#but at the same time she's like. playing. and humans are just too fragile to last as playthings

[confused-stars]

It's that time again where I want to write a faerie horror story because I'm filled with spite at all the fae romance where they're just. basically feudal Twilight vampires

[zepskies]

Wanderlust

Pairing: Soldier Boy (Ben) x F. Reader

Summary: Your wandering hands are keeping Ben up at night.

AN: My nightly daydreams led me to Soldier Boy this time. 😂

I was imagining the Break Me Down-verse for this one (shortly after Checkerboard), but it can also be general Soldier Boy x Reader.

Word Count: 650

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Fluff, innuendo, Sleepy Ben, implied smut.

You traced down his back with light, trailing fingers.

Lying next to him in bed, with scraps of moonlight filtering through the closed blinds in the window as your only guide, your mind was still drifting even though you should’ve been sleeping.

You couldn’t help yourself.  

You drew invisible patterns across his bare skin. Ben was warm, always warm, even though the AC was making the room almost frigid. You knew it was the ever-present radiator in his chest that made him your own personal heater.

You propped your head up better with an elbow on your pillow as you laid on your side. You then let your hand drift over every dip of muscle between his shoulders, every small freckle you knew just from memory, then down and down his spine.

You flirted with the idea of inching down the sheets, where his bare ass would greet you. From there, you supposed you'd decide what wandering direction your hand took next.

“If you don’t go to sleep,” his deep voice rumbled, “I’m gonna wake up and fuck you again.”

You bit your lip against a giggle, but you didn’t quite succeed.

“It sounds like you’re already awake,” you remarked.

Ben grumbled incoherently in response. He was tired, you knew. He’d just come back from a week-long mission with Butcher and Co. for Supe Affairs. Hence the long night you two spent catching up.

If you were honest, you were still tingling between your legs. Your thighs and ass were a little sore too. Likely they’d be sporting a few fingerprints tomorrow.

You didn't mind it so much though. You two now had a safe word for that kind of thing.

You smirked, sifting your fingers through his hair. It was getting long again. Maybe you’d trim it for him tomorrow, since you both had the weekend off.  

Your hand meandered down the back of his neck, just to begin dragging your nails up and down the slope of his back.

“What does that feel like to you?” you asked curiously. You often wondered how much his invulnerability affected the way he felt things, especially the way you touched him.

“Like a tease,” he muttered.

You applied some more pressure with your nails. Not the way you’d scored his back about an hour ago, when he’d had his sinful mouth all over your body, but enough to be more than a tease. Enough that it would’ve left an angry, red trail on your own “fragile” human skin.

Still, you weren’t able to leave any marks on him. Just a faint whiteness of pressure against his skin that soon returned to normal when you moved your hand away.

“How about that?” you asked.

“Like you’re playing with fucking fire,” Ben said, though you heard the smirk in his voice. “Go to sleep.”

You smiled too.

“We'll pick this up in the morning,” he made sure to add, though he was already halfway back to slumber, from the sound of it.

“Oh, I’m sure,” you said, laughing lightly. You leaned over and pressed a soft kiss against his shoulder. “G’night, babe.”

“Mhmm,” he responded.

He groaned deep in his throat and turned over onto his back. Your smile remained as your body tensed in anticipation, but all he did was slide an arm under your waist and curl you towards him, trapping you against his chest. His hand splayed against your lower back, heavy and warm.

His lips brushed your hair away from your forehead and lingered there. He closed his eyes and let out a deep exhale. You did the same, relaxing against him. Your hand came to rest against the steady thrum of his heart.

Moments like this with him still managed to surprise you…but admittedly, less and less the longer you lived and shared together.

A girl could get used to it though.

AN: Lol should she have pressed her luck? Let me know what you think of this one! 😉💚

Keep Reading in the BMD-verse:

Next we have a fun, fluffy, angsty, smutty, 3-part Christmas special, Love Actually:

Summary: Ben gets in late on Christmas Eve with a Grinch-like attitude, but you’re determined to force some holiday cheer into his system. At least, you hope you can, before he meets the rest of your dysfunctional family on Christmas Day.

▶️ Next Story: Love Actually

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Break Me Down Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

BMD Tag List (Part 1):

Including the BMD tag list on this, since that's what my heart was imagining. 😂

@deans-spinster-witch @this-is-me19 @waynes-multiverse @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @spalady26

@spnwoman @syrma-sensei @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @muhahaha303 @123passwort

@mrsjenniferwinchester @lyarr24 @xoxovienna @lollag0w0 @globetrotter28

@nancymcl @ashbatz @vavafaure1994 @kristophalis @wonderland2022

@emily-winchester @shelh93 @sl33pylilbunny @spoonmynoodle @chernayawidow

@buckybarnes-1917 @asgardprincess97 @sometimes-i-sing @itsyellow @theonlymaninthesky

@kimberleymjw @is-this-a-febreze-commercial @iamsapphine @sanscas @se-fucking-hun

@lassie-bird @jessjad @yepimthatperson @fromcaintodean @stoneyggirl2

@spnfamily-j2 @im-a-slut-for-fluff @lacilou @venicesem @mimaria420

@tearsfortheyouth @agalliasi @chriszgirl92 @kazsrm67 @deansbbyx

[khattikeri]

one of my favorite things about mdzs is that for how heavily its plot involves politics of classism and misogyny... even the characters most directly impacted by it can't and don't free themselves from it. literally the closest exception is mianmian.

meng yao being the "son of a whore" wasn't some sort of commie awakening for him that led him to wanting everyone to be socially equal. he played the political game, climbed the ladders, sucked up to and backstabbed and murdered people, including other prostitutes who actually had nothing to do with how he and his mother were treated at the brothel he grew up in.

he put in so much extra excessive effort for even a fraction of the same respect that members of gentry cultivation clans got. and he did deserve to be treated more humanely! but he feeds into the exact same system that created him, leading to his own undoing.

his efforts were for a fragile upward mobility that was never going to hold up. he never surpassed his origins nor did he empower others in similar stations, because the society he lives in is not one that would accept that.

the second he got caught and all those crimes exposed, he was scapegoated to hell and back, replacing wei wuxian as society's terrible one-sidedly evil boogeyman overnight.

speaking of not-quite male gentry, i think it's interesting that wei wuxian explicitly doesn't try to climb the ladders in BOTH lives, knowing full well that anything he does will be punished just for the sheer fact that he is wei wuxian.

wei wuxian is scolded for giving intelligent and correct answers in school. lan wangji does the same and is praised.

wei wuxian occasionally lounges around with fellow disciples and is punished. jiang cheng does the same and mostly escapes.

wei wuxian refuses to carry his sword around in public (after losing his golden core, which nobody knows) and is scorned as an arrogant upstart. nie huaisang has been doing the EXACT SAME THING for YEARS and nobody bats an eye.

unlike jin guangyao, wei wuxian knew subconsciously from the start that his acceptance was superficial and that he could be cast out any time. when he was 10 and recently taken in by the jiangs, he canonically would not eat or use "too much" food and water because he thought they'd find him a nuisance for "wasting their things" and kick him back out.

now away from just the classism, yu ziyuan is a proud and strong noblewoman in a society that belittles and derides women for everything they do. her strong cultivation doesn't matter. she's victim to the vicious rumors of her husband loving another woman who is strong like her but apparently had a more likeable personality.

it doesn't matter even if jiang fengmian didn't cheat or that wei wuxian is wei changze's son with cangse sanren; yu ziyuan can't bear with the humiliation of herself (and by extension her children) not being "good enough". she's ridiculed for "failing" in that one duty as a wife, mother, and woman.

she lashes out and takes out that anger on everyone present for years, giving her children lasting trauma and also being a key element in how the jiang family and yunmeng jiang sect are effectively wiped out at the hands of the wen clan.

madam jin doesn't even have a name outside of the fact that she's married to jin guangshan. i don't even remember reading anything that indicates if she's a strong or weak cultivator, or what, which in itself proves that to most people, it doesn't matter. she's "just" a woman.

of course she's angry at her husband's affairs and all the bastard children they bring in. but she also can't do anything about them, so she lashes out at the few people she can: servants. non-cultivators, probably. those very same bastard children.

shoutout to meng yao getting shoved down a flight of stairs at age fourteen, because if madam jin tried that move against her husband instead, it would make her lose even more face, which as a noblewoman she'd never do.

and that's not getting into how jiang yanli is consistently sidelined for being physically weak.

that's not getting into how mianmian was actually a good cultivator, but was mocked by everyone around her for trying to stand up for wei wuxian when everyone was turning on him. how everyone scoffed at luo qingyang's words as "just some lovesick woman" who "obviously wants to marry or bed him since he saved her".

luo qingyang is the only one of these characters who HASN'T died. she didn't play society's games like jin guangyao. she didn't dig her heels in confidence of her own abilities like wei wuxian.

she didn't bitterly lash out like yu ziyuan and madam jin. she didn't gently accept it like jiang yanli.

she just LEFT.

she married an ordinary merchant and cultivates separately from mainstream cultivation society, and therein found her own peace and happiness.

mxtx doesn't bother with particularly class conscious or feminist vocabulary to hand-hold readers into understanding these disparities, but that choice highlights them & the deeply entrenched politics of their society even more. i really love it.

[yuri-is-online]

Without Saying (Floyd and Ruggie x Yuu)

"Oh can I help you? You seem to be lost." You attempt to cheerfully ask the vaguely familiar looking person in front of you. As if he is deliberately trying to rub salt in your wounds, Crowley ignored your request to leave campus for NRC parents day and is instead making you and Grim run errands. The person in front of you, blissfully ignorant to your inner turmoil perks up at your attention.

"Forgive me for asking, but are you the magicless prefect?" You and Grim exchange a confused glance. "You've got to be right?" They're practically glowing with how happy they are to see you. " Oh I'm sorry, I've just heard so much about you!" Wait, what?

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, feral ariel (Floyd) vs light angst again (Ruggie). If you liked this please check out the previous parts on my masterlist.

Floyd

Under normal circumstances, a quiet Floyd was a suspicious Floyd but today- well today it was just odd. He doesn't look bored per se, just idle standing next to a very tall woman with similarly colored hair who is slowly, carefully, with extreme focus examining every inch of what you think is a novelty piggy bank shaped like the school's wishing well.

"Are you done yet Mamma?" Floyd sounds like he is being careful not to yawn.

"Hush now Floydie," she doesn't even blink, that's how tight her focus is, "Mamma is concentrating." Mrs. Leech's lips are tightly pursed while Floyd mutters something about going to get some candy and slinks off while you question if getting involved in this conversation is part of your job description or even smart. Unfortunately for you by the time you look back up from your clipboard Mrs. Leech has moved directly in front of your face in complete silence. "Human-" you go to scream but she silences you with a look you can't tell is from magic or practice raising the twins "Human can you help me with something?" She doesn't even wait for you to agree before holding up the piggy bank. "What exactly is the purpose of this object?"

"That?" You are surprised your voice doesn't give out entirely as she vigorously nods. "The piggy bank?"

"I see, I see." She nods sagely, immediately whipping around to where she evidently thought her son still was, shrugging undeterred as she decides to simply yell. "FLOYD! IT'S CALLED A PIGGY BANK."

"That's nice Mamma." Calls Floyd, oddly coming off as polite and rational from somewhere deep within the Mystery Shop. " But like what does it do?"

"EXCELLENT QUESTION! Say human what does it do?" You are deeply tempted to say that this woman cannot be serious but you don't really want to find out. You draw yourself up to your full height and nod.

"You put coins in it." Mrs. Leech blinks, a bit taken aback.

"Wait really?" Bravely, with a reasonable fear of being bitten, you reach over and gently lift up the top of the wishing well to show her the coin slot.

"I'm pretty sure this one plays a song when you put a coin in too." You explain.

"But it's so tiny?" She marvels, repeatedly opening and shutting the top of the bank. "How're you supposed to keep your money safe if it's so fragile? But then again I do keep most of mine with my husband..."

"Uhm it's supposed to be a fun gift for little kids." It occurs to you that she might find that offensive since it did look like she was buying it for herself. "To teach them about saving money, at least where I'm from anyway."

"Oh how cute. That settles it, I am definitely getting this." As if sensing that it is check out time Floyd shuffles over and immediately perks up.

"Little Shrimpy! Were you the one helping my mom?" He seems really happy, causing you to breathe a light sigh of relief. Mrs. Leech looks confused, zeroing in on you with the same concentration from earlier.

"Yeah. Trying to anyway." You nervously say; Mrs. Leech's attention turns to her son.

"Aww, how cute. You fishin' for a favor shrimpy?" Normally you would play along with his teasing, but your eyes dart awkwardly to Mrs. Leech whose attention is back on you, then the piggy bank, then you then her son, then you agai-

"Not really, I'm just trying to do my job." You awkwardly laugh and Floyd pouts.

"Spring or Summer?" Mrs. Leech asks cheerfully. To your surprise she has somehow managed to snatch up a second piggy bank within the .2 seconds since you took her attention off her.

"I'm sorry?"

"Oh just wondering that's all." She has a very serene smile on her face. Almost too serene. Like you just somehow signed away your soul because you didn't read some fine print. "I'm more partial to Spring myself." You try to look to Floyd for some context but for some reason, he's refusing to make eye contact. Weird.

Ruggie

"Thank you dear." The elderly beastwoman breathes a sigh of relief as you help her settle onto a bench next to the Coliseum. "Goodness, Ruggie warned me this place was big but I didn't realize just how serious he was." You nod, unscrewing the cap on one of the water bottles you brought with you for the old lady. She takes it thankfully and you breathe a gentle sigh of relief, not that Granny Bucchi had been anything more than a bit winded when you found her, but it was still worrying to see an old woman bent over like that. "I really should have just waited for him."

"Didn't he promise to meet you at the mirror chamber?" You ask, trying not to sound too judgmental. You find it hard to believe someone who spoke as fondly of his grandmother at Ruggie wouldn't want to escort her around, Granny Bucchi looks at you sheepishly sort of confirming that.

"He doesn't actually know that I'm here just yet, I wanted to surprise him." She tries to pass you back the water back but you shake your head. The two of you lapse into a comfortable silence, the sort you only ever get while relaxing with a cup of tea, or in this case a nice old lady who is genuinely enjoying the campus scenery. It's so nice Grim curls himself up into your lap for a little nap. Granny Bucchi scratches just the right place behind his ears to convince the "not a cat" to let out a very cat like purr.

"Did you send him a message to let him know your here?" You whisper, trying not to wake your baby. "If not I can send him one." She lets out a small laugh, similar in sound to her grandson's but still very much her somehow.

"Oh I am sure he'd be half way here already if he knew I had you to myself. Who knows what sort of ideas I could be putting in that head of yours." She winks and takes out her phone, squinting at the keys trying to piece together a message. "You should still send him one though, you'll probably be faster than me."

"Do you mind if I take a picture?" You ask sheepishly. "You know so Ruggie knows you're ok." Lies you just want a picture of you with Granny Bucchi. Sure, to Twisted Wonderland she is just some lady, but she is easily celebrity tier to you with how much glowing praise Ruggie heaps on her.

"Oh please do!" To your surprise she seems genuinely excited and strikes a little pose. What a natural, Vil has nothing on this woman. Not that you are going to say that out loud because you don't have a death wish. You happily text Ruggie as Granny Bucchi looks on fondly. "Do you like taking pictures?" Her voice is much softer than it has been in the admittedly little conversation you have had. "Ruggie sends me a lot of the ones you've given him from your ghost camera, I keep trying to ask him if you're planning on being a photographer in the future but he always dodges the question." She's clearly curious and you can't blame her, you just aren't sure how to answer.

"The future is a bit complicated for me." Is what you settle on, really hoping it doesn't loose you points.

"Oh you don't need to feel bad about that." Her eyes are filled with warmth and affection that you haven't felt in a long time, it's enough to make you want to cry. "Technically the future is complicated for everyone, some of us just muscle through it better than others. Case in point." Granny hauls her self up and nudges you to turn around. Ruggie is staring at both of you with a strange look in his eyes, but when he makes eye contact with you he shakes himself out of whatever mood that was and jogs up to meet you both.

It would be nice, you think, if you could do this again.

[sethvzekiel]

141 + könig x cold! squadmate

gn! reader. lowkey inspired by widowmaker from overwatch, mostly platonic unless you squint. reader is very close to laswell in a platonic way + set backstory.

reader x price, gaz, ghost, soap, and 141! konig bc bias. messed with the timeline a little in post-mwii but they’re still 141 and recruited konig. 3k words.

part 2 here.

warnings: canon-typical violence mention. strong language.

callsign is azrael but only mentioned once or twice.

  price

Azrael. Angel of death. What the hell did you do to get a callsign like that? Price was almost afraid to ask — if it’s anything like Ghost’s callsign, it can’t be a happy story.

Your file was almost entirely blacked out, but the scant few that he could read was impressive, if not bloody. Laswell always called on you for her most delicate tasks, plenty of it related to human trafficking and stealth operations. You’re not tied to a single company, more a solo merc than a soldier among many, but you’ve served alongside enough armies that your lack of a badge doesn’t matter.

And there’s that feeling again in Price. The dulled rush of anticipation, of knowing that he’s got a good one in his hands, bursting with potential. Laswell recognized it the moment she saw him reading your file for the first time.

“Don’t poach all my good men, Price,” she sighed, but gave him your contact details, regardless.

He wasn’t surprised that you turned him down. Your file was rather explicit in telling him that you’re more a lone wolf than a mainstay. But by the fifth rejected call, he had to play the ‘Laswell’s Christmas drinking buddy’ card and get her to convince you.

It was then that he'd seen you in person for the first time, in the cold light of one of Laswell's safehouses, and it'd be a cold day in hell before Price lets himself get intimidated by anyone, but hell was feeling a little chilly that night.

Still, he'd recruited Ghost. He'd recruited König. Surely, he knew how to handle you.

…right.

Your problem, which Laswell already warned him about, was that while you followed his orders in a professional sense, there was a difference between obedience and genuine respect, the second of which you’d only reserved for Laswell.

Price wasn’t particular about demanding respect from anyone and everyone, but he also had the urge to help you open up, to untangle that knot of bitterness and cold that kept you silent. Yet the distance between your ranks was too wide, with a wall of ice damn near impenetrable for Price. Not that he was the type to give up when faced with such challenges.

If you smoked, he’d easily offer a cigar, but if you didn’t, he’d do most of the talking as you silently stood by him during his smoke breaks just by his office window.

You reminded him a little of Ghost that way, ever the silent shadow with haunted eyes and an icy composure. You also insisted on calling him Captain, which wouldn’t have been an issue if not for how robotic you sounded, even in small talk.

When it got around that Gaz managed to get you to warm up, Price felt half relieved, and half like he'd just been upstaged. That was his job as captain, damn it. He watched you grow from the sidelines, slowly defrosting as you spent more time with the others. 

The day after your first leave together out to the pub, he wanted to shut Soap up because of how much he bragged about you taking care of him. Something about you giving him hangover cures and making him food. But he couldn’t have been prouder when he told Laswell the same story.

During your smoke break chats by the window, Price always gave you advice through his stories and musings.

It was only on the last day of your contract that you said anything yourself.

“Kate trusts you.” You spoke suddenly, under the moon of a quiet night.

Price didn’t respond immediately, afraid to break the sudden fragile atmosphere between you two, and silently urged you to continue.

“...she was captured on your watch.” The accusatory sting in your tone was like a knife in the dark.

Price dipped his head low. “And we fought like hell to get her back. We don’t leave our men behind.”

“I know.”

A long silence followed. You were assessing him. Mulling over whether this task force was worth your time or Laswell’s trust. Price could see it in your eyes, and as much as he’d want to convince you to stay right there, that olive branch was already extended a long time ago by Gaz, Soap, Ghost, and even König. As captain, it was his duty to keep you in line. As Price, he wanted to earn your trust. To trust you himself to make that decision.

When his last cigar for the night burned low, the sliver of smoke joining the creeping sunrise, you hummed.

“See you later, Price.”

You retreated back into his office, and from behind him, Price heard the rustle of paper. You left without another word.

He might have rushed to his desk to see what you’d done to his paperwork, and a low, rough chuckle bubbled from within his chest.

You signed his offer.

ghost

‘Laswell’s attack dog.’ That was the cruel summary of your file.

Ghost was the first person Price consulted with on getting you in the team. From how Price and Laswell described you, it slowly dawned on Ghost just how much Laswell trusted you.

If the 141 fails, Laswell will send you.

Naturally, that made Ghost a little wary of you. He trusted Price, he trusted Laswell, but he didn't trust this outlier. You're another sniper, too. Just what he needed after König joined up. Wonderful.

He wasn’t subtle in his caution against you, but it wasn’t supposed to be subtle. It was a warning.

You didn’t cause trouble. Quite the opposite, in fact: you were quiet. Too quiet. Always tending your gear or spending hours at the range, seeming to only have the next battle in mind. He had to check the security feed to make sure that you were going to your room at night and getting food instead of living at the range 24/7.

By that point he’d decided to go to the range and see you for himself.

“Where’d you learn?”

He couldn’t help but ask as you perfected a whole round of targets. You weren’t startled by his presence, already having heard his quiet steps long before he saw you.

“Picked it up as a habit,” was your frosty reply. “Then did it for money.”

“How old were you?”

“Ask Kate.”

There it was. He had his suspicions about how you came to be so attached to Laswell. If you’d served in enough missions, or if there was something deeper than that, with how you would kill for her without question or how Laswell trusted your strength, yet still discreetly asked Price to keep an eye on your well-being.

“Suppose I won’t,” he said, and that was enough for your to pause and turn back to him.

“Thought you were grilling me for info, LT.”

“I know when not to pry. You better not bring old enemies to us.”

“The dead can’t walk.”

Were you cold? Distant? A bit mean? Yes, yes, and yes. But Ghost was patient. So long as you weren’t a threat or nuisance to the team, you could stay. You were even one of the more obedient ones, so he wasn’t complaining.

That changed when he partnered with you on the field for the first time. It was also your first mission with the others, as you were usually the sniper from the far back instead of charging in with them.

Amid the sands and gunpowder, you were a machine. No enemy slipped past your combined strength, and you complemented each other’s combat styles perfectly. He goes in with the heavy fire while you shot down snipers like you already knew exactly where they were.

“Fuckin’ splendid, soldier,” he said on the way back, when everyone else was asleep.

“I try, sir.” 

He looked forward to training with you from then on, silently one-upping each other’s skills from shooting to sparring in an endless chase to the top. The competition grew notorious enough that other soldiers began approaching you for advice on how to improve themselves or to compliment your skills, garnering a reaction from you that only Ghost could tell was embarrassment.

Despite not being as close to you as the rest, your standoffishness and frigid personality were things that Ghost was familiar enough with that he could see right through you. 

“Aw no, another Ghost?” Soap once complained when Price sent them your file. Ghost had only scoffed then at the ridiculous notion.

Now, though, as you silently fussed over your teammates while insisting that you weren’t at all concerned, it made him feel a little warm inside.

Nothing wrong with a second Ghost if it meant more people looking out for his comrades.

And with how you seemed to have König wrapped around your little finger, Ghost could at least trust you with keeping him in line.

  gaz

He can’t explain why, but there’s something about you that reminded him of his old anger; the frustration he had with how much injustice the world let slip between the cracks, the helplessness he’d felt before he met Price.

Your relationship with Laswell… it’s a little like his own with Price, but in the place of brotherhood or mentorship is something quiet and mournful, the kind of loyalty forged out of a dark place. It’s clear that you view Laswell as a kind of savior, the type you’d owe your life to. It’s the only way to explain why you only come back to her.

Gaz kept his distance, unlike Soap. He could tell when you needed space and respected it — unlike Soap. Or Price. Or — he couldn’t believe it — Ghost. It’s just Gaz being respectful, definitely not related to feelings of intimidation or fear. Maybe.

Funnily enough, it’s that wordless consideration of your alone time that made Gaz the first person you warmed up to. It was only a brief chat about when the next resupply for ammo comes in. You’d been running low for a while and your kit is rather specialized, but Gaz was the first you’d spoken to without hostility or work in mind.

With that ice broken, the next conversations were slow-going, but easier. Shared watch duty where Gaz babbled mindlessly about everything he'd been thinking about, just to keep himself awake, while you listened silently, but intently.

Gaz didn't know that you were actually paying attention until you started setting out his favorite tea in the morning without a word or clearing your throat before entering a room because he hated getting startled. Those were things he'd only told you at night, when he thought you were barely tolerating him.

Instead of a terrifying shadow, he started to see the human side of you. The considerate side that you tried to hide with a bitter scowl when he brought it up. Dare he say it, it was a little endearing, like the grumpy stray cat he used to feed as a kid.

When the rest of the 141 noticed, he'd automatically been designated as your unofficial 'translator.' He could decode any of your blank (and sometimes terrifying) expressions to the letter.

"Quit it, Soap, they need a nap."

"Captain, you're bumping into their injured shoulder, sir."

"LT, might want to hide your tea stash, think they saw your cup."

"König, come back! We just wanted to compare gear!... Eh, sorry mate, he's gone."

"What d'you want, black coffee or... latte? Huh. Two lattes, please."

Usually, when you'd be paired up with Gaz, you're the sniper supporting him from far away. Your quiet murmur over the comms, even in a firefight, instantly calmed him down and Gaz swore that he worked better when he knew you were watching him.

Post-mission naps on your shoulder didn’t sound too bad, either. That was a privilege he wasn’t going to give up to anyone. No matter how annoying about it Soap got.

soap

We know Ghost's attitude didn't stop Soap from getting all buddy-buddy with him.

But even then, your demeanor, as sharp as a coldsnap and twice as biting, gave him pause. He's spoiled with reactions from other people to his presence, whether it's reciprocated friendliness or annoyance at his energetic personality. Total apathy, with a tinge of hostility, only came from Ghost and you. And Ghost warmed up to the guy already, so your silence bothered him a little.

Not that he hated you, but it stirred a competitive urge to challenge your coldness and finally get you to crack.

Mercifully, he somehow didn't end up getting killed in the process of fighting for your attention. He's not subtle about it, though: other people on base always referred to him as your 'pet dog' when he's looking for you.

"Hey, your Scottish Terrier came by, was yowling for your attention."

"Put your dog on a leash, would you? He won't stop interrupting R&D to ask where you are."

"Feed your pup, sergeant, he looks pitiful from over here."

But you didn’t look down on him the way others do. You didn’t see some kid trying to play hero, who got lucky because Price took a shine to him and had no other skills to speak of. You looked down on him the same way you did at everyone else: a detached gaze from your metaphorical ice castle, nothing more. And in a twisted way, it’s refreshing.

When he found out that you'd gotten close with Gaz before anyone else, he was ready to whine. Ghost certainly got the worse end of his complaints. Since then, he'd butt into yours and Gaz's conversations, especially when you started joining the boys for lunch instead of eating alone.

It was only on your first leave together, your first civilian outing, that Soap realized that you were closer than he'd thought.

While he was drinking at the pub, you carefully watched him, silently looking out for signs of him getting too drunk, at which point you'd begun secretly ordering watered-down versions of his drink until it was practically juice. 

Even with how wasted he was, he saw through your trick, but all was forgiven by the next morning when you'd cared for him through his hangover in your own, grumpy way. You even cooked breakfast for him, but he wouldn’t tell you that it was practically tasteless and mostly hangover cures. The thought counts, right?

And wow, he would not stop rubbing the fact that you took care of him all over 141’s faces.

“Watch your back, Gaz. I’ll be takin’ your spot soon!”

“Johnny, it’s two in the fucking morning.”

“You can’t be their favorite and Price’s at the same time. Pick one!”

“No. Besides, think König is second to me, not you.”

“The fuck?”

könig

You reminded him of the deep winters of his deployments in the north. Cold, cruel, yet beautiful. Sorrowful. Lonely. Silent. Calming.

Make no mistake, the first few months with you around, König was sure he was going to have a breakdown. Your lightless stare bored holes into him, no matter how hard he tried to hide from your field of view. It took enough of his energy to resist the urge to hide behind any of his new 141 teammates. Seriously, how did he get along better with Ghost than with you when you didn't even have a mask?

It didn't matter if you’re built like Ghost or the scrappiest operator around: your chilling aura always left König with his hands clammy and breaths a little short.

If Gaz pre-friendship was giving you space, König was running from you at first sight.

But when König watched you grow close with the rest of the 141, his sharp eyes catching that lightning-fast flicker of tenderness on your face, it was over for him. He had to see it again, like sunlight glancing off fresh ice.

Cue the big guy trailing after you helplessly, like a fidgety shadow, that the other 141 members politely pretended to ignore. Not that he's any good at hiding.

König may have done a good job at absolutely shattering his terrifying image with his actions at base, but when you're on the field, he's an entirely different person.

A beast. A hunter. A king of the battlefield. He's covered in blood from head to toe, glee rushing through his veins as he bludgeoned two men with his bare hands. For a moment, he wondered if you would be impressed with his kill count. You must be. Then he thought for another moment. Then another.

And he remembered that you were his partner for this mission, and that no, this was not a good look for him.

Slowly, horrified, he turned back to you. You looked over the aftermath: a warehouse filled with bodies, not all of them slain with bullets, and broken weapons. König barely heard you convey your victory to Captain Price over the comms, even if you were right in front of him.

It was only when you clapped him on the arm that he snapped to attention: both from your touch and the miniscule smirk on your lips.

"Don't forget to watch your six."

"You... are not... afraid?"

"Just glad I'm not on your bad side. Let's go."

On the next missions, König would restrain his bloodlust a little, if only to see you in action himself. You moved smoothly and quietly, just like a shadow leaving death in your wake. He watched you snuff out an entire enemy safehouse without anyone noticing. 

You truly were the Angel of Death, going from door to door, taking lives like it was divine decree. There was never a more beautiful sight.

König was... stuck to you like glue, to say the least. He'd slowly begun joining you at target practice, or sparring, or running into you around the base and coincidentally offering his help with the reports you meant to file.

Whether you noticed or not, he didn’t care. Actually, he wouldn’t mind if you noticed how helpful he’d been. The more you saw him as reliable, the more you’d be willing to be his buddy on the field, yes? And the more he’d get to see you in action, no?

Now, if only the others would stop hogging you for a second… he could interrupt that conversation you were having with Ghost… if Ghost wasn’t looking… any time now…

[runariya]

Vampire jk which abducted reader from a covenience store bc he thinks she's pretty and he won't share. Make it yandere and DARK pls pls

(yandere) part of the prompt game pairing: vampire!Jungkook x f!reader genre: vampire!AU, yandere, dark romance warnings: yandere, obsession, compulsion so kind of non-con, mentions of blood, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 1.775

a/n: hope it's dark enough lol

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

There’s something about the way you move, something about the way you exist, something so breakable, so delicate, so utterly fragile in your very being, like a porcelain doll poised on the edge of a shelf, waiting for a hand, just one careless hand, to shatter you into a thousand tiny pieces—shards of glass, glittering remnants of what was once whole but could never be put back together again.

Jungkook watches you, has been watching you for months now, lurking like the monster he is, in the corners of the streets you walk down in the darkening evenings, in the dim alleyways of your naive routine, unnoticed but always there, lingering with an intent that borders on obsession. Your skin is pale, your eyes wide, innocent, doe-like, and your lips are so soft-looking he sometimes wonders what it would feel like to press his thumb against them, feel the warmth of your breath, see if you’d break under the slightest bit of pressure, just snap like a twig in winter, cold and brittle.

It’s funny, he thinks, how you walk through life so unaware, so untouched by the darkness that curls around you, the shadows that creep along the edges of your world, waiting to consume you, and he, of course, is one of those shadows, watching you, biding his time, waiting for the perfect moment, the moment when he’ll take you, make you his.

You’re so beautiful in your naivety, so perfect in your ignorance, and there’s a strange satisfaction in knowing that he’ll be the one to break you, to take that innocence and twist it into something darker, something that belongs to him, something that can never escape him once he’s had his way with it.

It happens on a Tuesday, a drizzly, grey afternoon in the convenience store, where the fluorescent lights buzz incessantly overhead and the air smells faintly of damp vegetables and cheap cleaning products. You’re there, standing in front of a shelf filled with canned soup, your fingers trailing absentmindedly along the labels as you read them with that same curious intensity you seem to give everything else, as if choosing a can of soup could somehow change the course of your life.

He stands a few aisles down, pretending to be interested in some boxed pasta, but his eyes are on you, always on you, drawn to you like a moth to a flame, that simmering sense of possessiveness curling tighter and tighter in his chest while saliva collects in his mouth, fangs protruding just a little.

You’re wearing a light dress today, something floral and soft, something that makes you look even more delicate than usual, and it’s that sight, that perfect, breakable sight, that makes him decide that today is the day, that he’s done waiting, done watching, done hiding like some kind of forgotten nightmare. No, today he’ll take you, and you won’t even know it’s happening until it’s too late.

He approaches you slowly, casually, his footsteps silent on the linoleum floor, and when he’s close enough that you can feel his presence, you turn your head to look at him, those wide, innocent, beautiful eyes locking onto his, and for a moment, just a brief flicker of a moment, you look confused, like you don’t quite know what to make of him, but that’s okay. He’s not worried. He never worries. He knows what he is, knows what he can do, and humans are so terribly easy to manipulate, to control, to bend to his will without even realising it.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low, smooth, almost like velvet, as he steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and there’s a slight smile playing on his lips, a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes, because why would it? You’re just a fragile little thing, after all, and he knows exactly how fragile things can break.

You blink up at him, that confusion still clouding your gaze, but there’s something else there too, something that he recognises immediately—the fear, the instinctive fear that all prey feels when it senses a predator nearby. But you don’t run. You don’t even move. You’re frozen, like a deer caught in headlights, staring up at him with those wide, pretty eyes, and it’s almost too easy, almost too perfect.

“You’re coming with me,” he says, his voice still that same velvet tone, but there’s an edge to it now, a command, and as he says the words, he reaches out, his hand brushing against your arm, and he feels the spark, the connection, the compulsion sliding into place like a key turning in a lock.

Your eyes glaze over slightly, your lips parting just a little, and you nod, so softly, so obediently, it makes his cold heart swell with something dark and possessive. You’re his now. You don’t even know it, but you’re his, and there’s no turning back.

A young grocery store employee approaches you then, a kid really, barely old enough to be working here, and he’s looking at you, not at Jungkook, with concern in his eyes, because even he can sense that something isn’t right, that something about this situation feels off, but Jungkook doesn’t care. He doesn’t care about the boy. He only cares about you.

“Is everything okay?” the boy asks, his voice hesitant, unsure, and he takes a step closer, like he might try to intervene, might try to play the hero in this little scene, but Jungkook just looks at him, just gives him one look, one cold, dead-eyed look, and the boy stops in his tracks, the blood draining from his face, fear settling deep into his bones. He doesn’t say another word. He just turns around and walks away, too scared, too weak to do anything else, and Jungkook almost laughs, almost, but there’s no time for that, not now.

“Let’s go,” he whispers to you, and you nod again, that same obedient little nod, and he takes your small hand, cold fingers wrapping around yours, pulling you along behind him as you walk out of the store, out into the rain, out into the world where no one will stop him, where no one will even try, because no one ever does.

His house is dark, shadowed, the kind of place where nightmares are born and never quite die, and as he leads you inside, he watches you closely, watches the way you move, the way you follow him without question, without hesitation, and it’s almost laughable, because you’re so fragile, so tiny, so breakable, and he knows, deep down, that he could crush you in an instant, snap you in half without much effort, and you wouldn’t even fight back. You wouldn’t even scream.

He brings you to the living room, where the air reeks with the scent of old wood and something else, something metallic and dark, like blood that’s dried long ago, and he pushes you gently onto the couch, watching as you sit there, your hands folded neatly in your lap, your eyes still glazed over, still lost in that compulsion, and it’s so satisfying, so incredibly satisfying, to know that you’re his now, that you belong to him in every way that matters.

“Do you know how long I’ve watched you?” he asks you, his voice soft, almost tender, as he sits down beside you, his cold hand resting on your knee, his inked fingers trailing lightly over the fabric of your dress. “Do you know how long I’ve waited for this moment?”

You don’t respond, of course. You can’t. Not while you’re under his control, not while his will is the only thing that matters in your mind. But that’s fine. He doesn’t need you to respond. He just needs you to listen.

“I’ve watched you for months,” he continues, his voice low, almost a whisper now, as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, inhaling deeply as his fangs come fully to life, “and I’ve thought about all the ways I could take you, all the ways I could make you mine. You’re so pretty, so perfect, so breakable… like a fucking doll. I could snap you in half if I wanted to, you know? I could break you, and you wouldn’t even know it until it was too late.”

His hand moves up your leg, cold fingers sliding under the hem of your dress, and you still don’t move, still don’t react, and it’s almost intoxicating, the power he holds over you, the way you’re completely at his mercy, completely and utterly his.

“But I won’t break you,” he purrs softly, his voice almost gentle now, as if he’s trying to soothe you, trying to make you believe that he’s not the monster you should fear. “I won’t break you because I’m not like that. I’m not like the others. I have a gold heart, you see… but my hands are cold. So cold.”

He lifts his hand, showing you his fingers, pale and icy, and he watches as your eyes follow the movement, as if you’re mesmerised by the sight of him, by the sight of something so inhuman, so otherworldly.

“I won’t break you,” he repeats, and this time, there’s something darker in his voice, something twisted and possessive and full of the kind of love that only monsters can feel. “I’ll keep you, instead. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll keep you forever.”

And then he leans in, closer and closer, until his lips are inches from yours, and he can feel your breath on his skin, warm and soft, and it’s almost too much, almost too perfect, because he knows that in this moment, in this exact moment, you’re his, completely and utterly his, and nothing will ever change that.

“You belong to me now,” he whispers against your lips, and then, without waiting for a response, without giving you a chance to even think even if you tried, he kisses you.

His lips are cold, colder than ice, colder than death, and he feels you shudder beneath him, feels the way your body reacts to the touch, the way your skin prickles with goosebumps, and it’s so satisfying, so incredibly satisfying, to know that he’s the one causing it, that he’s the one who owns you now, body and soul.

And as he kisses you, as he feels you give in to him completely, he knows that this is just the beginning, just the start of something darker, something twisted, something that will never end, because you’re his now, and you’ll never be anything else.

Never.

PART 2

[llamagoddessofficial]

What would happen if MC was a sea diver? Maybe she was exploring a ship reck and the siren boys bumped into them? How would they react?

Sans: He's much more calm, when she's a diver. There's something about her already being in his territory... rather than meeting her on land and wanting to drag her into the water, he meets her in the water, and needs to not give her any reasons to stop coming to the water. No need to be scary. Just take it slow.

They had a very tender moment at their first meeting. After first sighting one another, they spent a long few minutes just watching each other. In the same way that you wouldn't expect to see an actual orca while scuba diving in relatively shallow water, Mc wasn't expecting to see an orca siren. There was also an undeniable magic to the moment, staying still as possible and holding eye contact with a highly intelligent creature from an entirely different world to your own. When he did draw in, it was slow, mutual studying - she looked at every line and scar, he pretended to care about her equipment so she wouldn't be weirded out by him constantly staring deeply into her pretty eyes. The only physical contact they shared was a single brush of her hand against his (the only part of her not covered by wetsuit) before he left, cautious not to overstay his welcome and intimidate her.

He follows her around but rarely initiates contact. He enjoys 'playing'; showing her interesting things, retrieving lost items, introducing her to new and exciting wildlife and dive spots. He's going to get her to trust him. He just has to be patient.

Red: Y'know those videos of sharks coming right up to a diver for scritches? That's him. Unlike Sans' cautious and slow approach, Red was very Red, and upon spotting her just bulldozed right over to her. She tried to be a responsible diver and not interact at all with wildlife, staying on the seafloor and slowly backing away from him, but Red wasn't gonna let that happen - and what's she going to do, swim away? Cute. She can't outswim him. On their first meeting he squeezed any part of her he could reach before she could pull out of range again (arms, legs, hips,) tapped on her scuba mask, blew bubbles at her, and bit a chunk out of one of her dive buddy's flippers as a warning. He's brazenly flirting.

He 'behaves' when she gives him attention. At first she was genuinely intimidated, but now she treats him like an overenthusiastic large dog. Funnily enough he does genuinely like scritches, especially on the parts of him he can't easily get to, like on his tail and behind his main fin.

He and Sans usually manage to alternate what days they show up to see her, but when they do see each other they frequently get into scraps. Especially if one of them thinks the other is too close. Sans doesn't like Red's forwardness with her, and Red doesn't like a crazed lonely orca being anywhere near his fragile human, but both are unwilling to kill and reveal their bloodthirsty natures. They force themselves to get along... especially when sight of the two giants fighting immediately makes her evacuate the water.

Skull: He was probably living in a wreck she dove in. It's nice and dark, but spacious, and full of interesting trinkets he can collect. On their first encounter, Skull spent most of his time silently stalking Mc in the dark water. She didn't notice him until the very last second; you can imagine the shock and terror at shining a light into a shadowy corner and illuminating a massive grinning face.

She doesn't entirely know what he would've done to her, in the confinement of that wreck, if she hadn't shone the light into his face and startled him long enough to get the fuck out of there. But from that point on, no matter where she dives, if neither Red nor Sans show up Skull will always be there. He makes his aquarium counterpart proud by stealing her things. She doesn't understand why - he gives the items back eventually, so does he even really want them? Is he a kleptomaniac? Is this just a way to get her attention? Who knows. At least he doesn't eat her. He absolutely could; despite regularly diving in groups, nobody ever sees him coming until her kit is already missing.

[inferno-0]

Kaiju cuddle session, with Godzilla, Mothra, Kong, Rodan and Ghidorah? 👀

Embrace / All Kaiju x reader /

────────────────────────────

Sorry for the English

And I also got a little burned...

────────────────────────────

Godzilla

* Your hugs happen quite often, as our big guy happens to be too needy. The struggle does not give him any pleasure, except for scars and bad memories, so he has to look for peace. If before he was just dozing in the colosseum (in the temple before destruction), now this Titan automatically begins to look for you in order to snuggle up to you. Basically, this is already an everyday part of the day.

Sleep in an embrace.

The time when he can put his tail on you and smell your scales. If you are a human, then his paw comes into play, which presses you to the muzzle like a plush toy.

Mothra/Mosura

* This is the lady whose touches are gentle and affectionate. Despite its size, it still manages to somehow snuggle up to you. He loves to do it to death and never refuses. Her chirping turns into a quiet and rhythmic squeak as your hands bury themselves in her fluff.

She becomes the most timid at such a moment. Her forelimbs try to touch you as gently as possible and hold you close to them while her antennae cover your back. If you are a Titan, then it effortlessly, but still gently warms itself with your body. If you are larger than it, then it will definitely sit on top of your head.

Rodan

Lord, he is the hottest hug of all listed. Although his impudent temper sometimes prevents him from doing this, if only jealousy can play its cube and make him come to you to get your whole body. Sometimes he can do without it in case of a depressed mood.

This Kaiju's body is very hot, but I think he knows how to control the temperature. Or just cool down, after a long stay in the volcano.

He never refuses if you offer a hug, it's just that when Rodan himself is thirsty, then it is difficult to ask, as mentioned earlier.

King Ghidorah

All three want them in their own way. Ichi and Ni are just splinters waiting for your offer. They never ask you themselves.

Only if Kevin doesn't get away from your body and pokes you in the stomach all day.

His brothers, let's say, don't really understand the meaning of this gesture, although watching San purr relaxed under your touch encourages them to do the same, and it annoys them. But these two still get what they want, despite their nervousness and pride. Sometimes they can do it silently, without any negative actions, which, roughly speaking, surprises you.

King Kong

Your hugs are very long and strong. Kong at such a moment treats you as something fragile and cute and he tries to make it as good and pleasant as possible for you. He is also a lonely warrior, but wiser and more understanding. His embrace is something dear, it is not just a touch of the body, but a deeper feeling. Let's say, Intensive.

Kong at such a moment will silently enjoy such moments and try to put all his emotions into them and feel yours.

This is not a Titan who will proudly deny his love for this physical attention. Kong, on the contrary, seeks and craves it. And you are more than a suitable person (Titan?) who can give him what he wants.

────────────────────────────

[thepastisalreadywritten]

By Allison Pearson

23 March 2024

OH, NO. No. A sense that something was not right, that our wonderful Princess was perhaps in more trouble than we’d been told, was confirmed at 6pm on Friday with an unprecedented TV address that dealt a blow to the nation’s solar plexus.

Some will simply have been stunned by the news, hardly able to comprehend it (what, cancer twice in the Royal family within two months? But she’s so young).

Others will have been in tears, as I was, watching our Princess of Wales, parchment-pale, clearly fragile yet valiantly composing herself to record a message in that crystal-clear voice, reassuring us that, although it had been “an incredibly tough couple of months for our entire family,” she would be OK, given enough time, space and privacy.

One friend who heard it on the car radio pulled over to the side of the road and sobbed. “I am just so upset,” she texted.

Another confessed she was relieved that the Waleses hadn’t separated – one of the wilder rumours that had been flying around since the Princess of Wales was pictured in that photoshopped, too-smiley Mother’s Day picture without her wedding rings.

“For the backbone of Britain, we need those two to be together and happily married,” said my friend. So true.

William ’n’ Kate, Kate ’n’ William, a couple for almost the whole of their adult lives, one unimaginable without the other.

Our monarchy is assured as long as there is them (the Waleses will celebrate their thirteenth wedding anniversary on 29th April, six days after little Louis turns six).

Suddenly, with this announcement, we are reminded that they are only human too, vulnerable at times, and Britain is badly shaken.

As she finished her statement, the ramifications started to sink in. Prince William has to deal with a father and a wife with cancer at the same time.

There are haunting echoes of Diana, too, another beloved princess whose personal challenges played out so publicly.

Poor William must feel like there are snipers in the garden taking aim at his family.

You could tell the children were uppermost in her mind, just as they are for any parent who is told they have cancer.

George, Charlotte and Louis, she spoke their names aloud, her darlings. You know, I think they were the real reason she steeled herself to do it.

To sit there on that wooden bench with spring bursting out behind her. Daffodils on a grassy bank, trees in blossom – a cruelly lovely backdrop for such sad tidings.

How simply dressed she was in a matelot jumper and jeans, stripped of finery and clothed, instead, in a becoming humility, her beauty thrown into sharp relief by the strain on her face.

A 42-year-old who is uniquely privileged yet now confronts every woman’s frightening brush with mortality.

Her statement was carefully timed to coincide with the start of the school Easter holidays so the children could be safe at home and wouldn’t have to endure whispers in class about Mummy’s illness.

(Sparing them the agonies of embarrassment young William and Harry suffered at boarding school when Charles and Diana were getting divorced.)

It’s not easy to protect your children when their grandfather is the King and their father his heir.

The Prince and Princess of Wales have always been concerned to make things as normal, as Middleton, as possible, for their young family; this is their toughest test yet.

Was there more than a hint of rebuke in the Princess’s carefully measured words for a media that really has shown neither patience nor “understanding” since she disappeared from public view to have abdominal surgery?

She could be forgiven for being furious. (Believe me, many of us are furious on her behalf.)

“William and I have been doing everything we can to process and manage this privately for the sake of our young family,” she said pointedly.

“As you can imagine, this has taken time. It has taken me time to recover from major surgery in order to start my treatment.

But, most importantly, it has taken us time to explain everything to George, Charlotte and Louis in a way that is appropriate for them, and to reassure them that I am going to be OK.”

“Back off,” she was saying in the politest possible way, “leave me and my kids alone.”

Of course, she needed time to come to terms with the shattering blow of having a life-threatening illness and three children under 10. Every mother’s nightmare.

But time is one thing the vultures and conspiracy theorists were not prepared to give her.

In the vacuum Kensington Palace foolishly allowed to develop, the vilest rumours flourished.

Had she undergone cosmetic surgery? Wasn’t she just slacking? Why wasn’t William taking up more duties to relieve his sick father?

Had Catherine left William? Was it a lookalike pictured with William at a Windsor farm shop?

The gossip went global, causing universal hysteria.

Imagine feeling as sick and scared as the Princess must have done, yet being under pressure to show yourself in order to disprove the lies and appease the baying online mob. It’s barbaric.

I hope those who made such disgusting comments are burning with shame today now that we know the reason she hid away.

It wasn’t only ghouls with a conscience bypass who were trying to fill the gaps in the story.

Theories also came from people who adore the Royal family and were deeply worried for the absent Princess. We love and respect her so much.

Incredibly, in a poll earlier this month, the recuperating Princess still managed to emerge as the most popular royal, narrowly ahead of her husband.

Despite the slurry of accusations – not least the appalling claim in an early draft of a book by Omid Scobie (media snitch), that she was one of the two alleged “royal racists” who speculated on the baby’s likely skin colour – their figures are broadly unchanged since a previous poll in 2023.

Never Put a Foot Wrong is said so often it’s practically the definition of her.

Turns out there may be stresses and strains to appearing always in control, to aiming for perfection, that can eat away at a sensitive person not born to be royal.

Catherine says her job brings her joy; it must also have caused worry (such remorseless spotlight scrutiny).

We should reflect on that, I think. On what it’s reasonable to expect from one human being who expects so much of herself.

How the Princess came to win such a large place in British people’s hearts is better than any fairy tale.

Bullied at school, the quiet, sporty brunette was famous for her record-breaking high jump and tenacious character.

She had blossomed by the time she met William in their first term at St Andrew’s.

At 29, when they finally exchanged vows in Westminster Abbey, she was the first royal bride to have a university degree; the first to have lived with her husband before marriage; the first to be raised in a house that had a street number instead of a fancy name and a moat with swans.

As second in line to the throne, William was expected to pick his princess from a select group of well-bred young fillies.

Hot favourites included Davina Duckworth-Chad and one Isabella Amaryllis Charlotte Anstruther-Gough-Calthorpe.

Enough hyphens to make plain Catherine Middleton of Bucklebury, Berkshire, feel a little inadequate, you might think.

Except that, when a friend at university told Catherine how lucky she was to be going out with Prince William, a smiling Catherine replied: “He’s lucky to have me.”

The years have proved her right, haven’t they?

The death of Diana left William a damaged, stubborn and angry young man, acutely aware he was a prisoner of fate and railing at the media who pursued his mother.

Catherine has calmed him, rebuilding trust while providing the regular family life he had never known.

She has grown brilliantly into the role and the Waleses are a formidable team, lighting up any event they enter.

Now, it is his turn to soothe and calm her, although he must be deeply worried.

“Having William by my side is a great source of comfort and reassurance too, as is the love, support and kindness that has been shown by so many of you. It means so much to us both,” she said.

The King was right to salute his daughter-in-law for her courage. Imagine what it takes to first tell your small children you have cancer and then tell the whole world.

She did it so naturally, so sweetly, with such great empathy for others with that cruel disease that no one could possibly guess what it cost her. But it cost her.

She has told George, Charlotte and Louis that Mummy is well, and getting better, but the only way she will make a full recovery is if she’s left alone as she completes her treatment.

Will the vultures listen? Will they give her the time she needs or go back pecking for more?

Millions of us are praying for the return to health of our wonderful Princess of Wales. She has all our support and love.

A Britain without her is unthinkable, unbearable. Take your time, Princess, take your time.

💙🌹💙

[stevieharringtonwifeguy]

changeling steve whose fae abilities activate early bc of the upside down, which surprises him bc he had no idea he wasn't human

usually changelings are a little weird, but don't become like Full Fae until they come of age, somewhere around 20, but sometimes if their life is in danger or they're otherwise under a great deal of stress, they can Blossom early

steve's never been a little weird. in fact, he's always been good at being Very Normal, always exactly what everyone expects him to be, exactly what everyone wants him to be. when he's young, his parents want a quiet boy they can show off at dinner parties, so steve dutifully bends his personality into shape, polite and good enough at the piano to play something for the grownups and let them coo over him (never too good or too polite, because his parents want him to be a little boy who'll grow into a Man's Man, and that means not liking music too much and climbing trees without getting dirty and pulling on girls pigtails)

when he gets to high school, his parents want him to join sports teams, so he bends his personality again and doesn't think about how easy it is for him to gain the muscle mass and dexterity required, because he must just have some kind of natural talent for it. the team has its own expectations of him: they want a King, someone who's good with girls and likes to kick down at the unpopular masses, so he does that too, picks up on everyone's insecurities the easiest out of all his followers, always seems to know exactly how to twist his words to make his victims feel the worst

then he meets nancy, and it's the first time he's not sure exactly what someone wants from him. sometimes he wonders if she even knows what she wants him to be. he still does his best though, because that's what he does, bending and twisting into the perfect boyfriend, sweet, attentive, a little roguish just to keep the edge on. and for a while it works, even after barb and the demogorgon and the nailbat in his trunk that doesn't fit any of the people he's supposed to be and sometimes makes him itch so much he feels like his skins going to crawl off

but then it's the next halloween, and nancy calls him bullshit and he knows she's right. doesn't know how to not be bullshit though, no ones ever wanted that from him. he could try though, for her, he thinks, if that's what she wants, so he shows up at her house a few days later with a bouquet, only to find dustin henderson demanding he take out his bat again

and later, in the junkyard, while the kids are in the bus yelling and steve's been knocked on his back by a demodog, bat out of reach as he frantically pushes at the heavy weight of the monster on top of him, he curses how weak and useless his stupid human hands are. if he was more like the demodogs, with their gnarled claws and copious amounts of teeth, he'd have no problem winning this fight. and as he thinks it, as he deliriously and desperately wishes he had some kind of natural defense against creatures like this, something changes inside him. it feels like someone's injected pop rocks into his bloodstream, and they seem to collect in his hands, where they're still uselessly scratching at the demodogs tough hide

except, they're not uselessly scratching anymore. now they're carving into the thing like butter, because his nails have gone from blunt and fragile to something long and hard like steel, and the tendons in his hands have shifted and strengthened to be much more effective at cutting through meat. he has claws now. actual, literal claws, a lot like the ones the demodogs have, although his are sort of glowing and shimmering from within like he's full of fireflies. it would explain the buzzing in his veins. but he can't think about that now, has to get this thing off of him, has to protect the kids, has to live another day

and at the same time, across town in a little trailer, the only two witches in hawkins have just gotten hit with a blast of released magical energy that's so strong it sends them physically reeling. eddie actually falls on his ass. wayne helps him up while the kid asks what the hell that was, and honestly wayne isn't absolutely sure himself. doesn't feel human, even if the mortal panic it's laced with feels very human indeed, and it takes him a while to place that fizzy feeling as fae magic. a Blossoming.

so he explains to eddie about changelings, cuffs him good-naturedly around the head when the kid immediately relates it to his nerd game (he does this every time wayne teaches him something new about magic), and explains a little more about fae in general. he's told eddie about them before, but fae tend to keep to themselves, so there's been no real need to explain more than basic etiquette and safety measures eddie should take if he ever came across a fairy in the wild

now though, he explains, he thinks eddie should reach out. that Blossom was early, panicked, which means there's some kid out there about eddie's age who's going through magical puberty into an entirely new species directly after some kind of terrible ptsd-inducing event. so he tells eddie to keep an eye out for them at school, because magical folk gotta stick together, and eddie agrees, because they do, and frankly yeah that sounds like a terrible thing to go through alone and confused

so imagine his dismay when king steve shows up to school the week after, clearly beat to shit and looking confused as hell when the things he reaches for end up in his hand without him actually grabbing them

reaching out might be a little harder than eddie expected. but, cursing himself a little for being too good a person to leave even king steve in the dark like that, he does it anyway.

[fuckyeahizzyhands]

Con O'Neill interview with Awards Radar's Steven Prusakowski 😭😭😭❤❤❤

SP: Busy time of year, but, you know, starting to slow down in just enough to hang out with the family and do all the cooking for, like 48 hours and then.

Con: Are you the main cook in the house?

SP: I am the main cook.

Con: Yeah. So am I. I love it.

SP: I love it, too.

Con: It's my go to place.

SP: Yeah.

Con: Because when I left school, I trained to be a chef.

SP: Oh, wow.

Con: Briefly. Another story.Okay, let's rock and roll.

SP: Well, that passion never leaves you, I think. I think once you start, especially when someone enjoys and says, hey, I really liked your food.I hear from my daughter's friends or their parents, she loved your pasta or whatever it was, I'm like, okay, now I'm...

Con: It's the best feeling, isn't it?

SP: It is. It's wonderful.

Con: And just that kind of inherent, nurturing thing of just going into the kitchen empty handed and coming out with a meal for people is really rewarding. And I love it. It's intoxicating. I absolutely love it.

SP: Same here.

Con: Because I travel so much, I don't always get a place with a kitchen. And that's why I always try and get an apartment when I'm filming because it just gives me a place to be in my head that isn't about work.

SP: Yeah. Yeah. Well, I can talk cooking forever, but-

Con: But we should.

SP: I know we're short on time and I have a ton of questions and I won't get to all of them. So let's just jump into the series and maybe we could pick it back up. Sorry to interrupt, but I love the series. I love your character and your performance.

Con: Thank you.

SP: It's a stellar, and there's so much to Izzy that we see on the surface, but there's so much more to him beneath. How was this character originally pitched you and what did you initially want to bring to him?

Con: The thing about this character was he wasn't in the pilot. So when I spoke to David about it, there was nothing written. So he explained it in very broad terms. But then I quite like specifics when I'm choosing projects. And kind of... he brought up Salieri from Amadeus, and I really hooked into that. Now, I don't know whether we went that way with it in the end, but it was a really good hook for me because Salieri is that guy with a mission who is on the surface wanting, but is underneath something else. And I think initially, Izzy was that, but then we exploded him in several other ways and Salieri diminished to something else. But it was a good hook for me

initially to get in by thinking about Salieri.

SP: Yeah, I like it. I could see that for sure. And to start the season two. So going into that, he's a shadow of himself from this feared, intense, strong man to a broken man. And what was it like taking this character and exposing that humanity and starting to peel away some of that shield.

Con: I mean... David had spoken to me before we started shooting and explained most of the hulk to me, and I'd always played Izzy as a man who was in love but didn't know he was in love. And for me, the key into this season was a. the design, but more importantly, was the Taika's performance. To see a man that I love to be that broken and to be that vicious because of the heartbreak, it was profound for me to see what he did with Blackbeard, and it did break my heart a little bit. So the emotional journey was quite clear that at the end of the day, all hatred of Stede had left him, and all he wanted to do is fix Blackbeard, and he risks his life to do that. He literally puts himself on the line for that because, like always. And what I loved about what David and the writers did was they didn't remove Izzy from season one in season two, he's still there. And what Izzy does is about the crew. He puts his life on the line because Blackbeard is killing his crew, and he risks it all for that. But it breaks him seeing the the man he loves so fragile and broken and angry, it breaks him. So, It wasn't an easy job. It was quite a lonely job. It was quite a difficult job because it was going down that path that I knew inevitably we were going to go down. But I thought it was beautifully written. So most of what I needed to do was on the page, to be honest-

SP: -I'm sorry-

Con: I just had to throw myself into it.

SP: Excellent. And then with Izzy being broken and literally broken, he loses his leg, which is symbolic of much more. It leads to one of the most touching moments of the series, a note with four words: For The New Unicorn. What did that mean to you, and what does that mean to the character?

Con: You know, I've been talking a lot last couple of days - because I'm allowed to now - and, you know, this season is about Izzy coming out. In many ways, he comes out, but that moment, that rest, that beautiful piece of writing again, the writing, where the crew embrace him, and it just releases him. It releases him from his own concept of who he is. It releases him from his own concept of who he has to

be to be a first mate and a brilliant first mate. It released him of concept that he's alone. None of this would have been possible to Izzy pre season one, none of it. And in many ways, it's Stede that brings this into his life. Because before Stede, Izzy never thought of his relationship with Blackbeard as a loving relationship. He never thought of it as being in love. He only realizes he's in love with Blackbeard when he sees Blackbeard lose Stede. That's the only... The reveal is he's heartbroken because the man he loves is broken, and he doesn't know what to do with any of that. He's not emotionally capable. And the crew giving him the letter and calling him the new unicorn and releasing him from all the stuff that he'd done, all that pain that he'd suffered and anger that he'd raged upon them, it's a really accepting moment. So... yeah, I'm waffling a bit now, but it meant a lot, and it was a very beautiful moment to play. And I thought Andy, who directed it, directed it so...Andy was a real shoulder for me to lean on in those scenes, because a lot of those early scenes I'm shooting on my own. And it's quite difficult to play an emotional narrative when you're on your own, because it tends to just be one tone. And he was wonderful, and Alyssa and Alex and all. They were all wonderful in helping me gauge those moments, as were the rest of the cast. But, yeah, that moment touched me enormously.

SP: You know, you have this love triangle that is never really spoken, but it's there.

Con: Yeah

SP: Then it kind of shifts - it's almost like a love square. It's Ed, Blackbeard, Izzy and Stede. And where the love, you know, crosses, it's all... or the hatred is at sometimes, but then it evolves...

Con: Absolutely.

SP: It's so complex.

Con: I mean we all're in contemporary language. We always associate love with romance. That isn't the case here. The love that Blackbeard and Izzy have for each other is deep, man. It's deep, and it's rooted in years of working together, loving each other, saving each other's lives, being constant. This is probably the only constant they both had in their lives, is Blackbeard is Izzy, Izzy is Blackbeard, and then they have this buffoon come in and steal Blackbeard's heart. It's not that Blackbeard falls in love with someone else. Blackbeard falls in love with this guy. This Izzy just can't comprehend, and it's a constant. And then once, I think once Blackbeard hands him the gun, everything changes. And Blackbeard says, kill yourself. Everything changes. And then there's an openness to Stede and Blackbeard that brings him to that place of acceptance-

SP: -It's great to watch also. I'm sorry. Go ahead.

Con: No, that. I mean, I'll waffle again. I'll waffle a lot, because that's what I do. But the more I think about that relationship, the more I go down all these different avenues of what it could have been, and what it could never have been, and what it is and what it wasn't. And as you say, it's layered and complex, and I'm honored to have been able to get to play with those actors, and especially with Taika, who's a profoundly good actor - everyone talks about Taika's director and writer - the man's a fucking great actor to work opposite, and he's... he's exquisite. So, yeah, I could only go where I went because the writers and Taika. Really.

SP: That's great. I... of course, we have to touch upon the end of the season and the end of Izzy, unfortunately, which I'm hoping is not. I'm hoping David has something up his sleeve. But what was your reaction when you learned it and how emotional was shooting that final scene? Because that final scene says a lot between...

Con: It was a... listen, I've been around a long time. The writing was on the wall when I started to read the scripts, and David had kind of hinted at it anyway when we went out for the famous dinner where he told me what the plan was, and I was gutted because I loved playing him so much. But, yeah, narratively, yeah, it makes sense. And I have complete faith, respect, love, admiration for David Jenkins, and whatever he thinks or wants to happen in season three will be the right thing if he gets season three, which I, whether I'm involved in it or not, I really hope he gets it, because he deserves it. And the show deserves it. The show deserves its triangle. It deserves it. But, yeah, it took a few days to sink in, and then I was fine. I was incredibly tired by that time. And I was lonely, as... really lonely because I was so far away from home filming all these scenes, and I tended to isolate when I was filming because of the nature of the work. So when I wasn't filming, I was sword training, or I was working out, or I was learning to walk on that fucking leg, or I was whatever whatever whatever. So I found myself isolating a lot. And in a way, it was a relief to be released from it. The final scene David had sent to me several weeks earlier. And I prepped, as I always do, and I prepped and I prepped and we were going to shoot at the beginning of the last week, and then it got shifted to the middle of the last week, and then it got shifted to the morning of the last day, and then it was shifted to the last thing we were going to shoot in the entire season. And there's always a dark cloud around those scenes because you never quite know how it's going to play. And there's a lot of pressure. And it being the last thing we were going to shoot, put more pressure on. And we were on the ship, which is a huge set, hundreds of crew members, the cast, everyone who could possibly be there was there. And I was getting quite unsettled by the amount of cacophony of noise and people. And then we rigged it all up, and it was still just [noise]. And then suddenly it was just me and Taika and just saying goodbye to a character we both fell in love with. And it was... it was a, I'm saying 'profound' a lot, but it was a profound experience doing that scene because everything else disappeared. It was just me and him. It was just Izzy and Blackbeard. And it was a lovely lovely moment.

SP: It was painful, but-

Con: It was lovely to be held by-

SP: -beautiful to watch.

Con: Yeah. Thank you. I mean, it's lovely to be held by another actor just... creatively and likewise with me to him. And David had a playlist playing and it was... elegant to do. It was nice to do. It was a nice, fitting ending to that chapter of this character. And I'll always be grateful that they shot it in that way.

SP: I do have to wrap. I just want to say before we do, I really enjoyed your rendition of La Vie En Rose. fantastic.

Con: Thank you.

SP: That's beautiful. And I appreciate all the work you did in the series, and I hope we see you again. And hopefully maybe you'll have a cooking show too, along the way, because I'd love to see what you make in that kitchen.

Con: Come on and let's bake together. Oh, I can't bake. I'll cook. It's lovely l ovely talking to you, Stephen.

SP: Great talking to you as well. Have a great day.

Con: Thank you. Bye bye.

SP: Thank you.

[thescarletnargacuga]

DEFYING GRAVITY

A harlequin AU showtime songfic!

Harlequin AU credit: @tadc-harlequin-au @iamespecter

A quasi-sequel to chandelier

WARNING: alcohol

~~~

Pomni and Caine were in the dining room having the time of their life. They were an uncountable amount of bottles into their drunken shenanigans and were treating the former formal room to the greatest show on earth. Caine stood on the table, holding his cane like a microphone. Every unsteady step he took knocked something to the floor; plates, cutlery, candelabras. "Ladies and gentlemen! Puppets of all ages! Prepare to be amazed by the marvelous, high-flying acro-botic harlequin!"

He pointed to Pomni, sitting on a large mounted animal head, high above the floor. She stood and bowed, almost falling forward, but caught herself. She leapt from her perch, grabbed a chandelier like a trapeze and swung to a second chandelier over the table. She let go to grab the next but missed.

Caine almost fell over his own feet scrambling to catch her. He got her and gave her a cheeky smile. "Nice of you drop in."

Pomni was too drunk to care about his stupid joke. She laughed. "I missed."

"I know. Let's not do that again. How about a song? The stage is still ours!"

"Fuck yeah! Where's the music?"

"Bubble!" Caine called and the blimp butler puttered in.

"Yes?"

"We need music! Make it a catchy one!" Caine hiccuped.

"You got it, boss." Bubble played a random music track over his speaker.

"Wait! I know this song!" Pomni jumped out of Caine's arms and climbed a china cabinet, the fragile plateware inside clanked together. She stood proud and started belting the song. "Something has changed within me. Something is not the same. I'm through with playing by the rules of someone else's game! Too late for second guessing! Too late to go back to sleep! It's time to trust my instincts, close my eyes and leeeeeeap!"

She jumped from the cabinet, grabbed a banner hanging from the ceiling and swung around on it like an aerial silk. "It's time to try defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

Caine's eyes sparkled as he watched Pomni fly overhead. To see her so full of life made him feel like he was on top of the world. He posed and sang the next verse before Pomni could. "I'm through accepting limits cause someone says they're so. Some things I cannot change, but till I try I'll never know! Too long I've been afraid of losing love I guess I've lost. Well, if that's love, it comes at much too high a coooost!"

He leapt from the table, kicked off the wall and grabbed a banner. He swung freely across from Pomni. "I'd sooner buy defying gravity! I'd wake up high defying gravity! Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me dooown!"

They made eye contact, smiling as the song continued. The song felt so freeing to sing. Even if they didn't really know why. Maybe it was the booze. Maybe it was the feeling of swinging around on the ceiling. But this just felt right.

"Unlimited. My future is unlimited." Pomni sang. "And I just had a vision, almost like a prophecy." She looked longingly at Caine. He looked different... almost human. She blinked, and the vision cleared. "I know, it sounds truly crazy."

"And true, the vision's hazy." Caine swung closer, grabbed her banner and pushed her around the room.

"But I can see it!" Pomni sung at Caine.

"I can feel it!" Caine sang back.

"And so I'll be so hiiiigh!" Pomni held on with just her legs and held her arms up as she swung.

Caine joined her in singing the held word as their banners twisted together.

"Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Pomni was bursting with real joy. She was practically in Caine's face as she sang. "So if you care to find me, look to the Western sky!"

Caine leaned in to her a little. "Has someone told you lately, everyone deserves the chance to flyyyy!" He swung around and untangled their banners, sending Pomni swinging on her own again.

"And if I'm flying solo, at least I'm flying free!"

Caine swung to kick off the wall. "To those who'd ground me, take a message back from meeeee! Yeah, yeah!" He swung out to Pomni and jumped to her banner, putting them both on the same one. He steadied himself putting an arm around her. She grabbed on to him, not protesting the closeness.

They sang together as the song crescendoed. "It's time to try defying gravity! I'm way up high, I'm defying gravity!" They locked eyes. "Kiss me goodbye, I'm defying gravity! And you won't bring me, and you won't bring me dooooooown!"

They sang together so perfectly, they surprised themselves. All smiles and out of breath, Caine leaned close. "Pomni, you're incredible."

"I know." She giggled drunkenly. Her heart felt warm. The soul fragment within her hummed in response to Caine. It felt like her soul was literally trying to touch his. By the look on his face, he was experiencing the same thing. "Caine..?" She leaned in even closer.

"Pomni..." He moved in with the intent of kissing her, but millimeters before contact, a sudden jolt downward startled them. They looked up to see that their shared banner was tearing from the ceiling.

They looked back at each other and the banner ripped. They fell in a heap to the table below. Pomni sat up and pushed the heavy banner off of them. "Fuck...that could not have been worse timing." She pouted.

Caine sat up and gave her a look. "We could still-"

"Nope. Moment ruined." She pushed Caine away and he fell off the table.

"What is going on in here!?" Ragatha stormed in, holding a broom. "YOU TWO!" She pointed at Caine and Pomni. "Stop wrecking this manor room by room! SOMEONE HAS TO CLEAN IT!"

Pomni and Caine scattered like a couple of cockroaches, fleeing from Ragatha's wrath.

[whileyoureinschoolidothisallday]

I love Interview with the Vampire so much and I know I always bring disability into the conversation but I'm not sorry because I really think it's a media lens too frequently glossed over.

And I can't watch Claudia's experiences being infantilized and not bring it back to disability.

Compared to the other vampires, Claudia is disabled. They even say it in the show as one of the rules: members of the coven are not allowed to change the disabled, the maimed, or children, lumping all of these things together as particularly cruel to inflict vampirism on. They talk about it all the time behind her back. She's wrong. She's the wrong kind of vampire, she won't last long, and her mind is fragile and will break before the rest of theirs because of the way she was made. Even though the vampires KNOW better, they still treat her like a child as much as humans do, just in slightly different ways.

I watched the post-show interview and they talked about how Claudia is desperate for people to take her seriously, demands it even. It's not her fault that she was made the way she was. It's not her fault her body looks like it does. She didn't ask for it, and yet she is punished for it. Her options are people less mature than her who she shares nothing in common with, and people who are too weirded out by the way she looks to touch her. So, she changes her clothes to look like a lady, more mature. She changes her hair. She learns languages, dialects, history, geography--she arms herself with knowledge beyond even Louise and yet in all of their schemes she is forced to play the child's role cause that's all anyone will believe about her no matter how she carries herself. Being disabled is perpetual adolescence no matter how old you are, what you've achieved, or how you look.

And then she meets the vampire coven. And they actually have intellectual conversation with her. They have the same pride for vampirism that she does, because despite everything she still loves being a vampire. She only ever wanted that pride and identity to be acknowledged by somebody other than her guilty maker. The coven calls her flea, less, but she can handle a little hazing if it means somebody will finally takes her seriously for once. It pays off. They include her in conversation, they give her a job to do. They let her join in on the rituals, they put their hands over her, she drinks their blood, they are one.

And it makes the punchline all the more heartbreaking. When they tell her she'll be in the play. A new one, written for her in mind. She's so excited until they wheel in her gift...a blue baby girl dress. And then it all sinks in at once. These people she thought were her tribe, who she just dedicated herself to, never saw her as an equal. She was just a tool, a prop, entertainment. Just like the humans. Just like always. When they called her "less", they meant it.

"...You want me to play the baby?"

It's true disabled horror and I'm not gonna shut up about it.

[shini--chan]

Hi! I just wanted to see if you would be willing to write for the Yandere Template I for Armin and Levi from AoT? I hope you have an amazing day!

Thank you, you as well. Armin's character sheet will come out next month

Yandere Character Sheet I - Levi Ackerman

Trigger warnings: coercive behaviour, physical abuse, abuse of authority, mutilation, murder, verbal abuse, blackmailing, deliberate scaring

Attributes - What sort of Yandere is he/she?

The first thing that comes to mind is awkwardness. Levi wouldn't be a very communicative person and would perform poorly when it comes to words. Having spent his life either as a criminal or a soldier in the military, he would display a very cramped communication style - rough around the edges, harsh and aimed at commanding respect and authority. Wooing another person would be outside his realm of expertise, and it would show. Instead of sweet words and grand gestures, he would fall back on what he knows best - domination and assertion. Friendly isn't something that Levi does. Oh, he would know all too well how to manipulate, how to frighten and how to motivate people. That still doesn't mean he knows what to do with love, or even to handle more nuanced human interactions. Thus, his interactions with you would be filled with orders and threats, with the romance being lacking. With how he would treat you, you’d feel more like a servant or a prostitute. 

Which leads us to the next trait - roughness. Not just in the metaphorical sense, of him being rough around the edges, but also being rough in his interaction. Being as desensitised to violence as he is, it wouldn’t even occur to him that some of his behaviour is out of the ordinary. Brutality is just his way of life, and thus it would also become part of yours; you would just be on the receiving end. Thus, don't expect him to be kind, or indulge in romancing you. If anything, he would find the idea of wooing you the expected way, to be cheesy and unnecessary. Mostly, he would rely on his status and force of personality to attract you and keep you with him. Don't believe that he would tone down his swearing or crude jokes around you.

To him, you would be an escape from the stresses of his career and past. To him, you would be his happiness and freedom, and thus he would loathe to have to conform to societal expectations around you. Of course, when you're out in public, you'll both have to play by the rules, so he would coach you on how you have to behave around other people. There would be topics you would have to avoid, a certain demeanour you should showcase and designated people you would be forbidden from interacting with. Away from the public eyes, you'd have to fulfil roles in the private sphere. Should you fail, he'd become irritated or also angry and then life would become more difficult for you, even painful at times. 

It would go without saying that he would be overly strict with you. Levi would be of the opinion that constant comfort just ruins character, and that on top of that, you would need a firm hand to keep you in line. Thus, he would set up ironclad rules that he would expect you to follow without error or complaint. Furthermore, he wouldn't tolerate any loophole abuse - you would be expected to follow the spirit of his "laws'' as well as the letter. A meticulous schedule would be established that you would have to follow consistently.

 You wouldn't be blamed for deeming him controlling - he is after all. For him, it would be a coping mechanism to make his erratic lifestyle and difficult past more bearable. And to prevent his history from repeating itself. Everybody that he has loved turned their backs on him, either through death or by walking out of his life. Levi wouldn't tolerate you doing the same. Even the wish to do so would be seen as betrayal by him, and you would have to be punished for it. 

In many ways, he would be patronising to you. Compared to him, you're just so fragile and stupid. You would need him to survive, and to thrive you would have to obey his every command. All in all, he would regard himself as more experienced than you, having lived a turbulent and harsh life. How can you even dream of holding a candle to his flame? Best fall in line and take his every word to heart, since Levi knows best. 

To make matters worse, he would be rather irritable. Poor communication skills married with very high expectations would lead to him becoming very waspish when things don't go his way. Life with you is supposed to be filled with domestic bliss, a life shared with a person that he can unconditionally trust. Should you act in ways that shatter or even just crack that dream, he'll strive to painfully remind that you've misstep. 

Cornering - How would they get you?

Oh, there could be a multitude of ways that he could orchestrate this. One of his most fundamental plans of action, however, would be to ensure that you believe that you have to be with him, for whatever reason. This could be achieved through threatening to hurt your loved ones, blackmailing you into submission, or making you convinced of the fact that your life would be worse off without him. Else, he can make life miserable should you defy him - should he come forth with accusations about you, whose word would hold more sway? Yours or his? 

Other than that, he isn't strictly above using his authority to manoeuvre you to where he wants you to be. Perhaps martial law has been declared, and you are a citizen that has to heed his command. You could be subordinate to him in one way and he would pull the strings to make you dance to his tune. 

That being said, he is rather clumsy when it comes to social interactions and he is very conscious of it. Therefore, he would sic a friend or a subordinate unto you, and let them do all the dirty work. The argument that he would use would be that he works better when you're at his tender mercies, and that therefore you would have to be delivered to him. 

Once, he was also a thug, and despite all the education and regulation and development, traces of that mentality would still exist in him. A knife to the throat may be used to make you come with him, or to stay still when he talks with you. Regardless of your gender, he wouldn't shy away from manhandling you - subduing you with a few well placed hits or kicks, putting a knee on your back to make you stay down or slinging you over his shoulder. Gradually, you would become accustomed to this behaviour, and stop protesting, not that it would have helped much anyway. 

Expectations - What do they expect of you?

A lot and the expectations would be high. Of course, you would be good and fulfil all of them, yes? Else, he'll just have to help you along the way. 

Be clean and invest time in putting things in order. Cleanliness is next to godliness, after all. If you can't keep such basic matters in good shape, how can he expect you to be capable of anything else? Also, bad hygiene leads to sickness and death, and is a symptom of poverty. He wouldn't want you to unwittingly shorten your own life just because you can't brush your teeth twice a day. If you have to interact with him and her not cleanly already, then you'll quickly become so - just to make him less irritated and more benign in your interactions. 

While not all that important, he would prefer for you to be cynical. Not in that you are pessimistic and choleric, but in that you abstain from luxuries and comforts you could have. While he might fight so that others can live a peaceful and cosy life, he looks down on them exactly because of that. A too easy life corrupts the character and leads to weakness and arrogance in his eyes. Do not fall into that trap, and avoid becoming soft. He would treat you with more respect if you do. Else, he'll see you as even more fragile, and on top of being patronising, he would also be disdainful towards you. 

Speaking of respect, he would demand that you treat him with dignity and respect. He only survived in the Underground, even thrived, by not letting people step on his toes without there being consequences. He is a man that demands to be recognised as competent authority - if his own wife won’t abide, then why should his men. The image of “Humanity’s Strongest” is something that nobody should spit on, especially not you. If anything, you would be held up to even higher standards, and be expected to dote on him. Levi would want a supporting spouse, not another enemy he has to outmanoeuvre and subjugate or eliminate. Though, he would take it too far at times - having been starved of proper affection and love for so long, he’d want you to be all the more indulgent. 

Tying into the two traits mentioned above, he would want you to display and possess strength of character. Don’t be the sort to simply buckle under pressure, or to burst into tears when things don’t go your way. Don’t be a child, he isn’t in charge of raising you. That being said, if you “act like a child” then he wouldn’t shy away from treating you like one. But more to that later. The point is that he wants somebody that he can respect as well, that has dignity and strength and a sense of purpose. Best be decisive and don’t flip-flop between possibilities. 

Though, one thing above all - be honest with him. You two are not supposed to be enemies, so don’t act like it. He isn’t some rival you have to trick, or a youngster that has to be shielded from the world. Besides, if you lie too often, or omit the truth one time too many, he’ll lose trust in you and you don’t want that. It would just make your life more difficult than it already is. If you are dishonest, then he’ll wonder what else you’re hiding from him and become forceful. Keep in mind, what you define as forceful might be considered gentle in his books. 

Faded - Would they let go of you in any way?

Not willingly, since you would be his happiness. However, if his actions, and the consequences thereof, would culminate in an ego-shattering blow, then he would release you out of guilt. Levi sees himself as a protector and guardian. Should that image, in regards to you, be annihilated, then he would give up his life with you to keep you safe. Though, it would take a lot for him to reach this stage. 

Tied with would be Levi’s loyalty to his own core principals. He has a sense of honour and loyalty, and values that he wouldn’t sacrifice for your sake. Should he have to choose between abiding by his own values and you, he would choose the former. In the case that he knows you want out, then he would be very careful to make sure that it doesn’t come to such a scenario. 

Punishment - How would they proceed if you do something they disapprove of?

As a rule of thumb, Levi Ackerman keeps a very tight leash on his emotions, so acting out impulsively wouldn’t happen very often. This is important because all his actions towards you are thought out and purposeful, including the times he punishes you. While it would be tempting to simply beat you black and blue to teach you a lesson, you aren’t one of his soldiers. You aren’t a nosy civilian or a bandit or the enemy, so it would be wrong to treat you such. However, that doesn’t mean that physical violence is off the table. He could frame it that it looks like an accident, even to you. In the bonds of training, accidents happen all the time, especially if people have stupid reactions. Perhaps he’ll step on your foot and make you fall over, causing you to either break your leg or arm. Maybe he’ll be too forceful with a training sword, and it would break your skin and slide along the muscles and tendons without cutting anything. 

Of course, he could also make it perfectly clear that he is harming you and that it is his intention. It could be something as simple as a slap to the face or a harsh pinch in the side, or something as grave as tying you down and scaring you. It would be him leaving his traces on you, marking his territory so that no other would show interest in you. Also, so that you would be more reluctant to give you to somebody else. Such a chastisement could be the result of you “drawing unwanted attention” to yourself.  

Still, he would feel guilty, because that isn’t how lovers are supposed to treat each other. His solution to this dilemma would be to make you ask him to punish you. How can he say no when you’ve seen the errors in your ways and choose to repent? And if you ask him so nicely, then you’ll surely say thank you after he is finished. It would be a way to legitimise his treatment of you in his own eyes, as well as in your mind and to any third party. 

At the end of the day, he is a military man and would also employ military punishment. Working you to the bone until you are exhausted, making you do exercises while injured or paperwork while you’re sick. Naughty lovers like you sometimes need detention like an ordinary soldier. Or a stern reprimand, but with his potty mouth, that would become old fast; not that that would stop him from insulting you however.

Reaction - How would they react to you escaping?

Here, he’ll regard you with the same attitude a normal person would show a dog that ran away. Be thankful that it wouldn’t be more than that, else he would end up breaking your spirit in the ensuing hunt. As it is, you running away would irritate him immensely and you would be on thin ice around him for weeks afterwards. The longer you’d manage to evade him, the more frustrated and angry he’ll become; and the greater his respect for you will be. As strange as it may seem, he does like when you show that you can stand your ground. However, he’ll never let your candle grow brighter than his own flame. Curtailing your actions would be a way for him to ensure that. 

Most likely, he’ll enlist somebody to help him in some shape or form. It would probably catch you off guard when he isn’t the one that retrieves you, but somebody you don’t even know about. It would also be an oppotunity for him to flaunt his power to you, and strangle any thoughts of future escape attempts in the cradle. You’d be dragged before him, and he’d sit there, high and mighty while looking down on you. 

Though, he’d also take his time to hunt you down, should he be really upset. What better way to let off steam than to track you down and make you pay?

Turnabout - Scenario: You have the upper hand? What would be different from their usual MO?

The matter about power is that it isn’t a zero sum game. If you are foolish enough to believe that, then he would indulge you in order to yank the carpet from under your feet later. Levi wouldn’t trust you to have complete control over anything greater than your clothing choices, so for you to be in charge of his life … only over his dead and rotting body.

What he would allow, is for you to think that you have the upper hand, and can leave anytime you want. That way, you would become complacent and soft - easier for him to handle and manage. And when it would finally dawn on you that all the power you allegedly have is only nominal, then it would already be too late. 

Should you actually gain the upper man, then he would seek to reverse the roles as quickly as possible. He would do it in a way that you wouldn't catch on until it is too late. While he has difficulty with social interactions, he isn't incapable of sublimity or deception. You would be treated like an enemy on the battlefield and be punished as such. Trying the outlast him wouldn't work, since he would just continue until you would give in. 

Vengeance - What would they do in the face of competition?

Being a practical man, preferably through a physical altercation. Nothing teaches a better lesson than bodily pain. Besides, if there is anything that Levi would have learned, then it is that actions speak louder than words. While diplomacy can be good, Levi would rather skip the preamble and go directly to business. Most of the competition would scarper after having to suffer some discomfort and cease trying to "rescue" you. As for the rest - Levi would have a few ideas on how to deal with that sort. 

People tend to become more subdued after losing a body part and that would be the way forward for him. Though, if circumstances wouldn't allow for such thorough actions, then there would be alternatives that he would resort to - such as paralysing them from the waist, or the neck, down. Slicing through tenons and ligaments means that they have to be rejoined, and even then they would never be the same as before - hands become useless and feet lame. The old injuries and scars ache on cold winter nights and during thunderstorms. In that way they would always be reminded of their misdeeds, and they would carry the consequences thereof for the rest of their lives. 

Of course, there would be those that would still persist. It would make matters both easier and harder for him, in different aspects. He could showcase it as besmirching his honour and kill the other in a public duel, so as not to lose face, regardless of their social class. On the flip side, it would put the spotlight on the two of you, and lead to the wrong people taking interest in the situation. 

[rotxos-sweeetheart]

Shards.

What if Spiders mask broke?

Tiny mention of neglect.

The inspiration behind this: here

—

It had been two months since the fight, Neteyams death, and Spider saving Quaritch.

Kiri knew, Spider didn’t know how but one day Kiri had just shown up and told Spider she wasn’t upset. That Eywa needed Spider to save Quaritch.

He didn’t think anyone else knew.

The Sully’s were healing, and had begun treating Spider better.

Spider swears he nearly fainted when Neytiri, who never cared for him, shoved a beaded necklace at him.

Ronal seemed to take that as a challenge.

Spider had been all but officially adopted into the Metkayinan family.

Supprisinly, it had been Ronal who went to him first. She had seen this small injured human boy behind the Sully’s, and decided he would be hers.

It took Ao’nung a day to decide his mother was right.

When they had learned about the treatment Spider had been given but the Sully, and most other, adults, there was a few fights.

Ronal was outraged at this poor boys treatment, and Tonowari was angry for Spiders childhood. The siblings were mad that their little big brother was treated so badly.

When he showed up wearing Neytiri’s necklace, Ronal and Tsireya spent most of the night making him a top, he was wearing one of Tsireya’s right now, from her childhood, it helped when he was in the sun all day, and when he was playing with the others.

Close to sun rise, Ao’nung had walked to his mother and sister, handing them a bead for Spiders top.

He had made this bead when he was a child, and refused to allow anyone to even braid it into his song cord. The meaning did not escape the women.

Nor did it escape Spider, when he saw the bead he’d heard tales about in his new top.

He wore it with pride, happy, and bragged to anyone, wether they wanted to here or not.

Like that, the war between the mothers was on.

—

Spider had been playing with his siblings, both sets, when it happened.

He grabbed Ao’nungs tail, in return Kiri shoved Spider, Lo’ak nudged Kiri, Tsireya shoved Lo’ak, Ao’nung went for Kiri, and Spider tickled Tuk.

At least, that had been the plan.

Instead of tickling Tuk, he fell. Onto the sand. Mask first.

*Crack*

Everything stopped.

It would have been comical if Spider wasn’t so frightened.

He could see so much clearer.

His mask was broke

All hell broke lose in a split second.

Kiri screamed.

Tuk cried.

Lo’ak shouted.

Ao’nung shoved his hands onto Spiders face.

Tsireya prayed to Eywa.

Jake and Neytiri were frozen.

Ronal was seconds away from fighting, probably Neytiri.

Tonowari was crying, holding Tuk.

Spider was-

Spider wasn’t reacting.

He was more focused on the fact he was breathing.

Actually breathing.

He mask was shattered, and Ao’nung had cuts on his hands from pressing them into Spiders broken mask and face, and Spider was breathing.

Kiri was the first to react. It took seconds for her to realise her person was breathing okay.

In Pandoran air.

Ao’nung was next. He could feel Spiders breathe against his bloody hands. Measured, even breaths.

His brother was breathing.

Ronal was next.

She knew Spider was special, could feel it. And now Eywa had proved it. Eywa had given her baby a blessing to help him survive.

Tuk, Lo’ak, and Jake realised next.

Spider was going to be okay.

Tonowari and Neytiri realised at the same time.

Tonowari felt a huge wave of relief, his new son, his fragile baby, was okay, was a bit less in danger.

Neytiri…

Neytiri was scared. There was this child she’d been treating as little more than a pet, and here was actual real proof that he was Eywa blessed.

This happened in the span of a second.

Pure silence encased a third.

The fourth second was chaos.

Ronal and Tonowari rushed forwards to him, grabbing him and spinning, thanking Eywa.

Kiri whooped with pure elation, her person would be okay and now everyone one knew he belonged.

Neytiri couldn’t think. Spider was blessed by Eywa and Neytiri had actively tried too keep him away, to make him leave.

Jake didn’t know what to think. He knew he hadn’t treated Spider the best, but he had tried right? Jake caught Neytiri, she had collapsed into him.

Jake held Neytiri, and turned to walk away. Spider was not their family, they had both seen to that. This was not their moment.

Lo’ak wasn’t really moving, he was just smiling. So so happy his brother was going to be okay.

Ao’nung laughed. He joined his parents in celebrating his brother, and dragged Lo’ak and Kiri in to. His baby older brother was okay! He didn’t even flinch when Kiri spread some paste over his cut hands.

Tsireya picked Tuk up, smiling and giggling, and joined her family to celebrate. She didn’t have to worry so much any more, her little brother had now well and truely proved to all Na’vi and everyone that he was Pandorian, he belonged.

All the eight of them could think in that moment was: No one could take him away now.

—

Spider spent the rest of the day with his siblings.

They played for hours, everything seemed easier now that they weren’t worried about Spiders mask breaking.

Of course, now Spider had to learn to breath underwater, no longer able to rely on his exo-mask.

Ronal was insistent on there being a large cerimony for the Metkayina people, to celebrate Eywa’s clear acceptance of her son.

Spider thought it was just to rub it in Neytiri’s face.

He spent the night with his family. Tucked snugly in between Ronal and Tonowari, with Ao’nung cuddled behind him, and Tsireya at his front.

Ronal and Ao’nung had spent the better part of the evening touching, petting, and kissing all over his face, whilst Tsireya had worked on his stripes and hair, they’d been working on it for a while now, but he’d been so severely neglected she was only just getting through it. Tonowari made sure Spider was warm enough, and comfortable.

—

It wasn’t his born family, or his grow-up family.

But this was Spiders family.

And that was enough.

Being able to breathe the same air was a blessing, one he would thank Eywa for everyday.

He slept that night dreaming of a dwarfed Tulkun, swimming along side him.

~~~

Bonds

Hii! Again, @meenawrites was the inspiration behind this!

I apologise if the end isn’t as good, my hamster had his forever nap so I’m a bit sad.

Let me know what you think?

And if you want more!

~Nik’an💙

[zhuoyichenpretty]

ep 24 commentary (brain fried edition)

my head is a little empty after ep 24 tbh!! brain is not braining after all the zyc hurt no comfort (-:

some scattered thoughts here and there, painstakingly corralled like cats out of my vacuous brain and into a list (spoilers):

ZYZ is really emo this episode poor dude like he is having a hard time keeping it together it seems. Every other word out of his mouth is depressing as shit, which is saying a lot considering how depressing he usually is already (': I kind of wanted this episode to pick his brain more, give him room to emote in the aftermath of all that. But it almost feels like the character refuses to be alone, like he might spiral if he has too much time to get in his own head. I'm still so curious to know, though, what he thinks about the state of their promise in light of how far ZYC went trying to save him. “He has us,” ZYZ said to WX. When the time comes, I wonder how he'll reconcile that with what he’s asked of ZYC.

PSJ and Ying Lei bonding! shenanigans! I did laugh thank you guys. Also, not that the team didn't operate separately before, but I really get a sense of how much ZYC held things together with how apparent his absence is. It's obvs heartwarming seeing how hard everyone is working to save him (PSJ especially for me bc I love their mutual tacit trust and respect and all the ways they're alike and different), but ultimately it's still so angsty (':

Kind of love the couple instances where ZYC has been referred to as fragile/weak/of delicate constitution (depending on how you wanna translate it) like that's a very interesting quality to assign to basically the tank of your team. Even if the comments are made facetiously, it just reminds me of how often we witness his mortality, and of course how everything about the styling, aesthetics, and content of the flashbacks to his childhood reinforce a characterization of vulnerability at the very heart of him. I saw someone mention how the Cloud Light Sword responded to ZYC's tears and to that vulnerability rather than brute strength, and I totally agree. I love how this "fragile" characterization plays into the whole fate weapon deal. ZYC's strength is (imo) unconventional, and it is his sensitivity, his compassion, and his deep capacity to feel that the sword acknowledges, resonates with, and empowers. Almost like it protects his tender heart rather than making it something he needs to overcome to get stronger.

One thing I will never get over is how incredibly they styled TJR as baby!Yichen, adult ZYC, and Bingyi. What do you mean this is all from one drama and not three separate productions. Insane. I'm out of my mind with how gorgeous every change in costuming is.

A tangential note is I've seen people mention (paraphrasing very much here) ZYZ's demon form being nicely subtle in its eerie inhumanity and tbh I have a similar feeling even just about human adult ZYC imo. Especially when his hair is down and he's got that thick eyeliner on and we get a close up of his contacts, if you told me from the start that he's half-demon half-human or something I'd believe it. Along the same vein, baby!Yichen reads completely human to me, and Bingyi of course completely demon. Something something the Cloud Light Sword bridges the gap something. This point is unintelligible and not narratively based but I had to make it because I've been thinking "wow ZYC elven" for days now.

Saw a tag about yuanyi getting us through some dark times but man they are PUTTING me through some dark times rn help?/

Been trying to put off talking about the baby Yichen scenes because wow I cried immediately. Well, no, I was like "yay! I love seeing baby Yichen!" and then they crushed me into demon dust lol. And then WX had to tell that absolutely precious story about when she got sick and ZYZ had to go like "actually ZYC was probably lonely as fuck" and yeah that's fine I didn't need my heart anyway.

Ending on this point so I can put a pretty screencap here: There is so much gravity to just the short scene of Bingyi removing his mask and dropping to his knees with that anguished and fatigued expression. TJR's acting is the gift that keeps on giving (me angst).

so sorry if anything here didn't make sense, i currently have the same thousand-mile-stare as Bingyi the more i think about how this all might end and how long I'm gonna have to wait to find out.