#and then. then im done<-person who will not be done

[mythalism]

You seem to be both a solavellan and mythal fan so maybe I won’t get shot for this question lol

Veilguard was my first game. I kept default settings, which meant solavellan world state.

I genuinely wonder: what makes people think Solas loves Lavellan? Or that if being with Mythal possible, he still would choose Lavellan?

He is so clearly not over Mythal. Last game is filled with references to their connection, she herself confirms that both still love each other. He is very protective of her while arguing with Elgarnan. Statues of them everywhere, him painting and playing songs about her, his very own room having statues of Mythal… In the end he discloses he does it all for her, refuses to stop after Lavellan’s appeals, and only does so after Mythal shows up.

In comparison, Solas describes what he had with Lavellan as “entanglement he selfishly grow close to” he both regrets and cherishes. Most of the romance is carried on Inquisitor’s shoulders, as she both explicitly tells what he means to her, reaches out to him and ultimately shares his burden of atonement.

I couldn’t understand why this ship was so popular, so I watched solavellan romance in DAI. And while it was beautifully done, having the context of Veilguard, I just keep seeing Mythal in every “we shouldn’t”/his face after balcony kiss/ultimately abandoning her in the end. It feels almost unfair and cruel for him to enter another relationship while his heart isn’t free. And to visit Lavellan’s dreams afterwards

What am I missing?

a lot of people would shoot you for this. but dont worry i am not one of them. be careful out there tho

i think the first thing i would say is that instead of watching a video, you would need to do play a full solavellan playthrough of the game if you do want to genuinely understand the relationship and why it is so beloved. im not sure which compilation you watched, but even one that includes all their conversations (rather than just the cutscenes, of which there are very few) cannot do the relationship justice. so much of understanding solas as a character and how he loves people, by extension, is wrapped up in how he reacts to the world at large, its people, its history, its institutions, and its metaphysics. assuming you're new to DA and wouldn't know this, solas's romance in inquisition is the shortest, most sparse romance in the game, and was added later in development. as a result, much of his essential characterization happens outside the bounds of romance content, but still adds deeper meaning, context, and depth to the relationship. even in terms of romance specific content, some of my favorite content occurs in banter that probably was not included in the video you watched. the solas romance is less a standalone love story, in the way many of the romances are, and more of a big juicy delicious cherry on top that helps you better understand the overall dragon age solas plot/cake you're eating.

theres a couple non-romance specific scenes that shed significant light on solas & mythal's dynamic from his perspective that i am not sure if you have seen and honestly i wouldnt recommend watching them because, again, i think you should just play inquisition and experience them in the proper context. but solas's companion personal quest is directly about his corruption at the hands of mythal, though we didn't know that until veilguard came out and contextualized it. and this quest pretty explicitly demonstrates how he feels about what she did to him: rage, beyond forgiveness, deserving of death. he also comments on her at the temple of mythal, and his comments are mostly neutral but verging on judgemental, and do illuminate that while he may have loved her, he certainly did not trust her. it is he who first clarifies that she was a goddess of vengeance, rather than justice. which i cant think about too long or else i'll get angry that they ret-conned it to benevolence -> retribution or whatever the fuck and erased the anders/justice/vengeance parallel... anyway

but i think more telling is his absolute refusal to drink from the well if asked, and most telling; how he fears for an inquisitor who drank.

he specifically calls mythal dangerous, arrogant, and fickle, absolutely refuses to submit to her will once again via the drinking of the well, and begs an inquisitor he loves not to do the same lest she suffer the same fate. he loves mythal, of course, but he also fears her. he is critical of her behavior and wary of her motivations. his love for her exists alongside his recognition of what she was.

another fairly vital bit of information is how according to trespasser (cole banter), solas used to wear mythal vallaslin until he burnt it off his own face when he developed his vallaslin removal spell. its how he got the little scar above his eyebrow. meaning, if vallaslin were slave markings, that solas was effectively enslaved to her. this is... pretty important context, obviously. but we never find out what it might have been like for him. veilguard.... didnt forget but rather deliberately ignored this because it wasnt willing to interrogate the issue of slavery which had been vital to solas as the leader of a slave rebellion. ugh. anyway.

this leads into my next point which is that veilguard really drastically changes solas's motivations to be far more mythal-centric than what was set up in inquisition/trespasser. we always knew something was up with them, and people always wondered if they might have been lovers, but veilguard goes in on this idea in a way that many people would actually call out-of-character compared to how he behaves in inquisition. veilguard itself though does present their relationship as rather complex though, in my opinion its one of the best parts of the game. the two moments that i chew on most frequently are the letter from felassan in mythal's weird little dragon pit that reveals how he made that island for her but locked it away when she was killed. and my ultimate fave is how she reveals that in the literal thousands of years she has been sitting there alone since her murder, many of which he was alive and fighting a rebellion partly in her name, and in the 12 years since he woke up from uthenera, he never went to visit her. not once. its giving jane eyre and i fucking love it. in this same conversation, she also says that when he killed flemeth, he wept. this, i think, is the crux of how he feels about her. he can barely look at her. he resents her. he will use her like he did anyone else. he loves her. he feels lost without her. he will never forgive her. he misses her. all of these things are true at once, and mythal seems to feel similarly; she loathes him. she understands him better than anyone. she resents him for betraying her and abandoning her. she calls him a pathetic little crybaby pussy ass bitch. she loves him.

i dont think anything you said in your message is necessarily wrong. i do think he loves mythal still. i think he always will. i think mythal is valid when she says that they have a bond that no one will ever understand. i agree he is protective over her. i also interpret their relationship as romantic though a lot of people do not. i just love drama. but i think you are misinterpreting his reluctance to be with lavellan as coming from his attachment to mythal as a person, rather than his attachment to his duty to what mythal represents - the world he ruined, everything he's ever done wrong. to say that solas would actually consciously choose mythal over lavellan if they were the final two contestants on the bachelorette is honestly, absurd. sorry. because actually he would choose neither, he would dramatically let the rose fall to the ground and run off to restore the elven people while chris hansen (felassan) dramatically runs after him. both women are secondary to him when it comes to the good of the entire world, and fixing what he broke. he has had plenty of moments to choose mythal and run away with her if he wanted. he has literally had her bertha-ing out in his crossroads attic for 10 years. he also literally does kill her via flemeth. which isnt to say that he wouldn't kill lavellan if forced to, i think he would. but the point here is that its not mythal vs. lavellan. its mythal vs. the world, and lavellan vs. the world. he should have chosen the world over mythal. he didnt. he created the blight instead. he destroyed everything. he cannot make the same mistake again, so he will choose the world every. single. time.

regardless, every time solas turns away from lavellan in the romance, he is not thinking "i wish you were her". he is thinking "if i do this to you, i have become her". prioritizing his own desires over the good of the world, stringing her along, using her as a tool to do his bidding (getting the orb back), are all things mythal did to him. he told her he would follow her anywhere. and when he begins to realize that lavellan would follow him anywhere (as she says in veilguard), he freaks out and has to end it. he knows he will have to continue to kill and cause destruction to bring his world back, so if he did allow her to join him in walking the dinan'shiral, or did anything other than break her heart and leave her, he would be corrupting her the way mythal corrupted him; a weapon to achieve his goal. but he refuses. in his mind, he already destroyed the world for love once; at mythal's behest. if he abandons the world for lavellan, he is destroying the world for love again, and making her an accomplice. so, every time he leaves her it is an act of love.

the way the inquisitor is the driving force of their romance is partly just... gameplay lol but its also consistent with the overarching theme of consent in a relationship that is fundamentally unethical and unequal. lavellan has to be the initiator or else solas becomes a predator. some would say he is anyway lol, but its clear much of the writing was designed to avoid this with the way he is constantly denying himself, backing away, trying not to give in. it might have been juicy, but for him to knowingly romantically and sexually pursue a young woman 10,000 years younger while lying to her about his identity and using her for his plans would make him an entirely different character. a character that would be a hit on romantasy booktok, but not solas. consent and ethics are so central to not only the relationship thematically, but to solas himself, and some of that is because of mythal and the inequality of their own past dynamic. solas is so passive in the romance not because he doesnt like this weird clingy bitch who wont leave him alone, but because he does not want to recreate the same dynamic that corrupted him into pride and uhhhh literally destroyed the world. i'll leave you with another essential quote that you may not have encountered yet:

Cole: It isn’t abuse if I ask! Solas: Not always true.

in trespasser, solas's duty to bring down the veil was more unambiguously to the elven people and the alleviation of his own crushing guilt, while mythal was collateral damage in his way and he used her like he would use anyone else (including lavellan loool) as a tool to achieve his goals. we see this when he kills flemeth and takes mythal's power. in veilguard they had to obscure this slightly to make him "less sympathetic", to use the devs own words. and they did this by shifting the crux of his motivations to mythal. i dont think his lap dog devotion is out of character, i adore it, but i hate that it came at the expense of his more complex and sympathetic motivations of saving the elven people and spirits from the damage of the veil. as a result, when looking at his behavior in the context of inquisition + trespasser + veilguard, i interpret it as mythal being symbolic of the destruction of the world at his hands. and not to toot my own horn but trick's interpretation that they shared on bluesky does support this, when they said that to solas, mythal represents the past and lavellan represents the future. ive written about his statement that it was all for mythal, and the tldr is that i think it is also supposed to be interpreted as symbolic and reflective of his psyche. but even if he did do it all for her, i dont think that necessarily negates his relationship with lavellan. he needs mythal to break the cognitive dissonance, alleviate his guilt, and release him, because she is the source of all of those things in the first place. lavellan could never break them because she is frankly irrelevant to those things. he is so caught up in his sunk-cost fallacy that he feels the only way is through. lavellan may not be able to break the hold the past has on him because she is separate from it, but she can offer him another path once it has been broken, a fork in the road he thought was straight; her, their future.

i think to say solas's heart is not free is a misunderstanding. he denies his heart's desire over and over, we see this clearly in the letter he sends to lavellan in veilguard that expresses how badly he wanted to put down his burden and stay with her. in his expressed reluctance to leave her in crestwood, how he refuses to lie and tell her it meant nothing. in "no matter what happens, i want you to know that what we had was real". his indulgent final kiss in trespasser. in "i will never forget you". its especially apt that you worded it this way and that vhenan means "my heart". if anything, his heart is the most free part of him. it is everything else that belongs to mythal: his body, created at her command. his path of destruction and ruin, which she set him on. his purpose, which she distorted from wisdom to pride. she, then, is the only one who can give it all back to him. and as soon as she does, he is free to prioritize his heart. and he quite literally does.

tldr; play inquisition <3

[gublernatural]

for pop star!reader, bringing him to the grammys perchance? i think it would be silly <3

i love this so im skipping ahead to post-situationship into full blown relationship stage with them <3 my fave duo (also reader is def inspired by my girl t swizzle at award shows and im not sorry about it.)

"you're sure?" you asked one more time, just before the car doors were to open. spencer, whose face was almost as red as the dress you were wearing, sent you an eager nod.

he was torn; stuck between being excited to be by your side, but terrified to be in such a public space. there were days where he was still in awe that he has been able to meet, fall in love with, and now date such a strong, hard-working lady, but days like today he is reminded how much the whole world has come to love his lover.

"then, let's go," you smiled at him, ushering him to step out of the car. he obliged, then reached his hand towards you, helping you out. "thank you," you smiled at him, quickly, and then guided him to the building’s entrance. you waved at your supporters as you walked, still marveling at the impact you’ve been able to make.

you two ended up being split, spencer dragged away to your designated table and you to the red carpet. you took photos and completed interviews as quickly as you could without being impolite. you couldn’t help but feel like you were longing to be back with spencer. despite all of the fun you were able to have, everything just felt better when he was around.

“there you are,” you smiled as you finally made your way to your seat. “how was the carpet?” he asked, sliding your chair out for you. you shrugged in response, turning your attention to the first performer to take the stage.

spencer spent most of the show watching you with starstruck eyes. it was evident, even to those watching from home, how deeply in love spencer truly was with you. there was a literal sparkle in eye as you danced along to each performer, completely and totally enjoying yourself. this was the happiest you'd been in a while. you felt pretty, were at a celebration, and had your favorite person in the world by your side. spencer being in a fancy suit that matched your dress and having his hair professionally done had nothing to do with it, of course.

"this was is yours, right?" spencer whispered into your ear as his arm slipped around your waist. he held you close in anticipation as they introduced your category: best new artist.

this was the biggest moment of your career thus far. sure, awards weren't everything to you, but being recognized for the work you'd put out in somewhere as important as the grammy's would feel so good. you nodded, anxiously, trying to use spencer's proximity to ground you. you hoped the camera that cut to you while you were being named amongst your competitors could see the nerves that were coursing through your veins.

"and the winner is," victoria monet, last year's winner, announced. the world around you turn to static as your name was called into the mic. spencer was up before you were, cheering. tears welled in your eyes, overcome with pride and gratefulness. you hugged spencer and your producer, before heading up to the stage.

"um," you hesitated into the mic after hugging victoria, "i did not think i was going to win this," you laughed. the crowd laughed as well. beyonce was laughing at you. taylor swift was laughing at you. spencer reid was laughing at you. this was the best moment of your life.

"everyone in this category is so amazing and i wish we could split this award eight different ways. thank you to anyone and everyone who has listened to my music and supported me so far. i would not be here if it weren't for you." the first tear slipped from your face and you quickly brought your empty tear up to wipe it.

"thank you to everyone who inspired me and my music, and anyone who laid a hand in creating it with me. my mind is so blank and i can't remember all of your names," everyone laughed again. "and thank you to those i love," your eyes slipped to your table in the crowd. the camera cut to spencer, who had the biggest smile on his face anyone had ever seen. "i wouldn't be here without you guys. thank you and i cannot wait to make more music for you." you ended with a gracious wave to the crowd and cameras, before dashing back to your table.

you threw yourself in spencer's arms again. his cheek smushed against your shoulder as he mumbled, "i'm so proud of you!" you didn't answer, but he felt your smile get impossibly wider against him. after your brief moment of affection, you settled back into his side, excited to see sabrina carpenter's performance.

[slutsareteacherstoo]

Gonna be blasting all these songs that came up below like wow, Reina. You got me fr. Its highkey a sign for me. Like lemme not block my blessings and get my shit together real quick but amazing

First up gon be that Keyshia Cole

Me reading the warnings more clearly know and sending praise 😩🙏🏿

OH SHE IS FREE?!?! GRACIAS MI REINA 🙏🏿🧎🏿‍♀️I WAS STRESSING!!!!! but damn that’s not freedom frfr but she out!

Come on inner dialogue tingz!!! 🗣️🗣️ “Guilt was burning across all of my deepest thoughts, creating a pile of self-doubt and resentment in the crevices of every memory— happy, sad, or indifferent.”

“For me, it was like carrying around a burden of responsibility that was far too delicate and overwhelming. As hard as I fought to keep the world inside my head unburdened by the plague of self-doubt, I failed— forgetting just how easy it is for me to self-destruct without the slightest potential of reprieve.” Its giving sisyphus😪free my girl fr!!!!

Shit that freaked me out but i too would freak out and had i heard someone fall to the floor

“I was battling the urge to do what I normally do—spew hateful words until the other person retreats. For the first time in my life, my body and mind actually agreed with my heart. I couldn't do it. Nothing would come out no matter how many times I opened my mouth— no words word forms and all sounds were deafened on my lips. I was unconsciously saving myself from myself, and, in this fight, I was my only opponent.” - you be writing poetry? 🧐🤨 just curious 🤓 it’s very lyrical, very verse!!! I like that last sentence.

OH GOT HE TOGETHER REAL QUICK!!!!!

Nah Havana. We nuh av dat!!!! 😤 THE PERSON IN FRONT IS SHOWING YOU THEY LOVE YOU BABY YOU NOT PRETENDING!! And ol boy knows its not an act 😩

“…Today might not be that day, but dammit if I don't try.” - well *claps hands* so when’s the wedding??? 🤭 no but that was some real shit. This IS some real shit. Havana’s inability to accept her relationship with Terry and his love for her for what it is is def a situation ik all too well, even when all the conditions are met that doesn’t change the mindfuck and guilt can be consuming. And also like being able too see the grey. Cuz like yes 🙄 Vana couldve reeled it in a bit but/and/also Terry was being communicative and ignored Vana when she brought up what happened and how it clearly bothered her. So the moral is that there’s shared accountability in all this!!!

*LEARN SOMETHING FROM THIS*

Yes we love big bawling, emotional Terry being raw and vulnerable

“Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up,” I cooed into his ear.” 🥺🥺

“I love you,” I said softly, kissing Terry's head. “I just gotta figure out how… how to love me, too.” - WHEW THATLL DO IT!!!!! 😭

Not his voice metro booming i wouldve [redacted] right there

“Nah…. Not Daddy. Terry. That's my name tonight. Okay?” he said, pressing me further into the mattress.” - THEY GON BE MAKING LOVE TONIGHT YALL 😫 play “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” by Elton John

OH SHIT WE DOIN AFFIRMATIONS NOW?!?!

I blinked in between the pumps like sorry Vana. scooch over real quick i need to hear this 😅🙈

HEY SIRI PUT THAT DESTIN CONRAD “IT’S YOURS” ON REPEAT!!!

Lmaooo ok ok ok Reina 😌Mi Reina you’ve redeemed yourself in the eyes of your public. Now i know (partially)why you had the girls [gender neutral] up in arms. But wow!!!

This was sooo disarming. Like you stripped me raw and got me reflecting like fuck. I don’t do fisticuffs but that anger and being quick to use it on people who aren’t careful. Them words could cut a bitch fr!!! But like wow im like taken aback and in awe. Like shoutout to Vana for seeing herself through it. I mean Terry helped or whatever 🙄 but again Vana did the heavy lifting and thT makes me soo proud to see.

And you’ve done such an amazing job crafting these characters, esp your OC and making her face her shit and be real with herself, always for the better. Like chile lemme get myself together so I can be present in my future relationships like damn. It took me a minute to catch up but it was actually perfect timing. Like wow.

Im constantly blown away by you and seeing you expand in your craft. Ik im a behind but ik that means theres more in store to give flowers to always 💜

Big Mama Pt. 12 | Enough

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +5.1K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, light smut (fingering), heavily dialogue-centered, angst, verbal argument, self-deprecation

🦋Big Mama (series) => 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Early That Morning

“Monnie, I don't know… Everything is just…,” I said, crying softly.

“Girl! If you don't just praise God right quick, and call that man to thank him.” Monnie said, smacking her lips. She was understandably agitated with my response. Was it lackluster? Yes, but I didn't know what to say or do about it. I didn't want to seem ungrateful, but I honestly wasn't happy with the outcome.

After almost three weeks of pure hell, I received a call from a lawyer that Terry himself hired. I was told the conditions for maintaining my freedom as I was currently living in the aftermath of the incident between Terry, me, and Taylor. It was finally over, but here I was still crumbling under the weight of it all.

The terms and conditions were as follows:

Terry agrees not to sue Taylor as long as she agrees not to sue me.

Terry agrees not to file and pursue criminal charges against Taylor as long as she agrees to drop the charges against me and forfeit her right to refile.

I would not be allowed to approach Taylor in any public setting, but we could be present in the same vicinity.

There would be no established restraining order from Taylor against me, just a peace order since we have no standing or pre-existing relationship.

Terry's family agreed to take care of any outstanding medical bills for Taylor, along with her receiving a small undisclosed amount.

The records would be expunged after 90 days.

The terms were simple and clear. I just hated how much Terry had to give up for it. The outcome was obviously unfavorable and one-sided. The single impartial party who deserved justice and compensation received none— Terry. Because of that, I felt like crawling into a hole and never resurfacing. Guilt was burning across all of my deepest thoughts, creating a pile of self-doubt and resentment in the crevices of every memory— happy, sad, or indifferent.

My faith in love had been tainted by my own doing not because I didn't think Terry loved me but because I felt like he shouldn't. Every voice in my head told me I was and should've been deemed unlovable years ago. Honestly, a person like me is not capable of accepting a love as pure as Terry's. For me, it was like carrying around a burden of responsibility that was far too delicate and overwhelming. As hard as I fought to keep the world inside my head unburdened by the plague of self-doubt, I failed— forgetting just how easy it is for me to self-destruct without the slightest potential of reprieve.

2 Hours Later

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

I was startled awake by the thunder of someone pounding on my front door. I had fallen asleep on the loveseat in my living room.

Jumping up, I attempted to make my way to the door. I used the oversized plush blanket as a cover and held it tightly against my body. I was only wearing a sports bra and micro-biker shorts.

As I walked around the edge of the coffee table, the blanket snagged the corner and positioned itself under my feet. My right foot got trapped in the sea of fabric, causing me to crash onto the floor. My knees collided with the laminated wood with vigor. I had no time to lick my wounds.

“Shit!” I yelled.

At this point, I was more than agitated. I tore the blanket off of me and tossed it to the floor. Using the arm of the recliner, I regained my footing and stood up. I placed my hands on my hips and drew in a deep breath as my body registered the pain from the fall.

Before I could make another move, the knocking began again. This time, the sounds were harder and louder.

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

KNOCK

Each knock sounded off, shaking the front door. I paused in fear. My anxiety peaked as my mind began to race with disturbing thoughts. I wasn't expecting visitors, so who was this?

“I can hear you inside, ‘Vana. Please, just open the door.” said a muffled voice from outside.

No. No. No. It couldn't be. Why would he be here?

“Terry?!” I yelled back in confusion and relief.

“Yes, baby! Now, can you open the door? We really need to talk,” he said.

I remained frozen in place. Losing the ability to hear, Terry's voice began to drown out.

“Havana!” he yelled again.

“Uh, Terry. I just… I don't…,” I whimpered loudly.

Before any coherent thoughts left my lips, the door swung open. I couldn't help but stare at Terry in shock.

“How the fuck……,” I asked as I approached him slowly.

“I had a key made months ago. I wanted it for emergencies. This counts as an emer….,” Terry said.

“Terry! Get out! Now!” I yelled. I was beyond frustrated and tired.

Today has worn me thin, and my patience was at its lowest. I wasn't in the mood for tolerating any form of nonsense or mess.

“No! Havana, baby… We need to talk, and I'm not leaving until we do.”

I knew I owed Terry an apology, a conversation, and everlasting grace; but I couldn't even find it in me to give myself the same.

I was battling the urge to do what I normally do—spew hateful words until the other person retreats. For the first time in my life, my body and mind actually agreed with my heart. I couldn't do it. Nothing would come out no matter how many times I opened my mouth— no words word forms and all sounds were deafened on my lips. I was unconsciously saving myself from myself, and, in this fight, I was my only opponent.

“Havana, look at me!” Terry said, grabbing my chin. Oh, how a firm yet loving hand can change things. My heart fluttered and skipped in my chest as his fingers stoked the surface of my skin.

“Terry… I… I'm sorry,” I said as tears finally broke free. “You… Y-you deserve more than I can give you. I want… I want you to be happy. I just don't think that can happen with me.”

“Mama, don—,” Terry said.

“No! Terry, just lea—leave. Please!” I yelled, pushing him away.

“Havana,” Terry said, grabbing my arms. His eyes dropped to meet mine.

Yanking away from him, I yelled again, “Ter—!”. Before I could finish, Terry's face shifted into a look of utter aggravation.

“That's it! Havana Rose,…. sit down or I'll sit you down,” Terry muttered through gritted teeth as he pointed towards the couch.

I stood there for a second frozen in shock. I never expected Terry to put up this much of a fight.

“Aight, I'm done. I'm sick—,” he started to speak as he picked me up and tossed me over his shoulder, “—of this shit!”.

Terry began to carry me down the hall. I pushed against his back in a feeble attempt to be released. I knew struggling was pointless, but I wasn't ready for the conversation Terry clearly wanted to have.

As we rounded the corner of my bedroom door, I could feel the tears falling with ease. There was no noise leaving my body as I silently wept. I should've prepared for this more productively. Instead, I tried to choose a coward's way out, and Terry wasn't having it.

Like always, life had a weirdly tumultuous way of making me confront my feelings.

Placing me on the bottom edge of my bed, Terry stood in front of me. His eyes scanned my face as he watched me teeter on the edge of implosion.

“Hav—,” Terry started. He squatted down in front of me and rested his hands on my knees.

As much as I wanted this to end, one question was burning through my mind— heavy and bitter as it weighed on my tongue. Unfortunately for me, the four words could not be swallowed back down, allowing the unpleasantness of the discontent to fester in the back of my throat. I knew how to rectify this feeling, and I knew how to pacify the voices in my head. But, should I, and did I deserve it?

“Do you love me?” I asked, avoiding Terry's gaze. I could see his lips begin moving, so I placed my hand over his mouth. “No, just listen to me. I want you to think about what happened. I can't even control my anger. W-what if… you wake up one day and finally realize y-you… deserve better… than me. I'm sick of pretending like… like I'm enough. Terry, we both know I'll never be enough, so let's just end this now,” I spoke barely above a whisper.

Terry's hands lifted to rest on my shoulders. As his eyes pleaded with me, I saw a glimmer of something I wish I didn't— hesitation and uncertainty. I slowly pushed his hands off my shoulders, waiting for him to just say what we already knew.

Terry didn't love me. He loved what he thought I—

“’Vana, let's get something clear. I love you with all my fuckin' heart. Just saying I love you isn't enough for me because you're everything to me. What can I do to show you that? Huh? Tell me, love. What can I do?”

I hung my head in defeat. Most women would be swooning over this, but it only added another layer to the guilt that was consuming me. Now, he was giving me unconditional love when I couldn't even allow myself the space to apologize.

“Terry, no. Please, just—,” I choked, wiping away tears.

“No, you stop. Stop beating yourself up about this. I understand that what I did made you doubt me, but don't ever feel like the problem was you. I was. I did it. All of this is on me. If I would have been man enough to tell you the truth about what happened, there wouldn't have been a fight. That one mistake caused all of this. This is my fault, not yours. And—,” he spewed breathlessly.

“Terry…,” I interrupted him.

“No, let me finish. Believe me, when I say this, I'll fight the devil himself for you. I'll climb the mountains in heaven just to find you again. I don't think you understand me, baby. I love every part of you. I hope that one day you can see that. Today might not be that day, but dammit if I don't try.”

Terry stood at his full height, towering over me. His eyes were bright yet somehow lacking their normal vitality, seeming to be void of any indication of happiness. It became clear to me that this was wearing Terry down just as much as it was me. As much as I wanted him to give up, the idea of causing him such grief and fatigue weighed heavily on my heart.

He drew his hands into fists as I watched his eyes. His face became flustered, and his breathing became ragged. Every breath choppier than the last. I could sense something brewing inside of him. His hands were shaking slightly as they rested by his side. As he unclenched and clenched his fists, his bottom lip began to quiver. His eyes glossed over, and his gaze became lethargic. No… No… This couldn't be happening.

“Terry, I'm sorry. I just feel like we can't—,” I said, standing from the bed.

Tears were streaming from Terry's eyes. The strength in his face was faltering right before my eyes.

I slowly reached out to touch his face, stroking his cheek while I wiped away the tears. He grabbed my hand, holding it tightly against his cheek.

“These… these last few weeks have been pure hell for me. I missed you so much, mama. It's like for the first… for the first time in my life, I know love; and that's because of you,” he paused for a moment, taking long deep breaths. “It was a funny feeling at first…. and coming to terms with it was hell. You only hear of women wanting to be seen and heard, but now that I know the feeling—. I don't think I could ever go back to what I thought love was.”

“Terry, you really feel that way?” I asked, sobbing with him at this point.

“Yes, it honestly scared me when I realized how much I loved you… Whew… I had to sit with the fact that I had never loved someone that much… and… and I had never been loved properly before you. Baby,… listen to me… I can say this before God and before you… that this is a love worth fighting for. Havana Rose, YOU'RE worth fighting for. Do you… please, tell me you understand,” he sobbed into my hand.

“Terry, baby, I'm so sorry. I didn't want… I just didn't know what to say,” I said, pulling him into a hug.

“You don't have to say anything. Just tell me you're not leaving,” he said, kissing the top of my head.

His hands wrapped around my waist even tighter. I rested my face in his chest and mumbled a quiet no.

How could I leave him, especially now? For the first time, my heart felt— full.

“Thank you, ‘Vana. I love you. Okay?” he said, leaning into me.

“I love you, too,” I confessed, wiping away my tears.

I reached out to touch Terry's face, tracing the outline of his jaw. As if that was all the reassurance he needed, his shoulders dropped slowly. I watched patiently as his body returned to a state of normalcy— shoulders broad, chest out, and head high.

As we stood there silently refusing to let each other go, he let out a long yawn.

“Tired?” I questioned, looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he laughed.

“Wanna take a nap… uh… together?” I asked, praying that he would say yes.

There was nothing I craved more than his touch right now. I needed him bad. Luckily, I didn't have to wait long for his answer.

“Hell, yeah!” he blurted, lifting me. His hands carefully wrapped my legs around his waist.

He kneeled on the edge of the bed, crawling towards the head with me in his arms. He gently laid me in the center of the pillows. I released my legs and let them fall onto the bed.

Finally untangling from each other, Terry lifted himself onto his hands. He scooted down so that his head was resting on my chest. I used one hand to run my fingers through his velvety hair, massaging his scalp with my fingertips. The other hand soothingly rubbed his back like a baby. Terry's arms wrapped under my body, embracing me tightly. I let my lips rest at the top of his head.

“Go to sleep. I'll be right here when you wake up,” I cooed into his ear.

2 Hours Later

Waking up to Terry's body on mine felt like home— a place I'd never been allowed to experience. As I watched his shoulders rise and fall with each breath, I released one of my own. With him here in my arms, I could breathe again.

Terry's presence was a breath of fresh air because, admittedly, he was the air that I breathed. I had never felt so attached to anyone or anything. Every part of him called out to something in me. His voice soothed my soul, his lips electrified whatever they touched, his hands… God, his hands absolved me of my suffering, and his eyes knew how to see my heart.

“I love you,” I said softly, kissing Terry's head. “I just gotta figure out how… how to love me, too.”

Terry's arms adjusted underneath me, causing me to hold my breath. Embarrassment washed over me, warming my skin. I was silently praying that he didn't hear me. Releasing a deep groan after a few minutes, I realized he was in a deep sleep again. His shoulders slumped forward, allowing his body to melt into mine.

Releasing a heavy sigh, I leaned over and kissed Terry's forehead. I knew that lifting this man off of me would be damn near impossible. I was debating on if I should wake him up or not. I shifted to one side so his hold on me would loosen. His arms fell away from my body, allowing me to scoot out from under him— barely. I carefully moved towards the edge of the bed. I slowly turned my body so my feet softly landed on the floor.

I stood from the bed, stumbling as the feeling in my legs returned. They felt like jelly as a deep tingling sensation went to my toes. I kicked my feet and flicked my ankles.

As I sauntered across the room, I heard Terry stir in his slumber. I glanced over my shoulder to see him now on his back. His arm thrown across his chest left him posed so… so… delicately like an angel. Terry’s face alone could render even the most wicked defenseless.

I smiled brightly at the sight of him. I quietly opened the bathroom door. Stopping to stare at the mirror, I took in my appearance. Yikes! I looked like… something, and it wasn't nice.

I mentally made plans to do my hair— or maybe I'll just pay someone.

Using the bathroom as quickly as possible, I reentered the bedroom and dried my hands on a towel. I glanced over at Terry to see his chest still rising and falling. I half-smiled at the sight. Walking towards the door, I entered into the front room. I closed the door softly behind me.

Before I could reach the kitchen, I heard a noise coming from behind me. The springs of my old mattress were loud and alarming.

“Havana! Where are you?!” yelled Terry from the bedroom. I could hear the bed creaking again.

I turned around to walk back to the bedroom door. “Why is this man yelling?” I asked myself quietly as I giggled.

“HAVANA!” Terry yelled even louder than the first time. The tone of his voice contained a sense of urgency and concern. Panic set in for me as soon as I realized the distress in his voice.

Sprinting towards the door, I flung it open. “What's wrong?” I inquired softly.

Terry was seated on the edge of the bed, facing the door. His eyes shot up to meet mine. The look on Terry's face made my heart thump. My breath quickened anxiously. His eyes were red, and his face was flushed. His head swayed on his shoulders as his breathing quieted. His fingers dug into the bed with a ferocious grip.

I approached him slowly. Softening my voice before speaking, I raised my hand to stroke his cheek. “Baby, are you okay?” I asked him.

Terry's eyes darted from my face to the floor. The worried look on his face cut deep as his eyes seemed to search for mine. This was not a look of simple anxiety or worry. His countenance was charged with— despair and desperation.

I leaned over to place kisses on his forehead. “Hey, I'm right here. Wh—,” I whispered as Terry threw his arms around my waist.

He pulled me into a fervent embrace. His arms felt like a second skin against my body. I felt his shoulders fall forward as his body went limp against mine. I couldn't understand the overwhelming range of emotions this man was displaying.

“I… I… I th-thought you were gone,” he said with his face pressed into my belly.

I squatted down in front of him. “Terry, I'm not going anywhere. I promise. I told you that, honey,” I said, cupping his chin in my hand.

He slowly shook his head in understanding as if he was coming to terms with my words.

That's when it hit me. HE THOUGHT I HAD LEFT.

“Terry, look at me. I love you. You big baby,” I said, smiling at him somberly.

“I know. I just panicked I guess. I'm sorry about that,” he said, looking at the floor.

“Awww, don't apologize. I'm okay, papa,” I said, rising on my feet. “You hungry?” I asked him while softly caressing the side of his neck.

His head leaned up slowly as a slight grin spread across his face. “Hell yeah,” he laughed.

Later That Night

“You done, baby?” I asked Terry as I stood from the couch. I held my hand out to take his plate.

“Yeah, here—,” he started. “Wait! Give those here. I got it. You sit down,” he said, taking the plates from me.

“Terry, I could've washed them. It isn't that many.”

“Nah… I told you I got it,” he said, kissing my forehead as he walked past me.

I stood there in silence. This was so adorable to me. How could this man get any cuter?

“Ok. Fine. I'll sit, I guess.” I sat down on the arm of the couch.

Terry entered the kitchen and placed the dishes in the sink. I don't know why, but the sight of this man washing dishes was so… I could feel the butterflies in my tummy going wild.

As I watched his back muscles move, I felt something. I immediately felt my panties grow damp as his shirt clung to every curve and crevice of his body.

I bit my lip as I crossed my legs. Feeling my body come alive, I released a quiet sigh. I needed this man— on me, in me, with me, however.

I repositioned myself with my legs on both sides of the arm of the couch so that I was straddling it. I was losing a silent battle between my mind and my body. I could feel my hips move slowly. There was no way this man had me grinding my pussy against a fuckin' couch. The friction of my labia and clit rubbing against the couch through the thin material of my biker shorts aided in creating the slick pool in the seat of my shorts. I knew they were ruined, but I was too aroused to stop.

I gulped in desperation, trying to fight against whatever this was. I didn't want to attack this man just yet. I knew words needed to be said and feelings needed to be discussed. I looked down at my body, covering my face in shame. I was being betrayed by the only thing I thought I had control over— myself. Every movement I made and thought I had was overpowered by him.

I was suffering, and I knew it. There was only one way to stop it. I had to feed the beast.

With eyes stricken with defeat, I looked over at him. I feverishly hummed in desperation, “Terry. I… um… I-,”.

To my surprise, he was no longer facing the sink. He was looking directly at me. I froze in shame. I watched his eyes lower as his gaze dropped. I dropped my head and looked at the floor.

“You need something, ‘Vana?” Terry asked. His voice boomed through the air. The intense weight of that question landed right where I needed it— my heart and my pussy. I was past hot and bothered. I was in the middle of having a sexual crisis.

I looked back at him and nodded. At this point, I was a needy mess. If Terry so much as touched me, I'd cum. I wanted to speak, but I knew whatever sound my lips released would be lascivious.

“I’m going to ask you again. Do you need something?” Terry asked, leaning forward against the kitchen island.

“Yeessss,” I whined.

“And what do you need?” he asked, moving to the other side of the island.

I drew in a breath and spoke, “YOU! I NEED YOU!”.

The speed at which Terry made it to me was incredible. His movements were so swift and fluid that his feet never made a sound.

His arms wrapped around my body as he picked me up. My legs instantly found their home around his waist. As soon as his gaze met mine, our lips crashed into each other's. His tongue grazed the seam of my lips, begging for entry. I parted my lips and without pause, our tongues went to war. Each of us fighting for more.

I leaned back to catch my breath. I was shocked to discover that we were now standing in my bedroom. I was too wrapped up in that kiss to notice our location changed.

Terry softly placed me in the center of the bed. He slowly lifted his shirt above his head before tossing it across the room. His hands dropped to the top of his waistband.

I watched intently as his hands moved to remove his clothes. I was practically salivating in anticipation for his pants to fall. I knew what I wanted to see. Terry sensed my eagerness and released a rumbly laugh. “Patience, baby,” he said, removing his pants.

My eyes locked into the large tent at the front of his boxers. I reached out to palm the ever-growing bulge in need and desperation. My neediness had slowly built up in the pit of my stomach becoming a slow churning ache. Terry’s hand grabbed mine and brought it to his lips. He began gingerly kissing my inner wrist.

“Daddy,” I whimpered, pulling my hand away.

Terry's demeanor shifted as his hand once again grabbed mine. Interlocking his fingers in mine, he pulled my hand towards his chest. He placed it over his heart while leaning over me.

“Nah…. Not Daddy. Terry. That's my name tonight. Okay?” he said, pressing me further into the mattress.

I stared straight into his eyes. Lost for words was an understatement. For some reason, I fully understood the intention behind his declaration. This was between Havana and Terry, and this was NOT a scene.

Moments Later

“Say it, baby. I wanna hear you say it,” Terry said, placing his mouth back on my nipple. Using nothing but the tip of his tongue, he flicked the overly sensitive bud repeatedly.

My body was growing more and more enraptured by nothing more than Terry's touch. The feeling of his tongue and hands all over my body was intoxicating. I was in love, love drunk, and high off him.

“I'm yours,” I moaned out quietly.

“And… What else?” Terry asked, switching to my other breast.

Pushing my chest up, I wrapped my hands around the back of his head. Fully enthralled in the moment, my grasp on reality slipped.

“I'm… I'm enough. I'm enough,” I rasped almost chanting into the air.

Terry's licks became suckles as one of his hands found a home between my legs.

He moaned as he found pleasure in his own sentiments. “Enough for who?” he asked back in reinforcement.

“For you!” I screamed, feeling myself come undone as two of Terry's fingers pushed into my pussy.

The gasp I let out became trapped in my throat, leaving me choking on air.

“Breathe, ‘Vana. Hey, take a deep breath for me,” Terry pleaded, knitting his eyebrows together in concern.

I swallowed hard and struggled to find air. This was too much. For the first time, I didn't know how to respond or react. The control of my body was no longer in my hands. Terry's voice quickly became the guiding light drawing me to whatever awaited me. Whether that was pleasure, happiness, or a combination of both, I would gratefully accept my fate after wholeheartedly surrendering to his every desire, urge, and craving. I was HIS, and his authority was absolute— there was no doubt about it.

“Look at me. Don't… you… ever… doubt… how much… I… love… you. Understood?” Terry demanded in between kisses as his fingers slowly pumped in and out of me.

“Y-yes. I'm sorry,” I whined, clenching around his fingers.

“All I want you to focus on is breathing. Let me handle everything else,” Terry whispered into my ear.

“Ughh….” I sobbed as tears rolled from the corners of my eyes.

“Baby, I missed you,” he cooed, resting his lips against my chin.

“I… I mi-missed you, too,” I panted breathlessly.

Terry's lips covered mine in a kiss fueled by desire, stealing my breath and filling me with his. A heavenly set of plush full lips left a soft trail of kisses along my chin until they reached the side of my neck. Tongue swiping back and forth over the supple skin. I gasped as I felt his teeth nip on the sensitive area.

Every action led to one conclusion— this was yearning in its purest form. LOVE.

“Talk to me, ‘Vana. I need to hear something,” he whispered into the side of my neck. All while his two fingers were stealing my soul— slowly.

Against my better judgment, I attempted to speak. I whimpered in delirium as my mouth released nothing but haphazard babbles. All poor attempts at speech as words slipped from my recollection. I just hoped, for my sake, that my body could tell Terry what my mouth couldn't.

As I was sinking and falling simultaneously to a place I had never been, a new question arose. Is this what being stripped raw felt like?

Without my permission, Terry had pulled me into a state of vulnerability and surrender. Using only his hands and his tongue, he had left me exposed with nowhere to hide. I was being forced to hand over my heart and soul. I was finding myself with every kiss.

To myself, I was Havana Rose Taylor. A black woman who deserved love in all forms. I was an exquisite piece of art— rare and invaluable. I was flawed yet virtuous, in my own right.

To the man I loved, I was deserving and admirable. I was the world in human form. A woman capable of love— potent and everlasting. I was desirable and alluring in every facet of the terms. I was… HIS.

And most importantly, I was enough— for me and for Terry.

A/N: Remember, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by ME (theereina). Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Taglist: @brattyfics @persethegawd @avoidthings @5headsupremacist @jimmybutlrr @episodes-ff @kimuzostar @insidefeelingofanadult @kirayuki22 @nayaesworld @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @ariiijestertheklown @nayaxwrites @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @pocketsizedpanther @gg-trini @vivaalenaa @slutsareteacherstoo @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @dabratzchronicles @pinkpantheris @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi @helloncrocs @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @iburias @geee3bayyybeee3 @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @prettypink-princesss @teeresaresa @dxddykenn @simplyzeeka @theglamclosetsl @melaninadorned

[theshitpostcalligrapher]

Looking for people who paid for calligraphy on stream and never sent me an address to mail your calligraphy to

Okay so this one's a long shot

a lot of folks have gotten cards written during livestreams through direct donation of a couple bucks over the years, and most folks who've gotten work done have followed up with a mailing address or a clear message of "release the cards, I don't want the physical ones mailed", but I'm accumulating a MASSIVE pile of cards that have been paid for and essentially unclaimed.

And bear in mind, some of these were not BOUGHT by the person getting the card, they're gifts from other people so you might be like "wait i didnt pay for this?" well someone wants you to get calligraphy in the mail idk

these are mainly twitch handles, but I'm hoping that at least some of yall have the same tumblr handles as twitch handles and let me know if you're down with sending me a mailing address to get your card(s) in the mail OR if you'd like to be on the no-mail list

here we go:

@dragon-of-the-stars (i think, this person's anaia_lionel on twitch) @ansa42 @arrestedvalor @astralauger @blackdamien @climbitchange @enzilla97 @erynies @freelancer @impressivelylargeduck @jforjamie13 @kejokaya @experimentaloatmeal (manfredatee on twitch) @maryellencarter @mermaidwithfangs @mmmordecai @nyquistalias @owenevans00 @raventhekittycat @riomotley @sgtsoppy @spacewolftc @stylishfail @theshadiertwin @thistle @VRSVLU @climbitchange (i think? this is wowchroma on twitch)

I think I've dm'd or tried to dm you based on what I remember of tumblr handles, but otherwise im hoping some of yall are out there o7

(planning on a mass sendout of calligraphy cards at the end of this month since there's an openaskbox coming up, thought I'd gather as much addressing info as possible when sending out said cards)

[caracalla-dondus]

hi hi i hope you’re having a fab day i loved your most recent works and saw you wanted some requests so here i am i didn’t see any rules posted yet so if anything in this ask makes you uncomfy im very sorry!! but oki okie this is semi inspired by your last geta fic and so i was thinking like Caracalla x like actress reader who comes into town with her acting troop and peforms for the emperors one night when caracalla is in bad mood and readers the only one who can make him laugh while he’s in one of his moods and so geta keeps calling reader back to entertain him and sorta help with his sundowning and caracalla just gets absolutely obsessed with reader and refuses to let them leave and go back with there troop and jsut wants to keep reader all to themselves smut if you do that would be fab but if not that’s okie too!! ~🫐

Thank you for your request and kind words 😊 I hope you enjoy the fic and that it's to your liking. I wrote more than I was planning but actress!reader inspired me.

The Actress

Pairing: Emperor Caracalla/Actress!reader

Summary: Caracalla becomes enthralled by an actress one night and soon becomes completely obsessed with her.

Dividers By: cafekitsune

Author's Note: I refer to actress!reader as a mime actress but "mime" does not mean the modern day mime who wears white face paint and is silent. Mime actors and actresses in ancient Rome were entertainers who did comedy, satirical, or even erotic performances. From what I briefly read, mime actresses were some of the few women allowed to publicly perform and they performed without masks unlike most theater actors. It was a scandalous profession, often equated with sex workers, but they could gain a lot of fame from their work. Empress Theodora was once a popular mime actress before she was empress.

The grand halls of the imperial palace were alive with the sounds of music, laughter, and the clinking of goblets. All in attendance were lively and enjoying the night. All except for Caracalla. Geta could feel his brother's restless agitation beside him. Caracalla had been in one of his darker moods, his hair was unkempt from refusing to allow the servants near him, his toga was disheveled from the tussle him and Geta had when Geta attempted to get his brother presentable. Caracalla had not wanted to be there that night. Geta had hoped his brother’s foul mood would be improved by the pleasant evening of revelry, but it seems to only be worsening it. With a sigh, Geta had a servant refill his goblet and he observed his brother. Geta often found himself playing caretaker to Caracalla, whose moods could disrupt everything. Geta never liked his brother being unhappy and he was determined to change his sour mood.

"Bring in the actors," Geta commanded, waving a jeweled hand.

The troupe of actors and actresses quickly stepped before the emperors and bowed. Their costumes were vibrant, their smiles wide and infectious. Yet Caracalla's face remained a mask of irritation, unmoved by them and their antics. But then the mime actress, with her expressive eyes and exaggerated gestures, and her beauty illuminated by the glow of the oil lamps stepped forward. Her voice was melodious as she spoke, delivering lines with such charm and wit that even the spectators who were distracted by aspects of the festivities had leaned forward with interest. She captivated the audience with her presence. She said a jest, a line mocking a pompous senator that everyone secretly despised and gossiped about. And then something remarkable happened.

Caracalla laughed.

It wasn’t a sarcastic, malicious laugh, nor was it a scornful snicker. It was genuine. It was carefree. It was innocent. Geta was immediately intrigued by her effect on his twin. Caracalla was enthralled, his eyes fixed on the actress as if she were the only person in the room. She had done what no one else had been able to accomplish that night or most nights, she lifted his foul mood. No one had managed to make Caracalla laugh like that in a long while and it gave Geta an idea.

After the performance, as the troupe of actors and actresses bowed and the audience erupted in applause, Geta raised his hand and beckoned the mime actress forward. With a curious gleam in her eye, she approached the imperial box. Caracalla watched her excitedly, his eyes bright with newfound interest. Geta leaned forward and asked, “What’s your name, actress?”

She gave her name in a soft and respectful manner, bowing her head gracefully.

“You will stay here in the palace tonight. My brother finds you amusing, and I wish for you to remain and continue to make him laugh,” Geta informed her.

A flicker of surprise passed over her face, but she quickly adapted. “Of course, Caesar,” she said smoothly, her cheery nature shining through. “It would be an honor.” There was no true choice of course. To refuse an emperor was to invite ruin.

Caracalla’s volatile eyes lit up, very pleased by his brother’s proposition. “Yes! You’ll stay here,” he echoed exuberantly. “You’ll stay with me.”

From that moment forward, the actress’s life changed drastically. The acting troupe she had once called family faded away as she found herself the companion of an unpredictable emperor. While others might have rightfully felt caged after being forced into such a situation, she simply went with the flow. Her time on the streets and on stage had gifted her with invaluable adaptability and resilience. She was blessed with the kind of wisdom that comes only from having to survive on her wits alone for so long. Life was a performance after all, and she was an expert at surviving any role thrusted upon her.

Her time as a traveling actress had taught her to read people quickly. She prided herself on her ability to sense danger or opportunity in a mere glance. With Caracalla, these skills became crucial. She learned quickly how to navigate Caracalla’s tempestuous moods. When he was agitated, she knew whether to soothe him or stay quiet. When he sulked, she held him close, whispering soft reassurances, and stroking his hair as if he were a fragile boy rather than the most feared man in Rome. In moments of volatile rage, she knew it was best to step back, leaving him to tire himself out. Yet her greatest tool of all was her charm. No matter how deep Caracalla spiraled into paranoia or rage, he could never resist her when she turned playful. One kiss, one embrace, one timely seduction, and his dark thoughts would vanish into thin air. His volatile temper would melt beneath her touch, and his anger would turn into boyish giggles. It was surprisingly easy to draw Caracalla under the influence of lust. He hungered for affection, craving a closeness he’d never experienced, and she was quite generous with her attention for her emperor.

Caracalla quickly became obsessed with her.

At first, he simply wanted her near. She was to dine with him, to amuse him, to accompany him in the evenings when his mind became clouded. She spoke to him with kindness, soothed him when frustration overtook him, when he was playful she laughed at his jokes even when they made no sense, and indulged his whims with the patience of a mother tending to a difficult child. Caracalla in turn clung to her like he often does with Dondus, refusing to let her out of his sight for too long.

Caracalla would dress his monkey Dondus in tiny outfits, and she would sit beside them, smiling indulgently at the sight. Caracalla laughed at his own games, turning to her, desperate for approval like a child wanting a mother's praise. “Look! I got Dondus a new dress!” he’d say, beaming.

She would laugh sweetly, clapping her hands. “How distinguished he is!”

Caracalla adored her praise, craving her attention. She became his favorite source of comfort. Often, in the twilight hours, Caracalla would grow restless. His moods turning dark, a product of the illness that plagued his troubled mind. He would pace the room, muttering about imaginary plots, threats, and betrayals.

“Geta is against me,” he whispered one night, eyes wild. “Everyone is against me.”

“My emperor,” she said sweetly, lifting her eyes to meet his. “Do not dwell on such dark thoughts.” She approached gently, her touch gentle on his shoulder. “I’m here,” she said soothingly. “And I’ll shield you from them all.” She had learned it didn’t do much good to try and talk sense to him in these moments. If she denied his claims about Geta then he would just rage at her and accuse her of favoring his brother like everyone else does. She knew these thoughts would naturally fade on their own. But she also knew to carefully choose her words because they held the power to heal or destroy.

Caracalla’s tense body relaxed under her touch. He leaned into her embrace, eyes growing soft, vulnerable. “Promise?”

“I promise,” she whispered, gently running her fingers through his red hair as he buried his face against her. “I’ll always be here for you.”

She knew exactly how to calm his fears, to make him feel safe. She’d hold him until his fears subsided, or distract him with whispered words, soft laughter, and kisses that left him breathless, his troubled thoughts wiped clean.

Geta was initially wary of her influence over his brother, but he eventually found himself grateful for her presence. The arrangement made his life easier and lifted a weight off his shoulders and that was enough for him. Geta recognized the power she held over his brother and began to rely on her to keep Caracalla tamed. “Keep him content,” he instructed her privately. “Keep him calm.”

She understood her role and embraced it. After all, things could be worse than being the favored companion of an emperor. She had influence, luxury, and a kind of power she had never dreamed possible for herself. Caracalla frequently gifted her all kinds of extravagant things. She had silk stolas in nearly every color. She had lavish jewels. She held political sway by being a whisper in his ear. And if she had to deal with some erratic moods of his in return then so be it. She thought it was better to be under the protection of an unstable emperor who cherished her than to be accosted by random men like before when she was a simple mime actress with no one to defend her. To the palace staff, senators, and other nobles, she was no longer just a lowly woman in a scandalous profession who warmed the emperor’s bed. She was now a force to be reckoned with, the woman who had the affections of the mercurial emperor.

She became more than just a source of entertainment. She became Caracalla’s heart, his anchor to reality. She could be a mother, a lover, a confidante, or simply the pretty distraction that eased his pain. And in return, Caracalla became obsessed with her, refusing to let her leave his side. Her world became a gilded cage, but she learned to live comfortably as the lovely bird within it.

On one particularly bad night, Caracalla's rage became too much even for her to simply soothe with words. He threw things, smashing vases, wine goblets, everything in his path was being destroyed. His shouts echoing through the palace halls. But she approached when she sensed his anger was cooling down, her arms slipping around his tense form. She pressed soft kisses to his jaw, his neck, his trembling hands.

“Come to bed,” she whispered enticingly, her voice honey sweet. “Let me help you forget it all.”

Caracalla shivered under her touch, his anger silenced by desire. He cupped her face roughly, crashing his lips against hers. And just like that, the world around him ceased to exist. There was only her. Only the taste of her lips, the scent of her skin, and the promise in her eyes.

She had long learned that lust was the quickest way to control him. It was almost effortless the way she could fill his mind with longing. And as Caracalla’s thoughts clouded over, drowned by his desire, he whispered, vulnerable, “You’ll stay with me forever?”

She smiled softly against his lips. “Always.”

And she meant it. There were worse things, after all, than being the possession of an emperor.

I have no idea if I would ever write a part 2 but I do have some ideas for it 🤔 I was reading about Claudia Acte who was the concubine of Emperor Nero and who may or may not have been a mime actress at one point (I only saw it mentioned on one website) but Nero at one point desired to marry her but she came from a lowly background. So Nero had a whole fake genealogy made up for her linking her to royalty and even bribed ex-consuls to be ready to swear to her royal bloodline but this angered his mother and she prevented the whole thing lol. But that just feels like something Caracalla would do with actress!reader and something that Geta would be forced to arrange because he would want to see his brother happy. So if I did write a sequel it would probably be something like that.

Do you guys remember that House of Gucci movie Lady Gaga was in? Well I was reminded of Patrizia Gucci saying "it's better to cry in a Rolls Royce than to be happy on a bicycle" and that's kinda the mindset I was going for with actress!reader. She's been torn away from her acting profession that she enjoyed, and she should be upset about it, especially since she's the object of obsession for an unhinged emperor and has been forced to essentially be his caretaker so Geta can get a break, but hey now she's got all this access to wealth and she has major influence over one of the most important men in the empire so what does it matter if she's often in the path of Caracalla's destruction? When life with Caracalla occasionally gets too rough, she'll just wipe her tears with a silk palla and then get another expensive one made after her tears stain it lol. Her life experiences have made her opportunistic but she does also truly care about Caracalla and does actually love him.

[mythals-whore]

Some thoughts on fandom engagement

Post got long but TL;DR engagement is low, Never Ever Stop Creating! fandom is community and everyone needs to participate

extended thoughts and personal anecdote under the cut:

For writers:

I have turned off Kudos emails from ao3. I found myself checking my email and feeling discouraged when I didn't get them. So i turned the emails off so I wouldn't know I wasn't getting them. Even now when I go to my dashboard, I specifically do not look at the bottom of the work to see those numbers.

This is not me telling you to do the same thing. It is easier said than done, and I understand that. But that's what I had to do to have a good time.

Because for a little while, posting made it less fun. I felt like people didn't like it. I was being overly critical of myself, couldn't write more than three sentences without feeling like I was garbage and my work was garbage and I should just quit. I would post a chapter and then immediately want to take the whole thing down. But then I realized...

I have about four half-finished projects in my WIP folder. I have written like 500,000 words that no one has ever read. Because I had fun doing it! Because I enjoy writing!!

And the point of this isn't to say writers shouldn't want or expect engagement. That is not at all what I'm saying!

What I am saying is that if you enjoy writing and you find that posting your work is making you feel unmotivated, discouraged, and you're not having fun anymore it is okay to take it down. It’s okay to make your work private for a while. It's okay to turn off Kudos emails or even comments. Whatever you need to do to make it fun again, do that. If you enjoy creating, please do not let the lack of engagement stop you!

It's been really helpful for me to find a community of creators! Without the support of @thedissonantverses @flowersforthemachines and @basedonconjecture I may have deleted my work months ago!

And that said, if you want someone to read your work, there are so many people (including and especially me) who would love to read and promote you! Participate in WIP Wednesday and Writing Weekend! Promote your own work!! Promote other creators' work! This is how we build community!

For readers:

If you love fanfic, and fanart and fandom in general engage with it. The urge to take down your work is real! And not unique to me! If writers don't get kudos or comments or replies on tumblr, they will delete their work. If there's a fic you find, and you enjoy it but you don't engage with it do not be surprised if you log on one day and it isn't there anymore. Or if it gets orphaned. Or if they simply stop updating it.

Fandom is meant to be a community. The whole purpose of it is to enjoy the things you enjoy with other people. If you're consuming free work (be that fanfic, fan art or something else) and you're not liking or reblogging or commenting then those people will stop sharing it.

And my personal take, while we're here: I do not get it.

I do not understand why there are people out there who do not jump at the chance to directly engage with authors and artists who make things that you enjoy. You can tell them personally how much you like their work! You can ask them questions! You can send them your unhinged ramblings on The Character.

And before anyone comes to my replies and says: I never know what to say ))):

Here is a non-comprehensive list of 10 slightly unhinged things that I've actually commented on fics (some edited for brevity)

I am chewing on glass.

bye i’m putting my fist through the wall 😭

These two are consuming my every waking thought

That ruined me i fear. I have passed away

THIS IS LITERATURE. absolutely tore my heart out.

You are sick in the head my friend

Im gonna sip on this sentence a while.🤌🏻

how could you do this to them? writing about this in my burn book brb

A) You absolutely cooked here B) how fucking dare you?

 kicking my feet and giggling!!!!!

And this isn't just for ao3/fanfic writers. Fanartists deserve love too! Artists love feedback!! The more unhinged the better!! Tell us we're evil! Quote our work back to us! Tell us you're smashing through walls like the Kool-aid man! Tell us that our work is making you scream and cry and blush!

No one is expecting you to leave several long paragraphs with an actual annotated review (not that that wouldn't also be welcome). Comment! Engage! Community is the whole point!

This also goes for finding Tumblr mutuals, by the way. If you want to make friends with people on here engage with their content! Like their posts! Reply to them! Send asks and messages!

Stop being afraid to enjoy things! That is like...all we are doing here.

[scoobydoodean]

i am a deangirl always have been and love him more than any other character … it’s hard to believe he was a WB/CBW character honestly. but there is one thing that really has always bothered me and it has to do with the treatment of bela in s3. i get that she screwed him and sam over for her own reasons (almost a proto cas in some ways i think) but his behavior towards her was so cold and sociopathic. i think of him learning about the origin of her demon deal ( sexual abuse by her father) and then surprising her in her room and when she looks scared of what he’s there for saying “don’t flatter yourself”— to a sexual abuse survivor?! then when she’s crying on the phone about being dragged to hell he’s like too bad you were such a bitch we could have helped you. this is the one time i really felt like he was being a horrible person. god knows he and sam have done horrible things because of circumstance. bela deserved better imo. im glad lauren got a better role elsewhere but it’s always felt very strange to me esp since usually dean has a lot of sympathy for people like her. s3 is weird in general with some of the most racist moments (isaac and tamara, victor being killed offscreen, gordon being gruesomely killed, the woman losing her teeth to the witch coven, etc) in the shows history but this has always really bothered me as a black woman and a survivor of sexual violence in particular in a dean characterization way. idk curious as to what you think

i think of him learning about the origin of her demon deal ( sexual abuse by her father) and then surprising her in her room and when she looks scared of what he’s there for saying “don’t flatter yourself”— to a sexual abuse survivor?!

This is an issue of confusing what the viewer knows with what Dean knows. Dean has no idea that Bela was sexually abused. He only knows her parents died suspiciously then she inherited a lot of money. He assumes that she killed her parents for personal gain because she has repeatedly presented herself to him as a person who does not care for others, has no sense of loyalty (even after Sam and Dean save her life, she nearly kills them twice), and will kill people and/or leave people to die for monetary gain.

From 3.15:

BELA You're not the cold-blooded type. DEAN You mean like you? That's true. See, I couldn't imagine killing my parents. BELA (Shocked but regrouping) I don't know what you're talking... DEAN Yes, you do. You were, what, 14? Folks died in some shady car accident. Police suspected a slashed brake line, but it was all too crispy to tell. Cut to little Bela...Oh, I'm sorry, Abby...inheriting millions.

We as viewers then see a flashback from Bela's perspective that implies Bela's sexual abuse, but what she tells Dean is:

BELA They were lovely people. And I killed them. And I got rich. I can't be bothered to give a damn. Just like I don't care what happens to you.

Dean could only have known about Bela's sexual abuse if she told him. Bela never told anyone. She wanted to be viewed by everyone around her as cold and uncompromising as stone.

RE: season 3 yeah there's a lot of WEIRD shit in there and some really gruesome shit that does feel disproportionately directed at black characters.

[agvstdr]

Bangchan 𐙚 at the club

summary: the richiest man in korea has his eyes set on you.

Im working at a private club, only open to those of higher power or lots of money. Im sitting on the lap of some rando who you had no interest in, grimacing at him as this is the last thing i would like to do.

You turn your head towards the door, hearing people gasp as Christopher Bang, the richest and most handsome in all South Korea, walks in with two women on both his arms.

I'd be lying if I said I wouldnt do anything for that man.

He looks down at me, smirking and running his fingers across my chin as he walks to his personal booth.

I continue to do my job with the man who just paid me, but I turn many times to mr bang, noticing that every time his gaze is on me, like the way me sitting on this random rich guy’s lap is pissing him off, like he hated seeing me like that with other men except himself.

when the rando is gone, I think my job is done but my boss approaches me and warns me that someone else has asked for me: Christopher Bang.

When I look at the man who just asked for my services I see him smirk at me, as if he can't wait for me to get close to him.

"hi mr bang." i Say smiling at him, feeling a Little anxious as this is the first time he asks for me

His eyes snap over to me, his dark gaze looking me up and down as i spoke to him. He smirks at my small smile.

“Hey.” His voice was deep and smooth and he pats the chair next to him, motioning for me to come sit with him.

I sit next to him, intimidated at being so close to such a powerful and handsome man.

"werent you with two girls?" i ask genuinely curious to know what happened to them

"oh them? just distraction while i was waiting for the prettiest girl in club." He chuckles, running a hand through his hair and leaning back against the booth. "And you? Who’s lap were you just sitting on, darlin’..?”

I feel my cheeks on fire and he laughs at my reaction

"don't know, he asked for a simple lap dance and i did It." i say shrugging like its no big deal, this is my job.

He nods his head, eyes narrowing as he takes a sip from his drink. He knows i do this for a living, it’s no shocker to him. But seeing it happen right in front of his eyes.. His jaw clenches so hard it could break.

“I know this is your job bit damn” He mutters, taking another long sip.

"Why did you ask about me with so many girls working here?"

"you're the prettiest here love, cant set for anyone else."

I smiled at him, not knowing how to react to such a compliment, even though my cheeks, which are still red, let him know that I appreciated what he said.

"what do you want mr bang?" i ask while sipping his drink while his eyes follow everything i do.

He licks his lips, his gaze still on me, unmoving. “I want so much..” He purrs, his hand slipping up my thigh, his touch burning on your skin even through your clothes.

"tell me, im here for your enjoyment."

"come sit." he orders

When I sit on his lap I can't think of anything except how nice it would be to kiss him.

He grins when i sit on his lap, his hand moving to my hips and gripping me tight, pulling me closer to him. His eyes were dark and lidded, staring into mine.

“That’s a good girl.” *He murmurs, his fingers gripping me tighter and slowly tracing up and down my bare thighs.*

"thanks mr bang" i say smiling while my hands are on his shoulders

“Mhm, of course..” He purred, closing his eyes and slightly leaning into my touch as i ran your fingers through his hair, a soft groan leaving his lips.

“You’re so good..” *He murmurs, his hand still gripping you tightly, moving you closer to him, closer to his clothed crotch

"you're just being too kind." I say reaching for a drink

He shakes his head while smirking.

"nah, im just saying the truth. you're the best in this club, the others cant even compete."

I never thought that a man like Christopher Bang could tell me things like this but here we are.

"Since you're so nice to me, I'll let you ask me a special request, do you have something in mind?"

He raised an eyebrow at my question, the dark gaze in his eyes becoming more lust filled.

"I want your lips on mine, baby." He whispered, his voice sending chills down your spine

I would do anything for this man, ANYTHING, but it would mean losing my job and I need the money, I can't risk it.

"i'd love to me bang, but the rules say no to kissing, i would get fired."

He groans, his grip on me getting even tighter.

"I’ll pay double your rate if you do."

I look at him speechless, expecting him to be joking. Paying double just for a kiss from me?

"double?"

He smiles, giving my thigh a little squeeze, his gaze on mine.

“Mhmmm. Double.” He purred, his hand moving up my hip, just barely under the edge of my little dress.

While we're here, why not have some fun?

"what about a triple?" i ask feeling shameless

"a triple it is." He answers without even thinking

How rich is he?

"Really? Are you willing to pay triple?"

He chuckles, his grip on me getting a little tighter, his hand moving from my hip to my stomach as he spoke.*

“Yes, really.” *He purred, his breath warm against my neck.* “its not a problem for me.”

"nobody will know it right? Or i will lose my job here."

“Nobody will know." He said that with a serious tone.

He would make sure no one knew this little secret between the both of you. He’s a man of his word, especially when he gets what he has his heart on.

I don't think twice about putting my lips on his, I would be stupid to miss an opportunity like this: kissing the famous Christopher Bang and receiving triple just to do it.

He groans against my lips when i kiss him, He pulls me as close to him as he could, his hand gripping my hip tight as he kisses me, his lips moving against yours hungrily.

He continue to kiss me hungrily, his tongue slipping past my lips and into my mouth. He seems so desperate for you, his touch possessive.

He holds me tight against him, like he was scared i could disappear as soon as he let me go.

we are interrupted by my boss, who after knocking on the private booth informs us that time is up.

"i gotta go." i say while I stand up, unfortunately having to leave his lap

"Thank you for accepting my request, nothing that happened will ever be exposed."

I smile at him, grateful to have his word. He gives me a quick hug and then walks out of the room, leaving me alone to think about what just happened.

A few days later, a bouquet of flowers and a gift containing a card were delivered to my dressing room at the club.

"This is a thank you for our moment, can I have the next kiss on a date?"

A smile appears on my face as big as I have ever had before, a smile that becomes even bigger when i realize that the triple pay he had promised me has arrived in my account.

so how can i say no to a date with him?

[ricottish]

made this drawing like 1-2 weeks ago and wanted to wait till I had his characterhub profile ready but got too impatient now LOL. there's another drawing im currently working on with him and James probably coming out tomorrow or somewhere during the week so have this for now.

yes Reese unironically uses the term 'normies.' It's the same guy who makes 'wow, cringe gonna drink bleach now!' jokes.

I'm saving the relationship chart thing for next post with him and the NWCC. Just gonna say, he hates Jaybird Haynes, and is intimidated by him at the same time. Doesn't verbally express it to him in fear of getting his ass kicked but just keeps his dislike towards Jaybird (kind of) subtle LOL.

that's it for now very small boring stuff but there'll be a lot more once I get his characterhub profile done. To be honest I feel like I made him a bit much of a strawman(?), despite him being based off a genre of 2016 art cringe comp youtubers I used to unfortunately watch, he's still also based off of my old 10-14 year old self/mindset. I still wanna try and flesh him out a bit. And have him try to improve as a person </3.

[sxprot]

Do a Vee x Reader where reader wins on her game show, and the prize is going on a date with her

ALL EYES ON ME!

Divider cred: animatedglittergraphics-n-more n cafekitsune

Note: Bro, yall are making my heart ache, cough cough a single person trynna write something romantic💔 failed miserably . I hope it makes sense for you, haha.

Tw: bad grammar, slight ooc

Vee x gn!reader

VEE:

Set up the prize. Besides, a date with the VEE isn't that bad; she knows how to make you smile and grin. So of course, when you won, her screen flashed a smile when she sees your eyes widen, surprised at the offer to go on a date with her.

Gloat to Astro about it. Of course, in Vee's eyes, you were nothing but nice, helping her whenever you spotted her form, scowling at any inconvenience errors.

Often seek bits of advice to impress you. Just some confidence there isn't that helpful, she needs more! Something that would make you go awe. A bit of a compliment would not do much, it's one of her weaknesses so far.

She doesn't like to see your smile twisting downward into a frown as a recoil to her backhanded compliment, the blunt of her words stab you through the chest.

But really, a simple date that needs so much thinking is a lot. To impress one another is already enough to make her screen buzz in annoyance, one wrong move could lead to another worse case scenario. Worst one is you ignoring her.

So Vee decided to make a small little gift, a lovely surprise box. With the help of the book club's members, she could only hope that you would like it.

"Hello." Vee greets "You look dazzling."

You stare at Vee as she gifts you the present, soon cupping your hands with her palms nervously. Who knows what's going on with her, the way she would lean back, straighten her bow before mimicking a cough.

But oh, the way Vee would sigh in relief when you smiled at her, thanking with such sincerity in your tone, such things overwhelm her to an extent. A bit of steam coming out of her head, but she would dismiss it when you show any concern about it.

Despite the date going well, the television worries about it. She isn't capable of human emotions, a lack of understanding of complex emotions. Behind a smile isn't always something positive, perhaps you took pity on her and went along with it.

Astro had to come to reassure her that she had done well for the first time.

But if you came back tomorrow, saying that the feeling is mutual. Who knows what awaits for you in the future?

Im sorry if its too ooc for your liking, you could request another if you aren't pleased with this;;;SIGHH Im worried

[ll7esxs]

Bored so wanna describe cod ghosts characters stans! IN MY OPINION AND VISION!

Logan walker stans:

Funny asf.

Post brain rot memes (hmu logan stans😔).

Probably relate to Logan’s quiet yet loyal nature a little too much.

Defend logan, like they will argue with anyone who disrespect logan.

Yapp and speak what is in their mind even if means fighting society.

"I can fix him"

Sucker for brotherhood The Hesh & Logan sibling dynamic is their favorite thing ever.

Hesh walker stans:

Golden Retriever Boyfriend Seekers, They love an extroverted, funny, protective guy.

Either have big brother or wanna a big brother like hesh

Biggest delulu minders (after keegan stans ofc)

Talkactive

They love to banter and never shut up.

They love the strong sibling bond between him and Logan, and will defend it with their life.

Some of em Will argue he’s the better Walker brother.

"He doesn't deserve this"

Some of em think elias not caring abt him

Keegan russ stans:

A cold, careless man barely speak they're obsessed.

“He’s So Babygirl” A grown ass man.

Love Keegan for his mask, quiet voice, and intimidating aura, but also think he’s secretly soft.

Love that Keegan is a stealth expert and probably smells like gunpowder and pine.

Hear his voice lines at 3 AM.

Put him in mw2 timeline what im playing lol

They would let Keegan ruin their life, no hesitation.

Think he is a green card.

Elias walker stans:

DILF Appreciators– You know why they’re here (and it’s not just because he’s a good leader).

No shame in loving a rugged, experienced leader with dad energy.

Admire Elias for being a great father, a skilled soldier, and a natural leader.

Yeah yeah they will defend anyone says otherwise.

Surprisingly they have no problems with rorke.

Want a whole game or DLC about young Elias and early Ghosts.

Love the fact that he raised two men to be ghosts.

Gabriel rorke stans:

The villians lovers ofc.

I Never understood them tbh

Half of them think elias is already wrong let go of him and half of them liking the fact that he is a vendetta character

Not even sorry about him kidanpped logan.

Also half of them like elias.

Love his accent, and the way he talk.

Think he deserves better.

Thomas merrick:

Love Merrick because he gives off strict but protective vibes.

Enjoys characters who take charge and don’t tolerate nonsense.

50% because of his voice.

They love leadership roles and high respect characters.

Less unhinged, but still down bad.

Kick stans:

There aren’t many of them

Love Kick because he’s tactical, no-nonsense, and cool under pressure.

Loves Underrated Characters – Enjoys the fact that Kick is in the background but still awesome.

Organized people idk.

The "Why Does No One Talk About Him?" Crew – They feel personally responsible for making sure Kick gets love.

“The main guys are cool, but this guy? Criminally underrated.”

Probably Read the Campaign Novelization – Just to find extra Kick content.

Ajax stans:

They are less than kick stans

Still mad that Ajax didn’t get enough screen time.

Love the characters who deserved more but got done dirty.

Have read or written fics where Ajax survives and thrives.

They are also keegan stans?

Riley stans:

The goats.

period.

[twstfanblog]

So, absolutely obsessed with the manwha au, its so good. But Im curious, is there anything that could have happened in the OG timeline that could snap the trio out of their hate-boners? Because I keep rereading the snipppet with little Malleus and Silver after the birthday party, and the thought came to me? What if, Silver started to draw away from Malleus at any point in their lives? What if, after hearing Malleus bellyache so much regarding Yuu, Silver starts to internalize the idea that humans just arent good enough for the Crown Prince Malleus, and grows distant from him as a result? Malleus is a smug, arrogant little lizard, but I feel if anyone could get him to take a step back, do some critical thinking and realize "Hey, Ive been a total dick", it'd be his baby brother

Hehehe once the Period Drama series are done, the Manhwa AU will have my full attention.

Silver does pull away anyway in the OG Timeline. But that was mainly because he became Malleus's retainer and he tried to be more professional.

Malleus just adored Silver since he first saw him, so he's never spoken a negative word on Silver past pouting about him falling asleep in the middle of his gargoyle discussions. Malleus is also shit talking EVERYONE who isn't Lilia or Silver. Not even his fae tutors are safe from his little ego.

Silver also never understood why Malleus disliked Yuu because they were basically the same person in his eyes; spoiled brats who were only civil with their favored people, and Yuu adored Malleus. Not so much internalized dislikement, but just "Hey, what's wrong with you? She's like your weird human, not really doppelganger?"

Half the issue is them keeping their rose-tinted glasses on about Cindy. Mostly because it's not just Yuu who questioning them about their relationship. Which they take as their families taking Yuu's side against them, so they double down.

I may talk more on Azul and Jamil's feelings in the OG Timeline. Or even the 'True OG Timeline'; the story that the Manhwa AU was twisted from that I thought up.

[nyxtickled]

Fucking hell, Nyx. I have down-shifted my presence on here significantly lately (only tangentially relevant tl;dr: it turns out that the added mental bandwidth from my ADHD meds is not the only thing I need in order to be a good member of a kink community, and I am still working on the rest) so it took me a minute to get caught up, but I have now.

I am really fucking sorry that Socal put you through all of this extremely unhinged, unnecessary, sociopathic shit; I am really fucking glad you had the receipts ready to unload; and I am really really fucking amazed at your fortitude, both in carrying it mostly in silence as long as you did, and in opening up about all of it. I obviously also wish you hadn't had to do either of those things, but that's not news. I reiterate: fucking hell. 😞

(Incidentally: he was the pissant, penny-ante troglodyte shitheel, wasn't he? Your answers to other asks implied you knew who the main anon hater was, and that you'd taken some distance from them. It deserves mentioning that that was the same fucking guy. If someone wrote a character that toxic on an HBO show, people would say it was unrealistic. Fucking hell. 🤮)

I've always felt two ways about sharing community hygiene posts because my blog is tiny and I legitimately can't see that it matters (though I do it anyway) but I also saw the one that said "reblog that shit no matter the size of your blog" so I guess I'm done feeling two ways about it. Do you mind if I add a couple of my own thoughts when I do? They feel really inconsequential, because I have not dealt with anything even remotely like this, but I think I saw a reply saying you appreciated other people's perspectives, so I dunno.

Either way. I am glad you're here and that you continue to be here despite All Of The God-Damned Fucking Bullshit. The community is better for it. I am very evidently not the only one who feels that way, either. Go hug your wife and cuddle your dog and gather some spoons. 🖤

hey there, my dear beloved Thing 💖 it’s so great to hear from you! and i appreciate your empathy and support, very very much.

(incidentally: your suspicion is absolutely indeed on par with mine. the first time i ever received anon hate was during the screenshot fallout i shared when my dog got sick, as i was ignoring his calls and receiving walls of toxic texts from him. the second time was during the additional screenshot fallout i shared when the AUNT convo went down. the next time was after i got married, when i wasn’t speaking to him anymore. and, ever since i ended the connection entirely, ive been getting sporadic anon hate from the same person who just keeps trolling about me “cheating” since im married now etc. lmao, it’s just, the timing??? is way too fucking suspicious and it makes me laugh every single time i think abt it)

i am always open to anyone sharing their thoughts and perspectives! you’re more than welcome to add anything you want to a rb.

thank you for being here. the overwhelming response has been so validating and healing bc i legit only wanted to look out for others, and i’m so grateful that it was received in the way i intended. 💜

[noirsdoll]

hum..hii, im kinda shy to ask about it but huh hear me out about Daisuke non-con bestfriend!reader after she acted like a brat with him when he had a really bad day..i imagined more of an on earth/college au but if you prefer writing on a tulpar au im totally okay with it!! I just love daisuke sm and im tired of everyone writing him like a subby twink..💔 have a good day mwah :3

REAL!! death to twink!daisuke like being naive ≠ twink, naive just means he's a dumbass. I think abt how jimmy influences him in the game a lot… also a college au is so fun to think about omg this is so long

cw/tags: noncon, mentioned abuse and drugging (not by daisuke), incel!daisuke and perv!daisuke, daisuke is a porn addict, accidental creampie, college au, daisuke is jimmy-pilled, vivziepop levels of swearing LMAO

Daisuke isn’t a bad guy.

In fact, he’s the shoulder to cry on, the ray of sunshine, and the hopeless but very enthusiastic tutor. That’s his reputation on campus— the nice guy that you can come to with anything, who’s always ready and willing to strike up a conversation.

You’re his closest friend, the first person that bothered to look his way on this sprawling campus. He’s stuck to you like an unfortunate parasite and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You’re both inseparable.

Daisuke and you are sitting on the grass outside one of the faculty buildings during the one break you both share. He’s staring up at the partly cloudy sky, letting the cold spring air run flush against his skin.

“Did you hear what happened at the big party last night?” You ask, too eager to wait for a response before you continue, “that Jimmy guy, like, roofied some poor girl.”

He glances at you, confused. “Jimmy? Nah, he’s not like that.”

“What, you know him?”

Daisuke talks to the older years fairly often. Jimmy’s one of the cooler ones— meaning he has a motorcycle and he let Daisuke take it for a spin once. So at least the guy’s not all bad. A nine on the Daisuke Friend Scale. You’re the ten, of course.

He just shrugs. “We’ve talked once or twice, yeah. But there’s no way he— are you sure?”

Your expression falters. “Uh, yeah, he did. There’s bruises and everything.”

“Some girls like that sort of thing.” Jimmy explained it all to him— the right way to choke, how to leave bruises that stung but faded quick, not to mention to always go for girls with uncovered drinks because it showed their open body language.

You frown and change the subject, but Daisuke’s still dwelling on it. Asking Jimmy about it later proves that he’s even better at shifting gears— he just dangles his keys in front of Daisuke’s eyes and suddenly Daisuke’s more than content to stop pressing.

There’s no way you’re telling the truth. A guy like Jimmy doesn’t need to do all that to fuck a girl. She must’ve just gotten more than she bargained for. 

Sure, Daisuke’s never actually done it before, it being sex, but he’s watched more than enough porn to figure it out. Girls in porn always seem to look like they enjoy it, they moan and cream and squirt as they get their asses and faces slapped red. 

Daisuke would probably get more play if he wasn’t such a nice guy. Jimmy has that bad boy persona going for him, Daisuke just gets friendzoned. Knowingly or not, he starts to learn from Jimmy.

That’s what he’s thinking about while at this party. He’s been unable to peel himself away from all the people that want to talk to him, it’s a miracle that he breaks out of the crowd long enough to get to you. You’re hugging the wall, no one to talk to but him. You don’t make friends very easily and Daisuke’s more than willing to fill in the gaps.

You offer a smile, a half-full solo cup dangling from one hand. Daisuke has to pause when you lock eyes. That dress makes you look like sin, he has to pick up his jaw from where he dropped it. Sure you’re both just friends, but Jimmy said that girls become friends with guys because they like them— and you seem to like him enough.

His pick-up lines and plans of attack all fade away the closer he gets to you, until all that’s rattling around in his head is the thought of you. What you’re wearing under that dress, what position is your favourite— normal things to be thinking about your best friend.

“Do you want to get out of here?” He asks, tugging on his collar.

Daisuke watches your shoulders settle, the anxiety sweeped away. “Thought you’d never ask,” you grin, downing the rest of the drink and taking his hand.

Instead of guiding you back to his extremely unsexy Jeep, he takes you deeper into the house, away from the mass of milling party-goers and towards an empty bedroom.

“Uh, Daisuke, where are we going?” You chuckle nervously.

He glances over at you. “Just getting some privacy.”

“Okay.” You say, not much else on your mind as you take a seat on the bed together.

You flop down against the mattress, laying sideways along the bed. You must not notice how your dress is riding up and Daisuke doesn’t have the heart to comment on it. Are you like those porn girls? Are you?

Your hand moves into his field of view as you tug your dress down and sit up. Fuck, you caught him. You lean closer, enough to pillow your cheek on his shoulder. “...Daisuke? What’s up with you? You’ve been acting weird all night.”

“Ah, I dunno. Guess I’ve just got a lot on my plate.” 

“Yeah? What are you thinking about?”

He looks at you, his eyes dragging down, down, all the way to your tits. Daisuke glances back up. “I uh, like you.”

You blink at him, the silence feels deafening. Daisuke’s brain catches up with his words and he starts to panic. Floundering, he leans in and kisses you.

Your hands brace on his chest and you make a confused noise. He just crowds you against the mattress, feeling his dick growing unbearably hard. He pulls back, blood pounding in his ears. Holy shit. He can’t believe he just did that.

You let out a shaky breath, blinking at him. “I don’t think I like you like that, Daisuke. I like us as friends, you know?”

Yeah, he knows. He was hoping something would change. His hand slides up your calf to your knee, pushing your legs apart to allow him between them. “Just once? Can we… just once?”

“What? No, Daisuke, I just said—”

“I deserve it.”

“Excuse me?” Your chest rises and falls heavier. You’re scared.

What would Jimmy say? What would he do? How does Daisuke course correct? “You’re just so beautiful. I want to touch you.” Shit, he sounds like a fucking creep.

You sit up on your elbows, moving to get up. “You’re drunk or something. Let me get you some water.”

He needs to take control of this situation. Daisuke plants his arms on either side of you, one hand lifting to cup your pussy through your underwear. You freeze, looking up at him. “I won’t hurt you. Just let me–”

“I am not letting you have shit! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” You try to weasel away from him, but he still tugs your underwear down in the struggle of flailing legs.

This is his chance. He’s already fucked up the friendship, what’s the worst thing that can happen next? Your underwear has a little wet spot in the center. Maybe you do want him— you just can’t admit it.

Daisuke can’t help himself, pressing his body to yours, his hand slipping through your pussy lips as you wriggle and squirm. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he whispers, sliding down his pants and pressing his cock into you.

You grit your teeth. “God, Daisuke, what the fuck?” You’re crying, looking up at him with your eyes full of betrayal.

But he’s in his own world now. “You’re so pretty. So pretty. Needed to put my dick in you– fuck—,” he gasps, his hips pressing flush to yours. 

It’s so much better than how he could have ever imagined pussy ever feeling. How do those guys in porn not bust immediately? You’re wet and warm, squeezing him tight in the midst of your panic.

“Daisuke, please,” you beg, voice shaking with each thrust into you. In a different context— the one Daisuke’s imagining— it would have turned him on. You want him. You’ve always wanted him.

If he was ever listening over the course of your friendship, he’s definitely not now. He buries his face in your shoulder, moaning airy praises as he fucks into you like a dog. Shallow, abrupt thrusts as he tries and fails to get used to the stimulation.

Lucky for you, it hardly lasts more than a couple of minutes before his dick slides out of you, cum-covered. He watches the added realization wash over your face.

“Daisuke, fuck, please tell me you didn’t—” You scramble back, the creampie leaking out of you and staining the sheets. All the evidence you need of what he’s done to you.

He tries to get closer. “I’m sorry, shit, I— What can I do—?” 

“Don't come near me," you spit and Daisuke knows the friendship is well past over.

He’ll still dream about you, fuck his fist to you. You can’t stop him from doing that.

[elainsgirl]

The fandom hasn’t been this much of a mess since 2021. I’m still here mostly because I feel like the announcement is coming soon and at this point I’ve been around too long to just dip.

But man, seeing gwynriels mock the elriels who left actually has me seething. Acting like they’re just too sensitive for fandoms or scared their ship is sinking. Like, really? People can’t even leave without getting dragged? It’s like they can’t turn off the ship war mindset for five seconds and realize that real people were actually hurt. Instead they just make fun of them on their way out. It’s messed up. And the worst part is that the wrong people are leaving. Like I get why, but it’s always the kind ones who go. How many times is this gonna happen? I’ve seen so many good people leave over the years and many never came back.

This week sucked ass. Easily one of the worst since the 2021 chaos. So many who joined the fandom after silver flames just have no decency. I just feel weirdly empty now. We really need that announcement.

A fandom is meant to be a space of fun. A space where you can shut off from real life issues & problems - and simply enjoy, stressfree for a while whether that’s through creating content or simply consuming it. Obviously it will be inevitable that some real life issues filter through into fandoms, however it should always be talked about with empathy, caution and care - so those that are affected or going through these issues aren’t so triggered.

That side were simply not mature enough to handle such heavy topics. Their posts were careless and triggering. Any sane, normal person would be able to understand why people are upset and leaving. I think lately, I’ve really come to the realisation that antis do not see elriels as real life people who are going through our own struggles. As you perfectly put it -(and a phrase I will now be using so thanks anon) it seems as though most antis cannot turn off their shipwar mindsets for a minute to look past and understand how these sort of heavy topics are very disturbing. Each post they made this past week about the issue/article basically went

“Yh no sure the article was wrong…but like, its just an opinion and tbf the author did write it as such where people would y’know bring up Elain not having the right anatomy…so blame Sjm and not the readers/journalist and…like, its not a big thing - elriels have said so much worse! And honestly…they’re just mad bcs the point make sense and they can’t deal with that. It was nothing to make such a big deal about”

I know this might come across as mean but, you know when a young teenager or even child enter spaces meant for more mature adults - they dont understand or grasp on how to communicate with the conversations going on in that space. They just end up blabbering and saying dumb stuff, missing the point. THAT is how antis have acted this past week.

You know, Im going to be real with you. Everytime I think antis can’t go any lower then they already have - every time they prove me wrong. Who and why is anyone creating posts & making fun about those leaving due to feeling triggered? Its just immature and pathetic. People have a life outside of the shipwars, something most antis won’t know about. I feel like most of them are consumed within the shipwars and its the centre of their lives.

You’re so right anon. The wrong people are leaving. The people that make the fandom a better, brighter place that have put nothing out but positivity. Its sad to see them go but hopefully they’ll be back once we finally get something about the next book.

Im convinced most who joined after SF - its either their first fandom experience or most of them are just attention seekers. At this point, I simply have stopped caring about anything fandom related, you’re right. I also feel empty and tired - just done with this fandom but Im just praying we get an announcement soon. Match preferably - we need something new to create a positive buzz again.

[canideformed]

Hey I am transfem. Your friends might think one way but I am sorry they are not the voice of the transfem community. I am personally made incredibly uncomfortable when transmascs target other transmascs and the way they discuss their oppression under the guise of doing it “for” transfems, because, if I’m honest, I’ve faced way more transmisogyny and exorsexism and intersexism from people who have the viewpoints you’re espousing than from people who talk about transandrophobia.

I’ve had people tell me I didn’t understand the people around me and that I was going to “get hurt” if I “kept hanging out with” transmascs. I said hey, maybe don’t talk to a woman that way, maybe acting like a woman doesn’t understand the world around her and will inevitably be victimised by the “evil men” she’s friends with is. Really sexist and infantilising. And it was 100% ignored. They told me they “hoped I learned before I got hurt.”

I’ve also had intersexists interrogate me about my medical history so they can determine whether I am “really” transfem, as if that’s something that would ever be up to them. (And not that it matters, but when they inevitably decide to “allow” me to “be transfem,” they still treat my intersex status as basically inconsequential to my overall Transfem Status, which is very much inaccurate and erases my intersex identity and experiences).

I’ve also had these people tell me I was a “non-man” when I directly identify as both a man and a woman. And then when I’ve claimed that, no, I am a man, I’m just also a woman, they’ve tried to say I’m still a “non-man” because I’m “nonbinary” (a word I do NOT use or at all like for myself).

At least ime transmascs who talk about transandrophobia tend to be much more aware and thoughtful when discussing oppression, they don’t condescend and infantilise me for being transfem, they don’t force me into a “non-woman” or “non-man” box, and they don’t ask me for personal details of my medical history.

Whenever transmisogyny HAS popped up, the transandrophobia theorists around me (at the very least) have ALWAYS been very good about shutting it down and calling it out. And yet I’ve seen fellow transfems accusing them of being “bitchy transmascs who can’t even support each other” literally for calling out and refusing to tolerate transmisogyny spread by other transmascs. Like I’m sorry but if the people you’re saying are supposed to support me actively punish transmascs for calling out transmisogyny… maybe those aren’t the people who legitimately want the best for transfems as a whole. Maybe those are the people who all agree with one specific ideological framework and who try to punish anybody who disagrees, even if they are actively working to call out transmisogyny and even if they are transfem themselves.

There are some transmisogynists out there, but by and large they are NOT supported by the rest of the community or, if they are, they are very open to being corrected by a kind voice (which I have done, multiple times!).

I’m also just. Not sure what you mean when you say transmascs deny trans women’s experiences of oppression. Transmascs talking about transandrophobia and their own experiences say nothing about trans women and fems and their experiences. Ex. a non-passing trans man talking about how he doesn’t experience male privilege says NOTHING about any trans woman. It only says something about him individually.

what does the "proud transandrophobe" in your bio mean?

"transandrophobia" is the belief that trans men are specifically oppressed for being men/masculine and the "transandrophobia" community often uses this belief to undermine and/or outright deny trans women's experiences with oppression and transmisogyny. its a dumb term that links back to the idea of "misandry" / male oppression. as a transmasc person with real life transfemme friends that i love and care for i find the "transandrophobia" community and its terminology distasteful. calling myself a "proud transandrophobe" is just a joke i put in to have that community steer clear from my blog lol