#driven mad by revenge
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shallowseeker · 2 months ago
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The ghostly specter of John's hopes and dreams in SPN 1x01:
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Above Baby Sam's crib, we see John's symbolic hopes and dreams. The crib mobile is filled with the baseball items John adores.
Baseball is a consistent special interest of John's, from the djinn dream where he plays softball to his #SPNwin dream of becoming a minor league catcher.
In SPNwin, he's not yet the monstrous inverse of his "dreamer" self. He's still the thing that attracted Mary to him: the soldier who hasn't lost his ability to dream. He keeps believing, even when Mary, a child-raised-soldier, feels like she can't muster up the strength to. Aside// Mary is like Dean this way, with lines like: "it only ends one way... bloody." On the other hand, John doesn't start there. It takes lying, coercion, and manipulation to get John's world to shrink, for his path[s] to narrow to hunting.
Hope is "what" John is (until, of course, he isn't):
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MARY: I don't know. He's sweet, kind. Even after the war, after everything, he still believes in happily ever after, you know? Supernatural, 4x13 In the Beginning
// Until Mary died, it seems his dreams were difficult to extinguish. His primary mode of being was hopefulness:
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Note: As Mary and John discuss their dreams, we see behind Mary some Jack Kline types of motifs, "The Future," crowing roosters, sunflowers, and a rainbow.
JOHN: See, I, I wanted to be a catcher for the Kansas City Athletics. MARY (fatalistic) : My parents never let me dream like that. Being a kid who killed monsters was my only option.
JOHN (wistful): You know, when I was a kid, I, uhm... I made this list of all of these places I was gonna go to look for my dad. Kept it for years, crossing off destinations, adding more. Enough time goes by... all you see is a list, you know? MARY (angry): Are you saying I should stop looking for my dad? JOHN: I'm saying that once you find him and leave hunting for good, you're gonna need a new list. The Winchesters, 1x03 You're Lost, Little Girl
We're familiar with the Winchester gun, but in the 20s Winchester (yes, the same gun brand: Winchester Rifles and Firearms Co) made a short run of baseball gear, known specifically for its top-of-the-line catcher's gear. It was outlasted by brands by Rawlings, Wilson, and Spalding.
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Vintage Winchester catcher gear goes for ~$700 on eBay.
//
Here, John, the ever-hopeful soldier who holds onto his dreams will lose those dreams. The dreams will go up in smoke, and he emerges from the flames like a demon possessed.
In the words of Lady Toni Bevell (12x21): "A mad slowly going mad, searching for revenge."
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the-star-rigel · 1 year ago
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bdubs saying the hourglass was doc’s revenge plan for “I don’t even know what” is exactly how I feel about doc this season
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kingcriccket · 3 months ago
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Crazy that Arcane directly set up a parallel between Cait and Jinx's wrongdoings & yet one of them has to go on a season-long redemption arc and die to be washed clean, and the other one just kind of felt sorry and then got a full happily ever after and it was fine.
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wardensantoineandevka · 1 year ago
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god, I really have to play Dishonored + Knife of Dunwall + Brigmore Witches again
#literally just currently thinking about Daud and The Flooded District and metaphor and the concept of The Narrative and roles#and being Serkonan and not really being Part of this but also you're indelibly part of it and being removed from it all#and how everything in this district does not matter and how everything here matters more than anything#Daud as gleefully engaging in the metaphor on purpose until he is being driven mad that nobody else sees the tandem of the narrative themes#The Flooded District as both the heart (haha) of the symbolism but also so distant from the meat of the narrative and what Corvo cares abou#being so genre aware it becomes like eldritch horror to you. being so far from what matters that suddenly your actions are more meaningful#this gang of butchers in a figurative butcher's market (the former Financial District) laying on top of a former literal butcher's place#this height of metaphor that is also so removed from the narrative that anything you do here doesn't “matter” per se#against a villain who is cracking under feeling he is the only one truly WITNESSING it all and is trying to exit the narrative#and that is the one place where you can choose actual mercy—BECAUSE of these things#the first real mission in the game where your only objective is to get out. where revenge is truly optional. where mercy is real and true.#among these assassins called whalers. in a flooded financial district overrun with plague where they butchered the first leviathans.#“And yet you choose... mercy. Extraordinary.”#anyway anyway anyway
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randomfaeriedragon · 11 months ago
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Prev don't you dare drive those scugs mad. Isn't the rain enough
People, especially games, get eldritch madness wrong a lot and it’s really such a shame.
An ant doesn’t start babbling when they see a circuit board. They find it strange, to them it is a landscape of strange angles and humming monoliths. They may be scared, but that is not madness.
Madness comes when the ant, for a moment, can see as a human does.
It understands those markings are words, symbols with meaning, like a pheromone but infinitely more complex. It can travel unimaginable distances, to lands unlike anything it has seen before. It knows of mirth, embarrassment, love, concepts unimaginable before this moment, and then…
It’s an ant again.
Echoes of things it cannot comprehend swirl around its mind. It cannot make use of this knowledge, but it still remembers. How is it supposed to return to its life? The more the ant saw the harder it is for it to forget. It needs to see it again, understand again. It will do anything to show others, to show itself, nothing else in this tiny world matters.
This is madness.
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bunni-v1 · 13 days ago
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May we get some crk thoughts, my liege? I too have a hyperfixation—
Shadow Milk Cookie Headcannons (SFW & NSFW)
🍓Thank you for the excuse to write this shit, I feel less insane being asked to do it lol. I still think this might taint my public image, so lets hope none of my future employers fuck with tumblr. Anyway only smc since he's who I'm obsessing over. I was gonna add pv, but I write wayyyy too much to include both of them on one post. Maybe I'll do him if someone asks nicely. I'll have a mix of both sfw and nsfw so beware lol.
MDNI (I'll find u)
TW: Shadow Milk Cookie; Obsessive behaviors; Stalking mentioned; Nsfw under the cut; unedited
Info: Shadow Milk Cookie x Reader; Sfw & Nsfw headcannons
Credit for Beast Bite Idea: @rollingeevee (go give them love I adore this AU)
-To start I'm gonna say, he's insane, like genuinely. He leans into a lot of yandere-esque behaviors, but I firmly believe he's not a full-on yandere, just really fucked up in the head (trauma and such, poor thing, wah wah wah.)
-Pre-Corruption Shadow Milk surely had a lot of admirers, but admiration is very different from genuine love and connection. He was, in a very literal sense, on a different level than all the cookies on earthbread. He's immortal, a god meant to care for all cookies, romantic relationships with cookies (other than the other heroes) just aren't an option in his mind. (For the sake of these, none of the beasts have had any romantic interaction with him, because I don't wanna deal with that can of worms rn.)
-All that to say, it's highly unlikely he has much experience in relationships. Maybe he's had flings, and some sexual encounters, but I doubt he would commit to someone he would inevitably lose to time. And, sure, he certainly could artificially extend their lifetime... but that's unethical and unfair to his partner. The burden of immortality is not one a regular cookie is baked to bear.
-So when he is inevitably corrupted and sealed away, romance isn't really a thought on his mind. He's very fixated on escaping that stupid tree and enacting his revenge. Which he does, at least in part, and with his freedom comes half of his powers and ensuing chaos.
-There are not many ways he could meet you if I'm quite honest, so I'll leave that up to personal interpretation. However you do meet him, though, you have to be intriguing. He gets bored of people easily, so you have to stand out -- be that in your demeanor or the way you speak or how you challenge him, it just has to be interesting. Once he's interested he's hooked.
-He's rather... mmm... obsessive? He likely stalks you for a while before he makes any moves. He wants to learn your patterns, the cookies you surround yourself with, the things you like, your job, your favorite foods, what flowers you like, and how do you feel about his chaos? He'll even manipulate things around you, just to see how you might react. (Is it fucked up? Yeah, lol! But isn't it equally endearing? He seems to think so.)
-You have frequent reoccurring dreams about him in this period of time. You've only seen him from a distance at this point, but you can't quite shake him from your thoughts. What's very important here is that you realize that your thoughts are not your own. Acknowledge that he's watching, and make sure that he's aware you're aware. Be that by purposefully doing something he could recognize as acknowledgment, or outright saying that you're aware he's messing with you. He values curiosity and intelligence in a person, if you can break yourself out of his cycle he's 100% sold on you.
-It doesn't take much longer after that for him to make his first official appearance. Bowing gracefully in front of you as he materializes from thin air, smiling like a man driven mad by infatuation.
-Believe it or not, he's really not all that creepy or pushy. He's very playful and charming, and while you have the knowledge he'd been watching you for a long time at this point, it's hard not to fall for him. He flirts with an ease that no other cookie really has, and he's so very funny never failing to get a smile out of you at his jokes.
-Now, this may go against what others characterize him as a lot, but I don't believe he's the type to steal you away and lock you up. Shadow Milk is a cookie who wants to be wanted, he doesn't want his feelings to be entirely one-sided, it would really hurt him to pour himself into someone who does not want to reciprocate his passions.
-He's unbelievably patient with you. Despite what the mental manipulation from earlier implies, he allows you to set the pace and make the moves, mostly nudging you gently in the direction he wants you to go now that he has your attention. Again, he wants you to choose him. He wants you to love him, so he will happily wait as long as it takes for you to realize and accept your longing for him.
-He gives you the flowers you like, and listens to you talk about your exceedingly boring days (with rapt attention, of course, he loves listening to you talk as much as he loves talking). If you ask, he'll take you anywhere you'd like to go on earthbread with a snap of his fingers, showing you sights you'd only dreamed of seeing. (Whether or not these are illusions are still up for debate).
-It's very hard not to fall for him with all this considered, and he knows that of course. He was just waiting for you to confess, and you have to confess. He won't do it even if you make it clear you want him to. It's not something he'd ever admit to you -- or himself -- but he doesn't want to risk even the slightest bit of rejection. It would break him more than he's already been broken, so you'll have to do it for our poor little jester.
-When you do though? Oh, he's over the moon! Practically swooning as he scoops you up and spins you around in celebration. He's so overjoyed. He is wanted, there is someone in this world who loves him genuinely. There's no false platitudes or any worshipping done, just raw affection between the two of you. (Just the tiniest bit of manipulation at the start, but obviously you've dismissed and forgiven that at this point).
-Again, he doesn't immediately take you away from your life if you don't wish to be. He does heavily encourage you to come spend your days with him, though. He can take care of you, he's literally a god, you'll never ever want for anything so long as he can control it (which he can, duh).
-I feel it very important to emphasize that in a relationship with him, you are equal. Even if you literally cannot be equal in stature and power, you are equal in the relationship -- if anything you have more sway over him than he does over you. He's very, very in love with you, and he will do just about anything you ask of him so long as it doesn't interfere with obtaining his souljam.
-Having established that, let's get to the fun stuff.
-Shadow Milk Cookie is very physically and verbally affectionate. If you are around him it's likely he's touching you in some way. Whether that's him literally hanging off you like a baby monkey or just a hand on your arm, he likes to have a physical tether to you.
-Plenty of messy wet kisses all over your cute little face, he loves seeing you get all flustered and feeling your dough burn up from his barrage of affections.
-It's also very common for him to carry you around in various different styles. Over the shoulder, piggback, princess style, like a sack of potatoes... doesn't really matter. It's also a regular occurrence that you fall asleep as he floats around the spire of all knowledge. He doesn't need sleep, and he does not sleep often, but he likes holding you while you do so. It's proof of your trust in him, and he usually uses the time you are sleeping to be more genuinely affectionate. Soft words whispered in your ears bringing you sweet dreams as he runs his hands up and down your back, kissing the crown of your head with such love it would make a grown man blush.
-He calls you cute little nicknames, like shortcake or sweet thing. The most common, and his favorites, are doll/dolly and little star. (Little star is something he hums with such affection it makes you weak in the knees. You know he's feeling more adoring when he uses it.) Talks about how cute you are, how pretty you are, how desirable you are. How any cookie would be so lucky to have you -- too bad they could never compete with him!
-That being said, most of his affections are pretty surface-level stuff at the start of the relationship. At least, what you get to see. He has a hard time opening up to others, he's a very sensitive cookie deep down in his dough. It takes quite a while to get him out of his shell and start showing you who he is as himself.
-Who he is, is a very aching cookie. He lost so much, struggled with his own corruption, and still hasn't fully accepted it himself. He feels as though he has been betrayed and discarded by everything he once loved, it's no wonder he has a hard time showing you such ugly sides of himself.
-You warm him up, melt him slowly, and you get to see peaks of genuine love and adoration behind those heterochromatic eyes. He may never allow you to see all of him at once, but you do get to know him. If you continue to love him despite seeing the uglier side of things, there is a distinct shift in the way he showers you in affection.
-Initially, he's very showy with everything, his love is a spectacle for the two of you to watch. It's almost like he's put himself outside of the relationship rather than in it. After he opens up, it's quieter, more intimate. He's more involved in it, like it's less about showing you how much he loves you, and more about sharing that mutual feeling between the two of you.
-You didn't have much room to show him how much you cared for him, but now you do. He allows you to initiate physical affection and doesn't flinch away at the touch. He accepts your words of admiration for what they are, not questioning your intentions for any reason.
-Kisses are softer, more full of emotion. Less like he's drowning you and more like he's trying to swallow you up. Desperation to have you as close to him as possible can take him over quite frequently during make-out sessions, and they leave you breathless and fuzzy rather than burning and flustered.
-Now, you can't write Shadow Milk without acknowledging how fucking jealous he is all the time. Now, I believe it's less of a jealousy thing (though, that really is something that is frequent), and more of a possessive/protective thing.
-He doesn't get jealous of the average cookie, alright, not unless you show interest for whatever reason. They're not really a threat to him, and why would they be? He's secure enough to know that you wouldn't leave him for some random half-baked simpleton. HOWEVER, he DOES get jealous of the other beasts and especially Pure Vanilla Cookie.
-The other beasts aren't as powerful as him, but they're still powerful and cunning (some of them at least). Truly, on a level of divinity and ability to care for you, they are his closest competition. Even still, he only gets jealous if one of them seems to want to stake a claim on you, or you become too fascinated with one of them.
-If neither is the case, he highly encourages you to form relationships with them. They are cookies that, seemingly, he cares for. While they can be difficult to get along with, if you are someone Shadow Milk deems worth his time, you are someone they will also deem worth their time.
-Ah, I should also mention he gets... pouty about Black Sapphire and Candy Apple. He doesn't see either of them as a threat, so I couldn't say he's jealous... he just gets annoyed when you're being attentive to them when he's around. Black Sapphire is smart enough to set hard boundaries with you to start, for both of your sakes, but your relationship with him is very positive. You are Shadow Milk Cookies partner, after all, you're a very important Cookie and Black Sapphire has no reason to be unkind to you.
-Candy Apple Cookie on the other hand is the one who's jealous here. You find her positively adorable and her little crush on Shadow Milk is nothing but endearing in your eyes, but she very much is huffy about your relationship with him. Of course, she can't do anything to you, that would only turn against her in the end so she just pouts. You can win her over slowly, though, just by being sweet to her and comforting her when Shadow Milk rejects her once again.
-Your relationship with them seemingly pleases Shadow Milk, though you can't really tell if he's happy or not. Sometimes he seems pleased, other times he's pouty, so who really knows other than him.
-However, the cookie that really seriously gets under his skin the most is Pure Vanilla. He does everything in his power to keep the two of you as far away from one another as possible, but it's almost inevitable that you meet PV, especially when he becomes Truthless Recluse.
-Pure Vanilla is everything Shadow Milk is not. Kind, gentle, patient, soft-spoken, and of course truthful. He's very afraid you may meet PV and realize that you do not want to be with him anymore. You would rather have someone like Pure Vanilla Cookie to dote on you in a fashion that he cannot bring himself to do openly yet.
-Of course, you don't, but that doesn't stop the fear from seeping into his dough. The only way to ease him is by being patient and displaying your loyalty through and through. He won't really be calm until Pure Vanilla is take care of, but you can assure him that you won't be leaving him for his other half anytime soon.
-Circling back to his possessive and protective tendencies, Shadow Milk does see you as an object of his affection. He is fully aware you are your own cookie, you are not something he ever wishes to control entirely and remove autonomy from, but you are his. His to keep and love and protect.
-He's very obsessive about your well-being and happiness. If something hurts you (alive or not), it's gone, destroyed. He won't even make a show of it, it just disappears. If you are upset, he is there doing everything to make you feel better. Whatever you want, whatever you need! He's here for you, please rely on him (he needs you to rely on him).
-If you are out and about he keeps an eye on you, which you are aware of. It's rather obvious, so even if he doesn't tell you, you can feel him watching you. Ignoring it becomes easier with time, but if anything happens to you he wastes no time in popping up and taking care of whatever happens.
-This leads into my next headcanon (inspired by the ever-talented @rollingeevee go check them out!), he has a bite of sorts that he uses as a means of monitoring you. It's something he uses to pinpoint where you are at all times, even when he's not monitoring you actively. The bite acts as a connection between you and him, emotionally and physically tying the two of you together.
-You can feel what he feels through the bite, anger, sadness, joy, pretty much anything he feels you can feel. It also acts as a reminder to you that you should not stray too far from where he is, sending an uncomfortably heavy feeling through your dough. (This is a manifestation of his worry, and it only really happens when he notices you've gone somewhere a little too far from the safety of the spire).
-However, this goes both ways. He can also feel what you feel at the same intensity that you feel it. You can, likely less so, also tell where he is. There is a pull in the back of your mind from the magic telling you where to find him at all times, and it only lets go when you are in proximity of him. If you miss him, he feels the same heavy feeling in his dough reminding him that you would like him by your side.
-Now, finally, we have to address the topic of mortality. Shadow Milk is likely more aware than you ever will be of how mortal you really are. This is why he's so very protective and possessive of you, he doesn't want to lose you prematurely.
-However, if you are okay with it, he is completely fine with artificially extending your life span. In fact, he does it happily. He might even start doing it without asking if the topic hasn't been broached in a certain amount of time. He wants to spend as long as you'll allow him by your side, and if that means breaking a few rules of magic and cookie society then so be it. He's a god after all, he doesn't have to answer to anyone (other than the witches).
-Anyway, let's get to the shit you freaks are really here for. (Me, I'm freaks.)
-I don't really think sexual intimacy is something Shadow Milk desires all that much, but he more so likes it because it's... interesting? I'm sure he derives physical pleasure from sexual intercourse, but less so than the average cookie might. Most of his enjoyment comes from seeing you enjoy yourself.
-It goes without saying, but Shadow Milk Cookie is a freak. He's into pretty much anything under the sun (except maybe one thing...), and so long as you're down to try something he's happy to oblige you.
-He is a switch, but he leans dom most of the time, and you won't get him to sub early on in your relationship. That requires a bit too much trust for him, so he'll need time to be cool with giving you that kind of control over him. But he will bottom for you as your relationship progresses, and that's a whole different side to him.
-Lets start with him in a dominant role, though, since it's more common to get from him.
-Obviously, he's a tease, through and through. He loves to watch you squirm and react to the things he does. Tantalizingly light touches drawn over your dough, teeth grazing your soft body almost piercing but never quite getting deep enough, heated breath blown over your most sensitive spots but never relieving you with his mouth as you so desperately need.
-Truthfully he could spend another thousand years just tracing over you, committing each inch to memory until he's satisfied in knowing every inch of you. Unfortunately, (or fortunately), he's not nearly as patient in the bedroom as he is outside of it. Not with all of you on display for him, so trusting and open, ready for him to defile you. Oh, his sweet, sweet little dolly~
-Even with his impatience, his teasing does not stop. His hands continue to ghost over you, making sure you're still squirming even as he succumbs to his need to taste you.
-Oh, and tastes you he does. He doesn't have to subscribe to regular cookie physical limitations, so he somehow manages to swallow you whole. Jaw unhinging so he can get as much as he needs from you, tongue splitting itself to give you attention everywhere, and god is it long and dexterous. He can reach so very deep and it moves with such precision, it makes you cum embarrassingly fast.
-That is if he allows you to cum in the first place. He's a big fan of edging, which shouldn't be a surprise. He likes to get you so close, then deny you of your pleasure. Your whining and grumbling is the cutest thing on all of earthbread, don't you know? He can't help but edge you when you're so damn cute every time.
-Your pleasure is in his hands, and it requires such relinquishing of power and trust. In a weird way it makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside, especially when you thank him over and over once he finally allows you to come undone after hours of teasing.
-Speaking of, he is a big fan of being praised for the work he does on you. Your moans and pleas are reward enough, but if you mumble out about how good you feel, how much you love him, how amazing he is he'll become drunk on your praise. Chasing after it with fervor, meaning he's going down on you with so much more excitement somehow.
-He's into blood (jam?) play. He likes leaving physical reminders of your relationship all over your body (yes, even ur vag/dick if you let him). With how sharp his teeth are, it's impossible for you not to bleed when he does so, and he does really like the sight of your jam. It's so pretty and so different from his own, another reminder of how different you are, and how much you trust him. (He'll lick it up and purr at the taste.)
-Bruises are also littered about your dough, his grip on you is tight, like you might slip away from him. The treatment is rough and harsh, but it feels so nice to be manhandled by him. The bruises are just nice little reminders of who you belong to. (He gets all proud when other cookies worry about them, like he's done something worthy of praise).
-He likes watching, he's very much a voyeur. Occasionally requests that you pleasure yourself for him so he can watch you struggle to get off, and he'll only help you out when you're near tears begging him.
-He prefers coming across you by himself, without having to request it. Or just feeling waves of pleasure through your bite. He'll watch you quietly fuck yourself without letting you know he's there. (Though, you most certainly can feel his eyes on you, that's what makes it so fun right?) Sometimes he'll join you after, and other and times he'll leave you be, it's 50/50 either way and regardless you still end up happy.
-If anyone else walks in on you when you're alone, he's very unpleasant. Accident or not they'll learn to be more aware of their surroundings next time.
-That doesn't mean he's against being watched though. Actually, he finds the idea of someone else seeing how well he treats you enticing (especially if it's someone like Pure Vanilla hehe). If you are together and someone walks in (or spots you in public), he won't stop. Instead, he'll lock eyes with them and smile big and wide, showing off his favorite little dolly for them.
-He's just so proud of you, and you're so very pretty beneath him, the whole world should get to see how you fall apart for him. He'll even make you look at them just to see how you fluster.
-If the offender tries to do anything other than watch, though, well... I really hope they didn't want to live for much longer. He's very much not a sharer, at all. The idea of anyone even thinking they could touch you and make you feel good both makes him laugh and want to tear them apart at once.
-He's very much into roleplaying and can get really into it. To the point, it loses the sexiness and is just the two of you playing around, which can be a bummer but is usually really fun. He likes things that lean into power dynamics but explicitly avoids god/king and worshipper/subject. A little too close to home for him, and would honestly be too boring and basic for him.
-He loves it when you dress up for him in pretty little outfits, be it lingerie or something more cutesy, he adores it regardless. Going out of your way to pretty up for him is a huge turn-on. He also loves it when you let him dress you up how he likes. Regardless of what you're wearing, it's not coming off the whole night. It will get ruined and he won't apologize for it. Besides, he can just replace it, right?
-Sex is more fun for him, but he can be intimate when he wants to be. Usually, when you're in control, he is at his most gentle. Yes, he's a brat when he bottoms and he'll fight you tooth and nail, but once you get him to submit he's the softest and sweetest you've ever seen him.
-He looks at you like you're the god, wide eyes taking in everything you do with such admiration it might make you crumble on the spot.
-He's much quieter, treating it less like a spectacle. Moans soft and squeaky, like he's not used to using his voice in such a way. He clings to you like a vice at each little movement, almost afraid you might disappear if he lets you go.
-Oh, and he praises you so much. 'So good', 'Thank you', 'You're perfect', and 'I love you' all tumble from him with such genuine gratitude.
-Being allowed to let his guard down and have you take control is cathartic for him, which is why it's so uncommon to have it happen. It's why he fights you for control so hard because this is an intimacy he isn't used to. It is hard for him to allow you to see him so weak, but you never use it against him. You're so very sweet and loving, and it makes him melt like butter in your grasp.
-If you have the bite I mentioned earlier, it only makes things so much more intense. Both of you can feel the raw emotion connecting the two of you, making the pleasure heighten further.
-In fact, when he gives you the bite it's the first time he allows you to top him. To connect you to him makes him very vulnerable, so he would naturally have to be in a vulnerable state already when he does so.
-It's unlike any of his other bites, it's far more painful when he initially bites down, but when his magic flows through it your body feels light and airy. The pleasurable feeling wrapping itself around your spine, and you feel what he's feeling. All that adoration pours into your being at once, and it's overwhelming to really feel how much he loves you.
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gotstabbedbyapen · 6 months ago
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Why Apollo actually didn't have beef with Odysseus (spoiler for the Wisdom Saga)
Heads up, fellas: The rambling below contains spoiler for Epic the Wisdom Saga!
As we may know, in God Games, Athena needed to convince half of the Olympian council to approve Odysseus' release from Calypso's island. Apollo is the first god Athena encountered and the easiest for her to convince.
Now, why is that? Why does Apollo's beef with Odysseus seem way too easy to rebuke? He barely has any connection with the Sirens aside from the catchy songs, so why did he use them to "accuse" Odysseus (heavy on the quote-unquote because he barely even tried) and not the sacking of Troy, the murder of Astyanax, or the violation of the cows?
Here's my theory: Apollo has no real grudges against Odysseus. Apollo has every reason to be mad with the mentioned instances, but he is also the god of reason and rationality and knows there is no point in being angry.
First, as far as I know, Odysseus had not directly offended Apollo in the Trojan War or during his journey home. Apollo won't just harm anyone, he'd only take retribution against those who disrespected him greatly.
Second, the City of Troy had always been destined to fall so if it wasn't for Odysseus' wooden horse, someone else would have caused its demise. Apollo can't fault Odysseus for being part of the city's inevitable destiny.
Third, Apollo should be mad at Odysseus for killing an infant because he's the protector of the young, right? Well, in The Horse and The Infant, it was Zeus who told Odysseus that Astyanax was prophesied to take revenge on the Greek kings when he grew up, and he had to kill the infant to prevent that. Apollo is not one to go against his father's decree, so he wouldn't be mad at Odysseus for following suit.
(And if you look from a mythological standpoint, if Astyanax actually grew up to cause destruction to the Trojan War survivors, imagine how many sons and daughters of the Greek kings would suffer because the prophesied one was spared.)
Finally, why was he not mad with the cow thing??? Simple!
The cows were not even Apollo's, but Helios'. Apollo already gave his cows to Hermes in exchange for the lyre. So when Odysseus' crew killed the cows, they offended Helios, not Apollo. Of course, you could say Apollo should be mad on Helios' behalf, but that'll take us to point 2...
The crew killed the cows while Odysseus begged them to not. Odysseus didn't commit the crime or enable it, so he was in the clear. And lastly...
Odysseus' crew were already punished by death and Odysseus was left drifting in the sea and stuck on Calypso's island for seven years to the point of driven insane, so whatever "association" he could possibly have with the violation of the cows should be paid enough.
All that aside, Apollo has little to no beef with Odysseus and only makes up a flimsy "reason" to be mad out of obligation. He didn't care about bringing justice to Athena's favorite mortal, he probably only wanted to have fun in the family drama because hey, how often do you get to see your oldest sister asking for a favor from your King-god father?
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oh-no-its-bird · 5 months ago
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Fic where the unjust death of the Uchiha and the subsequent horrific abuse to their bodies via blatant and indiscriminant eye theft results in Konoha being haunted by the spirits of several very angry Uchiha.
"You know... They say that so long as an Uchiha's eyes do not rest in their body, their spirit will never find peace."
When the husk of a woman who used to be Mikoto smiles, there is blood in her teeth.
"What do you think, Elder Danzo?"
Ft.
- Sasuke being repeatedly lured into the woods by the ghosts of his family (and notably, his parents) both bc some want to protect him and some, not powerful enough to retain their sanity in death, wish for him to die so they might take their eyes as their own
- Nara Shikaku, among others in the Hokage's tower, being repeatedly faced with the unsettlingly eyeless ghost of Fugaku as he appears sporadically and attempting to act as if nothing is wrong— always dissapearing when someone questions how he is there (whether he truly seems to keep forgetting that he has died is unclear, but no methods to purge the offices seems able to keep him away for long)
- the spirit of Mikoto taking on a spokesperson role for the dead, as she seems to have been the one to retain the most of herself in death while plagued with the corruptive everything that comes with being a spirit tied to the earth through nefarious means (with Fugaku being a potential second— if he wasn't so busy w convincing himself he hadn't died at all)
- Danzo being haunted by the more mindlessly violent Uchiha ghosts, driven mad in the afterlife at seeing their eyes in his unworthy flesh
- A surprisingly sane Kagami who has Thoughts and Feelings ab Danzo taking his eye— and the mystery of how exactly he had died
- A suddenly the most qualified person to deal with ghosts Kakashi, who's unfortunatley doomed both attract and to be able to see the Uchiha ghosts with his sharingan, and has them breathing down the back of his neck with talk of watching after Sasuke and GETTING REVENGE !!!!!!!!!!!!! which he is legally obligated to do now as the elder ghosts deem his service as their conduit to be his duty, since they gave him a pass on the eye thing. There's a lot of "see I TOLD you it was a good idea to let him keep the eye!! Clearly Amaterasu has left him here for us to use in our darkest of hours"
Aka forcefully adopted by Uchiha ghosts Kakashi who's "adoption" reads a little more like "indentured servitude to the afterlife"
(And he can't help but wonder why he hasn't seen Obito's ghost, after so many years with his eye in his head...
- Itachi being absoloutley hounded by the guilt of what hes done and the spirits of those hes killed, whove left the haunting of Konoha specifically to haunt him (He is not having fun) (The ghost of Shisui is doing his best to ward away the more volatile ones)
And more !!! Potentially, idk. This would be a fun one if I wrote it but I will not. Someone totally should tho , just, not me.
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flymmsy · 1 year ago
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So if you're telling me Durge was the first person to be tadpoled, and Gortash tadpoled his parents...
Gortash not only showing up to Flymm Cobblers unannounced, despite avoiding his parents for decades in the same city, seeking revenge driven by his abandonment issues ...but give me absolutely unhinged Gortash who shows up ALSO driven by grief and loss and rage.
Give me a Gortash who is a new brand of scary. This is not the ruthless politician. This is not the arms dealer. This is not Bane's Chosen. This is something foreign even to himself that verges on madness.
He shows up at their door disheveled in a way he would never allow himself to be. He smiles wide, his only intention to harm, and laughs and laughs through the tears streaming down his face.
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awearywritersworld · 1 year ago
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i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend
sukuna x reader summary: you persuade sukuna to play go fish. the two of you have a small disagreement (he really can't stay mad at you). he confides in you about his past as a sorcerer. w/c: 3.4k tags/warnings: the teeniest bit of angst. mostly fluff. banter. cursing. aged up!yuuji. slight yuuji x reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: the first section could be read as a brief(ish) stand alone. and for context, the world's shortest frankenstein synopsis: victor frankenstein brings a creature to life using dead body parts and thrusts him into a world he doesn't understand, then promptly abandons him and wishes him dead. alone and regarded as repulsive by every human he comes across, the creature begs frankenstein to create a wife for him too. when frankenstein refuses, the creature is further driven to hatred and violence. series masterlist // masterlist
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"we should play a card game!" you exclaim as if you've just had the world's greatest idea.
"i'll pass."
sukuna sounds listless, like it's quite possibly the worst proposition he's ever heard.
"why's that? scared i'll beat you?"
"i'm opposed to mind numbing boredom, more like."
"you really need to expand your horizons," you suggest, making your way over to where you keep your playing cards. "all you do is read and brood."
"it's gotten me this far."
you don't respond, too busy rifling through your bookshelf. just as you spot your cards, a book catches your eye and you pull it from its place.
making your way back over to him, you drop it in his lap. "since you found jane eyre so insufferable, here's one you might actually like."
he surveys the cover, which reads: frankenstein or the modern prometheus
you take a seat across from him at the kotatsu table and shuffle the deck, while sukuna flips through the pages with new found intrigue.
"what's it about?"
"the dangers of playing god. should be right up your alley."
"your subtly never ceases to amaze."
"i'm just kidding." you laugh. "there's a lot more to it than that— revenge, loneliness, personal responsibility..."
he turns the book over. "it's written by a woman?"
you raise your eyebrows at him. "what, you don't think women have enough depth to write about those kinds of topics?"
"no, it was just an observation," he says off handedly. "you are evidence enough to the contrary."
he doesn't say it as a compliment, more so as a statement of fact. you hope your astonishment isn't written all over your face.
clearing your throat, you begin dealing while explaining the rules to him.
he takes up his cards and seems to understand the game after only a turn or two, but you're narrowing your eyes at him soon thereafter.
"go fish," he says for the fourth time in a row.
your gaze shifts down to his hands. there's just no way. "show me your cards."
"wouldn't that defeat the purpose of this stupid game?"
"not if you're cheating, now let me see."
"no."
you reach across the table, hoping to snatch them from his grasp, but he just holds them out of your reach.
swiftly rising to your feet, you launch yourself at him in a sad attempt to catch him off guard.
with only one arm extended, he easily fends off your attack. "do you actually think you have a chance here?"
you sink to your knees in defeat and sit with your legs folded beneath you. "not really, but i have to know if you'd stoop this low."
"that so? had you believed me to be above cheating?"
you gasp. "so you admit it?"
"i told you i didn't want to play," he deadpans.
"that doesn't mean you had to cheat! now we have to start over!"
he carelessly tosses the cards onto the table. "i don't think so."
"please?" you lean forward, jutting out your bottom lip.
he just stares at you with an air of disinterest.
sukuna can be so haughty sometimes, and frankly, it drives you a little crazy. you'd give anything to wipe that look from his face— to prove that he doesn't find this as miserable as he lets on.
leaning forward even further, your hands meet with the carpet to support your shifting weight. now he's watching intently as your face approaches his, your eyes flicking down to his lips.
unbeknownst to you, sukuna's breath catches in his throat once he sees your gaze shift, though his mind struggles to catch up. it happens so fast that he hardly registers the quick peck you place on his lips (though maybe it's not the speed of the occurrence, so much as his shock).
"please?" you repeat.
he looks off to the side and stays silent, though his demeanor is indicative of some heated internal debate.
sukuna can't let you win, not that easily. you'd be under the impression that you actually have power over him! and for what? some measly kiss?
no, he simply will not allow that. "i already told you—"
grabbing him by the chin, you cut off his words with another kiss, but this time it lasts a few beats longer. your lips don't move against his, they just linger there in a way that that makes him question whether all of the oxygen has vanished from the room.
when you pull away, you're looking at him expectantly with the same pout still playing on your lips.
"fine!" he barks, grumbling something afterwards that sounds a lot like "evil little minx."
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"human earthworm two is definitely still the best."
you're walking home with yuuji after a late night showing of the newest movie in the series.
"no way," you contend. "this one was even better."
he gawks at you. "in no world is the seventh film in an anthology the best! you're crazy—"
sukuna's mouth appears, always eager for a chance to undermine his vessel. "she's right, brat."
yuuji can't believe his ears. "what?! you haven't even seen it!"
"i don't know," you interject slyly. "i'm willing to look past that. it really seems like he knows what he's talking about."
"you mean the guy who's existence predates cinema?" yuuji asks, his eyebrows furrowing as a thought occurs to him. "what'd you do all day anyway? watch plays?"
"..among other things, yes." sukuna answers.
"if you look at it logically," you reason, "we probably wouldn't have movies without theater, so we should definitely consider him an expert in this case."
"oh please, baby. when the topic is ancient civilization or being a homicidal maniac, i'll be sure to solicit his opinion then."
"i resent that," sukuna declares, his conviction forcing a giggle from your lips.
"why?" you question. "was it the part where he called you old as shit, or the part where he called you a murderous lunatic?"
yuuji brings a hand to his mouth to stifle a snort, but you're freely laughing now.
sukuna scoffs indignantly and bites back a comment about how partial you seem to be toward said lunatic. "and to think i defended your opinion."
his response has you clutching at your sides and struggling to see through teary eyes.
but perhaps karma is real, because not a moment later, you step off the curb in a way that sends a sharp sensation through your leg.
you gasp in pain and brace yourself for the impact of falling to the concrete, but it never comes. instead, you're left with fingers clamped tightly around your wrist and a strange sense of deja vu.
you turn your head just before the dark lines fade from yuuji's arm completely.
"tch, watch where you're going idiot," sukuna scolds, his mouth disappearing as soon as he finishes speaking.
"are you okay?" yuuji asks worriedly.
"absolutely," you claim, but when you try to put weight on your left foot, you let out a hiss.
yuuji's hands find your waist, hoping to keep you steady. before you know it, he's crouching in front of you with his back turned and beckoning you to wrap your arms around his neck.
once you do, he hooks his arms under your thighs and easily stands up. "this okay? you comfy?"
"yeah. i can't believe i just did that." you hide your face in the space where his neck meets his shoulder. "thanks, yu."
when you get home, yuuji sets you up on the couch with icepacks, heating pads, three different drinks, two different books, and the tv remote.
he still asks if you have everything you need several times, then kisses you sweetly before heading to bed.
around thirty minutes later, sukuna's leaning in the doorway with his arms crossed.
"hey," you greet. your eyes never leave the tv, as you're privy to the slight tension between the both of you.
he skips the evening's pleasantries. "i could heal it, you know."
you finally turn to face him. "really?"
"of course." he rolls his eyes. "some of us can actually use reverse cursed technique."
"and you've just let me hobble around the past hour anyway?"
he shrugs. "you pissed me off."
you blink at him a few times, rubbing at your temples. "well what about now?"
"i don't know," he begins, making his way over to you. he towers over where you're seated on the couch, so you have to crane your neck to look up at him. "just doesn't really seem like something a homicidal maniac would do, but maybe if he were to receive an apology..."
you cover your face with your hands and groan. "i didn't say that. this is really something you should take up with yuuji—"
"i don't make a habit of conversing with the brat, so if that's the way you're going to be..." he turns on his heel and starts for the bedroom, but you grab onto his sleeve just before he's out of reach.
"wait. please don't go."
just like that, your words have his resolve crumbling and any of his lingering irritation ebbs away. he urges himself to stay strong though, especially after the go fish debacle.
when he doesn't speak, you let out a breath.
"i'm sorry, sukuna." he can tell right away that you're being entirely sincere. "i would never purposefully hurt your feelings. i only meant to tease you, but i can see how i was being mean."
are those... are those tears swimming in your eyes? are you in that much pain, or did he just make you feel that badly? in any case, he endeavors to remedy it immediately.
moving around the couch until he's in front of you, sukuna kneels between your legs. he grabs your left foot gingerly, situating it on his thigh before hovering his hand over top of it.
he sighs. "i don't care if you tease me and you weren't being.. mean." the words sounds so juvenile to him.
you weren't necessarily wrong either, goes unsaid.
well, he'd like to consider himself a little more sophisticated than 'maniac' would imply, but that's beside the point.
"then why are you upset with me?"
his jaw flexes as he tries to find the right words. "i would prefer you do that when it's just.. us."
"oh." realization dawns on you, as does another heap of guilt. you know he despises being trapped in yuuji's body, and you completely failed to consider how ganging up on him might make him feel. "i'm... fuck. i'm really sorry, sukuna—"
"stop apologizing," he urges you in a low voice. it's partly because what he just said makes him feel pathetic, but more than that, it's because the look of self reproach you're wearing is akin to a thousand needles in his chest. "it's fine."
he can't believe you're sitting there with so much remorse over a man like him because you... what? wounded his pride?
he probably deserves it anyway.
why should you give a shit when he's done things a thousand times worse, a million different times?
oh, right. because you care about him.
you can't see the cursed energy at play, but you can tell it's working as your pain begins to dissipate.
once he's finished, he carefully moves your foot to the floor and looks up at you. it's not unlike the way a person might gaze at one of the wonders of the world, like they're lucky to be there in the first place.
with the intensity of his gaze, it feels like he can see right into your head— read your every thought and pick apart every emotion. has anyone ever looked at you like that before? you're having a hard time remembering. you're having a hard time thinking of anything at all, really.
so it goes without saying that you don't think about it when you lean forward and kiss him.
it's not at all like when you were trying to convince him to play cards. no, this isn't light hearted or frivolous.
and it's not like the other two kisses you've shared either. it isn't heated or desperate, nor does it leave you gasping for air.
it's tender. it's so fucking tender, in fact, that sukuna wonders whether he's going to crumble beneath your touch.
he grips the area just above your knees, as if needing something to tether himself to before he withers away completely.
his lips move with yours in a way that's slow and careful.
your hands are on either side of his face, ghosting over his skin as a testament to your hesitance— like you're not certain if this is something he would want.
he wonders how in the world you could ever second guess yourself.
when you pull back, you examine his face for a moment before a small, shy smile tugs at your lips and you murmur, "thanks 'kuna."
he just peers at you wordlessly and it makes you nervous, so you attempt to fill the silence. "it feels so much better. a-and i'm sorry again abo—"
his hand finds the back of your neck, pulling your lips against his for a moment longer. "don't mention it, angel."
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ever since you gave sukuna your copy of frankenstein, he's spent a decent portion of your nights together reading, his brows drawn together in concentration.
upon finishing, he stares at the page after taking in the final line: "he was soon borne away by the waves and lost in darkness and distance."
he's deathly quiet and wearing some unreadable expression. his eyes seem far off.
you leave him be for a little while, as it's clear he's lost in thought, but eventually you grow a bit concerned. it's been nearly half an hour since he last moved.
"sukuna?"
he turns to you. "why did you think i would enjoy this particular book?"
you consider his question carefully, his mood evoking your own seriousness. "it's... elegant and tragic. i suppose i appreciate the moral grayness of it. why do you ask?"
"no reason."
"did you enjoy it?"
"yes."
"why?"
he ignores your question. "frankenstein— do you like his character?"
you can't help but feel like you're answering some sort of riddle. "i think he's foolish and arrogant, but i guess i pity him to some degree."
"and the creature?"
"i'm much more sympathetic toward him. he's very... complex and certainly less culpable for the events of the novel than his creator."
you're surprised when he laughs. "of course you would think that way."
and with that, he's flipping through the pages of the novel. you move to sit beside him and once he finds what he's looking for near the middle, he begins reading:
"remember, thou hast made me more powerful than thyself; my height is superior to thine, my joints more supple. but i will not be tempted to set myself in opposition to thee. i am thy creature, and i will be even mild and docile to my natural lord and king if thou wilt also perform thy part, the which thou owest me. oh, frankenstein, be not equitable to every other and trample upon me alone, to whom thy justice, and even thy clemency and affection, is most due. remember that i am thy creature; i ought to be thy adam, but i am rather the fallen angel, whom thou drivest from joy for no misdeed. everywhere i see bliss, from which i alone am irrevocably excluded. i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend. make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous.”
his voice is strangely even, almost bordering on robotic. you're struck with the notion that he's attempting (with rare difficulty) to mask his emotions.
you regard him quizzically and wait for him to speak. the last thing you expect to hear tumbles from his lips.
"you know they called me the disgraced one?" you nod. "do you know why?"
"i know the story that sorcerers have passed down."
he hums. leaning back into the couch, he looks fixedly at the ceiling before continuing. "i was just a boy when i was orphaned and no one knew anything about my heritage, including me. jujutsu society took me in and raised me as a sorcerer."
"and you didn't care for it?"
"oh, quite the opposite. i reveled in it. my strength was unprecedented, that much was clear from the start. i surpassed my teachers with ease, and eventually, i took to training alone— reading primitive texts and honing skills that they couldn't teach me."
your hand finds his thigh, hoping to offer him some consolation before beckoning him to continue. "then what happened?"
"the men who had been my teachers, who had been the only.. family i'd ever known.. they scorned me. deemed me reckless and dangerous to jujutsu society. plotted my demise."
your voice is small when you ask, "were they right?"
he wants to hate the question— wants to hate you for asking it— but he knows that it's warranted.
"no. i admit i was forward thinking and a bit.. unorthodox, but i wasn't..."
"what they thought you were?" you offer gently.
he nods. "not until they made me that way— not until they abandoned me and backed me into a corner like some animal."
you struggle to find the right thing to say, if any such thing even exists. you're amazed that he's confiding in you, and while it makes your heart swell, you really don't want to fuck it up.
he looks back down at the book, his eyes scanning the paragraph before repeating, "i was benevolent and good; misery made me a fiend."
he says it as if he's coming to terms with the circumstances of his life for the very first time.
"the creature was remorseful at the end of the novel," you recall somewhat bravely. "are you?"
sukuna thinks for a great deal of time before replying. you wait patiently for him.
"no," he answers decidedly.
looking over at you for the first time since he began his story, he's relieved to find your face is free of rebuke. instead, there's a warm willingness to understand him. a sadness because of the way he was alienated.
he's curious whether anyone would be able to read the sentiment on your face, or if he just knows you better than most.
is that a privilege he's worthy of? he doubts it.
"you didn't deserve what they did to you," you whisper, reaching up to rake your fingers through his hair, nails grazing his scalp before your palm rests against his temple.
his head leans almost imperceptibly into your hand, and any regret or unease he may have felt at relaying his past to you disappears. watching a single tear slip down your cheek, he wipes it away with the pad of his thumb.
he means to say "don't cry. not for me," but the words die in his throat.
for once, your tears are for him rather than because of him and it's utterly riveting. the fact that someone like you would cry on his behalf seems to contradict every horrible thing he's ever been told about himself.
he could sit here and bask in the feeling forever— he's always known himself to be selfish after all. and you know it too, don't you?
his eyes flicker between each of yours, studying your face. "do you want to know why i don't regret the things i've done?"
you tilt your head to the side. "why?"
"because even if it's made me into a monster..."
for a moment, he contemplates not saying anything more. he considers forcing himself to pull away from your touch, even if it's the only comfort he's been given his entire life. he might still be able to salvage whatever tiny, laughable pieces remain of his pride—
"all of my actions have led me to you."
your eyes soften before you're wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your body to his. he returns the gesture after a few seconds pass.
you know he's awful. you know he's cruel. you know that what he's been through doesn't excuse his actions. but still— you want so desperately to take away his pain. to make up for all the things in his past. to wipe the blood from his hands.
as you embrace such an incredibly complicated man (one who is infamous for unrivaled wickedness, yet has his face buried in your hair), you ponder the creature's plea: "make me happy, and i shall again be virtuous."
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a/n 2: if you're still w me, thanks for reading!! i'm not sure how i feel abt this part, so feedback is both welcome and appreciated!! also, how do we like sukuna using angel?? in my head he picked it up from the "my good angel" line in jane eyre, so i hope it doesn't seem too unnatural. alsoooo, highly recommend frankenstein. it's one of my favorite books!! mary shelley popped off and literally created the entire genre of science fiction at 21! anyway, thanks for all the love yall, it means the world<3
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @risuola @lirasmoon @disaster-rose @archivist-ghoul606 @creative1writings @sloppyzengarden @omismicrowave @cecesharktales @tanyeonn @hiqhkey @ruixrei @yellowsubiesdance @thefallofruins @anything-and-everything-here69 @emzalot @thepup356 @browneyedgirl22 @lantsovheiress // users in bold could not be tagged. if i forgot to tag anyone, my apologies!! just give me a heads up.
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the-winter-spider · 6 months ago
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What I Have | B. Barnes
Word Count: 2.5k
Warning: Probably the fluffiest piece ive written lol
A/N: I was listening to What I Have by Kelsea Ballerini and well here we are lol
—-
The year was 2024, over one hundred years since you were born—105, to be exact. Your life hadn’t turned out at all like you had dreamed or hoped it would.
You were supposed to marry the boy next door once the war was done. You’d picked out your wedding dress while window shopping with your best friend, even before he proposed. You made a scrapbook, meticulously curating hairstyles and makeup looks, debating over the choices as if they were the most pressing decisions in the world.
You sketched out your dream house, selecting the colors, the flowers for the front garden, and the vegetables you would surely grow in the back. You even chose the font for your new last name on the mailbox.
You had each of your children’s names picked out—three, to be exact. Two boys and one girl, you had hoped. Everything was a dream, but it seemed so close, so possible, as if it should have been a reality. You should be dead by now, having lived a full life, with your children who should have been walking the earth with their children, your grandchildren.
But everything went wrong. Literally, everything possible went wrong.
Bucky fell off a train and died. He actually fell off a train, and they declared him dead. In reality, he had lost his arm, survived the fall because Hydra had already experimented on him. They brainwashed him, like something out of a twisted fairy tale, turning him into a deadly assassin. Your beautiful, blue-eyed Bucky, your sweet Bucky, became a killer. A Bucky you would never see again, because even though he was still here, and you were so thankful for that, he would never be your Bucky again.
And then there was Steve. Of course, Steve found him, because of course! And let’s not forget that your best friend, Steve, who was once smaller than you, was injected with a serum that not only tripled his size but turned him into a superhero because, yes, apparently those needed to exist. Of course, he went off to war, driven by a need for revenge for his best friend, your fiancé Bucky. And of course, he had to be noble, going down for the cause, leading everyone to believe he was dead. But of course, he wasn’t. They found him, frozen but alive, because he was Captain America, and that’s just what happens.
And then there was you, consumed by grief, first losing the love of your life and then your best friend. You begged, on your knees, begged Howard Stark to use you as his test subject for cryogenic testing. You couldn’t bear to be here without your boys. He hesitated because he loved Steve, and he knew Steve wouldn’t want this for you. But when you threatened that if he didn’t, you would take your own life, he relented. So, of course, it worked because it was Howard, and he was a Stark. But decades passed, and the year he was supposed to wake you up, The Winter Soldier murdered him. So, as usual, you stayed frozen, but alive, until Howard’s son, Tony, found you in his father’s hidden lab.
You woke up to a world that was not your own, a century too late for the life you were supposed to live. The world had moved on, but you hadn’t. Your friends were legends now, mythologized beyond recognition. And you, well, you were the ghost of what could have been.
The years that followed were a blur of new faces, new battles, and new griefs. You tried to adapt, to find a place in this future that had no room for you. But every corner of this brave new world reminded you of the past, of the life that slipped through your fingers.
And then one day, while sifting through old boxes in Tony’s lab, you found something. It was an old, faded book, as soon as you saw the brown cover you heart dropped you knew what it was, it waa your scrapbook. The cover had an old faded photo of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken on a sunny day before the world went mad. You barely recognized the girl in the photo, with her bright smile and unbroken heart. But there she was, a relic of a time that now felt like a dream.
You realised then that maybe you didn’t belong in this world. Maybe you never did. But as long as you were here, you could try—try to make sense of the pieces left behind, to find some small measure of peace in the chaos.
And that’s exactly what you did. Even though you didn’t have the life you had once dreamed of, you still had them. And in what world does all that trauma happen, and you still end up alive with your boys?
You picked up the dusty book, holding it close to your heart, as you navigated through the compound, following the sound of laughter coming from the living room. You paused just outside the doorway, soaking in the warmth of his laugh—a sound you feared you might never hear again after Bucky began recovering from his trauma. But here it was, filling the room, and even though it wasn’t the same Bucky you knew decades ago, his laugh was unchanged, and it made your heart swell.
Rounding the corner, you saw Steve clutching his chest in joy, playfully shoving Sam, who was grinning widely.
Bucky’s eyes immediately found yours; he could always find you in any room. “Hi, doll,” he said, getting up to kiss your cheek and taking your hand to lead you to the couch.
“Hi, Buck. Hi, Stevie, Sammy,” you greeted them, settling in beside Bucky.
Sam rolled his eyes at the nickname. “You’re lucky I like you.”
Bucky glanced down at the book in your arms. “What’s that?”
Steve’s smile faded into something more serious as he noticed the book, instantly recognizing it. “Is that what I think it is?”
You nodded, feeling tears well up in your eyes. “Stark… he kept it. I haven’t opened it yet. I thought… I thought we could do it together.”
“What is it?” Sam asked, his curiosity piqued.
“It’s my life,” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “There are a few pages of what I thought it would turn out to be… but after everything happened…” You paused, taking a steadying breath. The memories of losing Bucky and Steve were still fresh, no matter how much time had passed. “I never planned or dreamed of anything else. It just felt silly without you boys. So, I just filled it with photographs.”
“Photographs of who?” Sam asked, leaning forward.
“Everyone,” you replied softly, glancing between Bucky and Steve. “Peggy and Mrs. Rogers,” you said, meeting Steve’s gaze. You saw the emotion in his eyes at the mention of his mother. “Becca and Winnie, Mr. Barnes,” you continued, feeling Bucky tense slightly at the mention of his mother and sister, their faces now distant memories. “I even have Howard and the Commandos.” You smiled a little. “But mostly, it’s us—all of us.”
Bucky reached out, gently taking the book from your hands. His fingers brushed the worn cover, the room fell silent as the weight of the past settled around you all.
“Let’s open it together,” Steve suggested, his voice thick with emotion. He moved closer, his presence a steady anchor as you all gathered around the book. Sam stayed distant, letting the three of you have your moment but still staying there.
Bucky opened the cover, and the first page revealed a photograph of you, Bucky, and Steve, taken in a simpler time. The three of you looked so young, so hopeful. You felt Bucky’s hand tighten around yours as he stared at the image, memories rushing back. It was a photo from your 16th birthday, the day he had gifted you the book.
“I gave this to you,” Bucky said quietly, the realization settling over him.
You nodded. “For my birthday. You wrote…” You trailed off, pointing to the top left corner of the front of the book.
He read the words aloud, his voice filled with emotion. “Happy 16th birthday to my best girl. I hope you fill these pages with your hopes and dreams. I can only hope that somewhere in amongst them, I’ll be a part of it. With all the love, Bucky.”
Sam smiled, leaning back in his seat. “Who knew you were such a romantic, Buck?”
You watched as Bucky’s cheeks flushed a light shade of red at the comment, and you gave his knee a gentle squeeze, feeling the warmth of the old affection between you.
“For y/n, he was crazy,” Steve chimed in, grinning. “You should have seen him—head over heels is an understatement. Try obses—”
Before Steve could finish, Bucky reached behind you and gave him a playful shove. “Can it, Rogers,” he muttered, trying to hide his embarrassment.
Steve just laughed, catching himself before he toppled over. “You know it’s true.”
You chuckled, resting your head against Bucky’s shoulder. “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”
Bucky’s hand found yours again, his thumb tracing circles on your skin. “Neither would I.”
As you all shared a quiet moment, the weight of the years seemed to lift, replaced by the warmth of old memories and the comfort of the present. Bucky turned the page, revealing more photographs—snapshots of moments that had once seemed so ordinary but now felt like treasures.
The pages turned slowly, revealing a life that could have been—a wedding dress sketched out, a house with a picket fence, names of children that never came to be. And then, the photographs—snapshots of moments frozen in time. Peggy’s bright smile, Mrs. Rogers’ kind eyes, the mischievous grins of Becca and Winnie, Howard’s confident stance, the Commandos’ camaraderie. But the most frequent faces were your own, Bucky’s, and Steve’s, from a time when the world was both simpler and infinitely more complex.
Each image told a story. There was one of you and Steve dancing at a neighbourhood block party, both of you laughing so hard you could barely stand. Another showed Bucky in his military uniform, giving you a wink as he prepared to head off to basic training. Then there were pictures of Steve and Bucky goofing around, each trying to outdo the other in some silly stunt, and you caught in the middle, rolling your eyes but smiling all the same.
There were pictures of Bucky and you around the campfire on the night before everything changed—before he fell off the train. Bucky paused on that photo, his eyes lingering on it. “That was the night before…” he said softly.
You nodded, squeezing his hand, understanding the weight of those words.
“Night before what?” Sam asked, his voice gentle.
“Before I fell,” Bucky replied, those three words carrying a lifetime of pain and loss. The room grew still, the significance of that moment hanging heavy in the air. Sam didn’t say anything more, sensing the depth of emotion in Bucky’s words.
Bucky’s gaze remained fixed on the photo, his voice quiet as he continued. “It was the last time I felt so much joy… I feel it now, but it was different then.”
Steve nodded in agreement, his expression solemn. “I get it, Buck.”
“Me too,” you added, your voice trembling slightly. “I keep thinking about what was supposed to be, what should have been.” You paused, wiping a tear from your eye. “I don’t understand why it all happened the way it did—why I didn’t get the life I thought I was going to.”
“Sweetheart,” Bucky whispered, his hand gently reaching out to wipe away your tears, his touch as tender as it had always been.
The room fell into a reverent silence, each of you lost in your own thoughts, the weight of your shared history settling over you like a heavy blanket. Finally, Sam spoke, his voice soft and full of understanding. “You’ve lived a hell of a life.”
You nodded, taking a deep breath as you wiped away a stray tear. “It wasn’t what I planned,” you admitted, your voice thick with emotion. “But I wouldn’t trade it. Not if it meant losing this—losing you… both of you.”
Bucky’s hand tightened around yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “We didn’t get the life we dreamed of, but we got each other. And that’s enough.”
Steve leaned back, his eyes bright with unshed tears. “We’ve been through so much, but we’re still here. Together.”
Sam smiled, the warmth in his expression offering a quiet reassurance. “That’s what matters in the end. Not what you lost, but what you’ve kept.”
“Till the end of the line,” Steve spoke, the words heavy with emotion and depth.
“Till the end of the line,” Bucky echoed, pulling you closer to his side.
You glanced around the room at the faces of the people who had become your family—the ones who had stood by you through the darkest of times.
As the pages of the scrapbook turned, the photographs shifted from black-and-white to colour, reflecting the passage of time. The images grew fewer as the years became harder, but each one was more precious because of it.
Finally, you reached the last page, where an empty space awaited a new photograph. You looked up at Bucky and Steve, both of them gazing at the book with a mix of nostalgia and gratitude.
“You should take a new photo,” Sam suggested, his voice soft but certain. “One to mark this moment.”
Bucky nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a warmth that melted away the years. “Yeah, we should.”
Steve grinned. “I’ll get the camera.”
As Steve stood to retrieve a camera, you leaned into Bucky, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your hand. This was the life you had, and it was more than enough. The empty space in the book was no longer a reminder of what was lost, but a promise of what was yet to come—a new chapter, filled with love, laughter, and the people who mattered most.
Sam took the camera from Steve, ready to take the picture. But just as he was about to snap the shot, you paused. “Wait!”
“What? You don’t have food in your teeth, but your hair…” Sam teased with a smirk.
“Well, I was going to say I want you in the picture too, but…” You trailed off
“No, no! I’m sorry, you’re beautiful… perfect—”
“Sam, watch it, that’s my girl,” Bucky warned, a protective edge to his voice.
Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling. “The whole world knows that, Buck.” He placed the camera on the tripod and took a seat beside Steve. “You sure you want me in this?”
“Of course, Sammy! You’re one of us now,” you insisted, smiling warmly at him.
Sam’s expression softened, and he nodded, touched by your words. As the camera clicked, capturing the four of you together, you knew that this was the memory that would fill that final page—the proof that even after everything, you still had your boys, old and new, and they still had you.
The book might never hold the life you once dreamed of, but it would hold the life you had lived—the one you had fought for, the one you had loved.
And that was more than enough.
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reignpage · 23 days ago
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ok first of all hi reign !! how do u think the jjk men (in the eden u au) are about nudes? like do they send them, or would they only do so if reader asked, and if it’s not greedy enough for me to ask 😖 what kind of stuff would they send?
Gojo:
Bro has an album locked and loaded specifically for goth!reader. He saved his faves from the past and also made new ones where he wears goth inspired costumes with his abs on show and dick waving
Most of them are goofy. Like he does the helicopter thing, he does really cheesy overly pornographic moans and stupid lines because he can’t take himself seriously and he does it more just to be berated by goth!reader
When he is serious however, it’s only when he’s been driven to madness. Usually when reader is punishing him for being annoying by putting him in a sex ban or something
He’ll try to hold out as his own way of rebelling and standing up for himself but eventually, he can’t take it anymore, his knees are literally wobbling
Gojo sends a video and it’s the whiniest, most depraved, desperate, pathetic thing ever and he’s humping the bed whilst smelling a piece of clothing from reader and he’s all like, baby please -ngh- come on I’ve been good! I already said I’m -ha- sorry! Can’t you just sit on my -oh fuck- face? Just for a little bit? I won’t touch myself, I promise! Okay I lied fine, I will touch myself but you don’t even h-have to sit on my face, just show me your pretty face, and your pussy, but mostly your face!
Geto:
Very seductive nudes. He sends videos of him jerking off in low lighting, either at his desk in the office or in the garage, sat on his bike
Very aesthetic, doesn’t really go out of his way to make it so high quality and artistic, it just happens to be
Doesn’t ever send them out of nowhere. Really more for when the mood switches on text or something. He reads the room essentially
He does expect something back in return tho
Choso:
He starts sending after art!reader starts. Art!reader would drop hers randomly, just to tease him and drive him crazy, pushing him further and further until he tries to take revenge by sending a video of him aggressively jerking off, whimpering from the shame and embarrassment
Finds it generally uncomfortable to take nudes and send. And when art!reader encourages him, he’s not really sure how to do them, so they come off in weird angles, lighting, and poses
Has to ask his friends and cousin and they all give him terrible advice about how you just take a pic of your peen and let the ladies drool over it
He’s thinking, that doesn’t sound right
Will just ask art!reader how she likes it
Toji:
Boy is a nude EXPERT a connoisseur if you please
Man also has them locked and loaded. He’s taken them everywhere Jesus Christ. There isn’t a place on campus (and in adulthood) where he hasn’t taken them. If there’s enough privacy, he’s rubbing himself and fishing out his dick to snap a pic
But when he really wants to tease, really wants to get her wet and on edge, then he does pics that aren’t nudes, not really because they leave so much to the imagination
It’ll be shirtless pics of him in the gym, sweaty and shiny, and in his shorts is an unmissable hardness. He also sends videos but it’s in complete darkness, and all you can hear is his low breaths, groaning and a movement somewhere, the sound of rubbing, with just a little bit of wetness…and then reader’s name groaned just barely audible
Oh yeah, he’s an expert alright
Nanami:
Only starts sending after reader. He was very concerned with privacy and all of that. He even warned her not to send anything, especially not with her face in the picture/video. Eventually though, with just how many she sends, and often, he becomes frustrated and sends her one to silence her
It’s clumsy, blurry, terrible angle and lighting
But that’s what makes it so hot
He never sends out of nowhere, only when reader asks him to. And she always has specific requests like oh can you moan my name Ken? can you do it with my panties? ooh tell me some physics fact? narrate a chapter of that book you’re reading as you jerk off please please please
And he does as she asks
Every.
Time.
Sukuna:
Doesn’t send them. Neither does reader tbh. They both much prefer the real thing over nudes. Generally speaking, neither of them have much of a sexual appetite outside of each other, so it just doesn’t really happen
But if Sukuna did send nudes, they’d be very aggressive videos where he’s fucking his hand, imagining it’s her face, and he’s telling her, see what you did to me? you just gotta be fucking difficult, don’t you? this is what’s gonna happen to that pretty face when I get my hands on you
It’d be so scary highkey but reader would only smile to herself and think, what a piece of shit waste of space monster of a person, ugh he’s adorable
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serpentface · 9 months ago
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An old wildwoman, a fae-like mountain spirit closely associated with scimitar deer, as described in folklore in the Greathill region.
Wildfolk are depicted as petite humans, always naked, usually unnaturally pale, with older adult adult men and women both having long, shaggy beards and eyes that reflect light. Wildfolk youths are described as preternaturally beautiful in stark contrast, only gaining their unsettling appearances and unkempt beards as they age.
These spirits are said to make their homes in hills, forests, and mountaintops beyond the immediate borders of human habitation, where they live in dispersed parallel societies as herders and sorcerers. They are often depicted as mischievous, and take joy in meddling in human affairs and harassing travelers. Most of their pranks are not particularly malicious (though their victims may not see it that way) but they are said to be capable of inflicting curses and transforming victims into animals.
They are very fond of alcohol, and offerings of murre (a fermented milk beverage, usually made with berries for extra alcohol content) wine or ale may grant their boon. It is typical in villages to leave offerings out to any local wildfolk on the night of the new moon to maintain good relations and avoid their harassment.
Scimitar deer are said to be their livestock, herded and milked like cattle by the wildfolk but never eaten (most traditions hold that they eat no meat at all). Wildfolk themselves have the ability to shapeshift into deer (in some traditions, recognizable by retaining human eyes in deer form), and spend most of their lives in this form, only taking human form at night.
Their society is believed to be led by witches, powerful sorcerers who can influence weather patterns and shapeshift into any animal, most commonly taking the forms of eagles. Witches in particular are seen as highly dangerous (though not intrinsically malevolent), and areas believed to be inhabited by them are generally avoided. Exceptions are made in times of trouble, when offerings of grain and fine wine are left to plead for their boon. Exceptions are also often made by rowdy teenagers, trespassing on a witch's territory as a dare.
One tale describes a king of ancient Ephennos who, while on campaign, abducted the young and beautiful daughter of the famed wildwoman witch Bernike to take as his wife. In revenge, Bernike transformed him into a gazelle, and he was (unknowingly) hunted, killed, and eaten by his own men. The butchered carcass reverted to that of a human by the next morning, and the men committed suicide or were driven mad in the face of their cannibalistic transgression. Their restless spirits are said to still haunt Bernike's pass, while the ghostly gazelle-king is her personal mount.
Livestock raiding is of cultural significance in the region, and raid tales are another key part of the wildfolk mythos. These tend to involve a wily hero who steals a wildman’s deer herd, and manages to keep his prize and avoid being cursed by outsmarting the spirit's trickery. Once his, the deer provide milk that extends the lifespan (the folk hero Kulyos is said to have lived for 200 years), and plow fields with tremendous speeds without tiring. The native-bred khait stock of this region is said to have been hybridized with Kulyos' stolen deer, which affords these khait their hardy, surefooted nature and pointed horns.
The other common theme in folklore is a wildfolk youth as a bride or groom. Mortals with supernatural grooms are luckier, as the child is usually deemed fully human but has the blessing and protection of their supernatural sire (who inevitably transforms into a deer and leaves). Tales of marriage to a wildwoman usually end in the bride becoming restless and lonely, and transforming both herself and her child into a deer and fleeing back into the hills. Both bride and groom tales sometimes end with the wildman spouse returning to their human lover on certain nights, or meeting again at certain times of the year (usually new moons or midsummer).
These variants often involve elements where the returning supernatural spouse has developed their beard and rugged appearance, being almost unrecognizable from the beautiful youth that was wed. (Well kept beards are considered handsome, but the beards of wildmen are seen as humorously long and unkempt). Comedic versions of the tale involve the returning spouse being insulted by their human lover’s lack of enthusiasm for their appearance and laying a (usually humorous) curse on them. More romanticized tales involve the human spouse so overcome by their love that they are unbothered, and they often live a long life with the boon of their supernatural lover and child.
An example of such a tale under the cut:
A highly romanticized, 'uh' and projection-laden version of the wildwoman bride folktale as orally recited by Brakul, probably at least a little drunk:
---
“So, there is this young herder. He’s a man grown but still unmarried, so he’s still tending his mother’s cattle. He has them out to pasture high into the mountains, right? He's from a lesser clan, so most of their land is poor grazing. His cattle are so skinny and sickly that no one's going to the effort of stealing them. So it's not worth sending any warriors along, and he will be up there all alone for many weeks.
Every day he is very bored. Very lonely. And every night he starts to see a herd of deer moving among his cattle. I don’t know if you’ve ever seen them, they are mostly like gazelles? But bigger, and the males have one horn.
Anyway, the deer are up in his pastures, and there is not a lot of grass to go around, but he knows not to chase them off. Deer all belong to the wildfolk, yeah? You let them do their thing if you know what’s good for you.
Obviously there is a wildman or woman living on this mountain, so each night he leaves some of his murre- um. Is that a word here? It’s fermented milk and fruit, like ale. Wildfolk love it. He leaves some murre out in a cup just outside his camp each evening, and the cup is empty each morning.
So, yeah, the deer come every night, but they all keep their distance. They're very scared of humans, right? They keep well away. Except for this one doe. This doe walks right up to him. Every night she walks up to him, just out of arms reach. No fear. And this is a beautiful, fierce animal, so he becomes quite fond of her.
Anyway, there is many days of this. The herder moves the cattle around, and at night the deer come to graze, the doe comes to meet him, so on and so forth. His cattle are growing huge and fat and have plenty of milk, even with the terrible forage. He suspects the wildfolk of these hills have given him their blessing. So, things are looking pretty good for him, but he’s still quite lonely.
One night, it’s the new moon. Very dark. And it’s very cold up there. He is sitting at his fire, all wrapped in his blankets, you know, shivering and miserable. And he sees the deer herd making their way towards him, but something is different. There is a girl with them. And she’s completely naked. So, uh, you know, why is she naked? Isn’t she cold? No shoes, even. It’s crazy.
And this girl would’ve been walking for days to get up there, but there is no dirt, no cuts on her feet. And she's strange looking too, she's very short and has long, dark hair, and big, dark eyes. But the thing is, uh, she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen. She's so beautiful, she frightens him.
She comes up by the fire and sits right down next to him. I think he’s probably going, uh, are you okay? And he’s trying to give her his blanket or something, but she laughs at him. She’s just fine. Better off than he is.
So they talk, and he shares his food with her. And this guy is not stupid, so yeah, he figures out that this is a wildwoman, this is probably the same doe that had been visiting him. So he’s careful and polite with the strange, lovely girl. But he is not too careful to fall in love with her. Which, uh. He does. Immediately, I guess.
She visits every night from then on, and I think they probably have a lot to talk about. A lot to learn from each other, right? She really likes him too. She is a powerful wild spirit, but she’s still young, and has feelings just like any other youth. She’s fallen in love with this human too. Wildfolk are probably just as lonely as herders, I think. Just up there on the- the hills. Not a lot going on up there.
So. She’s there each night for the rest of the season, and they are, uh, having sex a lot too. You have to pass the time up there somehow. You know how it goes.
And finally, the day comes that he has to take the cattle back down the mountain. Soon it will be too cold, and the grazing too poor to stay. He doesn’t want to leave her behind, and she doesn’t want him to go. And she could just turn him into a stag and keep him there forever, but she would never do that to him. She truly cares for him. So she agrees to leave her mountain home and go back with him.
So he dresses her in his cloak, because she’s been naked this whole time and that, uh, doesn’t fly. And they descend to the village. He went up alone with a skinny, sickly herd, and came back with fat cattle and the most beautiful girl anyone has ever seen.
He lies and says he found her as a stranded traveler. Some people probably have their suspicions, but if they have suspicions of her nature, they, y’know, also know better than to cross her.
The herder and the wildwoman marry, and she realizes that she is pregnant soon after. It’s probably scary for both of them, but, uh. They’re both very happy. For a while.
But he’s a young man, so. When he is not out herding he has to protect the village livestock, and go out on raids. So he is often away from home. And she often finds herself alone. She does not fit in well with the villagers, right? Many of the men covet her, many of the women are jealous of her, and all are a little afraid of her. She’s very lonely, and misses her deer and her hills. At night, she sneaks out naked and roams the foothills, calling out to her herd, but they are too far away.
Months pass this way, and she is close to term. The herder desperately wants to be with her for the birth, but he is called away. They, uh-. The stories don’t usually elaborate why. He’s probably oathbound to protect his ruling clan’s khait, that sort of thing comes up a lot during the foaling season. You get- people always try to steal the foals as a, uh, political statement. It’s a whole thing.
Anyway, all he can think of is his wife and child, and he hurries back as soon as he can. His mother is waiting for him upon his return, and tells him that his wife gave birth in the night. Both new mother and child are safe and healthy, and the herder is now the father of a little boy.
He's sad to have missed it, but mostly just relieved that everything went alright. So he rushes to his home, all excited. But the house is empty. His wife and newborn are nowhere to be found, and the wildwoman’s clothes are shed in a pile beside the open door. There are prints leading away from the home, and he follows them as fast as he can. He’s running with all his might, you know, calling out for her, 'hey, come back'. He gets to the foothills, and looks up to the top of a great ridge. The doe is standing there next to a newborn fawn, all shaky on its little legs. He begs her not to leave, but she turns and runs away. By the time he gets up the ridge, both mother and child are long gone.
The herder has nothing else to do but go back to his old life. He is heartbroken. He did not realize she was so unhappy in the village, he was such a fool. He should have known better.
And he also should have long since been wed at his age, and is now, uh, kind of maybe divorced? His mother hates to see him sad, so she finds him many fine matches, all lovely young women. But he refuses them all. Probably causes all sorts of drama, it’s- uh. That sort of thing gets ugly.
So, after a while of this, the herder's friends and family pity him. They’re annoyed with him, really. They’ve figured it all out by now, and they just think he’s insane. He should feel lucky that he came away from a tryst with a wildwoman unharmed, right? It was never going to work. He should just move on. But he can’t. He doesn't want anyone else. He wants her, and he wants his son. He is so depressed that he falls ill, and can’t go up to pasture that summer. Everyone is just all, 'gods above this guy is so fucking useless', haha.
Um. It’s funny.
The next year, the herder is still depressed, but he's put himself together, a little. So he is back up in the mountain pasture again that summer. Days go by, but there is no sign of the deer herd, much less of his wife or child. He has never felt more alone.
Then, on the night of the new moon, he is awoken by the sound of hooves on rock. He cannot believe his eyes. The doe is back, and with her a strong young buck, just beginning to grow his first antler. The herder is overjoyed, he runs up to greet them. Both doe and buck change shape, and before him stands the wildwoman and a young boy. His bride is older now, so she has started to grow her beard and is much less beautiful. But he doesn’t care. He embraces her, and holds his little son for the very first time.
Uh, the herder can barely speak. He’s sobbing, he’s a mess. The wildwoman tells him she regrets leaving like that, and she's missed him too. But she needs the hills, she needs her herd. She can never be happy in his world.
They come to an agreement that night. They will have to spend most of their life apart, there’s no way around it. But they will meet again every summer, up in the mountain pastures. And their son is both human and wildfolk, so, maybe he can be happy in both worlds? They agree to hand him off year after year. The child will spend half of his life in the village with the humans and his father, and half of his life in the hills with the deer and his mother.
So, the family spends that summer together, and when the time comes to part, the herder returns to the village with his son. The child is rather eccentric. He's only a toddler, but can already run like a deer. He takes a long time to learn to speak. And he hates clothes. His father eventually gets him to stay dressed, but the kid never wears any shoes. His little feet are strong. Like, uh. Hooves.
Anyway, yeah, the herder misses his wife every day, and dreads each year that he will be apart from his son. But he can live with it. He knows he will see them both again.
And that’s how he spends the rest of his days. His son stays with his human father one year, and with his wildwoman mother the next, and all three meet together during the summer. It’s not a normal life for a herdsman by any means. He has no wife in the village to run his home and manage his livestock, and his son is often away, and-. Usually there’s a bit here where the kid grows up and has babies with, um, normal deer. So the herder doesn’t exactly have grandchildren either.
So, yeah. He lives a strange life, and he leaves no heirs behind, but he would not be happy any other way. Uh. That’s it.”
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Canonicals Tournament FINAL
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The final is between Luo Binghe from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (shizun: Shen Qingqiu) and Mo Ran from The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (shizun: Chu Wanning)
Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)
Luo Binghe:
Luo Binghe's shizun Shen Qingqiu caused his sexual awakening and they lived together with Luo Binghe acting similar to a housewife.
Even after being betayed, stabbed, and pushed into the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe still loved Shen Qingqiu and wanted answers instead of revenge. Instead he had to repeatedly suffer his shizun dying in his arms and assumed abandonment. Which makes him absolutely lose it, made even worse by his evil sword Xin Mo which worsens all of his negative emotions and destroys its hosts, along with additional trauma over the course of the story.
He reused the sword that his shizun sacrificed himself to free him from, cuddles the corpse every night for five years to preserve it, he creates dreams of their happy years together but never made a Shen Qingqiu that would speak to him, he kidnapped and destroyed cultivators' cores so he could feed xin mo and preserve sqq's corpse, he rebuilds their house in his demonic palace, he spent years fixing sqq's destroyed cultivation and trying to revive him, he forces Shen Qingqiu live in that new house, he rescues and repeatedly puts himself in harms way to protect sqq, he tries to destroy the world so Shen Qingqiu can only love him (due to being driven mad by Xin Mo and his believed abandonment by sqq). He tries to kill himself after Shen Qingqiu dies for him again. He would do absolutely ANYTHING for Shen Qingqiu! He's increadibly jealous of everyone Shen Qingqiu gives attention to, including stairsweeps he smiles at. Luo Binghe has sooo much wrong with him and it makes him so lovable. He's so incredibly traumatized, driven by love and desperation for a majority of the story. He loves Shen Qingqiu so much and can't bear to live without him.
After everything? He lets Shen Qingqiu go, wanting him to be happy even if it means sqq won't stay with him. But sqq wanted to stay together! He gets his man! There is in world porn written about them, they have weird kinky sex inspired by the porn, they get married! Luo Binghe cries regularly for sqq, so sqq can dote on him despite his thin face. Luo Binghe is shameless and adores sqq. Lbh got so nervous that he fell flat on his face when proposing! Lbh loves sqq so much and wants him to be happy more than anything else!
More on disciple era:
Luo Binghe's sexual awakening was his shizun tied up and shirtless. He fell in love after Shen Qingqiu got poisoned protecting him. He moved into his shizun's house and handled all of the cooking and cleaning, would regularly fake fall into Shen Qingqiu during training to get hugs. He got a boner from being forcibly cuddled to heal his injuries. And ran to jump into a lake after being spanked for struggling too much during the forced cuddling. Sqq still never noticed lbh's affections.
--
It took him like 3(three) interactions with nice shizun (transmigrator who replaced his old one) to fall irrevocably in love. baby boy was ready he had mommy issues daddy issues and honestly by that time shizun issues too... luckily his new shizun can fill all those roles and more!
#lbh is THE shizunfucker
#binghe calling him shizun is a kink at some point its definitely him
#vote binghe!!#he wanted to fuck shizun so much that shizun died twice for him
#... i mean. luo binghe is a satire of the shizun fuckers character trope. hes an exageration of it so hes Very It
#luo binghe#again its basically a kink for him as well that puts it on another level
#cmon man#binghe is THE shizun fucker#activily has to be told to not call his husband shizun during sex
#binghe is THE shizunfucker supreme. no competition.
Mo Ran:
*gestures helplessly at the whole damn book*
#Mo 'I died and went into the past after the teacher I hated died in my arms and I dream of him every night' Ran???#of course its him
#vote for Mo ran I’m sorry but he is the emperor shizunfucker of all the shizunfuckers#he is the man the myth the legend#he’s the one you think of immediately when someone says shizunfucker
Extra Propaganda here. There are 3 versions of Mo Ran throughout Erha and every single one of them either wants to or did fuck their Shizun. Even in the darkest timeline when he thought he hated CWN more than anyone he fucked him. This boy is obsessed.
#mo ran 100%#he truly has the shizunfucker mentality
#mo ran#HAS TO WIN#he wants to fuck his Shizun so bad
#but it's gotta be mo ran#the all-time shizunfucker in this world that world and beyond
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fadingstudentbananacookie · 9 months ago
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It's hilarious how Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren carry the Green's legacy in spirit by destroying House Targaryen through internal conflicts decades later.
Aegon IV grows up to be far more extreme and gluttonous than Aegon II could ever be, coupled with a greater degree of cowardice (Aegon II would never). His sister Naerys is a little Helaena/Alicent-coded, but her cousin Daena mirrors Alicent more than I could imagine. And I am precisely talking about book!Alicent here.
Both Alicent and Daena were unapologetic in their pursuit of power after years of abuse and neglect, demanding the realm recognize their sons as kings by birthright. Neither of them gave two fucks about starting a civil war and I call that a slayyy. Go, my queens!
If Daena had been more like Rhaenyra, believe me when I say I wouldn't have liked her as much. It's their defiance that makes both Alicent and Daena more compelling characters.
I don't necessarily think Daena would have liked Alicent, but she would have definitely felt grudging respect and admiration for her courage.
Daeron the Young Dragon is just like Daeron the Daring (both are extremely popular among the nobles and the smallfolk). Both died young and were eternalized. Baelor the Blessed is obsessed with catholicism and guilt to a point that would even scare Alicent and Criston.
Aemon the Dragonknight is essentially a more refined, though not necessarily cooler, version of Aemond One-Eye. Aemon literally stood aside while his sister endured years of sexual and psychological abuse from her brother-husband. Aemond would never have stood by if Aegon II had tried to harm Helaena. His loyalty and protectiveness towards his sister would have driven him to intervene. Their love stories are similar too, with many fans shipping Aemond with Helaena, and Aemon with Naerys.
Elaena is intriguing, but there's not much to say about her or her sister Rhaena.
Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren are worse than the Targtowers in every aspect. Alicent (the Hightowers) and her children de-stabilized House Targaryen during the Dance, but Rhaenyra's grandchildren did so much worse by starting a civil war that lasted for generations to come. Team Black got the realm and power back, and they still fucked up. Again.
Another intriguing aspect is that Alicent and her children had legitimate reasons to resist and fight for Aegon's claim to the throne by feudal right—even if those reasons were fueled by spite and revenge. Alicent endured years of sexual abuse from Viserys, bearing children he barely acknowledged. She was humiliated in court and called "mad" when her son lost his eye, and Rhaenyra's son faced no repercussions—not even a slap on the wrist.
The Targtower children were neglected by their father for years and were practically forgotten when Rhaenyra lived in the Red Keep with her sons in tow. (And if you think Rhaenyra didn’t use her father’s love and rejection of his other children as a political machination, then you’re an absolute idiot.) If usurping her throne was the biggest fuck you they could give Rhaenyra and Viserys, then I fully support it!
Despite their complicated and angry feelings towards each other, the Greens would never act on them to cause significant harm. They understood that they only had each other for support and protection. But Rhaenyra's grandchildren, who were also in a similar situation, harbored outright hatred for each other for no reason! You'd think after the Dance, they would have learned a thing or two about the importance of family, but the gang didn't give a single fuck LMAO.
Daemon and Rhaenyra's grandchildren didn't have significant opposition. House Targaryen still held substantial power and ruled over the other Great Houses. Although they had to be more cautious without having dragons to threaten others, the internal strife could have been avoided if Daena and her sisters had been treated like actual human beings rather than cattle. (If Alicent was treated better and her children were acknowledged by Viserys and the rest of his family). The lack of care and respect towards them sowed the seeds of war, leading to the internal conflicts that ultimately weakened the dynasty.
The generational cycle of abuse and neglect within House Targaryen is one of the main key reasons why they were driven to extinction in merely three centuries. House Hightower and House Baratheon only did so little to show their true color.
Rhaenyra's claim that "The only thing that could tear down the House of the Dragon was itself," couldn't be more accurate!
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sixxteenbullets · 2 years ago
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for the johnny cade smut, it can be just an "i was worried about you" and kind of caring smut, the sex being rough but with praise? sorry if this doesn't make sense!
I WAS WORRIED
PAIRING- JOHNNY CADE X FEM!READER
WARNINGS- MENTIONS OF MURDER, P IN V, LOVING SMUT, WRITTEN BADLY
Smut starts at paragraph 14
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Hearing that your boyfriend had gotten into trouble wasn't nice to hear. Especially when it involved a murder in self defence of a well known Soc boy. When Y/n heard about it, she felt many different things. The first was shock, then anger at how someone could try and hurt her baby, and then sadness because he had to go into hiding to avoid the mess.
That's what brought her to her current situation, demanding that Dallas Winston take her to him. "No, with that big mouth of yours, everybody would know."
That was absolute bullshit, they both knew it. Sure, she likes to gossip, but never at the stakes of her friends, definitely not at the stake of her lover. "Yes! Now get in this car and take me to see Johnny!"
He stood still for a moment, eyes narrowed, jaw clenching and unclenching. She grew nervous, but only for a moment before he scoffed and got into the driver's seat. As much as he didn't want to take the chance of his best friend getting caught, he knew Y/n was a good girl. She'd never rat. Plus, it would keep Johnny's mouth shut about her for a minute.
They didn't speak throughout the whole ride. There was nothing to say. Y/n wasn't shy about showing her anxiety through the tapping of a foot or the silent mumble from her lips as she thought about all of the things that could go wrong. While Dallas tried to hide what he was feeling, he didn't do it well. He touched his face too much, looked away from the road too much. He was stressed and it was clear to her, but they said nothing to comfort each other.
As soon as the thunderbird was parked in front of an old church, Y/n was off. Dallas only shook his head as he watched her run straight into the building and give the two of them a near heart attack. Ponyboy, once he realised who she was, just gave a soft smile and breathed in relief. Johnny on the other hand, wasted no time jumping up to pull her into him. There were no words to describe how refreshing it was for the boys to see a new face.
The two held each other for a while, ignoring Dallas and Ponyboy's teases and laughs. She was the one who broke the hug, much to his dismay, and headed over to the other criminal to give him a hug. He gladly accepted it and even showed disappointment when she ended it. She understood though, going so long without any sort of comforting affection like that must have been brutal.
After the tension of the arrival proved short-lived, the four all began conversing in whatever they could think of. This went on until Dallas abruptly stood up and had Ponyboy take him outside to their food supply as he was getting hungry.
When the two boys were gone, Johnny and Y/n sat in a comforting silence, eyes moving between contact and lips. There was an unspoken thought lingering between them, something that neither of them had built up the courage to say. It wasn't until she acted on an impulse and smashed her lips into his did he realise that she was very real and very much there. This was happening.
The kiss was filled with so much hunger and passion that he felt light headed. The love which was ignited between them was so foreign to him. She gave him everything she had and more. Johnny Cade was only eighteen years old, as was she, and his life was at risk. He could be thrown into prison, killed for revenge, or be driven mad by the constant danger he was in. That was too real. More than their love or their kiss. More than the hand that slid down his torso, and more than his actions of pulling away from her. "Not here,"
Y/n's only thoughts as she was being taken to a loft in the back of the abandoned church was how she was going to show her boyfriend how much she cared for him.
Johnny was laying on his back in no time, his girl slowly pressing kisses all over his face. Every one of them brought him happiness. At one point she stopped, pressing one last kiss to his jaw before she met his eyes again. Her legs moved to straddle his hips and her hands held his face. "I was so worried about you," she breathed. "So worried."
"Let me make it up to you." These words surprised both of them. She didn't think he would be so forward, and he thought the exact same thing.
In one swift, careful motion, he was on top. His hand was behind her head and his lips were on her neck. She closed her eyes and took in his warmth. Her lips parted in silent ecstasy as his hand roamed down her side, pulling her shirt up to be even with her waist. That was his next portrait. Kisses were trailed down her middle, stopping just above her pants before he pulled away.
A pathetic complaint left her mouth incoherently, but it was short lived as she saw his hands trail to his hips. She followed in suit by removing her shirt and her own pants. The look in his eyes was unreadable before it changed to hunger. Something that she's never seen before. And, fuck, was it hot.
Their lips met again and his hips grinded down into hers, creating a shameless moan from both of them. But he didn't stop there, every bit of contact made only encouraged the dirty passion.
It was his turn to pull away from her then, meet her eyes and speak so softly that she could hardly hear him. "Are you sure? Are you ready?"
"I want you." That was all he needed to hear before he tore away her underwear and lined up with her entrance. The anticipation got to her and made her close her eyes, preparing for what was about to come.
Seeing this, he pressed his forehead to hers. "I love you."
Every inch of him that was thrust into her was savored by each of them. Every inch of skin that they could think of was flooded with warmth. Her leg swung up over his hip, his hand gripping her thigh, moving up slowly to wrap around her waist and keep her impossibly close to him.
A tear of pure euphoria slipped down one of their faces, they didn't know which of them was crying but the salty taste that joined their lips confirmed that it was happening. Whatever discomfort there was for either lover couldn't even be remotely matched by the amount of love and pleasure they were engulfed in.
It was nearly impossible to keep quiet. Dallas and Ponyboy were not far from them, just outside the church. They could hear so easily. The risk, however, was not very present in their minds. Many other thoughts were taking over. For example, how fucking good they both felt.
His hips grinded into hers at a quick pace, pelvis hitting her clit with every motion. Her back arched and her torso met his. The arm that wasn't wrapped around her was used to slide down her arm as their fingers intertwined. Light, feathery kisses were pressed against her breasts.
She spoke in slow, breathy words. "You're so. . . Good."
For a brief moment, Y/n opened her eyes to look at Johnny. His face was twisted into an expression that could only be described as heavenly. A small, emotional smile graced her lips as she let her eyes close once more.
"You're beautiful." He was so quiet. His face hurried into her neck, mouth opened as he neared his high. The hot breath on her neck was something she never thought she'd enjoy so much. There was a tightness that grew in her core, then, building up so much that she struggled to keep from crying out.
As if nature was on their side that day, they reached their climax together. A fire ignited between them and spread through their most connected points all the way to the tips of their fingers, still laced together tight. The intimacy was crushing them in the most pleasurable way.
Her empty hand went to tangle in his hair, gripping tight. The arm that he had wrapped around her middle moved downward so that his hand could squeeze the fat of her ass.
He had pulled out and released on the ground between her thighs. There wasn't much time to allow his body to calm down before his attention was back on the girl in front of him. Her eyes were still closed as she attempted to calm down from her own high. He crawled back up beside her and laid down. She was quickly pulled into an embrace, neither party caring about how sweaty the other was.
"You're coming back again next week." It wasn't much of a question as it was a statement.
She breathed a laugh and nodded against his chest. "Yeah, I am."
______
UGHHHH. RAHH. I'm sorry but I suck at smut lol. I'm not much of a johnny girl, nor a smut girl, so I'm sorry this isn't as good as it could have been.
@thesunmeltedthegrayaway on the other hand, has some really good works on johnny!
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