#and if it’s bothering me then it’s probably bothering other people too

[scap34]

No one touches what’s yours ♡

sub! sugar baby! Toji x sadistic! rich! dom! younger! male! reader

warnings: cussing, mild daddy kink, oral sex, dirty talk, degradation, implied sex, mild manipulation, mention of murder

Another shitty gala. What was this one for? A charity? Who even cared? If half the money wasted on flaunting wealth actually went to the cause, he was pretty sure there wouldn’t even be a need for charity anymore.

Instead, it was just another popularity contest. And lucky him, you happened to be the star of the show—the hot, rich jock everyone loved to worship.

What did that make him? Your cheerleader? 

Toji scowled as he downed the wine in his glass. Expensive, yet it tasted like shit. He’d already had three in the last half hour, and the buzz was barely there—a waste of both time and money.

But that wasn’t what bothered him. It was all the eyes on you. The overly flattering tone, and greedy eyes people looked at you with. His fingers itched for his blade. To paint the shiny white floor red with their blood. 

You were his. So why the hell were people so fucking close to you?

Then your cold gaze met his, and for a moment, that disinterested look melted into faint amusement. Without hesitation, you made your way toward him, leaving behind a trail of disappointed murmurs and bitter faces, none daring to voice their complaints aloud. 

Toji stayed rooted in place, arms crossed, waiting for you to come to him. When you finally did, he didn’t bother hiding his irritation. “Why the hell did you drag me to this?” he grumbled, his tone bordering on petulant—not that he’d ever admit it outright.

You had the audacity to chuckle, a soft, amused sound that only annoyed him more. “I didn’t.” You replied smoothly. “I told you, you wouldn't like it, but you insisted on coming anyway.”

Did he say that? Yes. 

Did he care? No.

“What was I supposed to do? Sit around at home like some miserable housewife?” He snapped back. 

You didn’t respond immediately, but the gleam in your eyes said everything. It was that look—the one you got right before one of your ideas. The kind that left him sore in all the right places and utterly, blissfully wrecked. 

Was it the housewife comment? Fuck, would you care about fucking him here? 

“Yeah, baby? Need your husband to make you happy?” you practically purred, your voice low and husky, dripping with amusement.

The tone alone had him shifting in place, a rush of heat racing down his body. Damn tux was too tight, but he knew better than to blame it on the suit. Knowing you, the control freak you were, you’d probably had it tailored perfectly to his measurements ages ago. Made perfectly to hug every curve of his body, all on display for your eyes.

Getting a fucking boner right now would like public exposure. 

You must have been rubbing off on him, cause the thought only served to make him more aroused.

“Y/N! What a delight to see you here!”

Your eyes shifted lazily from Toji to the man approaching, your expression unreadable. He was in his late forties, with hair that was clearly dyed to hide the gray creeping in—an attempt to cling to his youth. Everything about him screamed smug, from his tailored suit to the self-assured smirk plastered across his face.

The man practically radiated envy as he took you in. Of course he did. You were everything he wasn’t—young, rich, and devastatingly handsome. Flawless in a way that made people resent you the moment you walked into a room. And you were all his. 

“I wasn’t planning on coming,” he said, voice dripping with fake humility, “but luckily, I managed to find a spot in my schedule. I’m sure you didn’t have that problem. After all, you always attend these things, don’t you?”

He spoke loud enough for others nearby to hear, as if trying to gain some kind of upper hand in the conversation. 

You didn’t look fazed by it. The coldness in your eyes was sharp, daunting even as your lips curled into a fake, practiced smile.

“Isn’t it customary for the host to attend their own gala?” Your words were curt and polite to the point of biting cold. Throwing his words right back at him with chilling precision. 

Toji could almost hear the man’s teeth grind together in outrage at being one upped in the rich people dick measuring contest. Not that you were playing along. You didn’t need to. He could attest to how big your dick was. 

He let out a huff of laughter. The man’s eyes landed on him. The annoyance in his eyes shifted to interest as he took in Toji’s body. The tux, obviously not doing anything to hide his body. 

If this had happened anywhere else, he would’ve beaten the shit out of him. But this was your fancy gala, surrounded by those rich assholes who eyed your wealth like pesky flies. He wasn’t stupid enough to mess up your business. You’d be pissed at him, and not in a good way.

“And who is this? Your date?” The man’s slimy gazed trailed down his body. Toji had to resist the urge to shove a wine glass into his throat. 

“Yes. This is Toji.” You replied seemingly unbothered but he could see the way annoyance crept into your eyes. The way you shifted slightly closer to him. You didn’t bother introducing the man to him like you couldn’t bother with it. 

Toji bit down on his tongue, fighting the smug smile that threatened to tug at his lips. The man wasn’t important? Good, he didn’t want to play nice anyway. Toji’s eyes didn’t leave you. 

Fuck. He didn’t think you could get hotter. But you were hell bent on proving him wrong weren’t you? 

The confident, uninterested attitude of your that pissed everyone off was such a fucking turn on. Why the hell were you so hot? 

Your eyes met Toji’s heated look. Your eyes rovered down his body, sending pleasant shivers down his spine. “My sugar baby.” You added on as an afterthought. 

He hated you. You knew exactly what you were doing to him. That confident smug gleam in your eyes. You sipped your wine with a smug smile. 

Damn you. You had fucked him before coming here. So why was he getting horny again? He got less boners as a teenager during puberty. 

“Then do you mind if I have a taste? What’s a bit of sharing between business partners?” The man’s slimy voice cut between the tension. 

Your smile disappeared in a flash. Before he could react, you had an arm around his waist. A possessive hand pulling him to you. Half his body pressed against your warmth.

“He’s not a toy.” You half snarled the polite facade in your face slipping. Your arm wrapped around Toji’s waist, a possessive gesture. 

Toji’s mind short circuited at the firm possessive touch. All he could hear was his heart thumping in his chest, and feel your firm muscles against his. Your fingers felt like a brand, marking him, claiming him as yours. 

He knew he was yours. But this just cemented it. It wasn’t something that had been there but never acknowledged anymore. It was real. He was yours. And you were his. 

He barely remembered anything past the man paleing at the thunderous look on your face. Stuttering half apologies even as his face burned with embarrassment and anger. Leaving as soon as possible. 

Toji didn’t give a fuck about him anymore. 

The innocent touch of your hand on his waist, made heat pool in his stomach. Your gesture was possessive, and demanding. He loved it. 

Despite the fact that he could have easily defended himself, or even killed that scumbag, this was better. You defending him with possessive anger burning in your eyes. A scowl on your lips as you protect him. This was so much better. 

He didn’t even notice when you led him out the hall. Only when your eyes met his, did he kiss you. Pushing you up against the wall, body grinding against yours. 

His lips pressed against yours, hungry for more. You easily took back control, after your initial surprise. Kissing back ruthlessly, plundering Toji’s mouth. Fucking his mouth with your tongue. 

He pulled away panting softly, and leaned his body against yours. The hard line of his erection pressing against your thighs. He resisted the urge to grind against you. 

You recovered quickly, a sadistic smile spreading on your lips. “Hard from a kiss, baby?” You cooed, your hand moving to cup his clothed cock. Your thumb flicked the head of his cock. The movement had him moaning, expensive fabric rubbing against his sensitive head in delicious ecstasy 

“It’s your fault.” He whined, shifting his body to hump your thigh, more dog in heat than an experienced killer. Need burned in his body like a drug. He wanted you. Wanted your cock in his hole, taking what was yours. Making him yours inside and out. 

“What a needy slut.” Your eyes were dark, all consuming. He wanted you so fucking bad. He humped against your thigh, pants falling for his kiss swollen lips. “Need to be fucked that bad?”

“Yes,” he practically whined. The thought of your cock had him salivating. His hips rolling against yours. You didn’t even look bothered, the dark look in your eyes only gave it away. 

“My needy cock whore,” you cooed lowly, your tone anything but sweet. “Don’t worry, daddy will fuck you good.” The nickname and the way your fingers squeezed his ass, had him melting into your arms like putty. 

“Mhmm yes please.”

…

“Who was that guy anyway?” He asked suddenly, a few days after the gala. You looked over at him, your fingers paused typing. All your attention on him, he almost wanted to change the topic, just so your focus stayed on him.  

A live horse race played on the tv. Like a typical day, you spent your time working near him, like the possessive asshole you were.

“What guy?” 

“That asshole who tried to hit on me.” He said vaguely unsure how to describe him. All he could remember was getting fucking into the sheets. Your voice muttering praises into his ear each time you started a new round. 

“Him? Don’t worry about it. I got rid of him.” You said turning back to typing on your computer. He blinked at you incedulously. That was it?

You got rid of him? 

“What,” his throat felt dry, he licked his lips. “Did you do?” He didn’t even know what he was expecting to hear. 

You didn’t even look away from your laptop to answer. “Exposed a few scandals and destroyed his company. His reputation and business are gone now.” You retorted coldly, working on your laptop.

He blinked at you, dazed, bewildered by your words. He knew you were cruel. The words tycoon most commonly used with you. You had to be cruel to make it to the top at such a young age. He knew that too. But it felt different experiencing it firsthand. You’d destroyed someone’s business and reputation for him.

He didn’t want to bring up that he could take care of himself. That he was the sorcerer killer. A weak human was nothing to him. He’d been taunted all his life for being the black sheep of the Zen’in family. For running away. For all the money he lost gambling. 

But you were different. You were a bastard. He knew that. You’d humiliate him. Push his body to the limit. But you’d also caress his cheeks and praise him. He was yours and you found nothing wrong with him. You were an oddity he didn’t mind.

He tugged your computer away from you. You let him, looking a bit bemused. He gently placed it on the table and straddled your thighs, his knees on either side of you.

His hard cock pressed against yours. You looked up at him with a raised brow. Your hands wrapped around his waist, rubbing circles. He grinded down on your cock, making your breath hitch, eyes darkening with lust. 

“Toji? What are you doing?” You asked huskily. Your hands encouraged his hips as he grinded down. Your cock rapidly growing harder. 

“Nothing,” he replied mischievously. His hands ran up his thigh, and disappeared under his shirt. Under your hungry gaze he played with his chest. Moaning when he pinched his dusty pink nipple, the pain mixed with pleasure.

“Yeah? How about I give you something to do then baby?” you muttered huskily. Your hands held his hips as you smirked. “Why don’t you suck my cock, baby?” 

His grinding nearly stopped if it wasn’t for your hands moving his hips, in slow circles. His cheeks flushed pink in embarrassment. 

Suck your dick? He’d never done that before. But he couldn't help but want it. The idea made him harder. 

You could see his reluctance and palmed his clothed cock. “Be a good boy, Toji and suck me off.” He flushed darker, at your blunt words. His cock strained against his flimy pants, pre-cum smeared onto it. 

He nodded weakly. There wasn’t any chance he’d refuse anyway. He was weak for you.

…

“I can’t,” he sobbed, around your cock. The sound sent bolts of pleasure. Red marks on your thighs, where your baby dug his fingers in too hard. The pain barely registered to you. Not when the pleasure was so strong. 

You held back a smirk and frowned. “Already baby? I haven’t even cum yet.” Toji let out another frustrated sob. The sound reverberated through you making you bite back a groan.

“Please please ple’se can’t,” he begged, rubbing his cheek against your cock like a puppy. Like it would make you give in. You wouldn’t say it’s Toji’s fault for not making you cum. That was all you. Making him take a dildo as he sucked you off. You conveniently forget to tell it was also a vibrator. He’d came immediately when the vibrations started. And again when you increased it. 

The view didn’t help you. Fat pecs bouncing with each movement, trembling thighs parted lewdly, showing off his useless cock. His own cum staining his thighs messily. You had half a mind to turn him around so you can see the way his hole took the toy. 

But then you’d miss the dumb slutty look on his face. The fucked dumb look on your baby’s face. Cheeks flushed red, tears clinging to his lashes too stubborn to fall, lips bitten red and swollen, expression scrunched in pleasure and overstimulation. 

His pretty lips stretched obscenely around your cock. Messily sucking your dick, licking it like a pathetic kitten. The sight of his face could make you cum but you were holding out. After all, you had a goal in mind. 

“Come on Toji. You’re really going to leave me hanging?” You usually never called him by his name during sex. Your baby caught on. His hands clenched tighter and he tried to please you. Messy and sloppy. You loved it. 

“Ple’se t’rn it off,” he pleaded looking at you with desperate tear filled eyes. It just made you want to shove your cock back into his mouth and fuck his throat till his voice was hoarse. 

“Make me cum first, baby.” You replied like that other times he asked. He let out a choked sob, body trembling when you turned up the vibrations. Desperate and wreaked was the best look on your baby. 

“That needy, baby?” You can see the conflict in his eyes, all his previous confidence thrown out. Only a hazy of need and wanting to please in his eyes. He nodded lips around the head of your cock. 

“I’m going to fuck your throat then baby. Can you take it for me like a good slut?” He shivered from your words and nodded quickly. Opening his mouth obediently. 

You smirked. “Use your words baby.” He flashed a pretty red. 

“Ple’se, fuck my throat,” he pleaded weakly voice a bit hoarse. 

“As you wish, baby.” You smirked, your hands holding his hair a bit roughly. He barely winched, his cock twitching with interest. 

You had to hold back a grin as you pressed your cock into your baby’s mouth. He didn’t even gag. The perfect cock slut. You let out a groan and started to face fuck him. 

Toji barely protested, his moans sending heat pooling. Within minutes you finished onto your baby’s tongue. Toji obediently swallowed it. Hazy adoring eyes meeting yours, begging for praise. 

You chuckled and wiped your cum off his lips. “Good boy.” Your perfect baby. 

[vampiresbloodx]

arcane characters react to you flirting with them;

characters included; mel medarda, caitlyn, vi, sevika.

a/n: it ended up being more of a confession for the most part :q

Mel medarda;

Mel is used to men hitting on her all the time. It happens more than you think and more than she likes. Even during times where it's less appropriate. When Mel first met you, she thought you were strange, in a good way, she liked you instantly. You were friends with Viktor. You had your wits and humor, she liked talking with you and spending time with you when she was supposed to be doing her work.

She couldn't help but linger around you more, you probably thought she was being a creep, but you didn't seem to mind her presence, in fact, you welcomed it.

The night she wanted to come and see you, you had surprised her with your own visit.

"hi-"

"hello-"

you both paused, smiling to yourselves as she stiffs a chuckle in amusement.

you stood there, biting down on your bottom lip.

"mel-"

"yes?" mel said, giving you her full attention.

"I think... you're the most beautiful woman ive ever met, i know you probably get that a lot, but your beauty goes beyond your looks that most people only seem to see of you, i cant blame them, you're a walking goddess, i dont even know why you would even speak to me.... I" you paused, closing your eyes as she felt her heart pick up a pace, as she watches you carefully gather yourself. "I like you. I know i could never be worthy enough to actually date you..."

before you could say more you felt arms wrap around your neck, pulling you in as you smelt her rich scent, you inhaled it in, hoping if this was a dream you wouldnt wake up.

"I've been hoping you'd come to me, I was going to tell you regardless, I'm so glad you told me."

then she kissed you. her lips felt way better than in your dreams.

Caitlyn;

You see a blue haired beauty sitting in a table not far from where the bar is, the place wasnt that loud tonight, which was weird for you. You've grown so used to the noise that the silence is a bit too much.

your other co worker, who was your friend, had finished their shift already and you were the last one left for close. people still hung around until late, business men, bikers, truckers coming in for a drink stop, group of girls coming in for some fun.

The usual.

You thought youve seen it all, then you laid eyes on her.

she was prettier than the night sky.

you wondered why she was sitting by herself looking so pretty in that blue dress, did someone set her up? did her date not come? that seems hard to believe why would anyone miss out on that.

You decided to go over to her.

"Did they not decide to show?" you started up a conversation.

Light and easy.

she looked up, not expecting anyone to talk to her.

"canceled last minute, i hope they crash."

you couldnt help but laugh at that, she smiled.

"Why would they cancel on someone as beautiful as you?" you asked, out loud, god you hoped she didn't think you were a creep.

"are you trying to fill their spot?" she asks boldly with a raised eyebrow, you stared into her gaze.

"I finish in 5."

you lied.

"Doesnt this place stay open for another hour?" she questions.

"so is that a no?"

"I never said that, see you in 5."

Vi;

usually vi would be the one to hit on girls, asking them out, taking them out on dates, flirting with them. but that all changed when she met you, a biker she fell in love with at first sight.

you had come into the bar she was already at, drinking away, she was in a mood, she had gotten in a fight and couldnt be bothered dealing with more idiots.

but you came walking in and stole her whole heart.

she thought you were a creepy man at first, trying to get in her damn pants, when she heard someone sit on the stool next to her, she wanted to curse.

but when she looked and saw you taking off your helmet, her heart stopped.

you caught her staring.

"Hi? is there something on my face?" you asked, nervous.

she wasn't expecting that.

"ah, i got it" she watched you wipe a bit off dirt away from under your eyes, she was captivated by you. "Can i get you a drink?" you asked.

thats usually her line. wait, did you just flirt with her? and she wasnt the one calling the shots?

she froze, blushing hard.

"you okay?" you asked, worried.

"yeah, yeah, uh, its nothing. ill have a whiskey."

"you like whiskey too? youve got taste" you hummed, she bit down on her lip hard.

she let you take her back to yours that night, and she doesnt regret it. neither do you.

sevika;

Sevika wasnt one to take compliments. But secretly, she had a soft spot for them. On the outside, shes rough, shes still rough on the inside, but she only shows those certain softness for those she really cares about.

She knew you for a lil while, you had come in working for Silco, she was obviously wary of you at first and kept her distance.

And a part of her always wanted to be near you.

It started with that and then it turned into something more, she couldn't stop thinking about you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off her whenever she was in the room, you felt your breath leave your body, she was a goddess.

After a few drinks, you couldnt stop yourself from going to the woman who sat by herself, you caught her eyeing you throughout the night.

Deciding your fate, you sit in the chair next to her.

"Sevika, I think you're really pretty.... like so pretty. You can hate me forever if you wanna, but I like you so much" you spilled everything to her, the whole truth, as she sat in silence and watched intensely. "wow, the power of alcohol, im.... ignore what i said, fuck, Ill leave you-"

you felt a strong grip grab your thigh, making you turn your attention back to her.

"Who said I wanted you to leave?" Sevika said with a grin, rubbing her hand on your skin causing your body to shudder from her touch. "You wanna follow me, hm, baby?" she murmured.

You nodded.

and happily followed her into the night.

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Spring (Cregan Stark x Reader)

Summary: As a Princess, you aren’t used to rejection. But Cregan, your husband, has vowed to only ever love one woman, and it isn't you. Right?

Warnings: Slightly less unreliable narrator (Cregan has come to his senses, reader is on the way) Mature language.

A/N: I really thought these two would get their mess sorted out in nine scenes, but I was far too optimistic. Lucky me, I had one season as backup! Also, thank you so, so much for continuing to read this series and your kind comments!

IT IS FUNNY, how wrong can Cregan be about people. He is no longer afraid to admit it. He had been mistaken about you. 

The utter viciousness you had displayed, bringing up his dead wife, had only been a source of anger for him at first. He had thought you an evil little bitch, unafraid of exploiting weak spots to hurt him. 

Then, he had seen you with Rickon. And his world had just… Shifted. As if every piece of furniture in Winterfell had been moved exactly one inch to the left, and no one had told him, leaving him stumbling around in his own home.

You weren’t evil or jealous. Or, more likely, you were, but not because of some petty reason, it was because you were insecure. The mere idea was laughable, why would a Princess of the Realm be insecure? But it made too much sense for him to ignore. 

Each time Cregan had cracked a joke that compared you to Arra, like commenting on the number of packages and dresses you had brought from the South, you had taken it as a personal criticism. You felt unappreciated, so you lashed out and avoided him at every turn. 

You were kind, smart, and capable. Just not in the way Cregan was used to women being capable. The northern women were considered capable because they were physically strong, able to wield bows, ride hard and long or withstand the terrible weather. 

You, instead, shared Prince Jacaerys’ strength. You were honorable, unable to leave a child in need, and kind, enough that you would comfort them until their parents reached them. But most of all, you had a brain suited for politics. 

Cregan had never noticed before because he had never bothered to truly look at what you were doing, but your charities were to make your mother’s cause more popular with the smallfolk. He had heard your mother was doing a similar thing in the capital, delivering food to the starved population due to a blockade of the own Blacks’ making. Not that the commoners cared about the last part. They only cared about those who put food on their bellies. 

And perhaps the Queen dowager and Princess Helaena were popular in the South because of their involvement in the Septs, but you were exploiting the lack of those here. Without Septs, there were no Septas or Septons tending to the sick and poor. You were. And the North would remember, when it came time to march for your mother’s banners. 

Cregan would bet Ice that you were having tea with the northern ladies not to gain friends. The Old Gods knew you were an introverted creature, painfully awkward at niceties, much like he was. It explained why the two of you were so uncomfortable with each other. You were probably entertaining the northerns to win their loyalties, knowing the combined pressure of Cregan’s oath and their wives would make his lords more eager to drop coin and men for your war. 

Oh, if Cregan got you on his side, the two of you would be a force to be reckoned with. He could already see how much security you could bring to the North, how well fed you could be during winter, if you decided to work with him and not behind him. 

You were a wonderful woman. Kind and tender to his son, smart as a whip, utterly terrifying when crossed. You would make a fine wife to any lord, and Cregan couldn’t believe how stupid he had been not to see it. You just needed to be encouraged, and Cregan, dumb as a rock, had been doing the exact opposite. 

While you hadn’t exactly been trying, Cregan was man enough to admit that part of the blame laid on him. He had been pushing you away without even realizing it, comparing you to Arra at every turn, without considering how that might come across to you. 

That ended today. He would prove himself worthy of your love and loyalty, and win you over. Cregan wasn’t a man of half measures. He would woo you or spend the rest of his life trying. 

Set in his decision, Cregan walked to your chambers. He waved off the guard’s attempt to announce him, casually strolling in. 

You were seated next to the fire, the leather-bound book you usually carried around spread over your lap. It was a heavy tome, bound in brown leather with golden engravings. It was written in High Valyrian, a language for which Cregan had little use, so he had never learned it beyond recognizing the alphabet. 

There was a striking beauty to your expression when you were at ease, the peaceful expression you wore becoming you much more than the usual frown you directed at him. Cregan found himself wondering how beautiful you must look smiling, if you looked this radiant when at peace. 

You had the sort of face to be lit up with happiness, he could already tell. His heart ached to be the one that finally coaxed it out of you.

“Princess,” Cregan calls, softly. You set your book aside, ready to get up and curtsy, but he halts you. “No need for that, wife. My ego is not so fragile I need my woman to bow to me.” 

“Lord Husband.” You reply, for once not frowning. Your face remains carefully neutral, which Cregan considers a victory. He would attribute it to his remark about his ego, but it is more likely due to guilt. He will take it regardless. 

“No need for that either, much less today.” Cregan smiles at you. “You may call me Cregan, if you wish. I am here to thank you for caring for my Rickon while I was away.” 

You look far more confused than you did before. You look like you want to approach him and run at the same time, your wool gown fluttering as you squirm in place, undecided if you are approaching or not. 

“I simply did my duty, my lord.”

Cregan’s smile widens, amused by you. 

“Singing him was part of it? By the Gods, I thought I had a wife and not a minstrel?” And the dry, northern humor doesn’t seem to suit you because you frown slightly. Cregan fights the urge to curse, instead making a mental note. You dislike being mocked, even in jest. He wonders what sharp words you had to endure in the South to be like this, and feels a wave of pity. Dark of hair and no dragon to shield you? Perhaps that was why you were far kinder to Sara than to him. He gives a tasteful cough. Or at least, his attempt at it. 

“I only meant to say you went beyond your duties, and I thank you for it. You didn’t have to, but it meant the world to him.” Cregan tries again, and you blink at him, as if he were unable to understand anything at all. 

“He is a child.” You say, slowly.  “No person would leave a child in need.” 

“You would be surprised.” Cregan thinks of how his own mother had treated Sara when she had arrived at Winterfell, treatment that hadn’t improved when his aunt took on as the Lady of the household. His sister had only known freedom after Cregan had taken over his seat, and she was still judged by the rest of the North, even though in a much subtle manner. 

“Mmm.” Your reply is noncommittal. 

“He has been asking me lately why he doesn't have a lady mother.” Cregan attempts again. He is not above using Rickon to have an excuse to spend time with you. And to his amusement, it does work. You pity his son more than him, it seems because you begin to pay him more attention.  

“What did you tell him?” You tilt your head to the side, curious. It’s a surprisingly cute gesture for the unshakable princess that you are. 

“I do not know. I have not answered him.” Cregan searches for somewhere to sit, but apart from the loveseat in which you are soaking up the warmth of the fireplace, there is none. He grabs the stool by your writing area, and brings it over. 

He sits on the stool across from you, wiggling a bit with how uncomfortable it is. It feels like his knees are on his chest, by the Gods. It’s clearly meant for a shorter person. Your rooms are not made for receiving visitors, he should have thought of that earlier. You need a space to receive people that isn’t the sitting room. What if you wish to have more private conversations?

“Surely he knows she is dead?” You are too caught up in your disbelief to protest that he is rearranging your furniture. Good. 

“He does, but doesn’t quite grasp what dead means.”  Cregan is being honest. Whoever has the heart to explain to a child of two namedays what death is, is a braver man than him. 

“Perhaps you could say she is in the Seven Heavens?” Your frown comes back, but this time it isn’t angry. Instead, it’s puzzled. You are trying to help him, and it makes him fight the urge to smile. He doesn’t want you to think that he is mocking your suggestion. 

“We do not believe that here.” 

“Neither do I.” And this time, there is the barest beginning of a playful smile on your lips. Oh, you minx! Cregan smiles to himself, charmed. It emboldens him to continue. 

“Just, I would like it if you saw him more often. With me. Perhaps… He has asked about you, and I am not asking you to replace her but I… He sometimes needs a more feminine touch.” 

“Of course.” You agree. And he can see in your eyes you think he might be trying to use you as a stand in for Arra, not truly believing his words, but that is alright. Cregan will show you. Or at least, he is going to do his very best attempt. 

YOU MAKE SURE there are enough pastries and hot water available before you stand up.

“I am afraid I must leave you, my ladies. But you are welcome to continue enjoying the hospitality of Winterfell.” The sitting room is filled with northern women. You have begun inviting them for tea twice a moon, trying to ensure your mother will have all the support she needs when she takes King’s Landing. 

It has proven to be quite the difficult task. Northerns are often suspicious of outsiders, and from what you have learned through these gossip sessions, they rarely marry southrons. The only ones who do are the most important Houses, like the Starks or the Boltons. It means that most of your ladies are northern by birth, and not through marriage as you are. 

“This early?” Lady Mormont asks, bluntly. Her bluntness had discomfited you during your first meetings, but you have come to find it refreshing. “Princess?” She tacks on, remembering she is supposed to mind her courtesies with you. 

“This early.” You confirm, with a smile. You have planned the time of this tea with precision for this same motive, knowing it will appeal to their loyalty, but also allow you to escape the socializing. “I have a play date with my Lord Husband and little Rickon.” 

One of the ladies coos. Lady Mormont barks out a laughter. 

“Ah, to be a young woman with that many suitors.” 

“Only the very best.” You smile, and leave them to feast on the pastries. 

You make your way to Cregan’s solar at a leisure pace. The crushed velvet gown you are wearing is in a blue so pale it almost looks like the gray of House Stark. It is one of your old ones, meant to evoke House Velaryon’s colors. It fits you again, having gained a bit of weight during your time in the North. You hope it is a gown suitable for playing with a toddler. 

As you enter, you notice Rickon is arriving as well, tugged along by a maid. He chirps a greeting to you, a mix of your name and title that sounds more like gibberish. Yet, you are helpless to him.

“Rickon!” You kneel by him, as he runs to be picked up. You indulge him, smelling his hair as you lift him. He smells of sweet innocence, and a bit like Cregan. You hate that you cannot hate him or be indifferent any longer. The little boy has stolen your heart. 

Rickon gives you a toothy smile, his hands clumsily going to cup your face. Who can resist him? Not you. 

“I see you found each other.” Cregan leans against the door, smirking. He holds two cups. “Warm milk with honey. For the cold.”

You cannot help but smile a little. 

“Our knight in shining armor!” You tease, more for Rickon’s benefit than him. “Let us in, good Ser. So I can place my little wildling down and he can drink it.” 

Cregan laughs and moves aside to let the two of you pass. As you do so, you cannot help but notice how much space he takes up, tall and wide. Your eyes linger on his shoulders. You have not seen him wield Ice yet, but you have seen the sword. He has to have considerable strength to do so. 

The thought is strangely thrilling. Your stomach does a somersault, but before you have time to analyze it, Rickon begins to squirm in your arms. 

“Down! Down! Doggie!” He pleads. You look to see what has caught his attention and notice that Cregan has moved the rug so it lays by the fireplace, and placed some of Rickon’s toys there, including his more favored one: A soft cotton white wolf. 

You set Rickon down and take one of the cups from Cregan. Both of you sit down on the rug as well, and watch Rickon play with his wolf, ignoring his cup of milk. You have come to learn that playing with an only child is much different than playing with your younger siblings, Rickon mostly plays alone and wants you there to show you things. 

It forces you to keep conversations with your husband, if only because the silence would be too awkward otherwise. 

“I have arranged for us to have tea when Rickon tires.” Cregan informs you, a bit stiff.

“Oh, I already had tea with the…” You start, before Cregan interrupts you. 

“You are far too thin still. Besides, I know your tea spreads are made of mostly northern sweets. I asked the cooks to make one of your favorites, Prince Jacaerys was kind enough to set up correspondence for me with the cooks of Dragonstone.” 

It’s awfully thoughtful of him, and you will examine it later because your mind is still stuck on one tiny detail. One that infuriates you. 

“You are corresponding with Jace?” You ask, trying hard not to sound violent. After all, he has been very kind to you as of late, and guilt has begun to creep in for your careless words about his late wife. Not that you will apologize or anything. You intend to pretend nothing happened and be extra nice to Cregan, indulging Rickon and him on all the tea and play dates in the world. 

“I am. He would be very pleased if you stopped burning his letters.” His tone is chiding, though gentle. You take a deep breath in. Jace, the traitor. Cregan keeps his tone kind. “He still grieves your brother, Princess. Do not make him mourn a sister in life.” 

“Does he think I shall never forgive him?” You ask him, baffled. Rickon begins building a tower with blocks on the rug, insisting that the two of you aid him in building Winterfell, so Cregan’s answer is delayed. As you place some blocks to make the entrance, you have time to think over his words. 

All alone in Dragonstone, Jace must be feeling as lonely as you are. Only more because he has no Cregan and Rickon to stand with him. 

What he had done was a deep betrayal in your eyes, but was it truly? You had known you would have to marry eventually, and it probably wouldn’t be a love match. Jace had done the best he could in the terrible circumstances you were in. Moved by his fear of losing another sibling, he had entrusted you to Cregan because he thought you could be happy here. Safe. 

And you were. There was no fiercest protector for you apart from your husband. After marrying him, no one had dared even to breathe the rumors of your bastardy, and he even worried about what you ate, by the Gods’ sake!

“You can hold a grudge.” Cregan says, cautiously, when Rickon is distracted by his cup of milk and begins to attempt drinking it. Usually, drinking his milk is followed by passing out, so he is careful to support him in his lap. The sight makes your chest feel oddly warm. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

This was bad. 

You were falling in love with Cregan. 

“Perhaps I don’t want to any longer.” You say, looking into his eyes. You are no longer speaking of Jace. 

Cregan seems to catch on your meaning because he reaches forward and takes your hand in his. Fixated on how big and warm his hand feels against yours, you almost miss his soft words. 

“Neither do I.”

SARA’S EYES, GREY and so much like his father’s, are fixed on him. Cregan tries to ignore her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of appearing uncomfortable. But before the hour passes, he is squirming in his chair, unnerved by her silent stare. 

Sara continues to stare. Cregan refuses to speak to her. After a while, she sets down the book she has taken from his shelves, a dreadfully boring account of the battles fought by the Kings of Winter, and perches her chin in her hands. 

That way, her staring is much more obvious. She is comfortably laid back in one of the armchairs he has in his solar. Cregan likes company when he works, and it’s easier to ask for her opinion if she is right there. Unfortunately, it also means she can stare at him for hours on end if she so wished.

“What?” Cregan asks, when he can’t take it any longer. He pushes away the reports about the safety of Wintertown and how prepared they are for winter, and looks up at her. She still doesn’t speak. “Sara!” 

“Apologies, brother.” By her smile, she is anything but sorry. “I just find it fascinating.” 

Cregan sighs. He doesn’t really want to bite, but if he doesn’t, Sara’s teasing will get worse and worse.

“What is fascinating?” 

“How you have managed to turn into a spineless southron in less than two moons.” Cregan can only gape at her. What is she going on about? “Not only have you turned timid, you are also a moron. And cunt struck. Well, are you? I know you are not getting any, does one need to actually be bedding the woman to be cunt…” She doesn’t even finish her words, cackling with laughter.

His face grows hot, burning with embarrassment. 

“I should have married you to an Umber and be done with it.” He mutters, under his breath, which only makes her cackle further. Both of them know that Sara would never be married off as if she were some cattle. Cregan loves her too much for it, and she is a deeply independent woman. 

“Who would advise you, then?” She asks him, brazenly. “Your sweet little wife? While she is great at wrangling lords and ladies, I doubt she has the stomach for warfare.” 

“There is a certain innocence to these Velaryons, yes.” At his words, Sara glares. She hates to be reminded she had not been as immune as she liked to think she was to Prince Jacaerys’ charms. “But if the worst comes to pass, I actually intend to have her hold Winterfell alongside you and Rickon.” 

“There must always be a Stark in Winterfell.” Sara approves. “Shall you march south, Rickon and I will suffice.” 

“I wish to begin teaching her, when she no longer seems willing to murder me.” 

“I think she isn’t willing to murder you any longer.” And it is as good of an endorsement he will get from Sara. 

“She still seems to think I do not love her.” Cregan whines. 

“Because you mention Arra all the time. I have heard it’s in bad taste, but what would I know?” Sara rolls her eyes. “I am just some bastard girl.” 

“Are you simply going to complain or will you help me?” Cregan looks at her and tries giving her his best pleading look. Then, he decides to stroke her pride. “You know I always seek your council, even above other lords.” 

“Even above Lord Cerwyn?” Her mouth purses in a dubious pout. Fuck. His sister or his best friend? In the end, the choice is easy. Sara is here now, after all. 

“Of course.”

Sara positively beams. 

“You should tell him so.” Her rivalry with him had never made any sense to him, they had known each other since childhood, too. The man didn’t even care about who her mother had been and never took insult with her… Well, insults. Plural. Always thrown at him by Sara. Now that he thought of it, his friend always sought excuses to see Sara. Odd. “Loudly. But I am feeling generous and not demand that you do so immediately. I shall gloat in my victory, and it will be even sweeter if he doesn’t know.” 

“Your advice?” Cregan asks, tiredly. The Gods knew that she would talk circles around him if he let her. She was honest, but she also had a gift for courtly speech that Cregan despised. 

“Women like gifts. Or I do. And I am a woman.” Sara shrugs. “She is a Princess, of course she does too. And don’t just gift her anything.” 

“I would never be…” That stupid, Cregan wishes to add, but Sara is still speaking. 

“Gift her something special. Something unique, tailored to her. And especially, something that you wouldn’t gift practical Arra.” 

Cregan stares at Sara. Sara stares back. Then, very pointedly, she picks up her book and continues to read. The message is clear. He will not get any further help. 

Still, her advice lingers. In the coming days, Cregan cannot shake the thought, regardless of what he is doing. As he inspects his men, as he reads during his spare time, even as he bathes. All Cregan thinks of is you, and a gift that would please you. 

He even dares ask Rickon. His suggestion of a direwolf isn’t exactly bad. It’s just difficult on its execution, and not something Cregan would choose when thinking of a gift for you. 

He discards many more ideas, from rolls of myrish lace to donations to your charities. You ran far too cold to wear the former, and the latter wouldn’t truly be a gift to you. He wastes nearly a week coming up with a suitable idea, and two more corresponding with the Prince, the Maester at Dragonstone, and securing the goods he needs. 

It’s all worth it, when he takes a look at the finished present and can know that you will love it. 

[leilawanderingaround]

I miss him already... Phainon, come home but don't come back like Kevin. Hoyo, I beg of you.

“I don’t know who you are, nor why you’re here.”

It is common to be wary of strangers, especially at this dark time when the black tide continues to wreak havoc on the people of Amphoreus. So when the supposed savior of the world suddenly appeared outside of the golden gate of Okhema, you were already expecting the worst. Aglaea’s golden threads were wrapped tightly around every corner of the city, ready to attack at any moment. Three gates were opened by the Tribios, prioritizing the civilian’s life above all.

And you—one of the best soldiers of Okhema, born with Oronyx’s blessing—were ready to raise your sword and strike if needed.

“At your order, my lady,” You said, standing before Aglaea. Your sword raised, shielding her figure from the deliverer. Her golden thread too, wrapped around your arms in a form of protection.

“At ease, my dear.” She smiles reassuringly. “Three against one is quite an advantage, isn’t it?”

“But let me make this one thing CLEAR”

Your sword clashed against his as Aglaea’s golden thread surrounded you two, waiting for the right time to attack. With one more clash, you successfully push him far away enough to create a distance between the two of you. He is a natural fighter but his moves lack skill. This boy probably picked up sword fighting not long ago without anyone to guide him. And unfortunately for him, you have way more advantage over speed and experience on the battlefield.

With one sweep move, your sword pressed against his neck as the golden threads immobilized his limbs.

“Deliverer, state your business here at Okhema.’ Aglaea gracefully drops down next to you, her eyes coldly staring at Phainon’s bound form. You can also hear the sound of wings clapping nearby, the Tribios too are here.

“I’ve got people to PROTECT. Friends I can’t NEGLECT. So I’m not taking chances, dear”

“So Aedes Elysiae has fallen I see.” You sigh as you watch The Tribios tend to the white-haired man’s injuries. You refused Tribbie’s help earlier since there was barely any wound. Sure, Phainon was able to cause a bruise or scratch here and there but nothing major enough to ask for help.

“I’m very sorry for your loss. Is there anyone beside you who survived the Black Tide? Okhema is always willing to lend a helping hand,” Aglaea said, though her facial expression didn’t change much. Aglaea has changed a lot since the time you first got to know her.

She was colder and more calculated. And the same thing could probably be said about you. The Chrysos Heirs are willing to use every scheme and face every criticism as long as Amphoreus remains standing.

Even if it meant getting rid of one of their own…

Ever so slightly, Aglaea’s threads remain wrapped, invisible to other’s eyes. And your hand still rests upon the handle of your sword.

“If you make one WRONG move, then you’re DONE for

Anything I don’t APPROVE, then you’re DONE for”

“ Castrum Kremnos too will fall in the hand of Nikador” you said to Mydeimos, not very much bothered by the heavily injured state that you are in. If Thanatos wanted to claim your soul, they would have to earn the right to it. “ I’m sorry to disappoint you. What you are doing right now won’t change anything. The loss of my life won’t make a difference, not for you and not for Kremnos either.”

As The Undying, everyone you inflict on his body soon disappears yet the fatigue is clear on Mydei’s body. He groans, sending another wave of spike your way, impaling your arm yet you barely react to it. Your words though cold, said nothing but the truth. Despite the blessing that Oronyx has granted to you, you are not a Chrysos Heir. Your blood isn’t golden, your body is not suited to bear a core flame. You can do nothing to change Kremnos’s fate.

So all of Mydei’s effort to locate and catch you off guard to force you to help him was all for naught.

“Then tell me, oh blessed one?” Mydei has to take in a deep breath to stop himself from shouting at you, his gaze lingers on your heavily wounded yet still-standing body “What am I supposed to do now?”

“You could either go with me and eventually avenge your people by killing Nikador. Or you could accept your fate here and be frozen in time by my hand.” You said, letting out a heavy breath. Your vision began to go blurry from the blood loss.

“Still acting so high and mighty even now? You could barely move, oh dear blessed one.” Mydei let out an amused laugh. Such is a person worthy of the title of the str, strongest soldier of Okhema.

“Oh, I am no longer suited to fight in this state. I will have to lend this honor to another person. I’m sure he is worthy of your challenge.” You shake your head, already sensing the hurried footsteps of Phainon. “My mission here is done.”

Behind you, the figure of Phainon began to materialize. His body drenched in blood, blade held tight by his hand. He approaches you, using his cloak to cover your battered form. “I’m sorry, teacher. It seems like I was late”

You chuckled at the pitiful tone of his voice “No, no, I think you came at the perfect time.”

I could put a spell on YOU, and you’re DONE for

Boy, you better RUN, or soon you will be DONE for”

[literatooru]

𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐬

pairing: f!reader x gojo satoru

most people, if asked to describe satoru gojo, would not choose to say rational; and time and time again, he seems to prove them right.

there he is, waiting for his coffee order, when he notices a guy that looks terribly fixated on a certain spot in space, somewhere around the far corner near the door. when he follows the guy’s line of vision, he finds… well, you. is it him or do you look a little bored?

no, no; he’s right. your eyes seem exceptionally blasé when you scout the perimeter of the place, your arms crossed across your chest and the barest hint of a pout on your lips.

his, on the other hand, curve upward with mischief. with his index finger stretching to push his dark glasses further up the bridge of his nose, he takes his order when his name is called, then makes his way toward the guy.

“she’s pretty, huh?” he queries, taking a deliberate sip of his beverage.

gojo doesn’t bother to even look at him. it’s obvious, he supposes, that he’s talking to the guy, from his words, and the fact that he just jabbed his elbow against his ribs.

the guy is seemingly startled at first (and with good reason), but he relaxes when he senses the white haired man holds no ill intent toward him.

“yeah,” he breathes out. “gorgeous. stunning, actually.”

at that, satoru’s eyebrows shoot up, and he gives an appreciative hum. he gives a friendly whack to the man’s chest and nods at you.

“why don’t you ask her out then?”

the guy beside satoru nods slowly as he ponders the suggestion, brows pinching in determination as the feeling grows. gojo takes another sip of his drink to conceal his smile, although it doesn’t really matter; the man’s too focused on you to even spare him a glance.

“i think i will.”

“what if she’s with someone though,” gojo adds with an exaggerated sigh, his shoulders sagging as he rests his elbow on the man’s shoulder.

his companion frowns.

“i don’t think that matters,” he mutters. it takes everything in gojo not to cackle out loud; he had him pegged him exactly right, it seems. 

“she’s definitely with someone.”

“i mean, he’s probably some prick, right? and i’m right here. she can’t possibly say no to me. and if she does, well... i have my ways.”

“ask for her number then. go,” gojo says with the brightest grin ever as he gives a small, encouraging shove to his back. “go, buddy. i’ll be rooting for you.”

the guy nods again.

“thanks, man.”

and with that, he’s off. and gojo chuckles against his cup.

the guy appears to be terribly eager—he makes a beeline for you as if he’s desperate to breath the same air as you. which, to be frank, every single person in here is doing.

and all gojo does is watch the train-wreck unfold from afar.

he purses his lips to fight a smile once more, intently observing as you scowl at the guy. you shake your head. the guy moves closer. you look like you’re about to strike him right in the face.

“y/n?” the barista calls.

“oh, here,” gojo says as he perks up, reaching for the drink that’s just been placed on the counter. “thanks, have a good day,” he adds with a winning grin.

gojo takes one final sip to empty his cup before tossing it in the trash without looking (needless to say, it goes in), and starts to make his way over to you, just in time to hear what the guy is saying.

“…and i know you want me too. come on, baby girl, we’d be perfect for each other.”

“i already said no,” you reply through gritted teeth. “now get off my face if you don’t want me to—” 

“all right,” gojo says under his breath before slapping a hand on the man’s shoulder to grip it. gojo, once again, doesn’t bother looking at him. “here you go, baby girl,” he says, offering you your drink.

exactly two bewildered faces turn to look at him, except yours gradually turns into something that holds a pretty intense murderous intent. he almost shudders.

“and you are?” the guy snaps before he examines him again, and gojo sees the exact moment the realization dawns on him as he realizes he talked to him not even five minutes ago.

“i’m her boyfriend,” he says, adding a cheeky smile for effect as he moves to stand behind you and clutches your shoulders to pull you closer to him. “didn’t i mention that?” the man simply shakes his head. “oops! my bad.”

it’s all you can do not to murder him on the spot.

“excuse us,” you mutter before grabbing a fistful of gojo’s shirt before dragging him out the door. once outside and a fair distance away, you turn around to jab a finger against his chest. “what’s your problem!”

“i know you can hold your own!” he offers as an excuse. to be fair, it is true. “you know, girl power.” he pumps a fist in the air.

“what sort of idiot sends someone else after their girlfriend?”

gojo merely snorts.

“what am i, insecure?” he retorts. you huff, a scowl effectively taking over your face when he takes your drink from your hand. “you’re going to break it if you keep squeezing it like that,” he mumbles before taking a large gulp of your drink.

“oh, give it back, you prick.” you snatch the cup back and take an angry sip.

gojo finally allows himself to laugh.

“he said you might be dating one.” at the blank look you shoot him, just in case, he adds, “a prick.”

“i am,” you grumble.

“that was miko’s ex, by the way,” he says. 

you blink slowly, allowing your gaze to drop down to the cup in your hand as you reflect on his words, simple as they might be. 

to your knowledge, miko’s ex had been an actual prick. you would know, of course, because although you never once saw the guy, it had to be you the one to hold her and comfort her for entire days until she was able to heal, bit by bit. you wordlessly hand your cup back to gojo, because this time you might actually break it.

“so you sent him after me?” you look him in the eye and see your own scowl reflected on his sunglasses.

satoru shrugs.

“someone ought to put him in his place.” the corner of his mouth quirks up. “believe me, you could do much worse to him than i ever could.”

his free hand steals around your waist to pull you closer, and you allow him to. your voice is muffled against the fabric of his shirt the next time you speak.

“how do you know?”

“i’m a man,” he says, like that explains everything. “i know.”

the thing he doesn’t add, however, is that he knows much too perfectly how much it stings to be rejected by you. if he were anyone else, he wouldn’t have dared showed his face in at least a decade.

and despite what other people say, you know that satoru gojo is much more rational than they would think, in his own bizarre way. sure, sometimes he acts like an idiot (actually, he does that with every single breath he takes), and he’s impulsive and a little bit crazy. the one thing people can’t usually see though, is that he cares.

[mythalism]

i think what people need to understand is that no amount of essays assuring me of veilguard's strengths, of which i agree there are plenty, is going to change the fact that the emotional experience veilguard prompted within me (and for many others) while i played it was a deeply negative one. discomfort at best, painful at worst. im talking stomach aches. visceral, somatic creeping disappointment and dread that i tried to fight for hours and hours but eventually had no choice but to accept. i stopped wanting to play entirely around 30 hours. i felt vaguely ill. i felt anxious. i could not sleep for a few days. and im not saying i felt sick because it was so bad, but that i felt sick because of the sinking realization that i was about to be terribly, horribly disappointed after so, so long. you could call me dramatic and im sure someone will. idk what to tell you. my emotions manifest physically long before they become decipherable or understandable to me mentally, especially when they're 10 years in the making. probably an autism symptom. regardless, it was genuinely pretty awful, especially because i had immense good faith for this game. i was so hopeful and optimistic and generally thrilled and literally anyone who followed me before october 31 would know that. the emotional whiplash and crash was intense and devastating, and i was reeling for days. you cannot tell me that this experience was "wrong" or "toxic" due to it's negative nature. it was entirely involuntary and outside of my control, as i would expect many people's joy was. emotional reactions are not beholden to fandom discourse.

any post i have made criticizing the game since is attempt to make sense of the emotional roller-coaster of the past 10 years, this summer, and finally this game's release. i do not come on here and write out my criticisms of veilguard because i want YOU to dislike it too. the nature of my essays are not persuasive. if they do persuade you its just because i am a well-trained essayist. sorry. if they dont, great! that wasnt the point. i have no desire to change anyone's mind on the game, in fact i actually would not wish the disappointment i felt on anyone. the fact that i have a lot of followers who agree with what i say and who spread the thoughts i express across tumblr is literally out of my control. when i write out my long-winded criticisms, it is out of a need to express and externalize that sinking, cold feeling i had while playing, in pursuit of understanding exactly why playing that game felt that way to me. identifying, analyzing and verbalizing is the only way i have been able to process my experience. its confessional and therapeutic more than anything. it helps other people understand their own difficult emotional process with the game. its not an attempt to ruin your fun. my negative experience with veilguard does not invalidate anyone else's positive one.

i see so many posts acting like all criticism is an intentional, targeted hate campaign and i dont understand that assumption. to what ends? what would that achieve? why would i bother with such a thing? maybe that is some people's intention in the deep hater corners of this website, and im blissfully unaware. if it is, fuck them. its certainly the intention of annoying grifters, but i feel the distinction between transphobe grifters and devastated fans is pretty clear, so im not sure why the lines are deliberately blurred as if those groups are remotely similar. some of my criticisms come from a more objective place. the writing comes to mind, and it's a consistent criticism from thousands of players. but just because i consider it to be poorly executed, does not make it unlovable. and when i say that i think its poorly done, i am not saying that you cannot or should not love it, or that you are stupid for loving it. maybe someone out there is saying that!!! but i am not. things do not have to be perfect to be enjoyable. they dont even have to be well executed to be enjoyable. "i think x aspect of veilguard is poorly done for yz reasons" is a completely different sentence than "you should not like x aspect of veilguard for yz reasons". these are not the same statements. i see so many posts that are so vitriolic and acting like two experiences of this game cannot coexist, that one has to win and be objectively right, moralizing them on a false axis of positivity = good and negativity = bad, and acting like the existence of one negates the experience of the other. and why? why would that be true? i literally love so many things that other people think are absolute ass. i also love plenty of things that i myself think are actual ass. i love them anyway. this is allowed and really fun. i am not sure who told you that it is not.

however, i have just as much of a right to express my disappointment as you have to express your excitement. i am genuinely happy for everyone who loves the game, i am glad it resonated, or that you saw yourself in its characters, or that it just scratched your hyperfixation itch. but whatever je ne se quoi it had for you, it did not have for me. i have written out so much criticism about so many aspects of the game, but fundamentally what it comes down to and what i cannot express in words is that while i played after waiting 10 years for that moment, it felt wrong. it wasn't that i had specific expectations for game story that were not met, in fact, it exceeded my expectations in a lot of ways. i mean that in terms of how i felt, something was off. it did not resonate. it did not land. it did not hit the right cord with me. i did not have enough moments of joy to outweigh the feeling of emptiness. i did not walk away from it feeling the way that the previous games made me feel. and ive been trying to figure out exactly why that is for three months now by talking about it with people who feel similarly. i am not sure that i will ever be able to analyze my way into figuring it out. it might just have to simply be that it left me bereft.

and so my posts are not anti-veilguard hater propaganda to make you feel like shit for loving the game. rather, they are me verbally processing exactly why i feel like shit so i can hopefully stop feeling like shit. to assume that people who are trying to process these negative feelings are toxic and intentionally malicious is a projection made in bad faith. i love dragon age, and it is because i love it so much that it disappointed me, and it is because disappointed me that i have to verbally process it on tumblr.com so that i dont go absolutely insane. i tag my posts properly. i do not go into tags where i do not belong. i do not rage-bait. i am participating in post-partum dragon age therapy between me and my followers. if it ends up on your dash, sorry. my therapy is popular i guess. so please for the love of god enjoy the game, freely and enthusiastically. i am happy for you. i will sit here and be jealous that it spoke to something in your soul that it unfortunately did not speak to in mine, and nothing i say can take that away from you. please stop interpreting it as an attempt to.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Evan: People won't like this, Michael's brothers will be upset........ But that's not your fault.

Lucifer: We just want to go home, let you guys clean up and recuperate from what happened.

They shook hands and Lucifer led Charlie and Maggie away, he opened a portal so they could all go to Hell. He did tell them to keep Adams existence a secret especially from Heaven since they thought he was dead.

The girls understood, it was for everyone's safety.

Adam: Luci?

Lucifer smiled and ran to Adam who hugged him so tight.

Lucifer: I'm okay love.

Adam cried, that was all he wanted was for Lucifer to be safe. They had a small celebration for everyone's safety.

Adam: Those things that Michael said....... He tried so hard to make sure you never existed. Having Hela....... I see what he did as it was a sin. He tried to destroy your soul before it was fully formed. God couldn't fix what he did but he could save what was left. So instead of being an archangel, he made you human.

Lucifer: As sad as that is ...... I'm glad he did it in a way.

Adam: Why?

Lucifer: I probably never would have met and fell in love with you. His act of evil gave me my soulmate.

Adam smiled: Yeah he fucked up in the end. I'm so glad I have you Luci.

Lucifer kissed him: Me too dove. Did you want me to make you a new and even gayer bracelet?

That made them both laugh but Adam agreed. It was for the best.

So Lucifer made him a bracelet that was forged from the best materials in Hell, enough to be able to withstand his power. He carefully craved all the little details needed to hold back the power he gained from Hela and some of his own. Adam didn't need to be overwhelmed.

Adam: You have no idea how good it feels to be back to normal like this.

Lucifer: It's good to have you back.

Adam: Soooo, sex?

Lucifer smiled: I thought you'd ask.

They made love to each other and it was probably one of the more emotional times they did. They were safe and sound with each other in their loving embrace.

And the best part? Heaven never bothered them again.

The End 💕

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

[alexdswfan]

Hange and Levi's first meeting in No Regrets and what it means to Levi

I'd like to talk about a scene in No Regrets that gets brought up sometimes by certain people in the fandom, which is Levi and Hange's first meeting, but I don't think fandom talks enough about the emotional impact this scene must've had on Levi, or why that first meeting is so important to him. This scene always manages to make me feel emotional no matter how many times I think about it, hence why it's my favourite part of the manga, because for the first time since Levi, Furlan and Isabel got in the Survey Corps, someone treated them with kindness and didn't look down on them.

The first thing we can notice from the way Hange approached them is how genuine and excited Hange is with what they achieved with the Titan, making sure to include them all in the achievement and not only Levi as seen here by how Isabel tells Hange that their group is amazing and Hange agreeing with her.

Hange is interested in getting to know more about Levi's strength, but it's in a way where they want to learn from him and get taught by him rather than in an idea of using his strength as a tool. By bringing the other Scouts in the conversation as seen below, Hange encourages Levi to teach them his tricks so they can all have better chances of survival and also kill Titans more efficiently from now on.

Hange wants to get to know Levi as a person first and foremost, which does impact Levi who hasn't really met anyone in the Survey Corps until that point to be interested in himself as a person and not just as a tool, and in his friends too as he's inseparable from them. Hange doesn't forget about them and even includes them in the conversation in their own easygoing way as seen in this panel.

Continuing on this idea, one of the most important parts of this scene is how Hange isn't only friendly with Levi, but they're friendly with Isabel and Furlan too, going so far as to give Isabel a treat for the start of their new friendship. It might not mean much, but for people who recently left the Underground where getting treats was probably a luxury or at best hard to come by, Hange's action will impact them far more than some people might realize. These three have constantly been called thugs or have been disrespected until they showed their technical prowess with Titans during their first expedition, so to see Hange push past that barrier by wanting a genuine friendship with them is such a contrast to the way they have been treated by the others all this time. And even when Levi is curt with Hange, they don't give up, inviting them all to a meal after the expedition is over, which shows how much Hange wants to get to know them better as people, and not only as soldiers skilled with ODM gear.

I think what impacted Levi the most out of that exchange wasn't necessarily that Hange was kind with him. It's definitely important, but when we know how much Levi cares about the ones he loves, how he values their lives much more than his own, it's that Hange was so kind with his friends that really impacted him the most, and I don't think fandom talks enough about it. How affected Levi must've been by Hange's sheer kindness without expecting anything in return from him in a world where that concept simply didn't exist. Levi was being kind with others, but this is the first time we see someone else that isn't part of his group be kind to him in return. I think what Hange did that day for him and his friends meant a lot more to Levi than we realize. Someone in the Survey Corps finally treated them as they should've always been treated, with respect and kindness and not with disdain or even coercion. And Hange isn't bothered by his refusal to communicate with them as seen by Furlan's reply here: "Anyway, Hange doesn't seem particularly bothered."

They respect his boundaries when Levi doesn't feel like answering since he doesn't want to get attached to new people (we know how that plan failed in retrospect, but he still tried), and that's because Hange doesn't try to force anything out of him. They tried and he didn't want to engage, that was fine with them, they'll still want to be his friend in the future regardless of Levi's answer. And I don't think fandom gives enough credit to Hange in this scene.

This scene will forever remain my favourite in No Regrets because it shows just how incredibly kind and friendly Hange was with Levi since the very beginning. Yes, this has to do with Hange's personality, that it's just like them to be attracted by the new outsiders or misfits and try to befriend them, but the important part is that someone at least tried. And it makes total sense how out of everyone we know, it had to be Hange to carry out that role. Someone caring as much about his friends as Levi simply cannot be hated by him. This scene actually destroys that claim even more, because by this definition, Levi would have to hate the first person in the Survey Corps to actually be friendly with his friends, the most important people in his life at that moment in time. It's again completely nonsensical to say that, and I do think the people who keep saying it either have forgotten this scene exists or they'd rather ignore it because it wasn't included in the OVA. But regardless of the reason, the fact remains this scene is part of the No Regrets manga and is important to delve even further into the relationship of Levi and Hange as it presents the blueprint of their relationship. Supportive and caring for each other until the very end.

Edit: I want to add that Levi definitely felt suspicious towards Hange's kindness at first since genuine kindness doesn't exist in his world. Coming from the Underground, he has all the reasons to be suspicious of Hange (as people have pointed it out in the reblogs). That being said, Hange's intention was to be friendly with him without wanting anything in return from that friendship, and I do think Levi was more appreciative of the whole exchange later in time when he got to learn Hange better. I struggle to say that someone who later in the story becomes one of his closest friends tried to be manipulative with him at the beginning of their relationship like the man with glasses in Bad Boy. Levi would never try to befriend such a person in my opinion. But we all know how their relationship grew instead, where their communication skills are beyond anything we've seen in the manga, so in the end, Hange's intention of becoming his friend proved to be genuine despite Levi's first suspicions.

[sweet-s0rr0w]

writing interview game

honestly, i very much doubt that anyone wants to read what i have to say about writing, but i got tags from some lovely friendly people (thank you to @garagepaperback, @citrusses, @arminaa8 and @wholahoop) so let's start and we'll see where it takes us.

how many works do you have on ao3? 31

what's your total ao3 word count? 368,607

your top 5 stories by kudos?

Nor All That Glisters 

Kept in Cages with @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (art)

Dreaming Skies with @tackytigerfic

Among the Elements

When The Party's Over

do you respond to comments? no, i'm awful, i don't think about it too much or i feel absolutely overwhelmed. i read and appreciate every single one though (except the draco simps complaining about glisters you know who you are) and in my dreams i will reply to you all one day.

what's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? i don't really do angsty endings, although i did recently write a creepy timeloop fic! also, if anyone wants a laugh please check out the first bookmark on that fic, which is named After the Time Loop:

(also, 'a good enough fic' yeah well your reading comprehension skills aint all that either mate)

what's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? maybe kept in cages?

do you write crossovers? no

have you ever received hate on a fic? not just hate on my fic, hate on my fic that somehow led to me being accused of something i didn't do and basically ostracised from fandom for like nine months. wild!

do you write smut? intermittently

have you ever had a fic stolen? no-one would bother. though i think AI is stealing from all our fics right?

have you ever had a fic translated? yes! the lovely @moonletterss has translated several of my fics into brazilian portuguese! and by the way i had the nicest comment a few weeks back from someone who'd read the translation and came to say thank you to me too, so i'm super grateful to you moon <3

have you ever co-written a fic before? yes, i had the time of my life with @tackytigerfic on dreaming skies and my dream is to write a drarry with them one day if they'll have me. i think there are probably two other people i'd love to co-write with, but i'd be too shy to say!

what's your all-time favourite ship? so basic, but drarry

what's a wip that you want to finish but don't think you ever will? omg i started a fic many MANY moons ago which was actually supposed to be a gift for @vukovich with a fairly morally corrupt draco who works for vice squad and is sent in undercover to let some guy pick him up, and harry's his handler and has to watch him in frustration as he shows off for all the hidden cameras etc. not sure it's something i would write well these days but you never know!

what are your writing strengths? dialogue, pacing (i think)

what are your writing weaknesses? everything that's not dialogue, also i joyfully skip back and forth all over the shop when i'm writing a first draft which means i have to force myself to go back through in order afterwards to make it all make sense. there are better ways, i'm sure, but i really don't care.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? oh, definitely! what, as opposed to jkr's 'eet ees lucky zat 'e is marrying me'?? yes, no thanks to that. i'm sure i've had some french in there before, and i seem to recall asking people for italian and german advice though i reckon that was like book titles and not dialogue. but definitely i would!

what's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to? oh god, f1, always the one that got away.

what's your favourite fic you've ever written?

nor all that glisters (i'll never not be proud of that as an achievement, especially given the pit of postpartum despair i was in), dreaming skies, or silhouettes

tagging: @tackytigerfic, @maesterchill, @kamaela, @shiftylinguini, @moonflower-rose, @epitomereally, @lemonlimelea, @sorrybutblog, @oknowkiss and anyone else and if you've done it pls lmk so i can hunt it down and reblog <3

[distant--shadow]

Yeah, it's 100% an issue of question curation, not an issue with questions being asked. There's literally no way that you could know that without specifically seeking out questions that were submitted but not answered, but I guess some people are expecting you to be clairvoyant...

It's a shame because it's probably the only fireside chat Laura'll do for at least a year. I think the quesitons that get the most repeat submissions are always going to be the memey ones, which is why they really need a dedicated person to pick out the most interesting questions during fireside chats, otherwise we're just gonna keep getting shallow questions.

Also, I was just thinking the other day about how girlfailure is kinda like the new bimbo and it bothers me. Like, yeah, it means ditzy and klutzy and we can say it affectionately all we like, we're still kinda trivialising feminity. It's also a really clunky word that sounds bad to say. If you wanna talk more about it, I'd like to hear it

I feel you here, but as I keep tryna say I don't think it's 100% an issue on curation, because those silly questions had to be submitted in the first place, and the person curating them has to have some sort of belief or knowledge that it is what the audience wants to hear. I can take an argument for lightheartedness, but as I said, it's within the context of all of the grievances people have had with this campaign, I guess paired maybe with underlying concerns I could have about them tryna appeal to a certain crowd, and how that could effect the main campaign format eventually. I don't know the current time line for recording, so there's all chance that the latest episode was filmed an amount of time before the fireside chat, so that added to wanting to steer from too current questions as it would maybe spoil. but then again I say, the show didn't have to be this week. and you're very right, it is so frustrating because we have a lot less of a look behind the curtain with this campaign than we did c2, and yes they're so busy, but it's frustrating because we (or at least I) don't want any of the bells and whistles in this extra content. I'm not looking to fulfil a social need watching them hang out, I want to get a grasp of what is going on, or at least not have it replaced by the goofing.

of course part of why I was posting initially with pretty heavy words is because I was feeling pissed off about it, you wait a long time for something to come round and it just feels like the same information rehashed to you, or yeah as I said in other posts, it feels like an obvious infiltration of fandom and like you're getting pandered to. and hey, maybe that's the fault of this campaign, maybe the majority feel it's so lacking they'd rather say fuck it, I'd rather AU to everyone's face.

I'll say a little bit on the girl failure thing, because I am almost certain people have written good and thought out essays and pieces on this stuff, but what I will say is what my gut says. firstly, there has been a huge up tick in the use of girl by women in general in recent years, and as a simple quick note on that: I don't like it. it shows a denial of aging, a wish to not be associated with what is woman, as well as literally the word for a child. yes, I understand the complexities of a society where getting houses and a lot of these other classic age associated milestones are really hard if not impossible, and that language evolves and definitions change, but what a denial of the experiences you do get to have instead. there's a lot of freedoms we have that prior generations haven't. to go through all of that and still call other women girls is just. it's not it. I can understand an argument for preference, but as I said, to use it for others is infantilising. showing my age here, I'm sure, but it's the way girl has become like an identity vs woman. why are you so scared of being a woman? what is it about if that you dislike? how does that play into-

girlfailure, and people using it so casually for everything and it becoming a meme.

language is important. and I shoudlnt be allowed to say that because I haven't proof read a post in my life and I've got a sieve brain from years of drug use. but the language you use plants seeds. when you make jokes and belittle yourself, do you know what kind of people see that and think, huh, well if they're saying it it's fine for me to say it too, and who goes on to repeat it the loudest? how, genuinely, I genuinely believe this, yknow, you watch those videos and read those pieces on how people basically become fascists without realising, from the wildest paths. that it's often a long chain of events. behaviour starts somewhere. and yeah, this is a huge dumbing down and simplification of that and I'm sure a lot of people will argue I'm being delusional and dramatique', but associating a negative trait with a gender or a sex or a race or ability, making it a meme, using that meme, even if it's initially only used by the people it applies to, it gets co-opted by those it doesn't, and in time is used as ammunition against them. do I think that every person saying girlfailure or girlmath is using it with vicious intent? no. but I'm old enough to have grown up with changing vocabulary and words that are derogatory and thought of as totally fine to use in every day language and were in reality dehumanising and or belittling the people they were used against. basically? girlfailure gives me the ick. sure, girlfail all over yourself if you have to. don't use it for other women. don't put it out there.

it's never made sense for me for Imogen. yeah, she's a goof at times, but her failures are literally dice rolls, why is no one else a girlfailure? she's been rediculously perceptive (lol not visually) so many fucking times. what do you mean all you've wanted is for Imogen to be a girlfailure? you want her to flunk everything she attempts? doesn't seem to line up with the Imogen I very much enjoy seeing and people claim is what they love to see.

finally, and this might be huge news to some people, I can think girlfailure is a shitty term and propagating misogyny, and that doesn't take away from how much of my concerns are focused in areas that need more attention, doesn't mean it's all I care about. as I'm always saying, change happens locally, within communities. change starts with small actions as well as big ones. language is important. if you don't see how small things play into the big things then I'm sorry, the world isn't that simple. dehumanising and the like starts at micro levels. and before u know it it's law.

[notafraidofredyellowandblue]

Paul's reaction to being played on GDR radio

This quote is from the book "Wir wollen immer artig sein...Punk, New-Wave, Hip-hop und Independent-szene in der DDR von 1980-1990", pages 559 and 565.

The quote is from a chapter that has an interview with Lutz Schramm, presenter of the show 'Parocktikum' that was broadcast by the official GDR radio station, initially as part of the youth-program 'DT 64'. For more information on Parocktikum see wiki (de) and the website of Lutz Schramm at parocktikum.de which also contains a wiki to people and places from the era.

Interesting tidbit on the page for Flake which a.o. mentions the many collabs that Flake did like "Flake & Piet (mit ... Piet? Mancherorts wird behauptet, auch "Piet" wäre Paul Landers)" translated "Flake & Piet (with ... Piet? In some places it is claimed that "Piet" is also Paul Landers)". And announced recently was that on 7 feb 2025 Flake and Piet's release will be re-released 🌺 but back to the quote.. 😊

Lutz Schramm is asked which music he played (what he liked himself), if he was hindered a lot by officials (not very much, although he took care not to play too political songs like 'Anti-Armia' by 'Die Frirma'), how people and fans sent him cassettetapes to play (because there wasn't much else for bands to distribute their music), and what the artists in the 'scene' thought about being played on state radio.

Hat es denn Fälle von Distanzierungen von seiten der Szene zu deiner Sendung 'Parocktikum' gegeben?

Schramm: "Ja, zum Beispiel hat mich Paul Landers von Feeling B angerufen und mir mitgeteilt: 'Die Magdalene Keibel Combo hat in deiner Sendung nichts zu suchen, spiel die nicht!'. Ich hab dann am Telefon ein bißchen mit ihm rumdiskuttiert, er meinte: 'Die Leute kommen bei Konzerten zu uns und erzählen, ihr lauft da im Ost-Radio, das ist nicht so toll!' Ich erklärte ihm, ich spiel das, weil mir die Musik gefällt und nicht wegen irgendwelchen politischen Geschichten, aber er erwiderte, letztendlich geht es haptsächlich um die politischen Geschichten. Ich sagte ihm dann: 'Okay, wahrscheinlich hast du recht, dan lassen wir es eben'. Ich hab's dann einmal gespielt und sonst kein Verbot dafür bekommen. Solche Geschichten sind eben vor allem gelaufen, da gab es auch noch einige andere. Verhältnismäßig oft ist es passiert, daß Musiker gesagt oder geschrieben haben: 'Spiel uns nicht, weil das möglicherweise unsere Street-Credibility beschädigt'."

Um sich selbst vor staatlichem Zugriff zu schützen oder um ihre Fans nicht zu enttäuschen?

Schramm:"Eher das."

translated

Have there been any cases of distancing from the scene towards your show 'Parocktikum'?

Schramm: "Yes, for example, Paul Landers from Feeling B called me and told me: 'The Magdalene Keibel Combo has no place in your show, don't play it!'. I then argued a bit with him on the phone, he said : 'People come to us at concerts and say you're on East radio, that's not that great!' I explained to him that I was playing it because I liked the music and not because of any politics, but he replied that in the end it is mainly about politics. I then told him: 'Okay, you're probably right, so we'll leave it at this '. I played it once and didn't get bother for it. Stories like that happened, and there were quite a few others. What happened relatively a lot was musicians said or wrote: 'Don't play us, because of that possibly damages our Street credibility'."

To protect themselves from government access or not to disappoint your fans?

Schramm: "More the latter."

Lutz is also asked if all GDR bands were originals or just copies of english or american bands

Schramm:"Feeling B ist, glaube ich, das Authentischte, was du finden kannst, weil die auch nicht Musik im eigentlichen Sinne gemacht haben, die haben eben irgendwie nur irgendwas gemacht, das war so: plopp!

translated

Schramm: "Feeling B is, I think, the most authentic thing you can find, because they didn't make music in the actual sense, they just somehow did something, it was like: plop!

🌺

more quotes by or about Rammstein or related topics

[realmbred]

🫦      *      :        if   the   changeling   was   able   to   bottle   up   kairon's   scent   and   use   it   as   a   perfume,   contain   the   taste   of   his   tongue   and   drink   it   up   three   times   a   day,   he   would.   paric's   mouth   welcomed   the   gossiper's   tongue.   the   more   and   more   it   entered   his   mouth,   he   began   to   suck   on   the   skilled   appendage.   his   fingers   sunk   into   the   man's   flesh.   feeling   the   warmth,   but   also   wanting   to   cling   onto   him   like   he   was   never   going   to   see   him   again.   that   was   what   was   special   about   him.   every   time   to   him   was   the   last.     ❝     and   do   you   think   we   have   similar   virtues?   i   wouldn't   want   to   waste   your   time   and   have   you   hide   the   truth   from   me.     ❞       when   their   lips   pulled   apart   again,   he   made   sure   to   nip   at   the   man's   bottom   lip.   taking   a   small   bite   to   taste   him   even   more.   from   that   moment   on,   probably   even   before,   he   was   determined   to   never   lie   to   kairon   if   he   could   help   it.   the   lights   that   he   had   summoned   glowed   brighter   when   their   bodies   continued   to   mesh   together.   his   blood   pulsed   as   the   other   got   to   his   throat.   breath   hitched   before   he   let   out   a   low   moan,   something   that   could   have   been   missed   if   his   partner   wasn't   right   in   front   of   him.     ❝     with   the   responsibilities   of   a   crown,   people   can't   frolic   in   the   shadows.   plus,   your   head   is   much   too   pretty   to   be   weighed   down   like   that.     ❞       as   he   spoke   about   kairon's   pretty   head,   paric   brushed   his   hand   through   his   soft   curls.   the   bud   of   his   nipple   hardened   when   it   was   teased   like   that,   body   clearly   reacting   to   everything   that   the   man   was   doing   to   him.   they   were   getting   to   know   each   other   in   an   intimate   manner.   sexually   and   their   inner   ambitions.     ❝       the   court   does   not   know   you   well   enough,   my   lord.   you   are   a   man   filled   with   so   much   power,   more   than   just   a   spider.   i   hope   you   realize   that.     ❞       normally   he   was   the   one   taking   people's   breath   away.   this   time   it   was   the   opposite   way.   with   every   kiss,   bite,   or   move   that   the   sorcerer   made   he   was   losing   more   and   more   control   of   the   situation.     ❝     my   beauty   and   your   tongue   could   make   lands   fall.   i   think   there's   a   powerful   alliance   between   the   two   of   us.     ❞       all   of   those   thoughts   poured   out   of   paric's   mind.   when   his   breeches   hit   the   floor,   he   didn't   even   bother   stepping   out   of   them.   he   just   gripped   the   man's   curls.   with   the   other   hand,   he   grabbed   the   base   of   his   member   and   traced   the   tip   over   the   man's   lips.   soon   enough,   he   was   slowly   sliding   it   into   his   mouth,   the   length   throbbing   upon   entering.   the   changeling   was   slow   in   the   movements,   making   sure   to   take   his   time,   but   soon   enough   he   was   making   sure   that   kairon   had   a   mouthful.   then,   he   could   do   whatever   he   wanted   with   it.

🔮           *           ﹕ㅤㅤ     the sorcerer's breath came out shallow as their lips moved together, husky and wine-warmed, each kiss hungrier than the last. such an insatiable creature, kairon's tongue slid into paric's mouth once again, with deliberate languid strokes that teased at first before delving deeper⸻ exploring, tasting, coaxing a rhythm that felt less like kissing and more like consumption. almost as if intending to drink each other's essence through the interchange of breath and spit. and each wet slide of their tongues against one another sent a deep rumbling groan reverberating through kairon's chest, a hand sliding down paric's back, fingers splayed wide to pull him closer.        ❝         the truth is a special gift reserved for those who deserve it. for those with similar virtues, my lord,          ❞        said as his lips broke away, grinding his hips against the other man, the heated friction of their cocks rubbing through the fabric of their breeches enough to make the sorcerer gasp. but he found no reason to lie to lord fenrich, to employ his usual deceptions, simply didn't see it for destiny to have their ambitions and desires diverge. kairon pressed another kiss on paric's lips, much quicker this time, then tilting his head, angled for the older man's throat. kairon's lips teased over the skin, before his tongue darted out for a better taste ﹕ a slow decadent drag that left a wet sheen. the taste of salt, musk, and something uniquely paric filled his senses, humming in approval, lips trailing downward for more.        ❝         but i'm no vulture. i don't dream of political power more than what i have now, not really. i just find crowns and thrones too dull, too heavy,          ❞       he whispered, then a stroke of tongue across paric's collarbone before trailing further with sweet kisses. and when he reached the man's chest, kairon paused, breath warm against bare skin, looking up at paric as his lips closed around one nipple, tongue circling languorously before sucking gently, just enough to pull a sound, a reaction, anything to feed his growing hunger.        ❝         and the court says i'm a spider, weaving webs of deceit. but it's not for ambition, my lord. it is simply just my nature,          ❞       kairon admitted, shifting to the other, lavishing the same attention. lower and lower, he dragged his tongue along the line of paric's stomach, knees hitting the cool stone of the cellar floor. he pressed kisses into the tender planes of other man's hips, teeth grazing lightly at the curve where skin met bone⸻ lingering there to trace the arc of muscles with teasing reverent swipes. then, he finally looked up again, one hand on paric's hip and the other bracing the curve of his thigh.        ❝         your beauty alone is enough to ruin kingdoms. but there's something else to be ravaged for now,          ❞       an expectant look in his eyes, gleaming with amusement and heat, mouth now fully parted, tongue curling outward in a silent invitation.

[conkers-thecosy]

Not to be That Guy, but I've noticed a lot of posts floating about lately with a certain disdain for fanfic readers, in respect of "not interacting with fanfiction the right way" and I just really wanted to say that as a fic writer myself, it kind of bothers me.

Like, I understand that it can be frustrating when you work hard at writing a fic and don't get the response you're after, but these reams of rules and complaints are genuinely just going to kill positive interaction entirely. It's going to make folks scared to say or do the wrong thing, so they won't leave comments or share or drop a kudos in case they offend someone.

And who can blame them, really? The tone of some of these posts... it's very "fanfic authors don't owe readers anything" and like?? Sure, I guess??? But that's pretty unpleasant aside from anything else, don't you think?

You can air a grievance, of course you can, but let's not make sweeping statements, be hostile, or make demands of people.

We're all here to have fun and share our love of whatever source material. Maybe instead of focusing on the things and people that annoy you, try showing and sharing your appreciation with those that are as excited as you are.

Trust me, fandom is way more fun like that.

[uncanny-tranny]

The bourgeois or "exploiting class" doesn't inherently include the person who gets their nails done biweekly, or the disabled person who has a carer, or the guy who got a $70 video game for full-price, or the person who relies on medication (yes even the ones you don't think they "need"), or anything else like this. None of these people will, on average, have the ability to exploit workers by means of ownership or whatever.

While you are busy fighting with fellow workers, you are still being exploited by your boss, by capitalism, by (potentially) not having healthcare, by being overworked and underpaid, and so are they.

[kibibarel]

i need to complain and you're the only N liker i trust... whys every N rper have such a boring interpretation of him.... like at LEAST make him obsessed with math 😭😭😭

N is a fan favorite, which means you get way more people than usual attempting to write him, which means he tends to get subjected to more fanon...that's my theory

because he's a fan favorite, i think he's also the type of character that people like to pick up and project themselves onto, even if it means removing a lot of the nuance in his canon character. back when i was still RPing him on tumblr myself (which, granted, was almost a decade ago now...geez) it was also very in vogue to put him through so many layers of AU that he was basically just an OC lmao...tumblr Gladions are also like this in my experience. so many wildly out-of-character boys out there

anyway my advice to N writers is you don't even really need to know math to write N's math stuff true to canon...just have him throw out the word "formula" or "theorem" every now and then. that's what i did LMAO......this math shit is easy

[astral-aromance]

Oh yes, their relationship was definitely not static at all, but ever changing. I think Maglor had some childish jealousy towards Maedhros for being the eldest, too, at some point! And there was definitely a long time when they were buddies, I imagine after Maglor's teenage years, they grew rather close and actively liked spending time together. Dad threatening uncle, grandpa dying, murdering people and dad exploding out a damper on it, though... Maedhros likely resented Maglor for not allowing rescue attempts while he was in Angband, even if logically he knew why Maglor made that choice. And, of course, they developed some real unhealthy co-dependence after losing Ambarussa. They could live neither with nor without each other in the end.

And I like to imagine Maglor having been the hardest teen to handle among the brothers. Like sure, Tyelko is rambunctious and rude, put you put him inside a forest, and he's happy and content. Moryo is hot-headed, but Fëanor and Nerdanel are too, so they know how to deal with that; he just needs to be left alone sometimes. Curvo, for all his personality flaws, just needed to be allowed to craft, and then all was good in his world. But Maglor? He was loud, often grumpy, VERY dramatic, and really tried to rebel in that teenage way. Didn't want to go on the annual family camping trips anymore. Didn't listen to the advice of well-meaning parents or brothers. Ignores his curfew and bedtimes on purpose. He probably flipped off the King when he asked about Maglor's love life... Couldn't be bothered to even try sculpting or forging (or any other craft that didn't involve constant loud noise), and most importantly, never stopped practicing his music at night, loudly and in the living room with the doors open (because it has the best acoustics, mom! Not like you'd understand anway.) I bet Fefe and Nerdie were happy to send him to Alqualondë for a couple of years to study his music lol... he mellowed out later, but puberty was not a fun time with him in my mind.

And you know what? Yes. Yes, Maglor WOULD have been king and stayed king if Maedhros had died. He wouldn't have given up the crown either. I never considered it before, but it's canon in my mind now.

I really dislike the fanon that he was a softy and not at all politically motivated, because I think he was, at least in the beginning of the whole Beleriand endeavours. Important to me is, that despite having allegedly been "most like his mother in temperament," he was still very much Fëanor's son.

And I'd love to read your headcanons on Nelyo-Moryo and Nelyo-Laurë!

For the idea ask game, would you do Mîm and Maedhros, please?

This got a bit long... ups, but thanks for the ask :) <3, made me think about the dwarves as a whole a bit more

Mîm:

First impression: Something is fundamentally wrong with this guy for forgiving his son's murderer and simping (?) over said murder...

Impression now: I hate him so much okay? Like that little bastard tried to kill Finrod in his sleep! AND!! And betrayed Túrin and Beleg!

Favorite moment: The three hunters original!! No, never mind, he betrayed them because of his dislike for his son's murderer´s situationship… - I think it´s a bit funny that he was so jealous of Túrin´s love I believe it was a platonic obsession born from the need for control for Beleg, he might just be one of the first "if I can´t have you no one can"

Idea for a story: Redemption Túrin gets to kill him, instead of Húrin, right before dying as he takes Mîm in trying to claim the treasure for himself, and Mîm´s course gets so much more fucked up because it gets mixed with Túrin´s own.

Unpopular opinion: His curse wasn´t swag enough. I love angst okay? It would have been so cool if we had more stories about the cursed treasures, more than just the Nauglamír.

Favorite relationship: Death :) I would like to know more about the petty dwarves, so I guess his family ties...?? Although, I think it was a bit... complicated... with his sons at least...

Favorite headcanon: Upon his death Glaurung let some of his power out which Mîm somehow got maybe because he was the most wicked near?? that made him able to cast such a precise and powerful curse.

Maedhros:

First impression: First born of a "mad" king? I know to many fairitales to know how this is going to end, but I do like tall ginger dudes with long hair :)

Impression now: Favorit depressed ginger elf I want to throw against the wall as a bouncy ball. He´s a horrible guy, but man I love his tragic story and his tries for redemption (?) before realizing it´s all hopeless... I love him so much, one of my favorit.

Favorite moment: "A king is he that can hold his own or else his title is vain" like this little fucker grew up in a political world, and he has seen so much shit and he will not take any more!! I just love how ready he is to mock people and call them out on their BS. - although I think the quote carries a bit more than that, I don´t think Maedhros is mocking Thingol, even though that is who he speaks about. Thingol IS Lord of Beleriand, as all Sindar heed him, so I think Maedhros with his little speech managed to both get people over on his side, questioning Thingol, while still acknowledging his Lordship, and mock Morgoth, all in the same breath.

Idea for a story: An AU where he didn´t give the crown to Fingolfin. Maybe they shared kingship to prevent a civil war, or maybe Fingolfin thought that as long as he at least could be the right hand of Maedhros he would do everything to prevent a civil war as none of them would survive a civil war with Morgoth still there. I don´t know, I just see a lot of potential in this kind of AU :)

Unpopular opinion: Maedhros did grow up in a politically tense environment, although I´m not sure how much he felt of it as little, and I think it affected a lot of how he sees the world and how low he is willing to go for things he wants. I don´t think he´s a nice guy, and I´m not sure I ever believe he was a nice guy, I think he´s willing to lie and kill (as is seen) to get what he wants, although he prefers the... cleaner way. I see his story as a story about how someone can fall and what reasons are behind it and what pushes the character to their actions. Just make it as tragic as possible. He´s a tragic hero to me, one who did so much, yet still failed.

Favorite relationship: Platonic or romantic, either way, Fingon. From one day I see them as platonic the next as romantic, but I love their relationship so much, like they WILL, one HAVE, save each other both from themself but also from straight up hell!

Favorite headcanon: The closest brother to him is Caranthir!! And they got even closer after Angband where Caranthir was the one to help him teach him to use his left hand, here he also learned how to sew for the first time, as he needed to do something he hadn´t been good at before to show that he wasn´t bad he just needed practice!

My impression of character...