forcing him to move closer. Yn stood up and walked towards Tommy.  

“ You sure you want this broken person.” Yn said putting her hand on his cheek.

“ Maybe my broken pieces will fit with yours and we can make a whole new person.” Tommy laughed. Yn smiled and leaned close enough to feel Tommys breath.

“ I warn you, once you kiss me there is no going back.”  Y/n smiled.

“ I hope that’s a promise.”  Tommy replied closing the gap. The kiss said thousand words. It promised love, it promised friendship . Tommy pulled yn to the floor , and lay on top of yn. There they broke all rules of being a business partner. Two broken pieces finding each other to make one whole human. 

“ I hope you haven’t done this with any of your other old business partners.” Tommy said while holding y/n in her arms . Y/n laughed , it was pure joy and happiness that seeped from her lips. A feeling of  content that she had never felt. 

“ Only the really rich ones.” Y/n joked. Tommy laughed and kissed her forhead. The fire was slowly going out, but the warmth in the room only seemed to grow. 

[insabecs]

blue

So...hi! I created something. I never created something before, so I’m not 100% sure how this works. More might be coming, or it might not. (also not sure about that.) Also one big big thank you to my dear friend @scalyfreaks that has been a big part of making this happen by rambling with me about Aegon and for very kindly lending me her precious Amara. Daisy, this would probably not be out in the world if it wasn’t for your support :). So if by chance you come across this and like it, go thank her and also read her work. 

Anyway, on with it and if you come across this by chance and decide to stay, dear reader, thank you. 

Aegon is blue. Amara has liked to assign colours to people since she was little, as if she’s gifting them the most precious gift. It is her way of showing love, of trying to make the people around her feel special. Here, have this gift that no one else can give you. Have one of my colours.

Aegon is blue. She looks at him from where she stands by the kettle in the kitchen of the cottage. It’s late. But it is summer so the sun is setting over the ocean and even if she knows he IS blue, in the twilight, he’s golden. She can’t see much of him through the kitchen door. She only sees the rickety, salt corroded deck chair he is sitting on, a mop of shaggy blond hair, so fine it looks white in the evening light and his hand stroking Sunfyre behind one ear. Two fingers holding a cigarette three settled deep into his dog’s fur. Always there. Aegon has seen more loss in his life than most people double his age would not have seen and has lost trust that the world will let him keep anything he loves. He feels undeserving. Amara has realised that anything that has meaning to him he makes sure to touch as often has he can. She is not yet sure he touches her often enough. The kettle boils and clicks off and she’s back at the cottage, remembers the two chipped mugs decorated with childish hand painted dragons sitting in front of her, lonely tea bags in them. She wonders if they are mementos to a life long lost. The fading light is coming through the door and falls flat against the stone floor, she can see the tiny particles of dust dancing in the light, it is very quiet. And she’s back to the thought: Aegon is blue. When she met him, she though he was golden- calm, steady. All morning light, soft touches and crows feet. A golden man with a golden dog. Then the break in the façade came. He cracked. And she saw him red. All bites and scratches. She could swear at times his tongue on her felt rougher than a cat’s. Heavy hands around her neck. Ruthless. Brutal. He was burning and she just wanted to sacrifice herself to his fire. When the cracks in the relationship started showing and the break came, she could only feel the grey. The silence. She was lost in the deserted land of the lost shipwrecks he left behind. Now that he’s finally decided to show himself to her and she sees him in pure Technicolor, she knows he is blue. Not sky blue or the blue green colour of peacock feathers. No. Aegon is lápis blue, midnight sky dusted by constellations and the Milky Way blue. The type of blue you only see up here in the deepest of winter, with no lights around for miles. The type of night sky that invites you to sleep for an eternity. Amara likes to imagine that that is where people go when they die. Just step into the night sky and rest. Aegon is blue. He looks back at her. Eyes so blue they could be colourless - liars. He’s smiling and she smiles back and walks out to him. Pops the tea on the ground by the chair. He tilts his head up to look at her, all big yes, long lashes and crows feet. Unfair really. She kisses his forehead and he smiles. “Mine”- it never sounds like a prison when the word rolls of his tongue. He bumps his forehead to hers like an unruly lamb and she can’t help but love him. There’s a sadness in him that comes with the blue, she’s not sure will ever go way. Her darling blue boy. Maybe one day if he breaks she can fill his cracks with lapis lazuli.

[portraitofadyke]

THOUGHTS ON OFMD S2 FINALE (and s2) overall

Okay, so we ended the season on a high note, and after reading a lot of people's insights here, I have a few things to say

The issue between Ed and Stede is not resolved by them moving into the inn I have seen a lot of people have conflicted feelings about this one. And guys. Nobody said it was. They have been through a lot this season; separation, Ed's spiraling, Stede's rise (and imminent fall) to infamy. And it's absolutely not meant to feel resolved. They just went through something traumatic. I am pretty indifferent about Izzy (unlike most fandom), but his relationship with Ed was veery complicated, and now he's dead. He meant a lot to Ed, and how did Ed reward him for that? By torturing him, along with the crew, and shooting his leg off. Now Ed has to live with that. And somebody else pointed it out before, but Ed's solution to everything, same as Stede, is escapism. Right now, feeling like the regular guy who runs an inn, or lives in a little cottage, is better than facing everything that's happened. Stede hasn't expressed his opinion on being a pirate still. He seemed excited at Zheng's offer to join teams. He didn't say no. And neither did Ed. Those guys have been through so much since they met, changed as people, and now they just need a moment of peace and quiet, without the world exploding around them and the responsility of the crew on their shoulders to talk it out. Live with each other. Throghout the whole season, they did not have a chance to actually talk about what they want. Now they can

Jenkins himself said the relationship is not complete without a third act. This is not meant to be the finale for them. We're not supoosed to see the united Revenge off into the sunset and expect that to be the end. if we do have a third season, we should see how these two manage the quiet life, if they have the conversations they should. It's unresolved for a reason

Ed has serious issues that will not dissolve just because he moved in with the love of his life Ever since we are introduced to Blackbeard in s1, we see how very reactive he is, how erratic. he can't stand criticism, can't stand being told what to do, anything uncomfortable to him he lashes out at. We see some growth with that this season, BUT There's the thing nobody really talks about. In s1, during the Fuckery, Ed tells Stede he hasn't actually killed anyone since his dad. he just maims. And we believe it; Ed is very good at making people believe what he wants them to believe, he's a tactical genius, he could pull not-killing and being a notorious legend just with maiming. BUT We see it contradicted in the next episode. With Jack, who tells Stede about how Ed set a whole ship on fire. When asked about his supposed 'ban on killing' by Stede, Ed answers that 'Technically, the fire did it.' We move on. Makes you wonder how many times 'technically, something else did it' before. Then, Stede leaves him on the beach, Ed goes back to the ship, and after being vulberable in front of the crew, he wants it to stop. Wants the feelings to stop. Wants to hide behind the comfort of the insanity and ruthlessness of Blackbeard. The first thing he does? Gets rid of the person who saw him hurting the most, Lucius, and throws him overboard. That should be his first direct kill since his father, if we believe his claim, and it goes downwards from there. We start s2 with Ed completely derranged. He's pushing his crew to their limits and beyond. He's clearly indifferent to his crew dying (Ivan). He's high and drunk and it's implied that he kills recklessly now. he drives everyone around himself, Including himself, to insanity. We see him passively trying to kill himself, because like Stede said, he will either burn the world down or die trying, and like Izzy said, he's too much of a coward to do it himself. He's breaking Ned's record not to prove that he can (bc he knows he can and just doesn't care, he's notorious enough, this isn't about his legacy anymore), but because he hopes it will get Ned on his track. He hopes Ed will kill him, if no one of the crew will. He gives the gun to Izzy. Asks him to kill him. he doesn't. So what does he do? He intentionally sails his boat into a deadly storm. When everyone is too scared to stop him, he carries on. He will either drown everyone, or somebody will kill him. During the storm, while Ed is in his final breakdown, we see multiple crew members go overboard, lost to the sea. That's another dozens deaths on Ed's conscience. When the crew finally turns on him, he's relieved to die. He can't wait. In the gravy basket, he finally admits to himself that he hates himself. He thinks he's unlovable. Should be unlovable. And as much as I adore the scene where Stede essentially coaxes him back to life with his love, proving the opposite (the mermaid is a cinematic masterpiece), Ed's deep laying issues that started with coming from an abusive household and ending with being a crazy, tortutous maniac will not be cured by true love's kiss.

In the finale, he obviously kills a lot of people. And so does Stede. I love that he got his hero moment. I love that he got to use the thing he's good at. But. He killed people recklessly. We see him stab, shoot, snap necks, choke. If we are to believe he hasn't killed since his dad until Lucius, did he start being okay with death during his crazy reign on the Revenge? Will he hate himself more for it? What will he do with himself now? And Stede, somebody who had flashbacks about an accidental death, now killed more than one person who threatened his crew. his Family. How will he deal with that on his conscience?

Go do the thing you're good at and stick to it Pardon me if those are not the exact words, but that's what the fisherman tells to Ed. Ed who dreamt about a normal life ever since leaving his home, maybe before that, since his dad did nothing but abuse his family. Immediately, he fishes out the leathers and goes back to being Blackbeard, because he is the most famous pirate for a reason. Only to go to an inn with Stede. Ed's perception of the normal life is a fantasy. When he thinks he's living the live of a good, conent fisherman, he's actually doing fuckall. He's never had a chance to be a normal guy, and I don't think he will like it. Stede didn't like it, either. And now they have each other, sure, and it's different when you don't have to pretend to be somebody else and be with someone you truly love, who gets you, but. It will not last. Ed will find out how boring and mundane everyday life is.

Co-captains So obviously, since a lot has been going on, these two need to lay low for a bit. Find out what life should be for the two of them if they just live. No piracy, no crime. Like we said, it will not last. They are both restless, born to move. Not to mention either of them is exactly mentally stable. We have seen them together on the ship plenty, sure. Ed mentoring Stede about piracy, Stede Ed about finery. Then, finally, their relationship moves on and they realise they are significant to each other, and they decide to be co-captains. If you find two people perfect enough for each other. It's new. It sounds like the novelty Ed needs and the support and respect Stede craves. But we never really see it. Stede leaves. Ed goes crazy. Stede saves the crew. Ed tries to earn forgiveness. Now Stede is the captain. We have a small moment of peace (between s5 and 6) where they probably could be just co-captaining. And then, when Zheng offers them to join up, we never really see that. My guess is that's what we should be getting in s3.

So much importance on family just for Stede and Ed to see them off So my biggest nightmare for the finale, just like everyone else's, was the crew splitting up. To me, this show is as much about acceptance of queenress as it is about found family. They will be reuinted. They are a family. Overall, it was rushed, but still better than 99% of other tv shows.

[raytm]

the two of them had a proclivity for it, staying out until the morose gray of the sky receded into darkness, until stars scattered across its canvas, softly lambent. they had conversed in explicit detail about what they anticipated might lay beyond its tenebrous bulwark. gepard was convinced he could have become indulgent, listlessly meandering those quiet hours between dusk and dawn. he had never spoken it aloud, bereft of autonomy over his life he knew, without room for doubt, that it would not accommodate devotion for any other than their people. but he could have, given the chance, counted the freckles that spread across leo’s shoulders and found himself just as hopelessly lost. he granted himself the freedom to yearn in the abject melancholy of silence, with only a slither of hope that he might find contentment should the two of them drive back the fragmentum in tandem. It was injudicious for him to think he would be afforded such mercies, even across the pit from him, avidly listening to his tales of vapid training regimes and superiors with haughty dispositions and acrid tongues, he felt he was staring too intently, for far too long. gepard steeled himself, for his long lashes and piercing green eyes were enthralling, the sort of person who could usher others to their feet, rallying under their banner. they were young, the sort to be filled with zest for their futures, but also the kind of people who lived as a fierce fire often did, short and reduced to cinders far too soon. they laughed often, traveled as a pair, when sparring training arose they would hastily stumble into each other, grasping for weapons and their footing. It gave him faith, bestowed upon him the capacity to want to protect something. if his father’s tirades of virtue and honour had offered him one thing, it was the room in his heart for someone like Leo. sometimes, he spoke upon how unjust their world was. how all were not bestowed the same cardinal freedom that they were, that the segregation of their people was egregious, that he would march down there himself and do something about it if their superiors did not watch in hawkish vigils. gepard wanted to change things, it was not that he did not know how wrong things were, it was that, until this moment, no one had the audacity to speak it out loud. the supreme guardian made decisions which reverberated through all of belobog, but when he pronounced that they would be the ones to bring about change, he felt, if for a moment, that it was within his power to do so. gepard was the one to give the eulogy days after they returned from that mission, the casualties too great to fully comprehend and gepard landau’s side woefully empty. to die young was not unusual for the guard, their world was inhospitable and the monsters ruthless but someone had to rise to press back against the encroaching danger. it was then, in those hours of bitter silence, as the caskets were assembled and the mourners gathered, that he realized what it meant to be a shield for the people. that he promised himself he would not allow another to fall the way that his comrades had, he would make sure of it. 

[jimmycarterghostland]

Good Girl Mari Needs To Happen

Mari from Yellowjackets is an interesting character. She's not considered one of the mains(Natalie, Misty, etc) She's more of a side character who isn't quite one of the big players.

Throughout season one she was a one-note mean girl. Season 2 added some depth to her, showing her crying, and even hugging Lottie in the finale of the season. In season one, Mari was actually mean to Lottie. Probably in all their one-on-one interactions.

I doubt Mari will ever respect Natalie as her leader. Mari adores Lottie, and it will be interesting to see how Mari interacts with Natalie in season three. Will Mari let her dislike for Natalie be known? The only two people Mari seems to sincerely like are Lottie and Akilah, so I am sure Mari doesn't like Natalie either.

Moving on.

Here's what I want to see for Mari's character in the future:

Good Girl Mari. That's what I want to see.

Season one had Lottie on a path to evil, but in between S1 and S2 that idea was clearly thrown out. Lottie in season 2 is more of a Jesus figure. The personality switch was jarring, and that evil wilderness queen build-up from S1 was all for nothing.

Mari, though. She's got noticeable character development going on. She's still a jerk, but becoming less of one. When she hugs Lottie in the S2 finale, Mari tells her she's glad she's okay. Sadly, Akilah being involved in the hug too lessened the impact. But still. That moment proved Mari can be good. And seeing these characters devolving into ruthless people who hunt their own friends, it would be nice to see a character who doesn't. Or no longer wants to.

I want that character to be Mari.

I saw a post on Reddit showing a girl post-rescue who might be Mari. I'm hoping it wasn't. Because it would be great if Mari turns out to be Pit Girl and that she refused to draw a card, which automatically made her into the ritual sacrifice. Perhaps could've refused because she no longer wanted to hunt and eat her friends anymore.

If the show does that with Mari, I would absolutely love it. Before Ben set the cabin on fire, he was the moral, compassionate member of the group. This show needs a new one. Badly. I want that person to be Mari. If the showrunners go that route, if they turn Mari into a person who wants the murderous cannibalism to stop, wants them all to stop being monsters, and wants everyone to make it home, that would be amazing.

It could be realistic character development too. Unlike the jarring personality switch we got with Lottie. How she was talking about spilling blood in season one, but is all goody-two shoes in season two.

A lot of people are betting that Mari is Pit Girl. Many are hoping that she is. If she is PG, I hope the show uses my "Good Mari refused to participate in the choose-a-sacrifice card game" idea.

I need to see this girl Mari go from cold-hearted bully to cannibalism-hating saint. I feel like this is the best way the showrunners could use her character. I don't want to see her character used any other way. Unfortunately, my idea is just an idea, and I'm not a Yellowjackets showrunner, so I highly doubt everything I detailed will happen. But it is what I want to see. And I do believe the YJ staff will miss out big time if they don't make Good Good Mari happen.

The potential is there. Mari went from hating Lottie to loving her. She became one of her most devoted follower's. Mari cried after Misty lashed out at her(a show of softness that might lead to benevolence). And Mari's possible hatred of Natalie being the leader might just make Mari eventually dislike the whole cannibalism thing and cult stuff. It might bring her on the path to benevolence, one where she finds a way to survive without killing and eating people. Ben might find a way to do that. Maybe Mari will join him and they will live together in that secret tree lair? Ben wanted that life with Natalie. Perhaps he will get it with Mari.

I'm aching to see Good Girl Mari team up with Ben.

Mari needs to become a main character in the teen timeline. We definitely don't see enough of her. And what I want to see is Good Girl Mari happen.

[swaps55]

One more question (can't remember which ones I've asked before), a role-swap. How would Sam have fared if he had been sent to BAaT, and how would Kaidan have managed if he was the one learning from Tulak?

This is a REALLY excellent question.

Had Sam gone to BAaT, I still think he would have excelled, but I think some darker parts of his personality would have been elevated in ways that wouldn't have done him favors. If Vyrnnus tried to punch down his way, Sam would punch right back, no matter how small he was or how futile it might be. If you're keeping the same timeline, Sam would only have been 14 or so. He was a string bean kid who hadn't grown into himself. Entirely possible he gets himself killed being a smartass who doesn't know when to back down from a fight he can't win.

Guthra Tulak was tough and nurtured Sam's desire to compete and elevate himself, and genuinely wanted him to succeed, whereas Vyrnnus was out to break people. BAaT would bring out all of his aggression, make him even more emotionally detached and repressed than he already was, and I'm pretty sure he'd come out of it mean. He'd learn from Vyrnnus that it's better to lash out first and control something before it can control you, and if you can't keep up on your own, that's your problem. He’s a little like that to begin with - so Vyrnnus would have taken something that was still soft clay and fired it in the kiln until it was basically written in stone.

Sam's 'renegade' side comes mostly from detachment - emotion doesn't really factor into the things he does. He's ruthless, but not cruel. He sees a solution to a problem, and the solution is all that matters. But Vyrnnus would bring out a cruel streak in him that wouldn't lead him down a good road. Sam is not like Kaidan; Vyrnnus' cruelty only reinforced Kaidan's determination to be kind. With Sam...kindness wouldn't be the takeaway.

As for Kaidan, I think his fate would be largely determined by the kind of krogan Tulak is, and I haven't dug down deep enough to know how she would react to someone like Kaidan.

Kaidan is such an internal person. He gets stuck in his head. He's quiet. Keeps to himself. Is kind in ways that many mistake for being soft. Now, I don't think Tulak is the kind of krogan who would scoff at kindness - she's sharp enough to know that you shouldn't mistake kindness for softness - but I'm not sure how far she would go to get through to Kaidan. Sam wanted to be a biotic, and a warrior, so badly, but I don't think Kaidan does.

This is very specific to my Kaidan, but his experience as a biotic starts with an accidental flare that breaks the arm of a friend. So the very first thing he did as a biotic was hurt someone. He is predisposed right out of the gate to be afraid of himself. I'm betting Tulak doesn't fight very hard for someone who doesn't want to fight for himself, and Kaidan doesn't. So instead of excel or fail, I imagine he would just get...lost in the shuffle. Stay unremarkable compared to others. He might wind up competent, but not catch anyone's eye or stand out.

Now, if Tulak were to get a glimpse of Kaidan's protective side, and realize that protecting others is what brings out his strength, that could change. But while she is hard and tough, she isn't cruel. So the question is, what would bring out that protective side?

This was really a fascinating thought exercise, because I really think that if their positions had been reversed and they still met on the Myeongnyang, things would have gone so differently. At that first meeting in the bar, Sam would have lashed out, and Kaidan would lose all interest in trying to help him.

And if they just met on the ship, Kaidan wouldn't stand out enough to get Sam's attention, and Sam would not be the kind of person Kaidan would care to get to know, so he wouldn't try.