#and thats how you know i wasnt born here

[cosmicrhetoric]

i am still a little in love with new york which is like the only sign that i have ANY naiveite or childlike wonder left in my heart at all (because you need unrealistic wonder 2 love nyc after this much exposure) but idk i was listening 2 the golem and the jinni audiobook (set in 19th century nyc) today and walking around and being like. wow i know that street. it was here 100 years ago and the neighborhood still exists :) and i am here now

[blindedbystars]

i reached too many tags so im writing the rest of my thoughts here hope you dont mind!

i loved the confrontation between heaven and tommy - like i said its born out of worry and comes from a good place initially but also because she's too unpredictable tommy can't control her the way he can everything else and that's one reason he doesn't like her

but also tommy believes himself cursed and maybe she represents that part of himself tommy is afraid of and her mentioning his son i know she's trying to help him but tommy is so untrusting it won't come across as anything other than a threat

and i know i keep saying this but i do like the little bits and pieces of her backstory she's such an intriguing character im looking forward to reading more about her

"you're here" / "told you id come back" 🥺😭😭 and "please tell me you're not scared of your arthur" this beauty and the beast situation but where they both think they're the beast "you look pretty with blood all on your face" so real girl i hear you

love that they both are same level of crazy for eahcother they want to eat eachother so bad love it

Heaven in Your Eyes || Arthur Shelby x Reader!OC

Summary:  This is when things seem to get better with the Shelby family —at least with Polly— that a drunk client crosses the line with you at the Garrison. Haunted by his past insecurities and his burning jealousy, Arthur snaps. And he snaps very bad. For the first time since you've met, he reveals the beast he hides inside... And Tommy obviously uses the incident to blame you.

Words: 5k

TW: Angst, Obsessive behavior, extreme jealousy, graphic depiction of violence, murder, lot of blood, canonical violence, witch trial, allusions to smut, allusions to blood!kink, Arthur being an emotional and slightly psychotic mess

Notes:

✞ I don't condone Arthur's behavior. Also, keep in mind that Heaven is certainly a bit twisted too.

✞ Heaven is OP's original character but written with the use of « you » (Moodboard here).

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || Masterlist || NEXT

The sound of your heels hammering the cold pavement of Small Heath echoed in the nocturnal streets as you walked to the Garrison. Even though the expansion of the Shelby Company led the family’s interests away from the pub, they still hold the place dear to their hearts and sometimes they liked gathering there for old times' sake. Especially Arthur. Hence, rather than staying at home, reading in front of the fireplace, and dwelling on Polly’s odd behavior at the last family gathering, you decided to occupy your buzzing mind by surprising Arthur at the pub. A raven flew above your head and cawed, its presence stirring interest in you for he had followed you from the moment you had left your house. As you walked to the Garrison, you took a quick glance at the black bird’s silhouette, which was perched on a roof a few houses away. 

"Silly boy, want to tell me something?" You told to it, amused. The animal, dressed with dark feathers, replied with another caw. You chuckled and kept walking.

The white dress and fur coat you were wearing contrasted so well with the dull night that the few people you passed were not sure what they had just seen. Indeed, the moon's glow reflected its light on your porcelain skin, adorning your frail body with an almost supernatural aura. That was why some of them thought they had caught sight of an angel, just like Arthur did the first time you and he met.

When the dark wooden door of the Garrison opened, its noise overcoming the laughter, chatting, and sounds of glasses clinking against each other, a soft wave of warmth caressed your cold face. You had barely stepped inside when people almost all turned around, many pairs of eyes weighing on you. Curious and dumbstruck gazes looked at you, wondering what such a holy-looking creature was doing here — but you did not really care. Your petrifying aquamarine iris swept the room to become familiar with the place before you headed to the counter behind which you saw Arthur’s tall frame. The man was back to you, talking with his little boss-brother Thomas. Awesome, you thought, little King Shelby is here. Sarcasm filled your head at the mere sight of him. To be true, you were well aware that Thomas was always doing his best to avoid you, but it did not annoy you. Quite the contrary, you were more than satisfied with never seeing him — you still did not come to terms with him trying to strangle you after all. Nevertheless, you leaned over the counter, arms resting on its varnished wooden surface, and parted your juicy lips to speak. 

“Good evening, Mister Shelby. Care to serve me a drink?” 

Arthur’s whole being shivered with delight as soon as he recognized the enchanting and oh-so-peculiar tone of your voice — the same voice that had led him to you one bleak and sleepless night. Shaken to the core by your presence, he forgot about Tommy the moment you had started to speak and turned around to face you, the corner of his lips stretching in a genuine and blissed smile. Each time his steel blue eyes fell on you, it was as if God's grace struck him — even though you were living together. The thrills you gave him never left.

“Good evening, love. What is such a delicious little Angel like you doing here? It’s a bad town for such a pretty face ye know.” He almost cooed with his hoarse voice, his hands on the bar and his eyes sparkling with a teasing gleam.

“Fell from the sky and got lost in these streets, so I just followed the light.” Your fingers grazed the back of his hand and went up its skin, leaving pleasant tingles in their trail, until they reached one of the many rings he was wearing. The simple gesture, barely touching him, lit up a blazing fire in his soul. Thomas looked at Arthur and quickly understood that no matter what he would say or do, he held no power over his older brother anymore, “Evening, Tommy.” You said, finally acknowledging him.

“Thomas. It’s Thomas.” He retorted with a voice as cold as an arctic blizzard that could freeze Hell’s inferno itself. He stubbed out his cigarette in the nearest ashtray and left without any single word, his shadow disappearing in the streets as he left the Garrison, for your sole presence seemed to bother him. Well, at least his opinion about you did not change. However, the lack of peculiar reaction from him reassured you: Polly had not told him what happened to the tea party yet.

“Don’t mind him eh,” 

You did not.

“I should probably give you one hell of a strong drink if you fell from Eden… Miss?”

“Heaven Lavey.” You winked, enjoying his silly way of hitting on you as if it was the first time you met, “A glass of red wine would do the trick… And the barman’s heart.” Your teasing grin widened, unveiling perfect white teeth. Arthur let out a long exhale through his nostrils, enraptured by your whole being. From your smile to your bratty pout, you got him on his knees. Each time he would dive his eyes into yours, his heart would quicken in his chest and dopamine would rush through his veins — who would want to keep taking drugs after tasting you? Not even himself. He was already high enough by your presence in his life and God knew he never wanted to sober up from you.

“As you wish.” He leaned over the counter to lay a tender kiss on your forehead. The way his mustache gently tickled your skin made you chuckle. How sweet he was, not afraid to lavish you with sweetness even in front of other people. Then, he gathered all his strength to pull away from you and take care of your order — which was nearly impossible to do, for you were both attracted to each other like two powerful magnets. But still, he did and then poured the finest red wine the Garrison had in a glass before putting it in front of you. Then, he leaned a second time over the counter to bring his face close to yours again, “as for my heart,” he paused, his eyes abandoning yours to drop on your full lips he watched with utmost desire, “You already snatched it, angel.” 

“You’re incorrigible, Arthur Shelby.” You could not help but laugh when you noticed that, as you spoke, his focus was still fiercely anchored to your lips. The urge he had to devour them was almost palpable, electrifying the air around him. Yet, you resisted the need to kiss him, rather bringing your small hands to his neck to fix his bow tie with indescribable tenderness. The pair of eyes that were watching you since your arrival could not believe that you had managed to tame the brutal Arthur Shelby — how he behaved with you was so different from the way he was with the others it almost scared them, “I hope you like this little surprise.”

“You can’t imagine how much I do.” He purred, grabbing your hands and putting them on his cheeks. How he loved feeling your cold skin against his. You cupped his face, looking right into his fair eyes with a never-ending love, and he instantly melted. His eyelids half-closed, for you had brought peace to his scorching soul again, “Lemme clean a few things and we’ll go back home eh.”

“Take your time. Je t’attends mon amour — I’ll wait for you my love ��“

“Yer comfy here?”

“Arthur,” Your eyes rolled, amused.

“Want a cushion to sit on? Want to wait in a quieter room?” 

“That’s okay.”

“Mmm’kay” 

You freed his face from your sweet grip, leaving him lingering for more. When he reopened his eyes he could not hold the little growl that escaped his lips for you had not kissed him. He blinked several times, trying to chase away the charm you had cast on him with your sole presence, and reluctantly left you. Stars still danced in front of his eyes because of your intoxicating beauty — so hypnotizing he struggled to come back to what he was doing before.

Waiting did not bother you. In fact, you preferred to wait for hours here, in the comforting warmth of the pub and its hullabaloo, rather than being left alone with your thoughts in the quietness of your house. Sipping on your red wine, you were minding your own business when a man sat next to you, his body collapsing on the stool as if walking had been quite a struggle for him. Which was probably the case considering he was drunk. Only a few people were still at the Garrison, the others went home stumbling or dragged away by a fellow friend. The suffocating smell of whiskey and sweat that was emanating from the newcomer made you wrinkled your nose.

“Hey doll, all alone by yourself? ”  The man said, bringing the whiskey glass to his chapped lips to gulp what was left in it. You glanced at him and simply nodded, not really wanting to do any kind of conversation, “Your glass is almost empty. Lemme buy you another one.” 

“I really appreciate it but that’s fine.” You answered with a polite smile — but even when doing the bare minimum your angelic traits never failed to captivate your audience. The man noticed your strong accent and saw the opportunity to carry on with the conversation.

“You come from France eh? I fought in France! Bloody hell, still got the mud of this country under my nails!” 

Maybe he talked a little bit too loud, or maybe Arthur’s senses were as sharp as a wolf’s, but the fact remains he immediately raised his eyes from what he was doing to watch over you. His steel blue iris shifted their attention from you only to cast their furious fire on the drunk man that was talking to you. His woman.

“You know, I always thought it was kind of sad that all the people here only link France with the war. This is a beautiful country.” You answered, taking another sip of red wine. Somehow, you allowed yourself to talk with the man. At least time would probably fly faster that way.

“If France’s as beautiful as ya, I’ll rush back to it by tomorrow, doll. The name’s Jim.”

You silently replied to him with a light smile, gently shaking your head at the fella’s attempt to compliment you.

You smiled at Jim — And Arthur broke the glass he was holding in his hand. It had been crushed by the pressure with which he had tightened his grip around it until it shattered into bits. Sharp pieces of glass had pierced Arthur’s flesh, blood dripping from his palm, but the tormenting anger that was building within him was so overwhelming he did not even feel the pain. As seconds passed, his face contorted with rage and his eyes darkened with jealousy.  You. Smiled. At. Him.

That was definitely not okay — the man did not deserve your blissful smile. 

Deafened by the sound of his own heart pounding in his tight chest, Arthur swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat in a vain attempt to keep control. To not let his anger issue show. The rational part of his mind was telling him to keep calm, for he knew you loved him and only him. You had told him plenty of times, after all. And he trusted you, really. But the other part, led by his insecurities and his mental instability, whispered foul insinuations to his ear.

Why would she stay with such a criminal like you? You’re sick. You’re old. You’re broken — and no one loves broken men. 

You’re stupid, far less clever and charming than Tommy. HE is a real man. 

You either scare or repel women. Linda told you. You don’t deserve Heaven. 

Useless. So useless… Broken. Crazy, you’re fucking crazy. She’ll see what you are. A monster. Monster. Monster. 

Arthur’s jaw clenched as his mind spiraled into a never-ending maze of whipping thoughts and insufferable feelings. Self-loathing was becoming too much to bear — so messy it had started to drown him. He felt his sanity slowly slipping through the cracks of his skull and the only thing he could to do make it stop was to break things. And by things he meant Jim. 

“Listen, Jim. I think you should go back home and rest. This is the whiskey talking.” You stated.

“Only if you come home with me, doll.” He ought to say, his grin widening. 

Breathless with rage, Arthur felt the heat pooling in his face. A few drops of sweat beaded on his forehead as he shook his wounded hand to clear his flesh from the shards of glass.

“You really should —“

“Come home with me and I’ll make you beg.” He cut off before you had time to turn his invitation down , bringing his hand on one of your thighs to strengthen his point.

Destructive anger flowed through his veins like lava,  exploding at the moment the man laid a finger upon you. Agile like a wild cat, Arthur jumped over the counter and rushed toward you, his shoulders tensed and his arms swinging as he walked.  Earth shook under his feet, opening the gates of Hell more and more at each of his steps. 

“AL-FUCKING-RIGHT THEN,” He blurted out, standing fiercely behind Jim. Arthur’s thundering voice almost made him jump — and it was enough for him to take his hand off your thigh and turned around to meet the Devil’s eyes. You froze on your stool, astounded by your man’s anger.

His face distorted with both fear and confusion at the sight of Arthur Shelby, green with jealousy and maddened with fury, “What the fookin hell did ya say, pal? WHAT THE FOOK DID YOU SAY TO ME WOMAN?” He roared, blue eyes shining with a threatening glow. At this point, Arthur was almost choking with rage. 

“Oh my God Arthur, I did not know she was your woman. I’m sorry! I really did not —“ Jim could not finish his sentence for Arthur had grabbed him by the neck and dragged him away from you in front of the few last clients' terrified looks.

“You TOUCHED her! You bloody touched her, ME ANGEL. ME HEAVEN. I can’t fucking believe it,” He spat, his words coated with bitter venom. Swirling in the chaotic vortex of his own fury, he did not hear the man’s bargains. And somehow, he did not care. There was nothing he could say to stop him anymore. Jim tried to utter another apology.

He had barely opened his mouth when Arthur’s fist crushed his nose with such a violent blow the sound of broken bones echoed through the Garrison. The man, almost knocked out by the uppercut, crashed on the wooden floor, a jet of blood gushing from his face, “Oi! Thought you fought in France. Come on, bastard! Fight me!” He snarled, teeth bared like a wild animal.

He’s going to kill him. That was what crossed your mind when you came back to your senses, overcoming the shock of seeing Arthur in such a frenzy state. You got up from your stool, “Arthur… Stop it please.” You called him, trying to be as soft as possible not to fan the flames of his anger. 

“I AM NOT GONNA STOP!” He barked, looking at you.

He looked at you 

and you saw the Hell in his eyes.

“Heard how he dared to talk to ye? Ah, you wanted to make me angel beg eh?” Arthur kneeled over the whimpering man, almost straddling his quivering body, to grab him by the collar of his coat, “Yeah that’s what you said right. But trust me, you sonofabitch, I’m the one who’ll make you beg!” He yelled, sending another powerful blast to the man’s face with his fists as sole weapons, adorned with thick silver rings. “BEG, YOU BASTARD!”

“P-please—“

Another disgusting sound of torn flesh and cracking skull filled the room. “By order —“ A third punch. Breaking teeth. Jim spat three of them at your feet. “Of the —“  Fourth. Fifth. His knuckles bruised and split under the strength of his blows but Arthur could not care less. All he wanted was to reduce Jim’s face to an unidentifiable slop of flesh.  “Peaky —“  Dislocated jaw hanging loosely. The horrible sight was accompanied by the cacophony of bloody gurgles. “Fookin — “ Jim had lost count of the punches that rained down on him. All he knew was that his body was giving up. At one point Arthur Shelby had stopped beating him, only to unstrapped the combat knife he kept in his holster, “BLINDERS!” 

“ARTHUR NO!!!”  Running to the scene and falling on your knees, you managed to grab his hands and keep him from stabbing the drunk man, “Don’t do that, please I need you. Please, please stop it.” 

Please.

Your voice, like a light piercing the thick veil of his darkness, snatched him from his murderous craze. Waking up by the smell of blood mixed with your sweet spring-like perfume, Arthur stopped in the midst of what he was doing and realized he was holding a knife above his head, ready to plunge it into a man’s chest. He took a look at you, noticing the shocked expression on your holy face, and all his anger disappeared into a void. His fingers loosened around the knife, which fell on the wooden floor with a metallic noise, “please Arthur, calm down… Call down, Mon amour.” You whispered, begging him with your eyes. Silence fell on the Garrison, as well as in his mind. The maddening voices had stopped and the buzzing hatred had vanished. Arthur left the unconscious man and collapsed in your arms, panting and shaking. Adrenaline made you shiver too, but you gently hugged his frame, one hand stroking his hair, “That’s okay… I’m here …”  You repeated just like a healing chant as a few men grabbed the severely injured victim and took him away from the pub.

“I’m … I’m sorry— Heaven, oh my god —“ Arthur stuttered, slowly realizing what he just did. He buried his face in your breasts, for comfort as well as to hide the blood that had splattered on him. He barely dared to hug your frail body for fear of breaking you.  Sometimes, he swore he had hell in his hands and he did not want to bring you down in the flames with him. 

“Shhhh… Breathe in. Breathe out. You can do it.”  You said with a soothing tone. With divine softness, you ran your fingers through his hair, not minding the blood he smeared on your clothes and bosom, “that’s okay, you’re a good boy..” But as you were trying to chase away your man’s demons, a far too familiar voice echoed in the room.

“What the fuck is this mess?!” Thomas Shelby exclaimed for he had just entered the Garrison, John by his side. His freezing blue eyes looked at you from above.  The king was here and he hated what he saw.

“John, bring Arthur home. Everyone OUT.” 

This was all it took to empty the Garrison from its remaining clients. When John gently put his hand on his older brother’s shoulder, Arthur’s embrace tightened around your tiny silhouette for he did not want to leave you.  “No,” he managed to beg between two heartbreaking sobs. His face still hidden, not daring to look at you for fear of seeing disgust and anger in your eyes, Arthur refused to let you go. Somehow, he was convinced you would not go back home — why would you after what you had just witnessed? “Don’t take me away from her!”  He said, a bit more fiercely, which resulted in John taking a few steps back and looking at you, silently begging you to help him. In the midst of the chaos, only you could bring him back to his senses. A brief sigh escaped from your lips before you gently forced Arthur to look at you.

“Listen, chéri. I need you to go back home and calm down. I’ll be very quick.” 

“No, no, you won’t come back.” 

“ I’ll do,” You wiped away his tears with your thumbs, accidentally smearing more blood on his face doing so, “and when I do, I’ll take care of you alright? I’ll keep you warm and loved.” Punctuating your sentence with affection, you slicked his hair back with a frail but oh-so-loving grin on your face. He finally accepted.

When he left alongside John, your smile vanished and you got up from the floor, legs still slightly shaking. Thomas was still standing in the middle of the pub, towering you with all his height, and looking at you with his cold eyes. His chilling stare followed your movements as you walked to the bar and poured yourself another glass of wine.

“I told you to keep a low profile,” He began. Thomas Shelby’s voice was dressed in an apparent quiet, but something in his tone was threatening — and even though he did not display any sign of emotion, you knew his blood was boiling.

“Oh come on Thomas, all I wanted was to make a surprise to Arthur.” You took a mouthful of wine — the much-needed alcohol calming your anxiety.

Thomas closed his eyes for a few seconds and pinched the bridge of his nose to stop his dawning headache, “ A surprise… I hope you like the result then,” He retorted, before shifting his eyes back to you,

“Listen, I know you don’t like me but — ” 

“He nearly killed someone for you. What the fuck are you doing to my brother, eh?” Tommy slightly tilted his head to the side, a spark of resentment lightening up his icy iris. You remained silent, still not believing Thomas was really blaming you for Arthur’s outburst. Of course, you had not reacted immediately, but the shock had petrified you for a few long minutes — but was it your fault if he had beaten the man? Certainly not. At this point, Tommy was just lashing out at you for all the issues his family was facing. It was far easier than admitting his own flaws and responsibility. Visibly infuriated by your silence,  Tommy walked to you and stopped only a few inches from you, trapping your body between the counter and his own strong frame. He was close — so close your breasts were almost pressed against his chest, “Look me in the eyes when I fucking talk to you, Heaven.” He spat your name with disgust, as if he had just bitten into an apple filled with maggots.

“Get my pretty name out of your mouth,” You looked dagger at him, anger rushing through your veins at such an unwanted proximity. Yet you did not flicker.

“You fucking white Devil,” He hissed through his teeth, his low voice still calm in spite of his blooming hatred, “Are you happy to spread chaos in our life? What do you want from us ey?” He leaned over you, bringing his face closer to yours. With his brows slightly furrowed, Tommy’s sky blue eyes were probing yours, trying to understand the mystery they hid behind their aquamarine wonders, ”What do you want from me?! After Arthur is this me you want to control??” He growled. Your heart raced in your chest — shivers ran down your spine, and goosebumps appeared on your porcelain skin, for his unpredictable behavior was starting to worry you.

“I don’t want anything from you Thomas Shelby. Whether you like it or not I’m being honest with your brother. You know Arthur’s emotional, you can’t blame me for that.  You take away his meds, turn him into a killer, and now you’re surprised he snaps?? How. Fucking. Unbelievable! Do you know what I think? Well, I think you need me to be your scapegoat . You need to blame me for your sins. For everyone’s sins.”

“Fucking burn in hell,” He spat again but could not find something to retort properly. It seemed like the skies gave you the gift of shutting Thomas Shelby's mouth. Instead, one of his hands grabbed you by the neck and forced your face to get closer to his. His breath fanned over your skin, as burning as a dragon’s fire.

“Be careful with the Rule of Three, Thomas. For each spell you cast always returns to you three times stronger.”  You whispered. Then you gathered all your remaining strength to push him away from you, his musky and peculiar perfume almost making your head spin.  Not wanting to stay here any longer — and also longing for a hot shower to wash away the blood from your skin —, you headed to the Garrison’s door. Obviously, Tommy’s eyes followed you but he did not say anything, muted by his resentment. Admittedly, he was torn between the urge to bounce on you and the desire to see you leave. You were about to disappear, the cold breeze of the night jumping at your face and rushing into the pub as you opened the wooden door. But your instincts kicked in. After a few seconds of hesitation, you finally decided to warn little king Shelby.

“By the way..." You looked at Thomas from above your shoulder.

"You should keep an eye on Charles. You really should.” 

He froze. Confused and infuriated.

You left. Hurt and bitter.

When you came back home, you crossed your reflection in the corridor’s mirror.  Your body refused to work anymore and forced you to stop in front of it. Facing your own person was something you hated. With trembling fingers, you brushed the blood stain Arthur had left on one of your cheeks.

Mom! Mom, no!!

I’ll fucking kill you all!!

You clenched your jaw at the memory it triggered, but still, you kept looking at your tainted ivory skin as if you were slowly learning to come to terms with what you did and what you were. Your fingers trailed down your throat until they grazed the top of your bosom, where the blood had accumulated the most. Another painful memory assaulted your mind, replaying the aching, almost inhuman screams of your little sister when her flesh had been eaten alive by the hungry tongues of the pyre’s flames.

Only God knew how you managed to keep your mind from spiraling into the darkest pits of your trauma, but you did — maybe that was because Arthur needed you. That protective instinct was stronger than your own pain. That was why you tricked your body into moving away from the mirror and went upstairs to take a hot shower before joining your man in bed. John had probably managed to convince him to sleep. Or his body had collapsed on the mattress, exhausted by the energy poured in his latest outburst.

As the running water of the shower was filling the bathroom with its regular and soothing noise, you slowly let your white dress slip along your body until it fell on the floor, as well as your lace panties. You stepped over the pile of clothes and, without waiting any longer, you hopped under the shower and welcomed its warm water with utter joy. A sigh of relief escaped from your lips as you tilted your head back, water hugging your body and raining down on your long white mane that cascaded down your lower back. You almost managed to empty your mind when, suddenly, one gentle calloused hand brushed your hip. Jumping in surprise, you turn around and saw that Arthur had joined you under the shower. His hands, arms, and face were still splattered with half-dried blood he had not cleaned. To be true, he had been too busy curling up on the bedroom floor, panicking about at the idea of you leaving him after what you had witnessed.

“You’re here…” His gravel voice said, water falling on his naked body whose millions of freckles drew magnificent constellations on his skin.

“Told you I’d come back.”  

He smiled, softly. His steel blue had stopped avoiding you and was now firmly anchored in yours.

 He took a step toward you.

You stepped back in response until your bare body met the cold shower wall.

Your pulse quickened, fascinated by the way Arthur looked. He had something in his eyes — a mix of limerence and pure madness who, combined with the crimson stains on his face, made your legs weak. His breath was slow but yours soon became erratic, even though he had barely touched you yet. 

“You ain’t scared, love? Please, tell me you ain’t scared of your Arthur…” He said, his lower lip trembling as his body perfectly interlocked with yours. A small growl escaped from his throat at the intoxicating sensation of yours curves pressed against his skin. But despite his inextinguible desire, he still looked at you with hesitation and genuine guilt — his puppy eyes would surely break anyone’s heart.

“No, I’m not scared,” You replied, not shifting your gaze from him. The corner of your juicy and honey lips stretched in a small grin, “You…” You paused, bringing one hand to his stained cheek, “you look pretty with blood all over your face.”  

Arthur’s eyes lightened with both surprise and ravaging desire, for you had witnessed the beast’s violence but still thought he was attractive. A twisted wave of arousal shook you to the core when he bared his teeth in a vaguely dangerous but oh-so-seductive smirk.

“Oh bloody hell, angel…” Not finishing his sentence, his lips captured yours in a fury kiss for he could not wait any longer. The need to possess you, to feel you, was too devastatingly strong to resist. At first, his lustful kiss surprised you, and even though you burnt for him l, a part of you felt it was wrong to feel this kind of twisted attraction. Last thing Arthur needed was someone encouraging his violence — but your brain soon shut down at the thought he did it for you. Only you. Your arms locked up around his neck to deepen the waltz of your tongues, sending fireworks in your loins. It was far than enough to turn Arthur on who, all of sudden, lifted you from the ground as if you weighted nothing.

You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist, already suffocating with the hungry way he devoured your mouth and the shower’s steam accumulating around you.

As water rained down on your two intertwined bodies, it washed away the blood from your skins. The tainted liquid disappeared down the drain, leaving pale red stains on the bathtub's immaculate marble. 

You kissed him harder. Rougher. Until his flesh dived into yours in an explosion of pleasure and shooting stars.

For you had seen the Hell in his eyes, and loved it anyway. 

Any comment, review, reblog, or constructive criticism is welcome. Your reactions really motivate me and keep me alive, so please don't be shy. English is not my first language.

Each chapter of this series can be read as stand-alones but I advise you to read everything if you want a better understanding of details.

Tagging those who might be interested: @areyenotfondofmelobster @meowtastick @babayaga67 @sired-to-hybrid @shelbyssins @kxnnxyasdfg @adaydreamaway08

[opal-owl-flight]

Decimation.

Youve been stealing back millions of eggs from Grizzco for years. And in a single night, they took it all back.

How does it feel to face a possible extinction?

Uhh lore abt Grizzco and the salmonids below!

So in my interp, Grizzco started somewhat small, bc back then Grizz and...an associate... were doing everything by themselves. When his associate went nuts, and almost ended the world by driving the nearby salmonid nations nuts as well, Inkadia launched Project Piranesi. (More on that another time.) Grizz had to think of another way to get those eggs..

…how perfect was it then, that Inkopolis, a fairly new city, was having a bit of a salmonid problem?

Grizz inserted his corporation as part of the damage control along the run routes. it only grew from there.

he expanded to the Splatlands later, though admittedly the folks there were more adapted to the salmonids compared to Inkadia. Its not as strong a hold but Splatsville and its surrounding establishments appreciated the extra precautions Grizzco provided.

Neos born fighting for her life and for her clans. Its why shes so aggressive and finds it difficult to be anything but. If shes not angry, fighting for her clans to have a life of peace…for a present and future where she can live -- what is she?

she and 3 arent so different, in that regard.

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

Grizzco says that the last 7 big run locales had "unusual magnetic readings" and in my world that just means THEY DAMN PUT IT THERE!!!!

They intentionally put something there to confuse the migrators and to steal the next generation -- and the Inkfish? Ofc theyd fight for their homes.

The Splatlandians TRIED to avoid the routes when they built the city after thousands of years of observation. Sorta like the dykes and canals some cities build next to swelling rivers.

Another comparison is that the big runs are just like other natural calamities in the eyes of the nations. Its like a flood, an earthquake, a typhoon. Hell its somewhat announced that way too. The infrastructure is built with the runs in mind. The powers that be have built countermeasures.

*I say try bc some sleazy/unaware corporations still built along those routes bc of the cheaper land/other "economical reasons."

And then Inkadia just wasnt aware at all, being a newer city compared to the ancient splatlands.

Grizzco intentionally causes property damage for bigger gains. Theyve been suffering a "shortage" thanks to Neo3 and the platoon's banditry. In a bid to take everything back and more, they decided to make the biggest event in the Splatlands the salmonid's next target.

They know that EVERYONE will show up to it.

---------

I think seeing that counter keep ticking up gives Neo3 a sense of creeping dread. Thats the number of eggs she put back in the sea. And more. All done in a single night. All her work, down the drain.

The platoon does manage to get a LOT of it back but god. What about the fallen runners, who were supposed to get to the actual spawning grounds?

Those lives disrespected and their bodies unable to feed the spawn. (Theres only so much the survivors can drag back.)

I wonder too, how many of those runners arent there for the runs at this point. They are there to kill.

Ticked off by the persistent attacks and the misdirection. As Polyphemus says in Epic, "Take from you what you take from me."

----------

After multi-magnetic field disruptors in the biggest run, these salmonid have had enough and want to hit back. I wouldnt blame them...god, I wouldnt blame them

The salmonids have never resorted to kidnapping any inkfish. Theyve killed. Yeah. Part of the whole running ceremony. But it was always just a part of that.

To actually go out of their way to fight instead of spawn? Thats different. In the grand run, inkfish may notice that some bosses arent dropping golden eggs. Bc they were never here to spawn. Theyre here to drag every inkfish they find into hell.

Subsequent big runs may end up with more and more of those eggless bosses.

----------

Happy 700 mil!! I HAD MANY NEO3 AND SALMONID THOUGHTS. THINGS ARE GETTING SO FUCKED UP IN SPLOONWORLD. The platoon as a whole is trying to restore peace between the Splatlands, Inkadia, Octaria AND the Salmonid nations, but unless Inkadia and the Splatlands change (COUGHS mostly Inkadia), nothing can really be done.

This is the shit 3 fights for. That harmony is what they dream of. The whole world rests on their shoulders and they press on, ever forward.

[weaselthing]

OKAY REMADE RAINFOREST FLOODS INTRO POST. YOU WANT TO LEARN SO BAD

rainforest floods is an ocverse made by me and @jamescarpenterhooper. its about a waterpark in new mexico and all the horrible people and circumstances it has born witness to. oooo you want to click the read more button so bad PLEASE IM BEGGING

i'll try to keep this as brief as i can so as not to waste your valuable time but just know theres so much i wont be covering here.

rainforest floods is the name of a waterpark that was established in 1971, but dont let that fool you! theres been shit going on for sooo many years beforehand. meet these freaks

^these are the founders of rainforest floods! i dont know how exactly to explain it. patrick and joanna are married. patrick and phillip have had an affair going on for over ten years. which happens to be about as long as patrick and joanna have been married. how strange. anyway

IMPORTANT: for some fucking reason patrick sets a curse on the park that makes it unable to close. KEEP THIS IN MIND FOR LATER BECAUSE IT IMPACTS A LOOOT.

patrick has a favorite little guinea pig among his employees whom he has been trying to teach how to run the park because one day he wont be able to run it anymore. and eventually when 1976 rolls around she gets the chance to do so!

SUUUUUUUUUUE you love her. she takes over the park in 1976 and manages it until 1990. shes a little bit my favorite. she actually does a much better job of managing the park!

but things cant be great forever. in the year 1986 something a little bit crazy happens. one of her employees, bruce krelborn (remember him), is a lifeguard at rff during the summer. just before closing on august 7th, a young woman (remember her too) comes to the park to go on one of the waterslides. but there arent any rafts!!!! oh no!!!! so bruce goes to ask sue about getting more rafts but sues like Um its fine.that doesnt matter.

so then the woman goes down the slide and she gets flung off and dies because she didnt have a raft. and then sues like OKAY.WELL YOU HAVE TO COVER THIS UP NOW. BURY HER RIIIGHT HERE. so he does. and the death is still covered up to this day. surely this will have no long term consequences.

(also semi important to note: sue had a weird favoritism thing with bruce in a similar way that patrick had a weird favoritism thing with her. #cycles)

in 1990 sue decides shes done with this shit and tries to burn the park down and get out of dodge. but unfortunately THE CURSE prevents the park from actually being destroyed. so it looks completely burned from the outside but on the inside its pretty much fine. awesome!

in 2004 two shitheads decide to start the park up again. THEY DONT LOOK LIKE THIS YET I JUST DONT WANT TO PUT IN THEIR 30S IMAGE

"hey bruce krelborn?? that name sounds awfully familiar" YES that is because just a few paragraphs ago he was the lifeguard that had to cover up that poor womans death! he's back now! and also hes like mean and jaded or whatever. the faggot on the right also worked at rainforest floods in the 80s but he wasnt involved in that at all and he is completely oblivious to the fact the coverup is going on despite the fact that one of his employees is the ghost of the woman that died.

also bruce and andy have horrible awful toxic yaoi together and theyre also not dating or anything. what do you get when you combine "insane need for control" (bruce) and "insane need for validation" (andy). and dont say macdennis because thats different. barely.

WAIT WHAT WAS THAT ABOUT THE GHOST??

THIS IS KELSEY shes so awesome oh my god. she cant leave rainforest floods its part of ghost logic. trust me when i say she would leave if she was able to. her and bruce have crazy insane dynamic. when bruce first started reopening rff kelsey didnt recognize him. but he recognized her but didnt tell her he did. so they were actually friends for a little bit before kelsey found out it was the same guy. and now shes mad at him.

THE THING IS kelsey could probably find it in her heart to forgive him. but the thing thats keeping her a ghost is the unfinished business that came from her death being covered up. and shes so scared of actually dying that she cant let go because what if thats the thing keeping her around. LOL.

-> LEARN MORE ABOUT HER HERE. PLEASE READ THSI <-

ok theres like two other employees they dont matter as much

yay jeff and vincent. jeff is normal vincent is Weird. theyre kinda like pim and charlie smiling friends if charlie thought pim was stupid and annoying and pim was a little conspiracy freak. theyre fun i like them. theyre the only ones we're not THAT worried about doing themes and motifs with and even then.

onto side characters now.

^this is kelseys love interest aww. she doesnt have a name dont call her anytihng call her [REDACTED] or unnamed girl. its spoilers. dont worry about it. shes crazyyyy love her. its fun bc she dresses 80s inspired and kelsey died in the 80s so its like wooaahh

and thats [REDACTED]'s brother kyle who is always getting tormented by the staff at rff. he is cursed so that no one outside of his family will ever remember him so its not like they have a vendetta against him theyre all just freaks.

GINGERRRRR she's jeff's girlfriend and shes awesome. her and jeff do bits together theyre funny silly. theyre also kinda high school bullies that never got the chance to bully people in high school so theyre just kind of mean. but at least they dont have septic tank yaoi unlike SOME people

IS THAT IT THAT MIGHT BE IT. IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS PLEAPLEASPELAEPLALSPELAS PLEASE GO TO @rainforestfloods ITS OUR COLLABORATIVE TUMBLR BLOG WHERE WE TALK ABOUT THEM AND WE WILL BE ABSOLUTELY JAZZED TO ANSWER ANY QUESTIONS YOU HAVE ABOUT THEM. PLEASE.

okay bye thats it i hope im not forgetting anything. ooooh you wanna go to waterpark soooo baaaadd

[vaccariia]

would love to year you talk more about quincy if thats ok with you?? saw how you wanted them more moon adjacent ?? whats up with that? and id like it a lot if you delved on quincy's dynamic with elio in general, why does quincy like him?? do they grow closer?? if yes, how, if not why??

omg did you hear that quincy. someone wants to know ur lore 😱😱

gonna answer each q under the cut ;^)

I guess i'll have to start with the name i chose for her..... Her full name is 'Haliya Quincy Tala de Luna' a mouthful i know, but can you blame her for being born as a filipino💔

Haliya - In Philippine mythology, Haliya is the goddess of the moon who hides her beauty behind a golden mask. chose the name because a big part of Quincy's character is her tendency to mask and assume different roles.

Quincy - there wasnt any reason why i chose quincy its just a pretty name LOL

Tala - the Philippine goddess of the stars. if you put the initials of quincy and tala together you get QT (cutie)... elio would probably call her that once theyve been dating for a while ehhehe

heres some fast facts about her too

scorpio sun, taurus moon

ISFP, 9w1

eldest daughter to 1st gen immigrant parents

she's not born on the philippines....

She went to an all-girls school until she was 16, when she had to move to the philippines. she was really awkward when interacting with boys at first. it went away by the time she got into WMU.

red's her fave color <3

uhhhhhhhhhhhh some of these may be relevant some of these may not LOL

On Quincy being a moon-adjacent character

One of the pop media tropes that i would never get tired of would be the sun/moon pairing dynamic.... In which one of the pair would be typecasted as the sun; bright, energetic, warm... This half of the pair would be the outgoing one, who brings out the light of the moon..... it's no surprise that elio would be the sun in this pair

the moon on the other hand is someone who is quiet and introspective... this other half would be someone who's stable and calm... Quincy's a spring MC, people see her as charming, but that's just a front. she's willing to play the role of a loveable MC, but there are times when the mask slips (her meeting with percy did NOT go well sorry perce </3) she's more aloof and private behind that facade of hers. (you know how a moon has two sides? and that one side isn't visible from the earth's POV? that soooo quincycore)

2. On the dynamic of their relationship

I've mentioned that they're a sun/moon pairing! If we're talking about IRL facts, the moon doesn't shine it's own light. the moonlight we see at night is just a reflection from the sun's light..... something something elio helping quincy be herself

another thing i've mentioned the other day is that i plan to make their story a slow burn. Quincy KNOWS she likes Elio but shes too much a coward to confess (quincy at this point has convinced herself that perfectly fine remaining as friends. which is. true. but girl's just burying her feelings until it hopefully dies) LOLLL elio's gonna have to take the initiative here.

3. On the qualities that endears Quincy to Elio

He's kind, empathic, and overall a really good guy. They would probably bond over their shared interests of music... and good food! and they would be there for one another whenever homesickness gets the better of them (Elio missing Hawaii, Quincy on the other hand misses the philippines, and the family she had to leave behind)

4. On the development of their relationship

do they get closer? HOPEFULLY!!! going for that friends to best friends to lovers vibes. I imagine quincy will really start opening up to elio in winter. Winter for her holds so many significance. For her, It's that time of the year where families get together and celebrate the coming year... she's a family-oriented person, so it's hard for her to spend christmas and new years alone

aaaand that's all she wrote.... pls peek my playlists

[stealingpotatoes]

Invitation to talk about Sayuri and Nymie?

:D CAN OF WORMS: OPENED!! i'll tell u abt how they got found as Jedi

ok so Sayuri is one of the students that doesn't rlly go home bc there isn't much to go back to. Basically her parents were Rebellion pilots (or one was a pilot the other a mechanic. kinda unsure) but were both killed in action against the Empire abt 3-4ABY ish. obvs the Rebellion couldn't look after a 7-8yo while fighting the Empire

so the remainder of the squad manage to get her back to her parents' home village/ where she was born. so having like Everything change all at once leaves her pretty ?? and gives her some serious trusting-her-environment issues. her coolgirl "i dont care" persona is very much a result of this bc she's worried abt getting too comfy in smthn. (which is at odds w the OTHER issue she got from this event which is "deathly afraid of flying" an issue not helped if Master "traffic laws are just guidelines" Skywalker is piloting. but she tries 2 act like shes fine)

this is gonna get kinda long so im gonna smack some unposted art here and then go into a readmore

anyway fast forwarding to when Sayuri's abt 13 (roughly 9aby) she's visiting her parent's old squadron on a New Republic bc they'd all come visit whenever she could and after the Empire's fall they did a lot more pick her up and fly her to a base to ALL see her. and they're like omg Sayuri you came at the PERFECT time bc this rlly amazing pilot war hero who's also some like. mystical whatever is here!! he's on his way to some magic place we heard. maybe u can meet him!! which sayuri meets w her usual whatever bc she's not that gassed abt war heroes.

very worth noting that the squad's probably all seen her move shit with her mind, but theyre like oh you know how it is with teenage girls. the "nobody knows what a jedi is" + "the empire existed for a decent bit of her childhood" thing has kept anyone from being like yeahh sayuri should like. talk to someone abt this.

anyway she goes along when the squad are like c'mon let's see if we can see him. ok the only way i can describe this is you know the spiderverse like... spidey-sense recognition thing? that's basically what happens LOL Luke and Sayuri both have a FORCE USER RECOGNISED?? moment and Luke then makes a beeline for her then realises oh shit tiny teenager not jedi. would you LIKE to be a jedi?? and sayuri who hates her village and is feeling the strongest emotional connection she's felt in forever w this stranger she met 2 seconds ago is like okay fuckin sure yeah. and woo jedi!!

i posted my unposted nymie art yesterday but likkeeee pretend theres some here <3

So Sayuri falls into the "one of the Jedi found them thru the force or by chance" category of students who get found. However Nymie very much falls into the second category, which is "CAN SOMEONE DEAL WITH THIS WEIRD SUPERPOWERED CHILD FOR US????"

So 2 things about Nymie: 1. like i've said before, she's from a very rich high class pantoran family. super stuck up, mostly raised by nannies & tutors, but somehow Nymie just didn't get the stuck-up genes like all her (4!!) siblings who are just obsessed w their social standing etc and is instead just :D all the time. 2. her proficiency ig is the living force esp in the 'good at connecting to animals' way (which I think means I legally need to draw her w Ezra).

so the former often led her to escaping her family's stuffy parties and galas or whatever (usually to whoever's house it is' garden or somewhere she wasnt meant to be) to find something interesting. usually a pet <3 one particular time when she was 9 she was following her Pet Sense but couldnt find anything in the house. so she kinda just reached out more and long story short thats how Nymie managed to call this hugemassive beast (i'd tell u what it was if i knew pantoran animals LOL) out of the nearby countryside to her. massively distressing for everyone, all these rich ppl were like "OH MY GOD I NEARLY DIED" (it didnt attack anyone). very funny exciting time for Nymie who was enjoying this new beastie friend til animal control showed up. saddening. everyone is confused bc HOW did that happen

a dude old (and cool) enough to have seen more than one jedi in their heyday (+ idk uni researcher knows his shit) noticed what happened w it going straight to Nymie and overheard her account and realised what happened and was like hi nymie's parents. i think u need to get into contact w the new republic bc thats a jedi right there (which they take and go oo social climbing. we have a jedi child people will think we're cooler. bc theyre assholes)

and yeah im losing steam now but luke shows up and she joins the academyyay!

[bonkbobl]

distraction

ROOSE BOLTON X READER

gif not mine

a/n: so this was the story i wrote like several weeks ago that got deleted by tumblr. i finally got the motivation to rewrite it (bc like i think everything but the last bit got deleted)

summary: roose bolton indulges his urges with lower born northern girls — by no means is this a very well kept secret. he stole your first night from you and your husband, just as he has done with many others in the past, but this time you remain cemented in his mind months after. that is out of the ordinary.

warning: mentions of previous dubious consent situations, no huge smut scenes but smutty descriptions of past memories, unplanned pregnancy, some bits of self hate and shame, take that trigger warning seriously!! reader was a victim of SA from roose and theres a lot of conflicting feelings, cheating depending on your pov but i dont think it counts bc she had no choice, roose is very much not the good guy here please be aware, a lot of victim blaming

Roose doesnt know when he began to care for you. It certainly wasnt that first time he saw you, bathing naked in the river. And it definitely wasn’t when you and your husband showed up at the Dreadfort asking your liege lords blessing for marriage.

Of course, he knew in both instances, he craved you.

A craving that should have been satisfied when he exercised the first night rights. No, somehow between the your first night and now, he had begun to yearn for you again. That night far from expelled you from his mind.

Only a couple times, Roose saw himself riding out of the Dreadfort and he’d see you outside, hanging clothes on a line or tending to some animals.

You’d always spot him, then quickly pretend as if you didn’t, probably praying to each and every God that he wouldn't come by to see you.

In truth, it didn’t matter much whether he stopped by or not. The damage had already been done and there was little his visit could do to worsen things. Your wedding night had ruined your marriage. It was something you had been coming to terms with over the past couple of months.

At first, you had tried your best to console your husband. The experience took a toll on both of you — he had refused your bed for almost a month afterward and after weeks of patience, you were finally able to have a real wedding night.

He was gentle and slow and kind, a noticeable contrast to how roughly Roose took you. You felt ashamed even comparing in the privacy of your own mind, but you thought it before you could even realize how much you hated the idea.

You loved and cared for your husband. He loved and cared for you. He treated you delicately and respectfully, as a husband should. It just wasn't quite as exciting as the passion, the rough kisses, the biting. He almost seemed afraid to touch you.

He’d asked you after you made love, how it was. You braved a smile and nodded, telling him it was wonderful.

Then he pressed, “Better than…”

And inside, your heart shattered, wondering if thats really all he cared about in that moment. With a faltered smile, you nodded again, though it was a lie and in his eyes, you could tell he knew.

When days later you had a more heated argument about the same topic, he revealed he’d been sat outside the door the entire time you laid with Lord Bolton.

That shut your mouth and you stared at the ground wordlessly as he continued to shout at you. Why would he? You thought but you knew your indignation was misplaced. It doesn't make sense why he'd willingly submit himself to the that experience of listening to your lord claim you, but it also didn't make sense why you sounded the way you did while it was happening.

Why did you?

He made a cot in your kitchens and you whimpered, tears spilling into the sheets that you were supposed to share as husband and wife. He didn't share your bed ever again. Granted, it's only been a couple of weeks since you consummated your marriage — you could understand if things just take time.

You were wracked by guilt. But you also had a great deal or resentment and anger building by the time Robb Starks war came about. You spent the length of your marriage comforting your husband over your assault. How is that right?

But the guilt… the guilt never stopped. You close your eyes and you can feel him if you try hard enough — Roose. Feel him kissing, feel him rubbing you down there, and when he made you get on top...

It was shameful.

When the North began to rally for the King in the North, any help was appreciated, even from an untrained soldier such as your husband, even from a simple farmers wife such as yourself. Anyone can do the least bit to help.

You did what little you were permitted to do — cooking for the soldiers, cleaning, dressing wounds. Having things to do with your hands took your mind off of your messy personal life. For a little bit.

It was only a matter of time before you started to feel his gaze on you. Everywhere you went.

Of course, you had expected to see him. But you had also expected him to ignore you.

You expected that if you were to ever approach him, it would cause a huge upset. Everyone knew he almost had his bastard's mother flogged when she brought her baby boy to the Dreadfort and you had no intention of meeting that fate. You thought, all the better for you. He wont seek you out and you would never put yourself through having to look in his face again. Every time you closed your eyes, you could already imagine him on top of you, and how he felt inside you.

It was especially difficult to keep those images off your mind because still, your husband refused your bed, keeping two separate cots in your shared tent.

You're a shameful little thing. Letting your mind wander from your marriage. To the man who ruined it no less...

No such luck met you, however and your expectations to be left alone were subverted.

Roose noticed his bad habit of turning up whereever you seemed to be as well and no matter how he tried to cull it, he'd still find himself wandering a little too close to your tent and the medical wing of camp where he was scarcely needed.

A few times, he'd spoken to you and you always kept your head down, ignoring the heat that would tease at your cunt or the way your stomach would twist at the sound of his deep voice. Only "Yes, milord," "Straight away, milord," "Of course, milord." One time he had even went as far as to compliment you on a job well done, serving the Northern Cause, and you still didn't budge to look up at him, gritting out a particularly bitter, "Thank you, my lord."

You truly were getting more and more bitter by the day. You felt quicker to anger — fed up by your husband, and seemingly unable to escape the watchful eye of your liege lord. You wondered why at first. Now you think, he must get some kind of high from it — from knowing that he was in many ways a part of you now, ingrained in your mind, a constant presence in your marriage. You wondered if he'd ever get tired of this petty humiliation.

You would snap. You were sure of it. One day, you'll say unpretty words, unbecoming of a farmer's wife. You could feel it even when you were alone, trying to unwind. You'd find yourself thinking of a scenario in which you'd be allowed to give him a piece of your mind, and sometimes you'd mutter curses to nothing but the wind as you knitted. You were wound up unbelievably so. You could hardly conceive of a time you felt more anger in you this frequently.

It nearly came to a head when your husband stumbled into your shared tent one afternoon and started clawing at your body. You had been laying on the bed, reading, grateful for a moment of solitude.

It was mid day and he already stunk of ale.

He took the book out of your hands and began kissing up your neck and you shoved him right off, storming out into the open air, furious at his lack of disrespect. Tears already pricking at your eyes.

Of course, you had been hoping he'd warm up to you and come to you one night. You'd talk it through — talk about both your individual feelings. You'd apologize for the cruel words you'd spoken to each other and start making love, start looking forward to the future you'd promised each other. You'd start trying to build a family. You'd begin making love regularly.

All these fantasies in your head — and he just stumbles in one day wanting to stick his dick somewhere.

You had only made it a few meters outside, the loud hustle of the war encampment, driving you even further up the wall. Your mind is too loud. Each day is feeling more and more like a dream rather than your life. Its all too overwhelming.

Your husbands grasp on your wrist halted you and you turned. He brought you in close, his stench absolutely putrid and you could hardly even recognize the boy you agreed to marry — the boy who was so gentle with the little pigs and sheep, who always wanted to feed them when he came to the farm to see you. All in a couple months, spoiled rotten.

"Aye, where d 'ya think you're goin, little lady?"

You snatched your wrist away forcefully, though you didn't need to be so aggressive. His movements were as slurred as his voice and a gentle pull would have loosened his grasp enough.

"I'm not in the mood," You hissed. "You don't talk to me most days now, you haven't shared my bed in weeks, and now you think you can climb on top of me stinking of ale..."

Anger flared behind your husbands eyes, "C'mon. You'll just end up enjoy'en it anyway."

Nothing but hurt stabbed at your heart as you moved away from him, "You act like this all happened to you. That you were hurt, that someone took something from you. You never showed any care for my wellbeing once.” You could feel the tears pricking at your eyes and you moved to storm off from him. “I'll talk to you later. When you're sober."

“Come back here you slut—” Was the last you heard and the last you saw was his hand raising. You turned and ducked.

When you turned, you ran into a firm chest, the hands attached to the man steadied you with a firm hand on your waist. Your husband flinched back when he saw the figure behind you, lowering his hand, but not without a bitter laugh. And you looked up, only needing a microsecond to realize who it was. You promptly, pushed yourself off him, nearly tripping over yourself doing so.

His deep voice rang out before you could start back on your feet, "Is there a problem, my lady?"

"Everything is fine," You held your gaze on the ground, begging that he'd just stay out of this so you can go and leave without creating a scene.

But he didn't see your urgency to leave. He saw your tears. He showed very little visible reaction to this very awkward and unfortunate situation, but you could sense that he was taking this far too seriously for your liking. As you moved to disengage, your husband had to get a last word in.

"It's alright, Lord Bolton. The whore is yours if you'd still like," Your husband, Mister Kent, yelled. Kent, you could hardly stand to share his name anymore.

Your face grew hot, suddenly aware of the eyes on you and you slipped away quickly, feet moving you swiftly to the tree line behind the camp. Roose had little awareness of those watching, simply scoffing at your husbands theatrics before turning to attend to what mattered more in the moment. You.

He called your name once and you kept speeding off, wiping your nose, your face. You refuse to cry.

He called your name a second time, sounding more irritated at your attitude — to think you were making him run after you — and this time, you gave him an answer. You turned and with all the hatred you could muster in you, you uttered a firm, "Don't."

Roose's hard eyes softened, only slightly, but the determination to catch up to you had faded away. With a simple nod, he watched as you finally ran off, seeking your much needed solitude.

Even long after you were already gone, he still thought about you. It was the first time he'd seen real resistance in you and to be truthful, it puzzled him far more than he'd care to admit out loud. He had stepped in, as your legal protector, as any good lord would have and instead of showing gratitude, you were angry at him.

Anyone else wouldn't have dared to speak to him in the ways that you have.

This created conflict — for one thing, he was understanding more and more what a liability to you were. A distraction at first, but the more he permitted himself to see you, the more troublesome you become.

Roose isn't a man to concern himself with peacocking and flitting about pretentiously drunk on power. But he was feared and respected. And he didn't get to be feared and respected by associating himself with beautiful young peasant girls. He didn't make grown me tremble in their boots at the sound of his name by letting little peasant girls talk back to him freely.

This distraction...

You could prove to be more trouble than you're worth. Of the few times he's seen you, he attempted to pay you no mind but sometimes, his eyes wander. Sometimes he's thinking about something more important and he realizes he's looking at you.

Your hair is always done up with a dirty little scarf. Sometimes it wouldn't be done up very securely — locks of hair falling in front of your face as you worked. In those moments it was difficult to look away.

Sometimes you'd wear these milkmaid dresses that you'd usually save for the warmer summer days when you'd work on your farm. And your straps might loosen over your shoulder, falling. You'd have to adjust it back in the right place after completing your task. Those dresses surely complimented your figure in ways that Roose imagined would make even a maester blush.

Your perfect little body looked even better, bare, in the dim firelight. His roaming hands were the best accessory — the best clothing — to compliment and accentuate your curves. The marks he left on you were better than any precious metals or gemstones you could adorn yourself with.

Just remembering what you looked like after he was done with you — chest heaving, warm, sweating and worn out, lips and cunt both so puffy and swollen, and doing nothing as his cum started to threaten to spill out of you. Your mind was wracked with the confusion of actually having had enjoyed it. And when you watched him push his spend back into the hole from where it was trying to escape, that action almost made you want more. He could see it in your beautiful flushed face.

Those memories are enough to make him completely forget himself and lose his train of thought when he sees you.

He'll be noticing you from afar and before he knows it, he's only a few paces from you, looking down at you with nothing to say but some arbitrary order that he'd come up with on the spot — fetch water, bring milk of the poppy for one of the generals, help the women prepare dinner.

You're one hell of a distraction.

Roose considered having you and your husband sent home from the war effort. It would have been the most practical solution. If the king is already flitting about with the Volantis Princess, the North cannot afford so many side tracked leaders.

And yet, he cant help but feel some vague sense of responsibility to you.

Perhaps if it were any other man, this was to be expected, but Roose has bedded many women under the old first night tradition and never paid a second thought to any of them. They were all just his subjects. He'd protect them, he'd do his duty, he'd take what was rightfully his, and he'd punish them if they refused him, but he had more important matters to concern himself with.

Definitely more important than a petty dispute between wife and husband. Though it left a distinctly bad taste in his mouth to think that your husband might be mistreating you in any way, calling you debasing names. Gods forbid, he's been misusing you — Roose knows there isn't a scarcity of husbands that subject their wife to all their most debased urges. Especially when there isn't a good amount of respect between them and it doesn't seem to him that your husband particularly carries much respect for you.

For that man to raise a hand to you.

Roose scoffed at Mister Kent's behavior. He supposes it's partially his fault, perhaps mostly. Or entirely. Not that he'd usually particularly care.

It's just that Mister Kent had an especially blatant disregard for your honor. That the man could even think he had the right to treat you as if you were below him when you were more valuable to the northern cause than he could ever hope to be — it baffled Roose.

Because thats what this was about. The North. Your husband is one foot soldier. You keep the army fed and medicated.

He reasoned with himself, that it's a part of his oaths to protect those small folk that reside in his lands. That includes farmers wives when their husbands aren't honoring the oaths they took at the altar. It wasn't personal. It was something he had overlooked in the past that he'll aim to rectify.

—————

You wiped some sweat from your brow, nodding kindly to the lady next to you, who brought you a fresh tray of bowls to fill. Then on your other side, another woman scurried up to you, tapping your shoulder.

She looked younger, slightly nervous.

“What is it?” You asked, turning with concern.

She spoke quickly, “Lord Bolton ordered me to pass a message,” her mousy accented voice barely audible as the other ladies rushed to get food to the hungry mouths of the men.

You flinched backward, confusion all over your face, but you leaned in anyway. You’d let the poor frightened girl complete her task. Your distaste for Lord Bolton doesn’t have to translate to her.

“Milord said to tell you that your belongings have been moved to a new tent, apart from your husbands, and that from now on, when we are to move camp, you should maintain this change.”

You stared at her, open mouthed, with brows knitted together in frustration, “Where?”

“Next to Milord’s, I believe. N-next to Lord Bolton’s own tent.”

Taking in a deep breath, you moved to turn back to your task. You'd worry about it later... But the offense had already set into your mind and your jaw clenched tightly. Opening your mouth, your original intent was to sternly thank her for delivering the message to you. She’s simply the messenger. You refuse to react and push the negativity of your reaction onto her.

But a surge of anger rose to your throat and you stifled your movements and words, taking a moment to collect yourself and think about it. Yes, this girl is simply the messenger. You should take your grievances to the man.

You nodded politely at the girl, “Thank you. Could you...” You gestured at the cauldron that you had been manning and nodded toward it pointedly, “Just for a moment. I need to speak find Lord Bolton and speak to him about why such changes have been made.”

“Of course, my lady,” She curtsied and rushed to take over your job for you.

You stopped in your tracks just as you were about to leave. “I’m not— Theres no need for formalities. I’m not a lady. We are neighbors if I am not mistaken. Your tavern is not far from my husbands farm.”

She nodded, hesitant, but conceded, “Of course… Its just… Lord Bolton—”

“Has overstepped greatly,” You finished.

She refused to respond, simply nodding in acknowledgment of your opinion. You’re brave to speak against your liege lord in such a manner.

You took your leave quickly, trying to find your way to the Lords and Ladies table as swiftly as possible. Perhaps there was still a way to reverse this change before anyone else takes notice and rumors begin to swirl.

Right next to his tent. What was he thinking? Did he simply aim to humiliate you— Humiliate your husband more? Was what damage has already been done not satisfactory— that he must shame you not only in the eyes of your husband but the entire North?

You were never meant to garner attention. A simple farmers wife was the life you thought you’d be destined for. And that was happy.

He’s spoiling it all.

You stepped up to the table, heart beating loudly in your chest, the fear feeling more like rushing adrenaline due to the fury underlying. “My Lord,” You greeted, trying to stay as respectful as possible.

Roose turned to you, as did your king, Robb Stark, Catelyn Stark, Theon Greyjoy, Rodrick Cassel, Rickard Karstark, and Greatjon Umber. Just as they did, Most of them had turned back to their previous conversations, passing you off as a servant girl with no doubt a simple question regarding something logistic. A fair assumption. And you were grateful for their dismissal. It made it less nerve-wracking.

Roose raised his brows at you. The only one of his companions that maintained an interest in you was Lady Stark, who looked to him for his reaction, and back at you.

“May I speak with you? Alone?” You pressed.

Roose looked you up and down, slightly amused by how ticked off you appeared to be. Pursing his lips and continuing to chew on the veal you and your ladies had prepared, he shrugged, “Whatever you have to say, surely, can be said now. You have no secrets to keep from the mother of the King, I’d hope?”

You glanced at Catelyn who still watched you curiously, then back at Roose. Taking a deep breath, and sighing it out, you kept your glaring eyes trained on him. “You had no right,” You held your ground firmly. The boldness of your words attracting the interest of the others once again, and despite the building pressure of those eyes watching you, you steeled yourself, holding to your purpose, “No right, My Lord," And through your words, you decided to add, "R-respectfully,” to soften your tone. Though it was only out of fear, not because you actually respected the man.

“No right to do what?” He challenged, icy blue eyes not budging a single bit.

You were taken aback, shaking your head and recoiling into yourself as if you were disgusted by him — which you were. You kept reminding yourself to be disgusted with him. He’s a disgusting man. Stubborn, always needs to get his way, arrogant, assertive, pragmatic, effective, dominant.

Though you couldn't help the bit of desire for him that you felt. It rose like bile in your throat just like every other time, but unlike every other time, the disgust that you'd usually feel toward yourself turned to anger, directed at the man in front of you.

“You—” But your next words died on your lips and you took in another deep breath, trying to keep calm. You were already bold for talking to him in an accusatory manner. You cant afford to curse at him or say all the things you want to say. Not with all these eyes on you. “I wish to share my tent with my husband. You had me moved. Without my consent.”

He gave you a look of faux consideration, as if he were truly listening to you and considering a change in his actions but you knew he wasn’t. He was condescending, “I seem to remember this is the same husband who stumbles around, a drunken fool, and raises his hand to his wife in front of not only his fellow soldiers but his liege lord.”

“Convenient picture, you paint,” You seethed, articulating each word with venom, no longer trying to hide any disrespect.

“Was there a lie in my words? Does he not hurt you?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. Dont pretend you care. Not now. Don't you fucking dare. “Well—" Yes, but would have been your next words but you bit your tongue. The point of this wasn't to debate your husbands behavior toward you. You, yourself found it distasteful. You should focus on the matter at hand which is that you don't want to be so close to this man. "I’ll have my own tent then. If it pleases you, My Lord,” Your words still full of spite, “But you’ll have my belongings moved again so that I’m not right next to you.”

Catelyn’s mouth parted and she stared at the man beside her. You kept your eyes stubbornly trained on Roose, looking at him with great offense and sass in your eyes, as if to ask him with just a simple movement of your head, what the fuck were you thinking?

Roose smiled, mostly to himself. Strangely your boldness did nothing to anger him. He expected some more gratitude, maybe. But you’re spirited. For some reason that excites him.

“No,” He said simply, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table, “That won’t happen.”

You scoffed, shaking your head, entire face stiff with anger. “I don’t know what you expect,” You asked, “A thank you?”

“It would be appreciated. When your liege grants a favor—“

“A favor, ” You laughed, growing more audacious by the second, but your tone became mocking “A favor out of the goodness of your own hear—”

“Yes, it was a favor,” Roose said, more stern than he had been for the rest of the conversation.

Your expression settled into a hard frown, realizing yourself and your lack of power in this situation. You bit the inside of your cheek.

“And you’d do well to remember not to interrupt a Lord whilst he is speaking.”

You stared stubbornly for a moment, eyes narrowing in on him, challengingly. Then a few moments passed without a word between either of you.

Finally, you surrendered, valuing your head above your pride, “As you wish, My Lord. Thank you.” But the submissiveness of your words could not hide the unmistakeable snark in your tone.

Without granted leave, you turned on your heel and stormed right back off from where you came.

Roose sat back in his chair, ignoring the few lingering gazes of his peers. Though Karstark and Umber quickly busied themselves with their previous interrupted conversation with the younger Greyjoy, the King spared him one last curious look before joining their round of jibes against each other.

It was Lady Starks stare that bore uncomfortably into Roose’s profile.

But he paid it as little attention as possible. He took to his neglected meal and cut another slice of that veal. Stone faced, but thinking about your angry little face. The bite and the snark behind your voice. How badly, did he want to stand and take you right back to his tent and make you understand just how passionate he really was about your protection and safety. Just how capable he is of providing it, unlike that pitiful husband of yours.

As he chewed, the dreadful little realization started to tease at his mind. That perhaps this distraction was spiraling a little far beyond his control.

But the image of your angry, eyes softening as you lay beneath him… the fury dissipating into pleasure, it was more than enough to convince him that control over himself was not what was at the forefront of his mind, nor did he want it be. His desire was beginning to win over his will.

He’ll have you. And you’ll welcome it.

—————

Your days were spent mostly to yourself. Regretfully, you were actually quite thankful for the change in living arrangements. You no longer had to interact with your husband, who had become a near constant anxiety before. And Roose kept his distance for you — perhaps he's gotten the hint...

You could only hope that was the case.

One morning ripped you from your idyllic independence when you found yourself running and wretching into the nearest empty vessel nearly the moment you stood from your bed. You threw up two more times that morning before you gave in and asked a nurse to give you something for the sickness.

That inevitably led to the conversation you had been dreading since the moment you woke up.

"When did you last bleed?"

"I..." You paused to think on it but it couldn't come to you. Two cycles must have passed you by without you even realizing because three moons ago was as recent as you could think of.

Then a new anxiety began to build in you. Because you distinctly remember your husband never consummated your marriage until a mere couple weeks ago — more than a month after your wedding night.

"I'm not sure."

"The sickness means you've had it for probably a bit less than two months now," She informed you, counting on her fingers, "half a month for the babe to take hold, and then the mother gets sick after another month. Half a month for those with a more fragile countenance."

"Is there any way it could have started within two or three weeks?"

Her brows furrowed confusedly for a moment before the gears began to turn in the woman's head and her expression soured to vague pity, though she stepped back from you, almost as if your shame could be contagious. She shook her head lightly, and full of judgement, "There is always moon tea."

Moon tea was exactly what your husband suggested when you told him later. Though you shocked yourself when the a creeping reluctance rose to the front of your mind.

Mister Kent detected your hesitation almost immediately. Before you could fully process your own thoughts and feelings on the matter, he was invigorated by his personal mission to kill the mere idea of you possibly keeping the child.

"You can't mean to say you actually want to keep it?"

All you did was glare, unsure of yourself. "I don't know."

"How can't you know?"

"I don't know," You repeated, stepping back from the man that you once loved. "I don't know if I want to."

"What could possibly make you want to keep it?"

You scoffed at him, "It's still my child," you tried to reason, anything that would get him to empathize, even a little bit, with you. But it was to no avail, you were quickly realizing. He hardly ever really cares to see things from your view.

"It's not mine."

"That fact doesn't negate what I just said," You shot back, brows furrowing frustratedly at his selfishness.

"You'd have me raise another man's bastard?"

"We are married."

"We won't be if you have that bastard."

And there, you let out the breath you hadn't realized you'd been holding. You smiled humorlessly to yourself, scoffing once again at the situation.

"You can't possibly have thought that I would be amenable to this,” he filled the silence

You simply shook your head because no, you didn't think he would be happy. Of course he wouldn't be happy. But this was the point of no return. If you were to keep the child, there'd be no mending your relationship with him.

Overcome with some bout of sentiment, you took a good look at his face, trying to remember any reason you should pick him over your unborn child — nothing but a bundle of cells right now but probably more capable of truly loving you than this man ever would have been. For a moment you even felt the creeping feeling that you were grateful the child wasn't your husbands.

"I need time to think about it," You spoke carefully, so as not to antagonize him but also not to give him hope.

He rolled his eyes.

For you, that had done it. You still weren't entirely sure if you'd keep the child but next time you spoke to your husband, you'd bring up the question of an annulment. You didn't wait for whatever response he might have before leaving.

—————

Roose caught you just in the corner of his eye. He'd watched you enough to recognize you by the way you walked — or paced, was more accurate to describe it. You were always pacing from place to place, anxiously. He diverted his gaze away from Catelyn Stark who was speaking to him about something mundane, something to do with the Kingslayer, their most recent and most valuable bargaining chip.

You escaped his view as quickly as you came in, disappearing angrily into your tent. You're always upset. At least this time it has little to do with him. He's been giving you some much needed space for a little while.

He knew he stared just a little bit too much when he turned back to Catelyn in front of him and saw her looking to their side, at the little slit of fabric through which you disappeared. Then she looked back at him, curiously.

Roose smiled politely, silently urging her to go on, and hoping the damned woman wouldn't nose around.

"She's pretty, that one."

"Yes," Roose hummed, mentally cursing himself for being a little too careless, "The wife of a farmer. They live about a quarter hour ride south of the Dreadfort."

Catelyn hummed too, eyebrows moving upward awkwardly. "A-and how did you come to be acquainted... with this farmers wife?"

Roose stalled for less than a second before coming up with some farce. It wasn't difficult to think up a simple lie. Although it was barely a lie, simply an omission of most of the truth, "Her father was the Dreadfort's main supplier of milk. And eggs."

"Ah..." Catelyn nodded, and Roose knew she only accepted that answer as a courtesy, clearly aware that there was more to the story. "And her husband..."

Roose rolled his eyes at the mere mention of Mister Kent, "A drunk."

Catelyn smiled a bit at that, eyes narrowing with skepticism, "Unfortunate." She then cautiously pushed, "You seem rather attached to—"

Roose took a deep impatient inhale, causing Lady Stark to quickly drop the subject.

"I take it you were good friends with this girls father. And the only reason you seem to be so protective is because of that friendship..."

The impatient Dreadlord spared Lady Stark a look of incredulity. He wondered why she’d try to come up with a cover story for him when they both know she believes something else — when they both know the reality is something else.

"I would hope that is why, Lord Bolton," She addressed his disbelief, "This girl... She seems to have a kind heart, a strength and resilience, if you will."

For a moment, Roose's irritation blended into pure amusement at why Catelyn Stark would even begin to lecture him on what kind of person you were but she left no room for Roose to speak in protest.

"She is firey."

Roose chuckled, "Yes."

Yes, you are. Even the night he took you, you tried to hold your chin up high and face him. And you did, you glared at him as he entered you, your hardened, angry eyes wavering with each thrust until your furrowed brows knitted together with pleasure replacing your stubborn resistance.

"Don't dishonor her," Catelyn stated her point, finally.

For a moment, Roose scarcely knew what to say. It was a long moment, longer than it would usually take for him to generate a response.

Don't dishonor her.

He's afraid it might be too late. All those things Catelyn had said about you, after only bearing witness to a single heated interaction between the two of you, were all true. They were all things he came to learn about you slowly, all things that made it even harder to forget you or cast you aside.

It was in that moment that Roose came to the realization that while your husband wasn't a very good man, he might objectively be much worse. Well this wasn't the moment he realized that, of course the head of the house with the flayed man on their banners would be a slightly more rough around the edges than a simple cattle farmer.

But he committed a grave crime against your honor. Your husband has also sullied your honor in different ways, but he could hardly claim that he has treated you the way you really deserved to be treated.

"I'll try not to," Roose responded with a nod, and walked toward your tent.

Hopefully there was still time enough to rectify his mistake. He really shouldn't have let his desires get the better of him so easily. The moment he saw you, he knew he had to have you. It always goes like this. Its never ended with some strange sort of sentiment developing — that just wasn't the type of man Roose was. Not until now.

"My lady," Roose said once, trying to alert you of his presence outside your tent.

Upon hearing his familiar, deep voice, you looked up from your spot on your cot. You wiped your face of the few tears you'd allowed yourself to shed and scooted off the bed, but you hesitated for a moment.

Do you really wish to speak to him? All this pain caused by him. You should tell him to fuck off right back from where he came.

"My lady," The voice said, more firmly this time and with that signature tint of irritation that you'd come to know so well.

You sighed. You should speak to him about these matters. It concerns him. You're not going to get rid of the child, you couldn't bring yourself to. Inexplicably so, the thought of having a child to take care of, running around you, carefree and smiling, outweighed any hatred you may hold for that child’s father.

If your lord is kind, he'd give you an allowance like he did his bastard's mother, perhaps even allow you to reside in the Dreadfort. You could raise your child to be better than the men you've known in your life.

You went and opened the flaps of the tent, cocking your head to signal him in. He stopped as the tent closed behind him and you stood there with your eyes trained to his chest, waiting for him to take more steps inside. It remained as such for a second, then two, and you stood, confused as to why he was just standing in front of you instead of moving inside to the table set up in the center.

He took off his glove and you watched his hand come up to touch your chin. He tilted your face up, your eyes met his, observing as he inspected you. He looked down to consider something, and then met your eyes again promptly, a strange hesitance in them.

It fascinated and scared you at the same time. To see Roose in a somber mood. Skepticism remained on your face, waiting for some punchline.

"What do you want?"

His lips parted for a slow inhale, the closest thing he’d permit himself to a sigh. A sudden rush of heat felt as if it struck him in the chest. You were all he could want. If you caught on to his reaction to your words, you didn't say anything.

"I... wanted to apologize," and it was the first time you ever felt really shocked by anything Lord Bolton said or did.

Everyone to the east of Winterfell heard tale of the cruelty of the leech lord, not even his insistence on taking your first night managed to surprise you. But this... You suddenly wanted to listen.

"I fear I've behaved unseemly toward you, disregarded your honor. For this, I ask your forgiveness."

You realized he was finished and closed your open mouth, searching for an answer. You felt that he expected you to forgive him. But in truth you didn't really want to. "I don't think it's really that simple, my lord. I appreciate the sentiment but... I..." You huffed, looking down, frustrated at your ineloquence today. But he caught you off guard with this and you hadn't rehearsed an angry response to an apology ever.

His gaze was still fixed on you as he readjusted the weight he was placing on his feet, the first ever signs of desperation obvious in his body language and you couldn't say you ever thought him capable of this range of emotions — that in it self was impressive. For the first time, he was squirming, awaiting your words instead of you hiding away from his.

"I cant forgive you so easily. Not for this."

"Well what can I do?"

"What?"

"Is there something I could do to earn your forgiveness, I find that to be a fair question," Roose said quickly and clearly irate.

You looked up at him and laughed nervously because he was glaring down at you and to be honest, this was also a first. You wouldn't think it to be the case with him. And even in that moment, you wracked your brain for any moment in which you'd seen Roose truly angry, not just slightly iritated or mildly annoyed, but frustrated and emotionally driven to anger.

He huffed and pulled himself from you, walking further into your tent. You stayed at the entrance for a moment, staring at nothing, then you looked at him, still failing to find the correct words.

Another nervous laugh escaped you as you said, "Again, I don't think it's that simple. You cant just... do a favor and expect everything to be forgiven."

Roose stood, facing away from you, clearly thinking to himself. He looked all broody and upset and you couldn't help but laugh again. The men around here are all so wrapped up in themselves and their unprocessed emotions and you're always the one to carry their weight.

"Why do you care?"

He didn't answer for a moment. And you wondered if he even really heard you, but as you were about to repeat yourself, he responded, "I don't."

You scoffed, "Then you overstep again. If you don't care why do I have to forgive you. Why can't I just hate you for the rest of our miserable lives?"

He turned to you, eyes narrowed, taking you in, "Do you?"

"I don't know," You answered completely honestly, "You... ruined my marriage."

He responded quickly, firmly, and frankly, "I admit my part. I admit the dishonor I've brought you. I admit that I overstepped my bounds. These things I will admit, but I was not the demise of your marriage. Many have survived worse and continued to foster a deep love. I know, because..."

"Because we weren't the only ones," You finished, nodding. You knew. "But I'm the only one of those women who you continued to... pester afterward. You claimed your right. What right did you have stepping into my marital quarrels?"

"You'd be a fool to stay with that man after the way he treated you."

"And what's my alternative?" You asked, your voice full of humor, "Will you marry me, Lord Bolton? Is that your proposal?" You shook your head as he didn't respond, not even visually. You both knew he'd never take you to wife. If he wanted to, he would have already. But a man like Roose Bolton would never marry for love with a girl with nothing to her name but a couple of cows.

"I am sorry," he said, pausing to find the words, "That your husband has chosen to place blame on you for what I had forced you into. However, given that, surely you must see he is no man at all."

Of course, you agreed, but you didn't really see what his point was. So you said nothing, trying to come up with something. In the mean time, he continued.

"I can't marry you. But I can protect you. I'll send you to the Dreadfort. You'd be given a job, a room..." You'd be close by. "Your husband too, if you truly insist on dragging him along."

"For what in return, a bed warmer?"

"For nothing in return," He corrected, face twisting with indignation, "What kind of apology would that be if those were my terms?"

You kept your distrustful eyes trained on him, not wanting to give him any kind of small victory. But you couldn't deny the offer sounded tempting, especially with the most recent development — you were going to ask for an annulment to your marriage the next day, you were going to keep the baby. You had the same thought — living at the Dreadfort, under his protection. It just felt more rotten leaving his mouth than it did in your head.

He took a few cautious steps toward you and gently took your hands in his, “You’re a good woman. You do your duties, often even without receiving thanks. You’re a loyal woman, strong, passionate…”

You inhaled deeply, still trying to keep some emotional distance but he looked earnest, forehead creased by the way his eyebrows pushed against them. His eyes were the widest and most inviting you’d ever seen them, no jokes or hidden arrogance in them.

“I… care. I feel as if I’ve committed a great crime against your honor, and you are the most honorable woman I’ve come to know in all my years,” he confessed.

It was something that struck you in the heart — something you couldn’t push out. You had been questioning your own honor. You wanted to live an honorable life but recent events had made you feel like a failure in that respect.

Especially… you ripped your eyes away from his, sighing to yourself. Especially the way he looks at you and the way you cant help but look at him with the same longing. It was hard to hate him before when he was nothing but a prick who happened to know how to fuck the shit out of you. Now, as the father of your child, standing in front of you and whispering reassurance and praise, it was damn near impossible.

He finished his small declaration simply, “Don’t resign yourself to a miserable life. Let me make it better for you. We don’t have to speak to each other once you’ve moved into the fort.”

Decisively, you figured without a husband and with your father long gone years ago, you could do with an ally and protector. Of course, Roose Bolton wasn't ideal but he had the most reason out of anyone else to want to protect you — truly protect you

Never mind your night of passion. You tried not to think about it, especially not with him in front of you. It just clouds your judgement unnecessarily to think about his lips on your skin and his hands gripping roughly at your body, pulling you mercilessly against him. His fingers tangling in your hair, or moving your hips as you sat over him.

You cursed yourself. You hadn't meant to curse it out loud though and Roose tilted his head, brows coming together in a mix of confusion and anticipation as he was still waiting for an answer.

Unsure of yourself and your decisions in this moment, you started where you thought may be the most important, which was to explain your reasonings for everything, "Mister Kent and I will be seeking an annulment."

Roose didn't say anything, contrary to your expectation that he'd have some distasteful quip about how it was a long time coming. He just watched you respectfully. It was promising.

"I trust you will grant this annulment?"

"As your liege, I would, but I'd require a reason. A reason that would be considered valid to the Gods."

You took a deep breath and braced yourself, taking a few steps toward him. You pursed your lips in a tight, awkward smile and looked up at him. You felt like you couldn't stall this enough. This is as good a time as any.

"A reason valid for the Gods," You nodded, offering a sardonic chuvkled, "I've a damn good reason. I'm carrying a child that's not my husbands."

You watched closely for his reaction, but it was as if he froze in time, staring. He did nothing but stare. You wondered if he thought you were joking. Then he blinked and you decided he must just be thinking really hard.

"He refused to bed me for a time... the first, and only time, was about a fortnight ago now."

He continued to say nothing, but his eyes went off to the side, seemingly doing math. You nearly laughed at the sight of him doing the calculations. But you saved him the trouble.

"For reference, my wedding was about six weeks ago," you filled in the blanks for him, and tilted your head as his gaze met you again. You looked down at his lips for just a moment but quickly corrected yourself, "So... It's highly unlikely — well impossible that it would be his. A wet nurse I saw this morning said that sickness doesn't start until at least a month of having the babe."

"And it's started?" He finally asked.

You nodded, daring yourself to hold his gaze, "This morning," his eyes boring into you caused you to take in and let out a heavy breath, your lids growing heavier the more he searched your soul for answers — signs of deception. Though both of you knew there'd be no reason for you to deceive.

It was only when your lip twitched that you realized how close you'd gotten to him. You promptly blinked your head clear and looked down. He tilted your face up to find your gaze again, eyes raking your face. His own eyelids were just as hooded with desire.

"So It's mine," He stated, it wasn't a question. "You carry my child?"

His words shouldn't have excited you. It's the last thing it should do. But the reminder that you have Roose Bolton's baby in you, that the seed he shot into you on that one night had managed to take root in you by chance — that you carried the product of your shared passion that night... It made your stomach twist familiarly. It was only that this time, you didn't feel guilty thinking your husband never made your stomach twist that way.

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying desperately to keep your mind grounded and stubborn. "Unfortunately. Well, maybe Fortunately. I'm not sure the alternative is kinder. I'm only telling you as a courtesy, because you'd find out eventually if I'm to be living at the Dreadfort."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that. He truly hopes that no matter what, you never lose that bite to you. His fingers loosened around your chin but you held his gaze, understanding that this is what he preferred.

It just made you nervous. Neither of you spoke for a few moments, just looked at each others faces — really looked, and tried to know each other for the first time. You pushed away the feeling of wanting to kiss him, weakly this time, but you really cant. You haven’t even annulled your marriage yet and just because Roose says some pretty words to you doesnt make everything okay.

"He wanted me to take moon tea," you said, unsure of why you did. Just to keep talking, probably. Because you could see him looking at your lips with intent.

His eyes narrowed, still endlessly scanning your face, every so often landing on your lips. You tried to create a little bit of distance, and continued to talk, hoping it wouldn't escalate any further than this current tension. But even as you tried to pull back, you couldn't help but feel slightly drawn toward him. Especially with the way he was looking at you, it was hard not to have flashbacks to your old passion.

You continued, "I knew I wouldn't," Again you weren't sure why you felt the need to say it. You meant to reassure him that you wouldn’t have done such a thing without informing him first — that you were his loyal subject. It read more like a confession than anything else. It fanned the fire burning behind Roose's ice cold eyes. As you said it, you couldn't help but mirror his response.

How had you come to be so loyal to this man and he to you?

You still find reason to dislike him... but the thought of getting rid of his child had never truly been a realistic option to you. Even if you had the moon tea in your hands, even if you started to drink it, you'd remember the way he looked deep into your eyes as he took you — well it wasn't much different from the way he was looking at you right now.

The only real differences between now and then was that you’d been more naked that day, he was inside you, and after taking in your flustered state with those ever intense eyes of his, he captured your lips in his hungrily.

His face drew closer to yours. Then your lips brushed.

You pulled back slightly.

His hands came up to cup the back of your neck and cradle the under side of your skull as his face chased yours.

No… even if you had the tea in your hands and sipped a mouthful of the poison, you'd have remembered this exact energy and you would have spit out that tea before you could swallow it down.

One last attempt to pull away, feeble, and barely helping in any way, "I couldn't," left your lips, the words spoken more or less into his mouth, and you closed your lips onto his.

[iwanty0uu]

Heyyy how yall doin! Me? im just chillin thinkin about how onyankopon loves carribean girls

(im literally saying this because im jamaican but anyway)

N/N MEANS NICK NAME BTW!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

You whined your hips as your favorite song came on, touching your waist and breasts all while making eye contact with the tall darkskin boy through the crowd. Your best friend Mikasa always hosted the best parties, and always had the best playlists. Fever by Vybez Cartel rung through the speakers as you straightened yourself up and walked towards the figure across from you. You felt his dark lustful eyes burning through you and it turned you on but continued to ignore the the wetness and the butterflies in between your thighs.

You met the tall boy with a simple smile, well aware of how intimidating he looked while towering over you, but still managed to hold eye contact which caught his attention. He knew he looked intimidating, but it was always a nice surprise when a bold girl made the first move.He was practically eye fucking you. Your tight black dress held together by crisscross strings emphasized the curve in your torso ,while the dress flattered the mounds on your chest and made your ass nearly pour out of the bottom of your outfit. The red tattoo on your side barley showing but just enough to show the vine and hibiscus flowers which wrapped around to your lower back. Leaning over you to get a better view of your tattoo, he focused on your back dimples and couldnt help but smile to himself.

“Where u from pretty girl?” he questioned as he placed his drink down, leaning up against the wall behind him. Although the music blared, his deep voice felt like it penetrated every sound in the house, making his words clear, sharp, and only for your ears. You smiled as you flipped your hair over your shoulder revealing a gold chain in the shape of your homeland. “Born and raised” you replied as he smiled. “Ouu you Caribbean girls are dangerous, i hear yall cheat a lot, Im Ony by the way.” His smile was perfect, the pool in your underwear felt like it soaked through your short black dress, shiittt if he was thirsty you had a perfect beverage for him but i digress. “I’m y/n and you can come find out yourself, i meann i wont cheat unless you give me a reason too” ..your confidence could easily make a man’s dick wet,and if ony didnt have on them ksubi jeans the pre cum in his boxers would be visible.

“n/n you is a trip, can i call you n/n? imma call you n/n and if i hear anybody else calling you that imma kill them” he said as he faked a deadpan face. He was funny, he actually made you laugh, he was the first dude you met who wasnt the actual joke in your life. “boy bye everyone calls me that, you finna have a long ass hitlist then hun” you said as you rested your hand on your waist. He looked you up and down again and laughed “stop eye fucking me” you said cockily. Now to be fair, you were doing it first, thats why he stared back at you while you were dancing, and you did want to get to know him more. So, you grabbed his hand, as walked backwards slowly through the crowd. You knew you looked good and fucked good so your confidence was on one hundred tonight

“Hey, lets go back to my place and get to know eachother more..I mean you look all lonely standing here in the corner by yourself sooo we can def be friends” you couldnt resist his ass, and its obvious that he was feelin you too, but you wanted to get to know him more for real, i mean its not like fuckin him till your jaw locked didnt cross your mind once or twice but your intentions werent JUST to use him for his body, sexual thoughts are part of human nature and you just so happened to have some about the fine black man in the room! honest! He did look like he could be some good entertainment for however long he planned on staying in your life, there’s nothing wrong with a boy toy or two.. “Ony baby do you got a girl? i dont wanna be playin in nobody face looking dumb now..” You aren’t insecure, but everybody and they momma cheats in new york.. so theres nothing wrong with asking. “absolutely not..i gotta stay loyal to my girl” he said as he stopped you and gave you a twirl as he held your hand. hm, bold..

Turning back around while he opened the front door for you, it was already set in Onyankopon’s mind that you two would be more than friends..more than bestfriends at that, and he would know all about your favorite things, and your favorite parts. And if you were sure about one thing in your life, it would be that he would be yours by the end of the night, and he knew which set of girls did it the best. Walking off of the front lawn he opened the passenger door for you and quickly ran to the drivers side.

“manner-able too” you thought to yourself looking pleased. “So Ms.Y/n,” he said taking a sigh and turning the ac on low, causing the pine tree air freshener to dance around the rear-view mirror. “Who taught you how to whine like that? Im a visual learner by the way..” he said as he licked his lips and smiled, looking even finer in the low car light which illuminated his grills and nose piercing, rubbing his hands together showing his gold watch which sat pretty, almost as pretty as you on his wrist, accenting his thick veiny hands. Polished fingers looking so delicate and so clean, so glossy yet so rough. Everything about him was fine, and looked expensive.

His clean white shirt didnt have to be name brand to make his outfit hard.. damn was he good at existing, everything about him was so clean and polished. He is aesthetically pleasing to the eye which not a lot of people are. You couldnt stop looking at him in this lighting.. the low dim lights of the party didnt bring out all of his features as well as the car light did. Around his eyebrow rested a small but noticeable scar and a double slit eyebrow made his sharp features even more attractive.

“Lemme take a picture of your fine ass to make this view last longer” you said while grabbing your phone to snap a quick pic, quickly opening snap since their camera was the best. “i would send it to you but i dont have your number, here put it in” he laughed at your demand for his number. “You want me to drop you home? and you still aint answer my question mama” he added on determined.

“I’ll answer it when i get home, its still early so you can come up with me till youre ready to leave, but until then..” you said as you pulled him close and pecked him on his lips, “whats your favorite color?”

Boy are you in for the RIDE of your life..

guysss i hope you enjoyed this i feel like im getting back in the groove with this writing thing this was also long as fuck😭 so please give me any tips and tell me if you liked it! Big up my carribean people and give me some scenario ideas!😋~ ℒℯ𝓁ℯ<3

[lime1991]

hold on i have to recraft my trolls age hc... i just learned there was a brozone website and on said site we have:

January 2nd 1999 is, maybe, Branch's birthday? And instead of being like "awesome im a big brother" Floyd just goes "thank god im not the baby anymore" after hes born.

Baby Branch's oldest message is this:

February 26th 1999. He's over a month old at this point, but the phrasing of "tonight's show" leads me to believe he was part of the band from literal birth (also why Floyd's first reaction to his birth is "thank you for saving me") and therefore this isnt his first show.

The last logins for all of the brothers is March 11th 1999

And just a day before, according to John Dory, new merch dropped

Soooo i think its safe to say around March 11th 1999 is when the band broke up after their ruined performance, which makes sense that it was also the last time any of them logged into the website. (though i think it would be sad and sweet if it showed branch had logged into it sometime recently but whatever)

So that brings me back around to the age thing.

The trollspedia page states Poppy is around 21-23, and I agree and am more inclined towards 22-23 personally. Seeing as Branch was born in January 1999, he'd be 24 in 2023. But the only thing that confuses me a little is Branch saying its been 20 years since the band broke up:

For 1999 to be 20 years ago, that would mean the movie takes place in 2019. And... honestly that's not too far off from 2023 so i don't mind that being the case, its always vague about what year its meant to be, a lot of animated movies are like this. Also i wanna bring up that the song Bridget and Poppy sing in the beginning (Good As Hell by Lizzo) came out in 2019, SO... its not impossible that the movie is meant to take place in 2019.

SO... with this all in mind... my new theory/headcanon:

As of 2019...

John Dory - 39 Bruce - 38 Clay - 33 Floyd - 28 Branch - 20

And as of 1999...

John Dory - 19 Spruce - 18 Clay - 13 Floyd - 8 Branch - 2 months

ALSO lets not forget the fact that troll age stages are different from humans', a 2 month old is singing and dancing in a boyband. They tend to mature past their actual age really quickly.

(i know these are country trolls, but the idea is still there. as soon as they pop out the egg, trolls are basically toddlers)

And I've tried to keep my theory compliant with what the wikia says (like how Clay's 1999 self is referred to as a teenager, therefore i made him 13) because i believe theyre mostly right. however. i also believe the movie takes place in 2019, not 2023. even if that wasnt the intention of dreamworks, they wrote in the script that its been 20 years since 1999... that can literally only be 2019 lol.

But if we want to imagine it takes place in 2023, heres age hcs for that too:

John Dory - 43 Bruce - 42 Clay - 37 Floyd - 32 Branch - 24

Btw this means, in my hc, Poppy is 19 in 2019 and 23 in 2023, as is implied in the wiki. Which makes sense to me, because Branch is obviously older than her by at least a year. With my hc that Bruce and JD are only a year apart (again, in compliance with the wikia that claims JD was a teenager in 1999 and therefore not 20 like i want him to be. and making the "heart throb" not a minor bc thats weird to me) the moment where Poppy calls JD the "old one" but later fawns over Bruce is made extra funny when the two of them are so close in age.

But i want to say for the millionth time so nobody gets confused bc of all these numbers: I THINK BAND TOGETHER TAKES PLACE IN 2019!!! not 2023. And don't even ask about how the first movie truly fits into this, I DONT KNOW, they definitely did not fully think through a trilogy in 2016. Some things are just a product of when they came out and thats ok.

[renzieluvsvt]

imperfect love

pairing: ex!chan x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff, smut

word count: 2k (got longer than i wanted-)

summary: after breaking up with your boyfriend because of misunderstandings, he shows up at your apartment after midnight leading to the night you had been missing.

warnings: parental issues, nipple sucking, spitting (on the palm tho), nicknames (like baby, babygirl, sweetheart etc), sex talk [if missed out anything then please lemme know !!]

a/n: tysm anon for this request !! i really really enjoyed writing this as i have always been into such plots👀

no proofread +if you really wanna enjoy the smut then good for yall ive made a distinguishable divider for the smut so hope y'all enjoy !! love yall<333

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it had been nine months since your breakup yet you couldn't be used to the empty house after he moved out. as you were lost in your thoughts wondering what went wrong and made him quit, you were interrupted by a knock at the door that startled you. you looked up at the clock which read 02:36 am, you didn't have track of the time after you were reminiscing the good old days with your, well now, ex-lover. there was another, yet more desperate knock on the door but this time you heard your name being called out too. you ran to the door and opened it to just be welcomed by your ex-boyfriend, lee chan.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

the two of you had known each other since the middle school then started dating in the first year after he asked you out saying that he had been liking you for a year. things went pretty well. the both of you got into the same college which made the both of you to decide to share an apartment that would help you both in many ways from rent to spending more time with each other. it was like a dream to have a person like him as your boyfriend, so loving, so caring&funny and so hot especially in bed.

the both of you would study together after the classes and fuck each other at night. it went on for about the first two years of uni. the both of you were living the best life but thats what you thought. in the third year, you started changing. probably due to the stress of studies because of how tough it was getting. chan was born as a sports genius. he was into sports, never attended much of the classes and barely studied. but luckily he used to pass the examinations, not with the best marks but good enough to not make him fail. but here you were being studious to reach the dreams that you had for yourself. acing every exam was your goal.

as studies got harder, the late night fucking sessions with your roomie boyfriend turned into late night study sessions. the romantic dates were getting lesser month by month and thats when the both of you had an argument about how he got less attention and how he wasnt understanding the importance of exams to you. thats when you broke up with him and his ego packing his bag to leave the apartment you had found for the two of you.

the both of you finished the third year your uni. it was now the final year and you had been busy preparing for it. studying after break up was hard and paying attention to his sports was hard for him too. but you let things go with flow to the direction where you guys wont be together, ever by never approaching him and never letting him approach you until now.

.⋆｡⋆☂˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆.

as you opened the door, he smiled after seeing your face after such a long time. "y/-", he called you name again under his breath before you cut him off.

"why are you here?" his smile disappeared after listening to the tone of yours. "why are you really here cha-"

"i missed you y/n, please get back to me y/n", he said with a crack in his voice. but you didn't care about it. you scoffed at his words before you said, "why? is it because you want to get back into the apartment?"

chan was confused with the words that you were shooting at him directly, too harshly. he frowned back at you with confusion as his eyes were welled up wity tears as he couldn't understand what made you turn into such a person.

"why are you really here chan? why are you creating such a n-nuisance at such an unholy hour?", you said with not much feelings but bitterness that was there in your heart. he kept on staring at you with tears, patiently listening to the shot you were blabbering until you pressed his button. you scoffed again and continued your sentence, "or is it because you just want sex from me?"

that was when it was enough for chan. he pushed you into your apartment, making you yelp. he locked the door as you continued to look at his back.

"y/n? what the fuck is wrong with you? are you even aware of what you are saying? did you even think before you spoke those wor-", he yelled at you while tears running down his face. before you cut him off again. "YESS CHAN YESS", you stunned him.

"listen, give me this one last chance to clarify what i really meant that night", he begged with tears still running down his face. you wiped off the tears that were rolling down on your face. "sure then, try changing my mind", you said with a firm tone to act strong but from the inside, you were hoping it had a good reason for you to stop resenting him to make you feel like an object that he used just for his pleasure.

he sat down on one of the couches in the living room while you stayed there standing. he started off by telling how he had been facing parental issues after his parents decided to part their ways, making them fight over chan even more. after a month of his father winning the custody over him, he became a drunkard and neglected his duty as the father. to the point where he refused to pay for his uni fees and his soccer training fees, making him look for part time.

you were stunned listening to this part of his life. you couldn't believe how much he had been going through.

when you asked him why he never told you about this, he simply said that he didn't want to bother you as you were pressured about the exams already. you cried to his words as it made sense.

you realised how occupied you were to fulfil your dreams and greed to ace every exam that you completely neglected your boyfriend. the worse, you misunderstood the man who had been worrying and caring about you. the resentment for chan vanished but was replaced by the hatred for yourself.

out of guilt and regret, you stand there crying vocally. chan stood and tried to calm you down as you kept on apologising to him, voice muffled by the hands that were covering your face. "im so sorry c-chan, im soo sorry chan", you kept on repeating even after he hugged you tight, your head on his chest.

"its okay y/n, i shouldn't have acted in that way that ni-" "no chan", you cut him off. this time you hugged him while on your toes to reach his height. "chan, im sorry for not paying attention to you. sorry for being too drawn in myself that i could never be that girlfriend you deserve", you said as you held him tight as if trying to make up for the time you both were apart, missing each other's confort and warmth.

"but listen", you said as you parted from the hug. you hesitated before saying that you had on you mind. "what is it dear?", he said in his sweet voice while cupping your face to make you look up at him. but you still had your eyes looking at the ground. "um channie", you continued. "hmm im here sweetheart", you hated the timing he was using these nicknames, making you really rethink what you were about to say. but you did.

"channie, i would understand if you want to still part your ways from me. i have been bad. never paid attention to you, even made you move out of our shared apartment at night and surely alot more. i will under-", before you could continue he stopped you with a kiss.

his broad hands cupping your face, deepening the kiss while his eyes are shut. soon you give in too, give into the passionate kiss that said alot even without the usage of words. you could still understand the love that existed between the two of you even after the things that happened.

he broke the kiss to look into your eyes, "y/n, i have loved you and will keep loving you. i cant even imagine myself without you. please dont even talk about something like this, okay?", he said with a smile. soon, his eyes kept on looking between your eyes and yours lips. this time you kissed him, desperately. you had been missing him, especially after the break up.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

he understood your body language and led you to your bedroom without breaking the kiss. he laid you down and within a second, all of your clothings were thrown around in the room while his body was over yours. kissing you, deep and hard while your hands ran through his hair deepening the kiss even more. the two of you couldn't get enough of each other. he soon broke the kiss to just have his lips latch over your neck, kissing it down. "mine, mine, mine", he said while marking your neck, while playing with your tits, while sucking on to it.

he kept on repeating until he went dangerously low, reaching your wet cunt. "mine", he said again but with a smirk this time as he locked his eyes with you. lord, you swore you could have come there itself. but you were in for a longer night.

he got onto his knees to bury his face into your pussy, drawing a gasp from you. you could feel him smile. he soon gave it a lick then started sucking onto your clit. "fuc- lord", you moaned as you arched your back in pleasure. he looked up at yoir figure that was enjoying what he was doing. he spread your legs wider and suck harder and soon started teasing your hole.

you fucking hated how you were so transparent about how good he made you feel. "baby let it out, tell me how you feel", he said. "fuck you chan, you are so good", you said. with a smirk he started off with his sinful acts to draw the most sinful sounds at an unholy hour.

you squeezed your tits and grabbed his hair as he ate you out, soon letting you come all over his face. you were a panting mess but you could feel two of long and slender fingers enter you with no mercy. "aah- om- fuck chan", you moaned, loud enough for y'all to have the neighbours here and complain but did you care about it? nope. who would and who could when your partner was making you live in heaven right now.

"you like that baby? did you miss my fingers fucking you like this?", he said with a dominating voice while scissoring out your tight pussy that hadn't been fucked by his thick cock since you dont know when. all you could reply with was a whimpering. "words babygirl", he said while slapping your pussy hard. "mm- yes i missed you so much chan! i missed getting fucked by you chan, ah-" he went on to finger fuck you even after you reached your high to help you come down from the heavy orgasm.

you saw him suck his fingers clean and brought his palm to your face. "spit", you did as he commanded. he brought his palm to rub his already leaking cock, making you clench on nothing. "be a good girl for me okay sweetheart?" you nodded in response. "words baby", he said hitting your sensitive clit with his hard thick cock. "mm yes channie, will take all of you. fuck me like you want channie, need you", you were literally a begging mess for the cock that had been fucking you the best.

he brought both his arms at each side of your head and kissed you on your forehead, "i missed you y/n." you kissed him on the lips in response. then his cock slowly entered you, making you whimper and enjoying the pleasure with your eyes shut. he watched you and your pussy taking him so well. after he entered you completely, he waited for you to adjust to it because he knew it too that he was big and thick enough to break aprat without any preparation. after you gave him a sign, he slowly started thrusting in you and soon he was fucking you senseless. the room being filled with the sex air, your moans, his groans and the sound of skins clapping.

"you missed this baby? my cock buried in your pussy? missed my cock fucking you this hard, huh?", he said many more things that you couldnt catch on because you were in your pleasure and focussing on reaching your high.

"fuck-", you screamed when you felt his fingers rub your hard clit. he loved watching you squirm under him. all for him. "chan- ah- fu- fuck", you came with a loud moan. not soon after he came undone.

but he stayed in you for a while more. the both of you smiled at each other sleepishly after the heavy orgasms you both had.

"i love you", you said. "i love you too and more", he said and kisses you on your lips. "now lets get you cleaned up baby", he said to which you protested by hugging him tight suffocating yourself from the heavy body over you. but you missed this. you missed chan.

"i'll treat you better channie, i love you", you said. no one could keep you two apart, not even the misunderstandings. you two were meant to stay together, forever.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

[stitchwraith-stingers]

(some-what of) an analysis on patty possom(?)

inspired by this post on the PE-AZ yes this episode is my fave yes i unironically love patty yes i was a fnaf kid yes i am utterly deranged

some of these r incoherent because its midnight and i wanna post this as fast as possible before i go to bed and wake up at the crack at dawn

yayyy patty ^_^

one of the first things ive noticed post becoming alive like the next frankeinstine is that her eye wasnt fixed by the mechanics, which as ill discuss later imply a sort of negligence (? i think) to the properly, i however dgaf and like to interperate this as her having a lazy eye <3

she seems to be a genuially nice person!!!! um . i dont know how to continue this paragrapth pretend theres something here thats interesting

imagine being born into the world and already having a dreadful fear of being abandoned. crazy, mustve impacted her very hard

though this probably means it gave her fake memories or she was already sorta vaugely away of whats happening?? like psudo sentient?? if that makes sense, how the hell do you know this girl, you havent BEEN to the devils sacrament

the way she goes about it and the ending shows that she has no clue on how to socialize or their cues at all, or just cuz of the pov its intentionally shown as more creepy (which it probably is, you could hear her go "where r u going :(" in a sad tone), shes a massive werido and i love her for that

point is, shes nice but has no idea how to say "nooo dont leave me haha" normally cuz she just appeared 2 seconds ago with no idea of proper communication, does that make sense..... help

heres the thing i love about this the most, shes at the end of the ep shes seen dragging background character #47 in the same tone of voice and hes seen uncomfortable. PAN TO THE NEXT SLIDE IN WHICH THEY SEEM OK IN THEIR PRESENCE

LIKE . THE GUY JUST ACCEPTS HER HAND TO HOLD WHEN SHES SHOCKED..... THEY R BESTIES AND IM TIRED OF PPL OVERLOOKING IT, and the fact that i dont think we get to see him again (cuz they couldnt fit him anywhere in the background? i think) makes it better for me, balding old guy notices furry twice his size scared of being left alone so he decides to stay here just for her.... MANNN

the general area

lets see, were right off the bat were introduced to a good few places, the fun tunnels, the game zone, a claw machine thats rigged, the place with the signature snack which i wont go over because thats kinda of its own gag but its sticky and probably unhealthy, and the main stage

i assume the fun tunnels are made with a holograpthic effect inuniverse, and i think theres some LED lights in there to make it glow, i was going to say its polyethylene plastic but i dont think that exists google stock photos lied to me, also not related but it looks like a horrible spray paint job was done on this thing lol

also acording to the lyrics theres supposed to be 3 more members, a raccoon, cat and turtle . i dont think we see craggle in photo though rip (if theyre not a sphyinx ill be dissapointed), tyrone seems to have a 60's? aesthetic going on, rascal has a punk aesthetic going on and patty has a more modern aesthetic ? i think, the spiked collar is throwing me off

from winns dialouge in the start implying that they havent been here in a good while ("when i was little" ur in 5th grade) and the fact that their instruments are still there, then this was probably a recent desicion, or atleast long enough for a 10 y/o that hasnt been here in awhile to be upset by this and for patty to be immediatly spawned in with abandonment issues

along with a rigged claw machine and the snack i think it implies that the people over there who own this establishment are probably really cheap, and the fact that the PRAMBY snack is really sticky is definatly going to cause some health issues down the line, something something fazbear entertainment

oh and also, theres like a split second frame where this shows up, obviously its just there as a morbid joke but atleast it shows us this establishment is atleast old enough to have someones decaying body be bone by now, which after writing that makes me sound stupid because skeletonization might not take as long as i thought it would ("3 weeks to several years" depending on the surroundings)

whoever was there seemed to have been stuck for 25 days at least and has gone undetected, which means this place is linked to one unsolved missing persons case and they dont have a clue (most likely), also theres ballpit balls inside this thing i fucking guess?? theres no actual ballpit in the place idk what this kid was doing

i have tried to make up a map of how the place looks but im always bad with rooms ? and i had to take a fewwww small creative liberties with this cuz i couldnt figure out where theyd be but close enough👍👍

[escaronarts]

ETSY STORE  II  FACEBOOK  II  INSTAGRAM  II  ESCARONARTS

For SALE HERE! (Website)

Or HERE! (Etsy)

With the strenght of a fiery stallion and soul of a colibri you will never be able to tame this mighty beast. But if he deem you worthy theres no limits of what the two of you can acomplish.

In the world were Colibris kind roam free people adore and co-exist with them and nature. In this world birds are sacred. Birds, you say. Why birds? Well, let me explain. I told you people there co-exist with nature, but that wasnt always the case. Once they kept polluting the planet to the very extent in wich all the birds fell from the sky and died. They knew it was happening but they couldnt hinder it, wouldnt change. And then one day there were no more birds, not a single one. That was the harsh reality and a very real wake-up call for humanity. You might think it was then to late for anything to be done at all, but the people did manage to turn things around, and today they live in harmony with their planet, caring for it dearly. However, sadly, the birds never returned. But, you say, what has this to do with Colibri and the horses? You see, one day a horse was born that didnt look like the traditional kind and absolutely not like its brown parents. The foal was jet black with the softest feathers around his neck and tail. It was quite perplexing. And it didnt stop there, more and more foals were born different. Browns and grays, whites and multicolored ones of all variations. And then people realized, the horses reminded of different bird species! Truth was, the horses had taken the spirits of the birds into their hearts to carry and protect. And this is how they still exist, two souls in one body. One day the birds might be able to return to the world in own bodies again, to once more travel the skies and sing their songs. But until then the horses will keep safeguarding their spirits, and the humans will keep doing their best to restore the planet in wait and hope of that time to come.

*****

MADE: They come to me when they want to be given form, whisper in my mind who they want to be, show me glimpses and let me work. Im sure I cant create their exact images but I try my best. When I start I never know what will be in the end, but I trust the process, I trust them, and it hasnt failed me yet. I believe these beings exist, even if we in our physical realm cannot see. And I believe they are here for a reason, for us, to help, inspire, move, awaken, and to the ones adopting them specifically - connect, a bond thats meant to be. I believe, do you?

Colibri is a traditionally handmade, original, unique and one of a kind artwork made entirely by me. His face is first sculpted in super sculpey, that I later casted in resin for durability and painted carefully with acrylics. His body is made of high quality fauxfur that Ive designed, trimmed and sewn over a sturdy wire and batting frame together with a blend of feathers (seen in mane and tail). He is fully posable in both neck, tail and legs. However, as with all of my creations he is an artwork and not intended as a toy for kids. Lots and lots of hours, effort and soul went into this guy, to give him his physical form, and there will never be another one like him.

COLIBRI SIZE; Height: 11.8 inches (30cm) Length: 12.6 inches (32cm)

© 2023 Linda Escaron Lundqvist - all rights reserved

[nightmaredxydreams]

we've been seeing transramcoa shit and we need to make a public vent about it so people who identify as transramcoa or are considering it won't.

major tw. this goes into detail about csa, deeply.

ok so, im the host. i never knew i went through ramcoa until about a couple years ago, even with clues and shit. i only found out after i met someone else who did and i could relate to their story. so i did research on ramcoa and yep, i fit it in just about every way possible. i literally checked off every box on some list of signs youre a ramcoa survivor. then i realized... i had been programmed for whatever reaction the handler wanted, whatever they wanted me to do, i felt like i was a game and they were the player. i was always told "youre so naive and dumb" and finding out i was a ramcoa survivor made me feel even more naive and dumb. like i was to blame. i felt like if i wasnt so naive and dumb, i wouldnt have been programmed. and the more i found out about ramcoa, the more i discovered the programmed alters. and thats when the persecutory voice in my head got worse. i felt like i was faking ramcoa, faking DID and faking trauma entirely. i felt like i wanted it to be cool or as an excuse for me being "born broken and worthless" with all my trauma responses i didnt even remember the trauma to have. my mental health tanked severely. i was covered in cuts, suicidal, attempted many times, and was reaching out for validation in places i shouldnt have. i drove friends away who couldnt deal with my constant heavy venting. i felt like i was faking or had too much baggage to deserve a friend. i felt like i deserved ramcoa when i believed it happened to me. i became more insecure about my body (this went with the denial- id think i was too ugly to be sex trafficked and i thought i made it all up to be "cool" and "not a virgin" since the body is disabled and cant really have sex) and more hypersexual than ever. when i found out i survived ramcoa, i either felt like it didn't really happen to me and like i was faking or i deserved it when i thought it happened. most of the time i thought it didnt, because your brain doesnt want you to know you have that trauma especially if you have DID. your brain doesnt even want you to know you have DID. if you are a real ramcoa survivor you will feel severe denial it happened and... broken for no reason. like you never went through anything severe so why are you this way? then you deal with the realization it happened and you feel used, dirty, dumb, like a game or a robot, not a real human. trust me, you dont want to be a ramcoa survivor. is that not enough for you? well heres more on how the sex trafficking affected my body and relationships...

i was hypersexual ever since i can remember. i was a three year old child and acting out sexual touching with dolls and imaginary friends. i was only three years old and had shame that i did it, even though nobody knew i did it. i was so developmentally disabled i couldnt put real sentences together or communicate, yet i felt shame for sexually touching dolls and imaginary friends. living my life not knowing i was sexually abused and asked how i discovered my sexuality, i answered with "ive always liked girls sexually ever since i could remember" and had to have it pointed out to me thats not normal and its a sign of sexual abuse. i always thought it was a normal kid thing to be sexual that little. wanting answers as to who violated me when i was so little, i asked the people who lived with me at the time who answered with "maybe it was your step grandfather. you were never alone alone with him so it had to have been brief touches that were a second" when im alone in almost all my memories from when i was little. after getting told "well its maaayyybe him but it cooouuuld be your cousin since she sexually abused you when you were older" and relying completely on external validation to validate what was on my inside, i flip flopped around with it and some people thought my inconsistency about trauma was me lying when i truly didnt know what happened. i lost friends and was doubted by people when i was desperately seeking validation. now to what it did to my body...

i have bladder issues from being sexually touched causing me to have utis. i have uti like pain almost every time i pee. ive been raped with plastic (almost sharp) objects and feel sharp pains in my somatic flashbacks to being raped. i will literally be doing nothing and boom, i feel a sharp pain down there. my vagina rejects tampons or really anything that goes inside it. i feel like someone stuck something up my ass every time i get done taking a shit. i have sudden nausea that doesnt feel like it belongs to me out of nowhere. i have been fucked so much my body is fucked up too. i want hugs, i love affection and it makes me feel important and safe, but i feel like my body is too violated to be loved and i get anyone who touches me dirty and they should feel ashamed for hugging me and i should feel ashamed for letting them.

you don't want this severe mental pain. you dont wanna be like me. you don't want this life. and if you do, you're fucking sick. fuck you.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

ok putting my saiki k pony ideas here, mostly so i can maybe draw them someday, but also i put so much thought into these ideas and i want everyone to see them

tried to do EVERY character

kusuo- alicorn, no cutie mark

hides his wings under clothes and pretends he doesnt have them, would rather hide his horn but cant and just pretends he doesnt have much magic instead

why does he not have a cutie mark, you may ask?? because he hasnt accepted his quirks+powers as a part of himself.. his special talent is probably helping people but he thinks he only does that because the magic he has makes him basically obligated (its not true ur just a good person!!)

nobody really calls him out on constantly wearing clothes with so much coverage because they think hes just insecure about being a blank flank so late in life (kinda true, but it defeats the point if everyone KNOWS..)

will he ever get his cutie mark?? um.. i dont know.. maybe ?? definitely not in his high school years

chiyo- unicorn, baking cutie mark but idk what specifically, maybe a heart shaped chocolate like the one she made for kaido

specialty magic for tracking, she was a late bloomer with her cutie mark because she discovered her tracking talent really young and thought that had to do with her special talent for a longgg time

shun- pegasus, black feathers cutie mark

underdeveloped wings (like scootaloo obvi)

convinced hes just a late bloomer but hes almost an adult and still cant fly (never will but he doesnt know that)

gets these cool wing extensions that allow him to glide but still not fly

tells people his cutie mark is his "jet black wings" but its actually writing quills

riki- earth pony, heart shaped ramen bowl cutie mark ?? idfk what his special talent is i just think he has a lotta love in him..

HUGE stallion.. HUGE..

aren- a kirin..

has a huge scar where a cutie mark would be on a pony in the shape of an exclamation point

used to let his anger free when he was a delinquent and when he transferred, he was pretty self deprecating about his control of himself but he actually has a crazy amount of self control..

chisato- pegasus, hammer cutie mark maybe ?

almost made her an earth pony cuz of the brute strength thing but i like this better

got her cutie mark REALLY late because she was absolutely convinced her special talent had to do with food, and when she got it while doing a job she was like "WORKING IS MY SPECIAL TALENT??" but it wasnt about the job, shes just really strong, hardworking, and adaptable

kokomi- zebra, golden heart cutie mark

couldnt decide if she was a crystal pony or a zebra, decided on zebra

her mark LITERALLY seems to glow golden light, it doesnt actually but.. it really seems that way

ik her being a zebra may not sound like it makes sense because zecora got a bunch of NEGATIVE attention, but HEAR me out okok.. this pony au would be in a modern setting with more diversity and people would focus less on her being a zebra and more on her being beautiful and having such a unique pattern..

zecora is the only zebra we see in mlp so theres no reason to think other zebras couldnt have blue hair, esp in the era of saikis mind control (idk how that would tie into this universe cuz ponies already have crazy colors but shhh) so her hair is prob blue with dark and light stripey highlights

mikoto- griffon

ik she might make more sense as a unicorn but her fortune telling strikes me as more of an.. outside magic ?? like.. she was born with the ability, but its not a physical magical power, its like pinkies pinkie sense!!

so yea i like her as a griffon, its unique and i like the idea of her feathers having a unique pattern around her eyes thats akin to gyaru makeup (see: gilda but make it gyaru esque)

and yes she can still be colorful, we see colorful griffons in the late seasons of mlp

metori- a crystal pony, diamond ring cutie mark

tells people thats his cutie mark because its expensive and hes rich as hell but his special talent is actually MAKING jewelry..

i like the idea of him lying about his special talent so i had to think of something that he could say its cuz hes rich.. i kinda wanted his talent to be baking for some reason but i couldnt think of how that would work

reita- earth pony, cutie mark is like a cartoon-like ghost surrounded by a scary purple and black aura

was gonna make his mark something more meaningful but i think its funny if people see it and are immediately scared of him but literally all it means is like he SPEAKS to ghosts, like in the most normal way possible

and same thing as miko, he doesnt need to be a unicorn cuz his powers are different from unicorn magic..

touma- unicorn, magnifying glass over a thought bubble cutie mark

the mark is hard to explain but tell me u get me when i say its because hes got stupidly good detective skills and can tell what people are thinking

jokes around and manages to convince people he has crazy magic and his cutie mark actually means he can read minds but he actually isnt very good at unicorn magic at all

kineshi- is a changeling..

why ?? because he just is!! doesnt it make sense for him to be a creature that feeds off of making other people feel happiness and love ? it totally makes sense

honorable mentions 😛

saikis parents are both earth ponies, and i have no idea what their cutie marks would be but heres some silly ideas: kurumi has a cradle cutie mark (meant to be a mama😋) and kuniharu has a boot and he tells people that it's symbolism for like hard work but people know hes lying and think it means hes a boot licker METAPHORICALLY, which is almost right but.. it means literally

kusuke is an earth pony and his telepathy canceler is probably shaped like a unicorn horn in this universe hehe, and his cutie mark is maybe like a microscope or something ? hes just a mad scientist idk

btw chono in this au would def be like trixie lulamoon if u know what im saying.. he would be a unicorn but his special talent is STAGE magic and his horn doesnt do anything☠️

satou prob has that little hourglass cutie mark thats really common in background characters for animation purposes, idk what his special talent is but that would be really funny

[hockeygossipdaily]

https://www.tumblr.com/hockeygossipdaily/769634872312643584/since-those-here-are-talking-about-diversities

nordic anon is onto something. As a Swede Ive noticed patterns of my fellow countrymen regarding their keenness for ethic women, but i didnt know if it was ok to point out since im not African American Spanish, Middle eastern etc. Anon explained it well for the most part thats how it is here in Sweden too except since everyone here is blond blue eyes so its actually an accomplishment if a guy finds an ethnic woman as a partner even if its just a hookup

Are you awarwe UPK was hooking up with a mixed girl. Model. European Born, i think german? I just remember english wasnt her primary language and she had an accent. He may still be following her not sure. Nico followed her briefly but unfollowed and i never saw her follow him back. This was early last year.

I didn’t know that 👀

[wewerebornsextuplets]

what would kenny say if he could see his family now? would he be happy at how far his daughter has come? would he feel pity for his wife, seeing how grief has changed her? would he still wish for his family to be together? (<- insane)

this ask is absolutely diabolical. i cannot thank you enough for giving me a chance to talk about kenny more in-depth. unfortunately most of this ended up being context for how he thinks + a bit of further exposition on mayumis relationship with her parents [since family is a big deal to kenny and well. yknow], so the actual answers are a bit further down but i hope this is still at least a little illuminating 👼

one thing thats important to know about kenny for this to make sense, is that he has some very strong values and beliefs surrounding the idea of family. while i wouldnt exactly describe these ideals as him being "family-oriented" in the traditional sense, its more like... okay. you know how older people, usually in their 50s and 60s, all seem to be capable of talking at length about That One Relative they despise, how they wish they could have nothing to do with them, because nothing good ever comes of it, but then they end their diatribe by going "well, they're still family, so i love them"? kenny's like that, hes committed to family to a fault. obviously there are still things that he would consider as going "too far" or irreconcilable when it comes tothis, but his tolerance for that is much higher than it probably should be.

to this point, i think even when he was still alive, he could tell that tears were beginning to form in the family dynamic that weren't solely caused by his inevitable passing. its not something ive discussed much here, but mayumi actually wasnt on very good terms with her parents before kenny got sick; she left home and started her career as a gravure model when she was 20 as a means of "sticking it" to her parents' more traditional wishes, and she was unhappy when she was living with them, but never actually did the work to figure out What was so wrong with the situation. as such, when kiru was born some years later, and she started to settle into life with kenny, she began to recontextualize her dissatisfaction with her parents' treatment of her as her just being a bratty teen. so, when kenny got sick, and she decided their best bet financially would be to move in with them, kenny agreed, though he viewed it as something of a necessary annoyance because hey, they're family.

even still, in the last year or so before he passed, the effects of living in the family home again paired with the inevitable realization that kenny was Definitely Gonna Die were becoming more and more apparent, primarily through how mayumi acted towards him and to kiru. he could tell she wasnt taking the process lightly at all, but part of him hoped that after his passing, she would be able to move on and mayumi, kiru, and her parents would be able to continue on as a family unit without him. he thought the bitterness between them and the cycle of mistreatment was just something theyd have to "work through" or "get over" because theyre Supposed to be close, though i dont think he ever said his out loud.

so, i think if kenny were to see the family structure now with full context, he would be pretty upset and confused that things didnt go quite as he'd hoped. i dont think he would blame them for going no-contact after the incident at christmas, but he would certainly be unhappy with the fact that things reached that point in the first place. there's a lot that he wished could have happened differently [esp. once kiru became an adult and left to live on her own, as well as some of the decisions made in the months following his death], though he was quite even-tempered + logical when need be, so i dont think he would really be able to find it in him to stay angry at either party for very long [though he'd certainly be mad about the concussion. physical harm is one of the aforementioned "okay even i think this is too much" bars for him wrt familial conflict, even though mayumi herself was also very freaked out by herself in this instance]

with mayumi as a person, more than anything i think he would just be very sad about her resignation to a life of isolation now that he's gone; he'd hoped that theyd be able to "get over" their differences and become closer now that circumstances were easier for them with him gone. but again, i dont think kenny really understood the full breadth of the emotional abuse mayumi endured, especially since mayumi herself never really came to grips with it. and having never endured that himself, he isnt able to wrap his head around the fact that its the sort of thing there isnt ever any "getting over". its a very naive take on family conflict, borne out of his own inability to really understand incompatibility in this sense + familial abuse due to his lack of experience with it. this same confusion and upset also applies to how things shook out with mayumi and kiru, though i think he was more understanding in this case since there was a physical aspect to it. but past that he just wishes mayumi could find it in herself to move on and meet new people, that she might be able to be happy again in spite of all of this. its a strange mix of pity, confusion and a tinge of anger.

as for kiru though... theres no question that kenny would be immensely proud of the person she is today. to put things into perspective here, he was born and raised on chichijima, and sickness aside, only ever left for long periods of time when he was attending college. he regards this as being the most difficult thing he ever had to do, and its a decision HE made! so for kiru, who went through so much more than that and made the move at a much younger age than him, to STILL come out on top with a doctorate and a nice job? that on its own is enough of a feat in his eyes. but past that i think he would also be very proud of the kind of person she is, since she really is just such a sweetheart and is incredibly level-headed. he'd be very very happy that she managed to do so well for herself even after all that went on, and that she managed to find such a wonderful group of friends who love her [joblessness aside. though i dont think he'd really gaf if we're being honest]... and furthermore i can see him really liking her and keiko as a couple HEHE

furthermore, i imagine kenny would be pretty happy that kiru at least stayed in contact with SOME family on her mom's side, since again, hes still quite family oriented in a strange roundabout way. he would definitely be confused as to why it was yanagida of all people, since they didnt visit one another very frequently before the move and always seemed to be bickering with each other After they moved, but hes happy nonetheless