#especially when you have to face the consequences often

[bluebells-and-dragonflies]

Viktor has carried a torch for you for months, maybe even years, before you know anything about it.

He knows exactly when it started. Not at first sight, which relieves him- at least he's managed to avoid one cliche in this embarrassment.

You'd been regularly visiting the lab for a while. As one of the three people Jayce would call an actual friend, you had carte blanche to occupy the space whenever you liked (which Jayce had given without consulting Viktor. He likely wouldn't have minded, especially in those early, heady days of partnership, but still, it's the principle of the thing), and weekday afternoons often found you lounging on the beaten couch in the middle of the room, neck-deep in your literary and political studies. Those days were often quiet, except for the rustle of pages, the scratch of chalk on blackboard, the occasional sigh as someone's focus stuttered. Nothing to object to. Nothing to notice.

Unfortunately, long-term serenity was perhaps too much to ask considering his choice in business partner. As frequently as your days were spent in deep thought, they were spent in constant conversation with Jayce, and that is where Viktor's problem began.

Viktor has been self-contained for so long that he can no longer remember whether or not his isolation is a choice or simply consequence of who he is. He has always preferred the company of his own mind to the friendship of others, with one, perhaps two, exceptions. Almost always, he prefers to observe, watching the people around him rather than engaging. When he has something more important to think about- which, today and also basically every day, working so hard to bring magic to a material world, he certainly does- he simply allows conversation to wash over him and continues his work. Instinct, not just habit.

Except. From the first, listening to you speak- really speak, with passion or sincerity or wryness, anything so long as you're saying something- was as distracting, as riveting, as the snatch of orchestral music heard when passing a concert hall. The bell-struck sound of your laugh, your quick, dry wit. The way you managed to make the most mundane topics and the dullest days seem worth notice. It was- you were- distracting. Distracting enough that he found himself joining in with you, parrying a point you've just made or riffing on a joke. And when you'd counter him, or laugh at one of his asides, or, memorably, descend with him into a near-shouting match over which neighborhood bakery made the best macarons, he felt electric. You made him braver, funnier, more himself. Within months, you'd become the second person he would call a friend.

It's humiliating, frankly. He, a grown man who prides himself on his rationality and composure, whipping around in his chair whenever there's a knock on the laboratory door and feeling himself deflate when the person who walks through it isn't you. He, a respected scientist, unable to sleep when he finally makes it to his bed (or, more frequently, the couch in the lab) because he can't close his eyes without seeing your face. He, a man who has always prided himself on his rationality and composure, doodling on half-forgotten pages of work while he daydreams about burying his face in your hair.

He tries to distract himself. It doesn't work.

He's sick with you- that's the only way he can think to describe it on the sodden, drunken night he spends with Jayce the day after his birthday (how Jayce ever found out when his birthday was is still a mystery that irks him to no end), when the liquor and the tide of his emotion create an impulsive need to speak to someone, anyone, about you. You've made him sick, lovesick, in the truest sense of the phrase- he can hardly eat, hardly sleep, you've taken over so many of his thoughts. Overhearing you talk about your date was enough to undo him, send him straight back to the rib-breaking jealousy usually reserved for teenagers, and he's nearly thirty. He got nauseous- physically, actually, nauseous- picturing another person touching you. It's humiliating, unbearable, completely unbefitting a man of science.

He feels out of his mind, possessed. You haunt him like a ghost. The idea of you hovers at his shoulder as he goes about his day asserting itself at every opportunity. He wants it to stop. He wishes it was you and not your spirit.

Jayce, to his credit, handles this remarkably well. He waits until he's sure Viktor's tirade is over before he asks do you want to do something about it?, but Viktor only laughs derisively and slams the rest of his vodka glass back like it's water. I only take risks when there is a chance of success.

If Viktor was less drunk, he would notice Jayce's tells. He would notice how he's been practically bouncing with energy, how he's been fighting to hold back a grin. He might even ask what the problem was. As it is, he's smashed, and too wrapped up in self-pity to do it anyway. So it comes as an immense surprise when Jayce replies, I'd take the bet.

Viktor's head jerks up . What?

I can't really say. There would be a direct attempt on my life. Jayce drums his fingers on the table between them. Insider trading, you know, deeply frowned upon. But trust me. Ask. See what happens.

The moment he says it, Viktor knows that he will.

[archivalofsins]

I'm gonna just nip this in the bud. I will say some people are going to find others within this space heartless or believe that they just despise certain characters. Or that they just favor another character so much that they don't care about any other one or anything else that may happen.

I'm pretty sure given my responses today people are going to think that about me too. It won't be the first time they will either. At times it goes beyond that though.

Personally I hate when people are annoying know-it-alls who parade around going,

"Well how do you feel about the choices you made now, huh?"

As if everyone else has egg on their face but them. Also for those actually curious about the answer to that question and wondering how to respond to talking points like that.

I tend to really reflect on my choices and examine whether I'm personally satisfied with them or not then adjust accordingly moving forward. I'm the sort that dwells on things often in real life. So when it comes to media especially interactive media I tend to take every decision seriously.

It's easier to not engage with people acting in bad faith and only making statements in order to shame and ridicule others. However, I feel what's more important than the person asking the loaded question are the feelings of the individuals being asked. It's important to distinguish if one is regretting something genuinely or being made to regret it through the impact of others.

Because if it's the latter removing oneself from the setting where those people are for a bit of time may be best.

I used to have this issue with people being extremely critical of my life choices and how I discussed as well as engaged with my interests. Sadly, I had to cut a lot of people out of my life in order to live it fully. I also needed to be more firm with myself and figure out when to tell myself no and stick to that no.

Yet, when it comes to making decisions with media I've always been of the same mind on it. So when people do ask questions like this about things that I enjoy, pressure me into choosing options in games that'd I'd rather not because they've attached some sort of moral judgment to play styles, or simply want to gatekeep I can still choose the route most comfortable for me and what I want to experience.

I want to be able to say,

"Well, since you're asking I'm still as pleased with my choices as when I made them. I don't make decisions solely based upon how much I fear the consequences of not making them or making them. I tend to seek out a resolution that will allow me to avoid creating more regrets for myself or betraying my own feelings and/or beliefs. Never because a character or person in real life threatens me with any sort of consequences. I don't enjoy being strong-armed or pushed into making a judgment. I care about others but when it comes to the way I live my life and what I'm willing to allow or not the one person that should be listened to the most there is me. Hope this helps."

Or,

"It's regrettable and maybe if I knew that this would be the outcome my choices would have changed."

Depending on how little or how much I know about the media. In the case of Milgram I'm happy to say my feelings are the former instead of the latter. I'm happy that Milgram regardless of how many fans don't take it seriously has a staff that does. Especially the writer who is willing to take Milgram to the places that the audience's choices leads it to.

Certainly this doesn't change that it is undeniably tragic that so many people lost their beloved characters today. Possibly due to the actions of someone else's favorite character or another favorite of their own. That can cause a great deal of hurt and upset. That's something which should be considered and respected by everyone.

However, being a whiny little know-it-all or a little "I told you so" is going to get people the same energy they choose to put in today. Especially given this environment gets so pissy when people's theories are proven correct. Then pitch a fit because it didn't align with their interpretation. Going off claiming things like the writer just wrote it wrong or just writing straight libel about the staff in general.

So many people are tired of some individuals trying to make other people in fandom feel like fools for liking or disliking a character. For voicing their opinion on a piece of media. For voting on the series driven by audience engagement.

If anyone has a problem with the rules of Milgram they can just not play. Hate the game not the player.

From the beginning the series told its audience,

"Losers please exit left."

There's no amount of I told you so that is going to magically change what Milgram is. It's more likely to upset and discourage people who enjoy the series from showing interest in it publicly which is a disservice to everyone.

Shaming people for voting a certain way needs to stop. The pick me voting trends need to stop. Oh well I'm a inno voter so, well I was a guilty voter so.

Literally absolutely no one cares.

People can't even bother to vote in real life elections there are many people who don't vote in Milgram as well. Many of those individuals could easily say well it's not on me I never voted and every party would still be looking pretty ridiculous by the end of that debacle.

I get that people may be upset about their favorite characters dying but behaving like this is just a bit embarrassing. Especially since any of the people innocent could have intervened with Haruka and the one person to attempt to is the guy the fandom is always harping about not being like.

At a point it just comes off as willfully missing the point and intent behind the work.

This is the very last trial we're going to get to vote on at all.

Please, let's try to make it a fun one instead of a shame filled tit-for-tat experience. Because a good deal of the characters still standing now were innocent trial two, one, or both of them. The actions of trial one aren't just negated by these characters second verdicts.

The result we've reached right now is a culmination of many choices. The good and the bad. If Mu was voted guilty from the start or Haruka was they more than likely may not have had a relationship at all. If Amane was voted innocent round one she may not have fallen back on her beliefs as hard as she did trial two.

Jackalope even said in the very first voice drama,

Es Voice Drama 8:56s

"If you don't push her, you'll just end up believing the assumptions that she's pure, innocent, and kindhearted."

Once we go into causation no one's hands here are clean.

Beyond that, there's no telling what could happen from this last verdict or after it. What the result of that final verdict will be is anyone's guess. Shidou said there was a death at the end of Milgram in his first trial interrogation,

Shidou Molech 5:55

"Hm... But this place does reek of death. I'm sure that some sort of death will lie at the end of Milgram."

Yet there have already been three deaths at the beginning of the end.

The prisoners are stated not to be able to attack each other during the trials barring one completely unregulated exception. So there may not be any more attacks up to the end. We don't know if there's another intermission after this either.

Or even how the verdicts have impacted the prisoners still alive on top of their responses to the deaths. Hell; we don't even know how this occurred yet. It feels a bit like jumping the gun to blame it on the verdicts of one trial or one prisoner especially when Yamamaka stated during trial two the progression of Milgram is not decided solely on how the characters respond to their verdicts individually but how these verdicts overlap and impact everyone within Milgram.

Q.05 So far, what has been the most challenging? Yamanaka:

Yamanaka Because I have to change the script in accordance with the audience's decisions, I can't create the entire story in advance. Furthermore, as of the second trial, there aren't only individual character storylines, the prisoner's verdicts begin to emerge and they influence each other. That is to say, I can't start writing until after everyone's results are out. Willingly subjecting myself to doing something this unreasonable, is what I feel is difficult for me. But because DECO*27 is also going through the same hell, we're holding on to some semblance of sanity.

So, blaming it on just one thing is a bit reductive in my opinion. Every part of the staff have worked their best to create a story where the characters don't feel two-dimensional who instead come off like anyone one someone could come across in their everyday life.

The ways the verdicts impact all of them reflect that. That's the goal and I think it's a respectable one to strive for.

Gotta preface this with it may be inaccurate because google translate but still ,

流れてくるシナリオ・キャラクター系の創作論とか本当見てられない。物語をスムーズに��すために産まれたキャラクターなんて型にハマったものを作るくらいなら、物語が止まっちまうくらいめんどくせぇキャラクターを創って、どうしようもなく血反吐吐いて地獄の底でピースでええわい。 I really can't stand to look at the creative theories on scenarios and characters that are floating around. Rather than making a character that fits into a mold and is created to make the story go smoothly, I'd rather create a character that's so annoying that it stops the story, vomit blood and die in the depths of hell.

Also this isn't specific to Milgram theories or anything this is just a general statement. He also said this in the Hallucination interview,

Q.04 So far, what's made you the happiest? Yamanaka: Everything. As a creator it brings me great joy to see a work that existed in my mind, take shape and be enjoyed by so many people. Other than that, because I also love the characters I've birthed, seeing all the guards talking about them and sharing their thoughts, both positive and negative, has to be the best feeling.

Ultimately I believe it's good to have things that are sometimes more complicated than we believe they can be. What's not good is blaming and shaming others for things not going exactly the way one may have personally wanted them to.

Please, just stop this. It is not a flex, no one is impressed, it's just meanspirited. Doing this is a waste of the time and energy of everyone who is involved whether they are doing it, coming across it, or being made victim to it.

It's a cesspit that only ruins any enjoyment all of us could have literally doing anything else. Everyone has been begging for an update and now that there's a full fucking preshow before the last trial some people only have complaints.

It really makes no sense.

It feels like most people in this space were waiting for an update to find something to vindicate their upset or give them the greenlight to go ahead and harass others again for how they engage with the work.

Come on now that can't be anything other than gross.

If that was the desire of people doing anything like this then they are unquestionably worse bullies than any of the characters in Milgram who need to take some time to reflect on themselves.

Because at a point change can only start with ourselves.

[talonabraxas]

"I am the unknown Will, The Anger that threatens glory and ruin: Lord of Storms am I, in heaven high and caverns deep. I am the Father of the War, Odin for you, Wotan for him, Wayfarer, Wanderer, beggar, king, numen, genius, strength and ring." -Artur Balder, in "Invocations and Oracles"

Odin - Ansuz Talon Abraxas Origin and Meaning of the Ansuz Rune

Ansuz is in the fourth position of the older runic alphabet Futhark. Alternative names are Ansus, Ansur, Ós, Áss. This rune governs people's abilities to name all things around them. Ansuz a rune of order.

Naming a thing correctly can give power over that thing. Therefore, in ancient traditions, incantations were often used to dispel malevolent spirits, break psychological bonds, or bind demons.

Ansuz is the rune of creative expression. It shows us the power of language, passing down the knowledge of the ancestors from generation to generation through the spoken word. This rune represents both spiritual and worldly power, clarification and truth.

For this reason, lessons in life must be learned thoroughly in order to attain wisdom. Ansuz announces a message to those seeking advice, which in our time may well correspond to correspondence by telephone call or a video chat.

In Norse mysticism, the rune Ansuz corresponds to the one-eyed wanderer Odin. His personality combines the qualities of shaman, chieftain, warrior and sage.

It is said that the wandering god often mingled with people to examine and observe them. When doing so, he wore a long gray cloak, walked slightly bent and lowered his face to the ground to learn about the life of the world unrecognized.

Ansuz symbolizes communication through the god of wind: sound waves spread through the air and become audible or visible signs are effectively used for non-verbal communication. The rune symbol resembles the Old English understanding after signal pennants, which served for communication over long distances. This technique has survived to this day in the navy as the flag alphabet. But signals also have their place in everyday life. A red traffic light means "stop", turn arrows and speed signs guide our way. All signals are part of normality through daily contact. The signals of the runes, however, are more profound. Recognize the signals that lead to the answer, even if you have to "think around the corner." Use intuition to understand the message.

The perception of small signals must first be sensitized in our hectic way of life, especially when it concerns emotions or the body. The heart rhythm disturbances are simply not heeded because there is no time to pay attention to them. On the contrary, more work is done until, in the worst case, serious consequences cause total failure. This is not a functional signal, but a depressing feeling that manifests itself with heart problems. Ansuz advises you to listen to your body's signs and treat yourself respectfully. If you are willing to recognize the messages transmitted and learn lessons from them, your life will be more harmonious. Signs are appearing everywhere in your environment. Learn to see them and respond to them. Ansuz knows that you have been blind to them until now. By sharpening all your senses, you will achieve complete clarity about what to do now. Respond properly to the signals, stop at the red light and step on the gas when it turns green. Do not watch from a distant perspective, but meet things consciously, because it could be an indication of a new development. All occurrences have a special meaning. When you learn this truth, you will understand and pay attention to the messages around you.

[red-takami]

What are some safety precautions you recommend scripting for mha drs? or anything you recommend scripting for mha/any dr in general

Us this was the first shifting question I've gotten on this account (I do not use Tumblr like I should.)

Anyway!!! Safety is sooo important for any Dr of yours! Mha specifically is a reality where you'll likely end up encountering some choppy waters more than often (cough villainy cough) or just be a part of/witness some gnarly shit.

Obviously, you probably know this which is why you're asking what are some things to script to make your shift a bit more comfortable in terms of safety. I think you all know that I'm definitely not the safestttt person in my Dr, getting into fights and leaving the country, doing shit that a kid still in first year highschool shouldn't. However! That just means I know PERSONALLY (oh no🙁) what things you should avoid and WHY.

1. I wanna say that whatever your Dr is like, vs. how YOU want to experience it? These safety precautions could differ. So, take these a sort through them as you think about your Dr with these in mind and take what you deem useful, and leave the rest.

2. If you're a pro hero/ teacher at UA. Mainly class 1A, but this goes for all classes. You absolutely will have to take responsibility when it's time to look after your kids. This goes for any situation, INCLUDING being an actual teacher you guys. Don't slack off when teaching these kids just because nothing life threatening and attention capturing is happening at that moment. What would happen if there were to be an emergency and your kids wouldn't know what to do because you lacked the sense to build a bond with those kids to know how they'd react to a situation like that? Or them not knowing how to proceed and possibly hurting themselves or others in the process, INCLUDING YOU!!! whatever class u teach or look after, please keep in mind that these are real children, there to learn from YOU.

3. Student at UA! You're probably well aware about your activity with quirks during the school days and with each other throughout the years. Class 1A,1B, General Studies, no matter. You'll probably end up doing SOMETHING that revolves around quirk usage or something of the sort. This is dangerous how? Itself isn't dangerous no, but sometimes (especially since all of y'all's Drs are so personal and unique = unpredictable) you will likely know personally that the metahuman society is

I N T E N S E. UA does an OUTSTANDING job at giving the students (and teachers. Rip aizawa's elbow.) a taste of that intensity. And get this!!! That's only a small bit of the ONE category (hero life) OUT OF HUNDREDS!!! ISN'T THAT HILARIOUS 😂😂🥲🥲. When I say intense, I don't mean like fighting for ur life everyday (except for the times that u do, indeed fight for ur life 🌚) I mean it in a sense that you'll face certain things in your Dr that you would've never given thought towards before. You'll experience life there and deal with society's mess just like you do in your Cr. SO ! The safety precaution I think you should keep in mind is to just be prepared. Script that before anything super big/impactful happens - you're given time and resources to properly address the upcoming issues that way you have everything you might need to make it out as unscathed as possible. Whatever form that may take, both physical and mental.

4. Be prepared to have a life outside of your class (assuming again that you're a student at UA). Take me for example, 99% of my content/storytime and main shifting experiences shared are almost ALWAYS outside of UA workings and my relationship with my friends and family. If you're not a student, STILL. Specifically for people who intend to be independent or even a part of something big like a villain organization for example. Anything really, you will need to understand that you have your own life to pay attention to-take care of.

5. Your actions/decisions hold value. They WILL have consequences you guys. This is the reality pretty much everywhere, you make a choice and things happen because of that choice. This isn't bad, nor is it good - it's just the way things work. You script that your body doesn't react to poisonous quirks? Cool. Expect some kind of condition or something SPECIFIC that allows this to happen. You choose to become a teacher? Amazing! Now you have the responsibility of teaching and guiding your children. You're a villain? Fine! You will learn fairly quickly what a villain's life would look like and learn to accept it (or decide it's not for you, of course that's always a possibility). This could go on forever, the point is that you will always find that there are things that you probably didn't account for while shifting to a place such as MHA, and that's OK! just keep it in mind is all, this helps with keeping your Dr on a realistic and very real place in your mind.

This is wayyyyy too long whoops. Anyway!!! I'll be posting my Tik Toks on here starting today, probably later so sorry for the incoming spam🥲.

[gothicxreylover]

Greetings! I'm currently kind of in the mood for yandere kny content, especially yandere hashira x reader, and I found your stories by chance. I must say that I'm positively impressed and mesmerized by them and keep wanting to read more 😊

If requests are still open and you're still interested, I have this request in mind that I'd love to see your writing about it: 「yandere hashira (like all 9) with a female s/o who has complete heterochromia but she covered one of her eyes with an eyepatch so they didn't know. She was insecure and lacked self-esteem as the covered eye was made fun of because it looked slightly inhuman. And she was called a demon many times because of that. How would the hashira react to seeing her real eyes for the first time?」

Whether her odd eye colors are congenital or a result of a strange illness/curse is totally up to you. Take your time and have a nice day!

Here’s your request and I hope you like it! I appreciate you nice words and compliments as it makes me happy :)

Giyu Tomioka (Water Hashira)

Giyu’s reserved and stoic nature makes him someone who doesn’t express emotions easily, but his love for you runs deep, and his yandere tendencies make him extremely protective and possessive. When he first sees your uncovered heterochromatic eye, he’s struck by its unique beauty—but his heart also aches at the thought of the pain and insecurity that led you to hide it.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Giyu’s expression freezes, his piercing blue eyes locking onto yours. He doesn’t speak at first, his gaze lingering on your uncovered eye as if committing every detail to memory. His silence makes you anxious, and you instinctively reach for the eyepatch again, but before you can put it back, his hand gently stops yours. “Don’t,” he says quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. There’s no anger in his tone—only an almost palpable sadness.

“Why did you hide this from me?” he asks, his voice laced with both confusion and hurt. When you hesitantly explain that you’ve been called a demon and mocked for your appearance, his expression hardens. His hands clench into fists at his sides, his knuckles turning white. “Who?” he demands, his voice now cold and sharp. “Who dared to say that to you?��

• Behavior: Giyu’s obsession manifests in a quiet but relentless determination to protect you from any further harm. He would go out of his way to track down anyone who insulted you in the past, ensuring they face consequences—whether through subtle intimidation or direct confrontation. He doesn’t believe in needless cruelty, but for you, he’ll make an exception.

At the same time, Giyu becomes increasingly possessive of your time and attention. He frequently reassures you, though his words are often blunt and understated. “Your eyes are perfect,” he says one evening as you sit together, his gaze unwavering. “You don’t need to hide them. Not from me. Not from anyone.” His protectiveness might border on suffocating at times, as he insists on accompanying you wherever you go, silently ensuring that no one else gets the chance to hurt you.

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Giyu’s reaction is immediate. He’ll gently but firmly remove it, his hand lingering on your cheek. “Don’t cover yourself up,” he says, his voice low and filled with an almost desperate intensity. “I want to see all of you. Always.”

In his quieter moments, Giyu finds himself staring at your uncovered eye, marveling at its uniqueness and silently vowing to cherish every part of you. His obsession becomes all-consuming, but his love is genuine, and he’ll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure and loved in his presence.

Kyojuro Rengoku (Flame Hashira)

Kyojuro’s boundless enthusiasm and passion for life make him an incredibly devoted partner. When he discovers your uncovered eye, his reaction is immediate and intense, as he’s struck by both its beauty and the pain you must have endured. His yandere tendencies only amplify his desire to protect and cherish you.

• Reaction: The moment you remove the eyepatch, Kyojuro’s eyes widen, and his trademark exuberant smile spreads across his face. “ASTOUNDING!” he exclaims, his voice filled with genuine awe. He steps closer to you, gently cradling your face in his hands as he leans in to get a better look. “Your eyes are truly extraordinary! Like twin flames, each burning with its own unique brilliance!”

As you hesitantly explain why you’ve been hiding your eye, Kyojuro’s expression shifts. His smile softens, but his eyes burn with a fierce intensity. “What? People insulted you? Called you a demon?” His voice rises, his usual warmth giving way to a rare flash of anger. “How dare they? They had no right to speak to you that way! Tell me their names, and I will make sure they never trouble you again!”

• Behavior: Kyojuro’s love for you becomes even more all-encompassing. He makes it his mission to shower you with affection and reassurance, constantly reminding you of your worth. “You are one of a kind,” he says one morning, his voice filled with conviction. “No one else in this world could ever compare to you.”

His yandere tendencies drive him to seek out those who hurt you in the past, and though he usually avoids violence outside of combat, he’ll make an exception if it means defending your honor. He’ll confront them head-on, his booming voice making it clear that they are never to come near you again. “If you value your life, you will apologize for your cruel words and leave them alone!”

Kyojuro also becomes more protective, often insisting on accompanying you wherever you go. His presence is both comforting and overwhelming, as he constantly hovers nearby, ready to step in at the slightest sign of trouble. Despite his intensity, his love is deeply genuine, and he’ll do everything in his power to make you feel cherished.

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Kyojuro is quick to stop you, gently pulling your hand away. “There’s no need for that,” he says, his tone firm but kind. “Your eyes are a gift, and the world deserves to see them. But more importantly, I want to see them. Always.”

In quieter moments, Kyojuro often gazes into your eyes with a look of pure adoration, his golden and red hues reflecting the fire of his love. “You are my flame,” he says softly, his voice filled with emotion. “And I will never let anyone dim your light.”

Shinobu Kocho (Insect Hashira)

Shinobu’s gentle demeanor often hides her sharp intellect and darker thoughts, especially when it comes to you. As someone deeply protective and borderline obsessive, discovering your uncovered eye only intensifies her feelings.

• Reaction: When you finally work up the courage to show her your uncovered eye, Shinobu’s immediate reaction is a soft gasp, her lilac eyes widening ever so slightly. She steps closer, her head tilting as she examines your heterochromatic gaze. “Oh my,” she says, her voice dripping with sweetness. “What a lovely surprise. Why didn’t you show me this sooner?” Her smile is soft, but there’s an unmistakable glint of something sharper in her expression—a mix of fascination and possessiveness.

When you hesitantly explain why you kept it hidden, her smile falters for just a moment, replaced by a subtle tension in her jaw. “I see,” she murmurs, her voice unnervingly calm. “People called you a demon? Mocked you for something so beautiful?” Her tone is light, but there’s an undercurrent of steel. “How cruel. Don’t worry, dear. I’ll make sure they never trouble you again.”

• Behavior: Shinobu’s obsession with you deepens significantly after this revelation. She becomes relentless in her pursuit of those who insulted you in the past, though her actions are always calculated and subtle. Those who mocked you might suddenly find themselves facing mysterious accidents, debilitating illnesses, or even vanishing without a trace. Shinobu doesn’t like to get her hands dirty directly, but for you, she’ll make an exception.

Around you, she’s nothing but sweet and encouraging. She constantly reassures you of your beauty, her words like honey. “Your eyes are unique, just like you,” she says one evening, resting her chin on her hand as she gazes at you. “I’ve never seen anything so captivating. Why would you ever want to hide them?”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Shinobu is quick to intervene. She gently but firmly removes it, her fingers brushing against your face as she tucks the patch away. “Now, now, don’t be silly,” she says with a teasing smile. “You don’t need to hide from me. You’re perfect just the way you are.” Her voice is lighthearted, but there’s a quiet intensity in her gaze that makes it clear she won’t let you cover yourself up again.

Over time, Shinobu becomes even more possessive. She insists on spending as much time with you as possible, often finding excuses to keep you close. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, her sweet smile hides a darker promise. “Don’t worry, dear,” she whispers one evening as you sit together under the stars. “I’ll take care of everything. You’ll never have to feel insecure again.”

Mitsuri Kanroji (Love Hashira)

Mitsuri’s overflowing love and devotion make her a deeply caring and emotional partner. When she sees your uncovered eye for the first time, she’s overcome with admiration—and heartbreak at the thought of the pain you’ve endured.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Mitsuri’s reaction is instant and dramatic. Her green and pink eyes widen, and she clasps her hands together, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “Oh my goodness! You’re so beautiful!” she exclaims, her voice filled with pure adoration. She rushes forward, gently cupping your face in her hands as tears well up in her eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you hide this? It’s amazing!”

When you explain your insecurities and the cruel comments you’ve endured, Mitsuri’s expression crumples, and tears spill down her cheeks. “That’s so awful,” she says, her voice breaking. “How could anyone say something so mean? You’re not a demon! You’re the most wonderful person I’ve ever met!” Her sadness quickly shifts to determination as she grabs your hands, her grip surprisingly strong. “I’ll protect you from now on! I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again!”

• Behavior: Mitsuri becomes even more affectionate and protective, her yandere tendencies fueled by her overwhelming love for you. She constantly praises you, her words spilling out in a rush of emotion. “Your eyes are so unique,” she says one evening, her voice soft but insistent. “They’re like a treasure—something rare and precious. You’re rare and precious. I love everything about you!”

Her obsession with you drives her to confront anyone who has ever hurt you, though her approach is far less subtle than some of the other Hashira. If she knows someone who insulted you, she’ll march up to them and demand they apologize, her usually sweet demeanor replaced by a fierce protectiveness. “How dare you say something so cruel to them?” she’ll shout, tears in her eyes. “You don’t know how wonderful they are!”

Mitsuri also becomes more physically clingy, always wanting to hold your hand, hug you, or simply be near you. If you try to wear the eyepatch again, her reaction is immediate. She’ll gently but firmly remove it, holding it out of your reach as she pouts. “No, no, no,” she says, her voice filled with emotion. “You don’t need this. You’re perfect just the way you are! Please don’t hide from me.”

Over time, Mitsuri’s devotion becomes all-encompassing. She constantly looks for ways to make you happy, whether it’s cooking your favorite meals, showering you with compliments, or simply spending time with you. “I love you more than anything,” she says one night as she gazes into your eyes, her voice trembling with sincerity. “And I’ll spend the rest of my life proving it to you.”

Sanemi Shinazugawa (Wind Hashira)

Sanemi’s brash and aggressive exterior often hides a fiercely protective nature, especially when it comes to the one person he loves most. When he sees your uncovered eye, it stirs a maelstrom of emotions—admiration, fury at those who hurt you, and an intense need to shield you from further pain.

• Reaction: The moment you remove your eyepatch, Sanemi freezes. His sharp, stormy eyes lock onto yours, widening slightly in shock. For a moment, he says nothing, his jaw clenched as he processes what he’s seeing. Finally, he exhales sharply, his voice rough but quieter than usual. “What the hell…?”

He steps closer, his hand twitching as if he wants to reach out but doesn’t quite know how. “Why were you hiding this?” he demands, his tone gruff but not angry—more like he’s trying to mask the tenderness threatening to spill out. When you explain how people mocked you, calling you a demon, his expression darkens instantly. “Those bastards…” His voice is a low growl now, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. “Tell me who they are. I’ll make sure they regret ever opening their mouths.”

• Behavior: Sanemi’s yandere tendencies kick into overdrive after this revelation. His protectiveness becomes almost suffocating, as he refuses to let anyone else have the chance to hurt you. He starts accompanying you everywhere, even if it means abandoning his usual duties. “You’re not going anywhere without me,” he says firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. “I’m not letting those idiots get near you again.”

Though his words and actions might seem harsh, his love for you is deeply genuine. He’ll make it his mission to rebuild your self-esteem, even if he’s not always the most eloquent about it. “You’re an idiot if you think you’re not beautiful,” he says one day, his voice tinged with frustration. “Your eyes are… they’re incredible, okay? Anyone who says otherwise is blind or stupid—or both.” He looks away, his cheeks faintly flushed, but his sincerity is unmistakable.

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Sanemi’s reaction is immediate and intense. He’ll grab it out of your hand and toss it aside, his sharp gaze boring into yours. “Stop hiding,” he snaps, though there’s a softness in his voice that betrays his concern. “You don’t need that crap. Not with me.”

Over time, Sanemi becomes increasingly possessive, viewing your uniqueness as something only he is allowed to admire. If anyone so much as looks at you the wrong way, they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of his wrath. “You’re mine,” he says one night, his voice low and intense as he pulls you close. “No one else gets to make you feel like this. No one else even deserves to look at you.”

Tengen Uzui (Sound Hashira)

Tengen’s love for all things extravagant and unique means your heterochromia utterly captivates him. When he sees your uncovered eye, his yandere tendencies manifest in his overwhelming need to show you off, protect you, and ensure no one ever disrespects you again.

• Reaction: The moment you reveal your uncovered eye, Tengen’s reaction is as dramatic as you’d expect. His ruby eyes light up, and he claps his hands together, a broad grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, well! What’s this?!” he exclaims, leaning in close to examine your eye. “You’ve been hiding something so flamboyant from me? I’m almost offended!” His tone is playful, but there’s an undercurrent of genuine admiration in his voice.

As you explain your insecurities and the cruel comments you’ve endured, Tengen’s smile falters, replaced by a rare seriousness. “People called you a demon?” he asks, his voice low and dangerous. “What kind of tasteless idiots would insult someone as magnificent as you?” He crosses his arms, his expression darkening. “Point me in their direction. I’ll make sure they understand just how pathetic they are compared to you.”

• Behavior: Tengen becomes obsessed with showcasing your beauty to the world, but in a way that ensures everyone knows you belong to him. He’ll insist on dressing you in extravagant outfits and showering you with compliments. “You’re the flashiest person I’ve ever seen,” he declares one day, twirling you around to admire you from every angle. “No one else even comes close. They should be jealous!”

At the same time, his protectiveness intensifies. He won’t hesitate to confront—or eliminate—anyone who dares to insult you again. His flamboyant nature means he doesn’t bother hiding his actions; if someone mocks you, they’ll find themselves publicly humiliated in a way only Tengen can manage. “No one messes with my partner,” he says with a smirk, cracking his knuckles. “Not unless they want to face the consequences.”

If you ever try to wear the eyepatch again, Tengen’s reaction is swift and dramatic. He’ll snatch it away, holding it high out of your reach as he gives you a disapproving look. “Absolutely not,” he says firmly. “You’re too flashy to be covering yourself up like that. I won’t allow it.” He’ll then gently take your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “You don’t need to hide anything from me. You’re perfect exactly the way you are.”

Over time, Tengen’s obsession with you grows. He constantly showers you with affection, gifts, and attention, doing everything in his power to make you feel like the most important person in the world. “You’re mine,” he says one night as he wraps an arm around your shoulders, his tone possessive but filled with warmth. “And I’m going to make sure everyone else knows it, too.”

Obanai Iguro (Serpent Hashira)

Obanai is an intensely guarded and obsessive person, especially when it comes to someone he cherishes. His feelings for you are deeply rooted in devotion and a desire to protect you from everything—even yourself. When he sees your uncovered eye, his reaction is one of quiet intensity.

• Reaction: The moment you remove the eyepatch, Obanai freezes, his mismatched eyes widening slightly. Kaburamaru, his snake companion, shifts curiously on his shoulders as Obanai leans in closer to examine your uncovered eye. He doesn’t speak immediately, his silence stretching long enough to make you anxious. When you finally explain your insecurities and the bullying you’ve endured, Obanai’s expression hardens—not in judgment of you, but in barely contained anger toward those who hurt you.

“They called you a demon?” he asks, his voice low and laced with venom. His mismatched eyes gleam dangerously as Kaburamaru hisses in unison. “Those fools wouldn’t know true beauty if it stared them in the face. You’re nothing like a demon.”

• Behavior: Obanai’s yandere tendencies intensify after this revelation. He becomes even more possessive and protective, insisting on keeping a close eye on you at all times. He constantly reassures you, though his words are often tinged with a slightly obsessive undertone. “Your eyes are perfect,” he says one evening, his voice soft but firm. “Both of them. Don’t ever hide from me again. I won’t allow it.”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Obanai reacts with quiet but unyielding determination. He’ll gently take it from you, his fingers lingering on yours as he holds it tightly. “No,” he says simply, his voice leaving no room for argument. “You’re not putting this on again. Not when you’re with me.”

Obanai takes it upon himself to ensure no one ever mocks you again. His methods are often quiet but ruthless—those who insulted you in the past might find themselves mysteriously stalked, their lives suddenly plagued by misfortune. He doesn’t need to confront them directly; his silent presence and intimidating aura are enough to send a clear message.

Over time, Obanai’s obsession grows. He becomes increasingly possessive, viewing your uniqueness as something only he is allowed to appreciate. He often gazes into your eyes with an almost reverent intensity, his voice soft as he murmurs, “You’re mine. Every part of you. No one else deserves to even look at you.”

Gyomei Himejima (Stone Hashira)

Gyomei’s kind and compassionate nature makes him an incredibly supportive and nurturing partner. When he discovers your uncovered eye, his reaction is one of deep empathy and overwhelming love, tinged with an intense protectiveness.

• Reaction: When you finally gather the courage to remove your eyepatch, Gyomei doesn’t react immediately. His blind eyes, wet with perpetual tears, remain calm, but he instinctively reaches out to gently touch your face, his large hands surprisingly delicate. “Your voice is trembling,” he says softly, his tone filled with concern. “Are you afraid to show me?”

As you explain your insecurities and the bullying you’ve endured, Gyomei’s expression grows pained. “I see,” he murmurs, his voice low and sorrowful. “You’ve carried this burden for so long… how cruel of others to mock something so unique and beautiful.” His tears fall silently, his empathy for your pain evident in every word.

• Behavior: Gyomei’s yandere tendencies manifest in a protective, almost paternal way. He becomes utterly devoted to ensuring your happiness and safety, going to great lengths to shield you from harm. “You are precious to me,” he says one evening, his deep voice resonating with emotion. “Your eyes, your heart, your soul—everything about you is a gift. No one has the right to make you feel otherwise.”

If you try to wear the eyepatch again, Gyomei gently but firmly stops you, his large hand covering yours as he takes it away. “Please don’t hide yourself,” he says, his tone filled with quiet determination. “You are perfect as you are. You don’t need to conceal any part of yourself from me—or the world.”

Gyomei’s protectiveness can border on obsessive at times. Though his demeanor remains calm and composed, he keeps a mental list of those who have wronged you. If he ever encounters someone who mocked or hurt you, his imposing presence and quiet authority are enough to make them regret their actions. “Do not speak ill of them again,” he says, his voice a low rumble that leaves no room for argument.

Despite his intense protectiveness, Gyomei is always gentle with you. He constantly reassures you of your worth, his words filled with love and sincerity. “You are my light,” he says one evening as you sit together, his hands carefully cradling yours. “Your uniqueness is something to be celebrated, not hidden. I will spend every moment of my life proving that to you.”

Over time, Gyomei’s devotion becomes all-encompassing. He views it as his sacred duty to protect and cherish you, often meditating on ways to bring you peace and happiness. His love for you is unwavering, and he’ll do whatever it takes to ensure you never feel insecure again.

Muichiro Tokito (Mist Hashira)

Muichiro’s aloof demeanor often makes it difficult to discern his thoughts, but beneath his seemingly detached exterior lies a profound intensity when it comes to the person he loves. When he sees your uncovered eye, his reaction is quiet but deeply impactful.

• Reaction: When you finally remove your eyepatch, Muichiro’s teal eyes flicker with momentary surprise, though his expression remains calm. He tilts his head slightly, studying your face with a quiet intensity that makes your heart race. For a moment, he says nothing, his gaze fixed on your uncovered eye as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

“Your eye…” he murmurs, his soft voice trailing off as he leans in closer. “It’s… unique. Beautiful.” His tone is matter-of-fact, but there’s an unmistakable sincerity in his words. When you hesitantly explain why you’ve been hiding it—your insecurities, the cruel comments from others—Muichiro’s gaze hardens, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“They called you a demon?” he says quietly, his voice laced with a subtle edge. “That’s foolish. They’re the ones who are blind—not you.”

• Behavior: After this revelation, Muichiro’s yandere tendencies manifest in a quiet but relentless protectiveness. Though he doesn’t express his feelings outwardly as dramatically as others might, his actions speak volumes. He begins to watch you more closely, his presence constant and unwavering. “I’ll stay by your side,” he says simply one evening, his tone calm but resolute. “No one will hurt you again.”

Muichiro becomes deeply possessive, though in a subtle way. He insists on accompanying you wherever you go, his soft-spoken demeanor hiding the fierce determination burning within him. If anyone dares to look at you the wrong way or make an unkind comment, they’ll find themselves on the receiving end of his cold, piercing gaze—a silent warning that leaves no room for misinterpretation.

If you attempt to wear the eyepatch again, Muichiro’s reaction is gentle but firm. He’ll quietly take it from you, his fingers brushing against yours as he tucks it away. “You don’t need this,” he says softly, his gaze meeting yours. “Your eyes are perfect. You don’t have to hide them from me—or anyone.”

Despite his calm exterior, Muichiro is deeply affected by your pain. He often finds himself lost in thought, replaying your words in his mind and quietly seething at the cruelty you endured. Though he rarely shows anger openly, those who hurt you in the past might find themselves facing inexplicable accidents or misfortunes. Muichiro is not one to forgive easily, and his quiet vengeance is both calculated and absolute.

Over time, Muichiro becomes even more devoted to you, his love manifesting in quiet, tender gestures. He’ll often gaze at you when he thinks you’re not looking, his expression soft and contemplative. “Your eyes remind me of the sky,” he says one day, his voice barely above a whisper. “Endless… and full of wonder. I could look at them forever.”

Though his words are few, his actions speak volumes. Muichiro’s love for you is unwavering, and his protectiveness knows no bounds. “You’re mine,” he says one evening, his voice soft but filled with quiet intensity. “And I won’t let anyone make you feel less than what you are ever again.”

[tankgotstuckinthecircusgate]

big fan of characters who don't have a chance to die and have to live with the mistakes of their past & loss & grief

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[hayatheauthor]

The Anatomy of Punching a Character in the Face

Punching scenes are a staple of action sequences in many genres. Whether it’s an intense brawl, a quick defense, or an emotional outburst, a punch can carry a lot of weight both physically and narratively. As a writer, it’s essential to understand what really happens when a fist meets a face—from the immediate impact to the longer-lasting effects on both the person getting punched and the one throwing the punch.

This guide will help you craft authentic, detailed, and believable punch scenes by exploring different areas of the face, types of punches, and the aftermath of such an impact.

1. Target Areas of the Face and Their Vulnerabilities

A punch isn’t a one-size-fits-all situation. Depending on where the fist lands, the consequences will vary significantly. Different parts of the face have varying levels of vulnerability, and targeting these areas produces different effects, from knockouts to broken bones.

A. Jawline: The Knockout Zone

The jawline is a classic target in many fight scenes, especially when knockout punches are involved. This area is highly vulnerable because a hit here causes the head to snap to the side, leading to a sharp rotational movement of the brain inside the skull. This movement disrupts the brain’s communication and often results in a temporary loss of consciousness—what we commonly refer to as a "knockout."

Common Effects: Dislocation or fracture of the jaw, loss of consciousness, slurred speech, and severe pain.

Visual Aftermath: Swelling around the jawline, bruising, and possible misalignment of the jaw if broken.

B. Nose: Breaking and Bleeding

The nose is another vulnerable target, known for being easily broken. It’s not just a fragile bone structure, but it’s also connected to many blood vessels, meaning a direct punch to the nose often results in immediate bleeding. The nasal bone can fracture, causing difficulty in breathing, and in some cases, the nose may need surgical intervention to reset.

Common Effects: Intense pain, bleeding, difficulty breathing, potential for a broken nose.

Visual Aftermath: Blood running from the nostrils, swelling, and significant bruising around the nose and eyes.

C. Cheekbones (Zygomatic Bones): Bruising and Fractures

The cheekbones are one of the more solid structures in the face but are still susceptible to breaks, particularly from a heavy blow. Damage here can lead to not just bruising, but potentially severe injuries that can affect the entire facial structure.

Common Effects: Fractures of the zygomatic bone, swelling, bruising, and pain extending to the eye socket.

Visual Aftermath: Black eyes, noticeable swelling on one side of the face, and a sunken appearance if the bone is fractured.

D. Forehead: A Hard Target

The forehead is much harder than most parts of the face and is less vulnerable to severe damage. However, punches to the forehead can still cause pain, disorientation, and dazing of the recipient. While it’s less likely to result in a knockout, it’s effective in dazing an opponent, especially if the puncher’s goal is to create an opening for another strike.

Common Effects: Swelling, redness, and potential concussions if hit with enough force.

Visual Aftermath: Redness, minimal bruising, and a dazed expression.

E. Eyes: Black Eyes and Swelling

A punch to the eyes is particularly brutal because the area around the eyes is delicate, and the skin is thin. It’s not just about swelling but also potential damage to the orbital bones. The impact can cause "black eyes," characterized by intense bruising and swelling that may close the eye shut for days.

Common Effects: Swelling, black eyes, potential orbital bone fractures, temporary blurred vision.

Visual Aftermath: Discoloration that starts purple and turns yellowish-green as it heals, swollen shut eyes.

2. Types of Punches

Not all punches are created equal. The type of punch thrown can drastically change the outcome of the scene, both in terms of damage and realism. Understanding these different types of punches will allow you to convey more varied and dynamic fight sequences.

A. Jab: Speed and Precision

A jab is a quick, straight punch, usually thrown with the non-dominant hand. It’s not meant to be a knockout punch but more of a setup punch to create an opening or keep the opponent at a distance. Jabs are fast and can be disorienting, especially if they repeatedly land in quick succession.

Common Effects: Light bruising, potential cuts, and swelling in the area hit.

B. Cross: Power and Impact

The cross is a powerful, straight punch delivered with the dominant hand. It’s often aimed at vulnerable spots like the jaw or nose. Unlike a jab, the cross is meant to deliver a significant amount of force, and when landed properly, it can cause serious damage.

Common Effects: Knockouts, broken bones, severe swelling, and bruising.

C. Hook: Lateral Devastation

A hook is a wide, circular punch that targets the side of the head, particularly the jaw or temple. It’s one of the most powerful punches and is often used with the intent of knocking the opponent out.

Common Effects: Knockouts, severe disorientation, potential for concussions, and jaw dislocations.

D. Uppercut: Lifting from Below

The uppercut is thrown upward, usually aimed at the chin. It’s a devastating punch that can lift the opponent’s head and jolt their brain, leading to knockouts. Uppercuts are especially dangerous when they land cleanly on the jaw or chin.

Common Effects: Knockouts, broken teeth, jaw fractures, and disorientation.

E. Haymaker: Risky but Powerful

A haymaker is a wild, swinging punch delivered with as much force as possible. It’s often thrown with reckless abandon and is easy to dodge, but if it connects, it can deal significant damage. Because of its wide arc, it leaves the puncher exposed to counterattacks.

Common Effects: Knockouts, severe bruising, and possible fractures if landed correctly.

3. Punch Wounds: What They Look Like and Healing

Punches to the face leave lasting marks, some immediately visible and others taking days to fully form. Understanding the aftermath of a punch will help you describe the physical toll on your characters more accurately.

A. Immediate Effects

Swelling and Redness: Swelling can begin almost instantly, particularly in areas with soft tissue like the eyes and lips.

Bruising: Bruises start off as red, then turn purple, blue, and eventually fade into yellow or green as they heal.

Bleeding: Punches to the nose, lips, and even cheeks can result in bleeding, either from the skin breaking or from internal damage like a broken nose.

B. Long-Term Injuries

Black Eyes: Punches near the eyes can lead to bruising that darkens the skin around the eyes, giving it a purplish hue.

Fractures: Broken bones, such as the nose or jaw, may require weeks to heal, and in severe cases, surgery may be necessary.

Scarring: If the skin is cut open, there’s the potential for scarring, especially if stitches are required.

C. Healing Process

Bruises: These typically take about a week to two weeks to heal, with the colors shifting as the body absorbs the blood trapped under the skin.

Fractures: Healing from fractures can take several weeks to months, depending on the severity.

Swelling: Swelling can last anywhere from a few hours to a few days, with cold compresses helping to reduce it.

4. How the Punch Affects the Puncher

While we often focus on the person receiving the punch, it’s important to remember that throwing a punch can also take a toll on the puncher.

A. Physical Strain

Knuckle Damage: Hitting a hard surface, like a jaw or forehead, can cause damage to the puncher’s knuckles. This is known as a “boxer’s fracture,” where the small bones in the hand break due to impact.

Wrist Injury: If the punch is not aligned correctly, the wrist can absorb too much force, leading to sprains or breaks.

Fatigue: After multiple punches, especially in a drawn-out fight, the puncher can become fatigued, leading to less powerful or accurate strikes.

B. Emotional and Psychological Effects

Adrenaline Rush: For inexperienced fighters, throwing a punch can lead to an adrenaline surge, which can cause tunnel vision or reckless behavior.

Moral Conflict: If the puncher is not used to violence, they may experience guilt or shock at the damage they’ve caused, especially if the recipient is significantly injured.

5. Psychological Impact of Receiving a Punch

A punch to the face doesn’t only cause physical damage. For the recipient, it can have a lasting psychological effect, especially if the punch was unexpected or in a vulnerable situation. Writing this aspect adds depth to your characters and shows that a punch is more than just physical pain.

A. Shock and Fear

Fight or Flight Response: Getting punched can immediately trigger a fight-or-flight reaction. Some characters might freeze or retreat, especially if they’ve never been in a physical altercation before.

Loss of Confidence: For characters not used to violence, being punched in the face may cause a significant loss of confidence. They may question their own strength, bravery, or ability to defend themselves.

Increased Aggression: Alternatively, the punch may trigger a rage-fueled response, pushing the character into aggressive, reckless action.

B. Embarrassment and Humiliation

Public Fights: If the punch occurs in front of others, there’s often an added layer of humiliation. Characters might feel embarrassed, even if they weren’t at fault.

Internalizing the Event: The recipient of the punch may carry the emotional impact for a long time, replaying the event in their mind, feeling shame, or seeking revenge.

C. Post-Traumatic Stress

Lingering Anxiety: In extreme cases, receiving a punch can cause anxiety or even post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Characters who’ve experienced significant trauma might relive the event through flashbacks or become hyper-vigilant, avoiding confrontations in the future.

Fear of Future Confrontations: A character who’s been severely beaten might actively avoid scenarios where they could be hit again, making them overly cautious or paranoid.

6. Writing Tips: Making It Believable

Writing a punch scene isn't just about describing the physical action. To make the moment believable and impactful, you’ll need to consider various elements—from pacing and sensory details to character psychology and aftermath. Here’s how to make your punch scenes authentic:

A. Build Tension Before the Punch

Foreshadowing Conflict: Build up the tension before the punch is thrown. Is the character agitated? Are there verbal warnings or body language that suggests things are escalating? By slowly ramping up the tension, the eventual punch feels earned and inevitable.

Use Dialogue: A heated exchange of words can make a punch more meaningful. If the punch follows a particularly cutting remark or threat, it adds weight to the action.

B. Focus on Sensory Details

Physical Sensations: Describe not just the punch itself, but how it feels. Does the skin split? Does the puncher’s knuckles scrape against teeth or bone? Is there an immediate sting or delayed throbbing pain?

Sound: The sound of a punch can enhance the realism of the scene. A dull thud as a fist connects with soft tissue, the crack of a bone breaking, or the splatter of blood hitting the floor are all effective auditory details.

C. Show Immediate and Delayed Reactions

Physical Reaction: After being punched, characters rarely shake it off immediately. Staggering, falling, or momentarily losing their vision are realistic reactions. You can also show how the puncher feels—did their hand hurt from the impact?

Emotional Fallout: Punches are often emotional events. Show how your characters feel right after—whether it’s satisfaction, regret, or shock. The emotional weight of a punch can be just as impactful as the physical consequences.

D. Consider the Aftermath

Healing Process: Don’t forget that punches have a lasting impact. A black eye will take days to heal, and a broken nose could require medical attention. Characters might have to deal with soreness, swelling, or difficulty talking and eating.

Ongoing Tension: A punch can dramatically shift relationships. A once-trusting friendship could be shattered, or a bitter rivalry could be born. Make sure to carry the emotional weight of the punch forward in your story.

7. Common Misconceptions About Punching

Many writers fall into the trap of perpetuating unrealistic portrayals of punches. These misconceptions can make your scenes feel less authentic or overly cinematic. Here’s how to avoid them.

A. The Myth of the "Clean Knockout"

Reality: A punch to the jaw might cause a knockout, but it’s not always instant. In real life, knockouts are often messy and unpredictable. The recipient might stagger or struggle before finally losing consciousness, and they could wake up with serious concussions, memory loss, or nausea.

B. Punches Always Cause Immediate Bleeding

Reality: While a punch to the nose often causes immediate bleeding, not all punches result in visible blood. Even when skin splits, it might take a moment for blood to pool and become visible. Bruising and swelling often take hours to fully appear.

C. Punching Doesn’t Always Lead to a Win

Reality: Throwing a punch doesn’t guarantee victory. The puncher could hurt themselves, miss entirely, or end up escalating a fight they weren’t prepared for. Additionally, punches to the forehead or temple might not have the knockout effect portrayed in movies—they could just make the puncher’s hand hurt more than the opponent.

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

Are you an author looking for writing tips and tricks to better your manuscript? Or do you want to learn about how to get a literary agent, get published and properly market your book? Consider checking out the rest of Quillology with Haya Sameer; a blog dedicated to writing and publishing tips for authors! While you’re at it, don’t forget to head over to my TikTok and Instagram profiles @hayatheauthor to learn more about my WIP and writing journey! 

[marvelouslizzie]

One More Night

Summary: You and Bucky Barnes are fuck buddies for a while. The problem is you have feelings for him but you don't think he reciprocates and it just makes it impossible to continue your relationship. Little did you know how much he wants you and how hard he's trying to keep it casual.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, friends with benefits, idiots in love, unspoken feelings, miscommunication/misunderstandings, angst with happy ending, unprotected sex, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.4K

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

It is one of those days when you feel absolutely worthless. It wasn’t something you felt often before but now…. It is starting to feel like your new normal. You know it’s your fault, and it just makes you feel even worse. You let this happen when you let Bucky Barnes walk into your life without any consequences. Now he just has a free pass to destroy you anytime he wants. 

It was supposed to be just fun. Something casual because you know he has no intention of settling down. Especially not with you. Not that he said any of those words but he doesn’t need to. You just know it. 

He’s one of the popular guys in your college. It’s not surprising considering how handsome and charming he is. He’s also talented and hard-working. He takes school seriously unlike a lot of people around you. So when it comes to his free time, he just wants to have some fun, no strings attached and you were fine with this arrangement. You wanted to be close to him and this is the price: Your heart breaks every time. 

You don’t blame him but you definitely blame yourself because you put yourself in this position. If you weren’t so pathetic, you could simply say no and this regularly hooking-up arrangement of yours would have ended. Yet you never said no and he never stopped coming back to you. Probably because it’s convenient, you can’t come up with any other reason. Like who says no to an easy fuck, right? That is what you are. An easy fuck. Still, it’s breaking your heart every time he leaves your bed. You say to yourself “This is gonna be the last time” but when the next text or call comes, you fold once again. 

That’s how you ended up here. Your face is buried in the pillow while Bucky is pounding you from behind. It feels good. Actually, it feels pretty amazing. It always does but this time your emotions are overshadowing the physical pleasure. Tears are streaming down your face and you are grateful that he can’t see it thanks to this position. Then a sob escapes your mouth and you feel betrayed by your own body.

“Does it feel that good, doll?” He sounds smug but you can’t answer him. Not while trying to hold the rest of your sobs back. That seems to worry him. He suddenly stops and when he takes a closer look sees that your eyes are filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey! Are you alright?” He sounds genuinely worried. You try to say something but instead, more sobs come out. “What happened? Did I hurt you?”

He didn’t physically hurt you, yet you are hurt. You don’t know how to explain this to him. You feel embarrassed and angry at the same time. You pride yourself on how good you are at hiding your emotions. You don’t want anyone to see you cry. You don’t want anyone’s pity. Yet here you are. Eyes filled with tears, sobs escaping your lips and your heart is shattered.

“Please talk to me!” His desperate tone snaps you out of your thoughts. You try to turn on your back and quickly dry your tears. 

“It’s fine. Sorry for killing the mood. I just…” You hesitate for a second but no, you won’t back down this time. “I just can’t do this anymore.”

“That’s fine.” That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “You know it’s okay right?” His worry is so apparent in his voice. “You can always tell me to stop.” What is he talking about? “If you don’t like something or you don’t feel like it anymore… Just tell me next time and I will just stop.”

“There’s no next time Bucky.” The words come out of your mouth before you can process them. You didn’t intend to be so harsh but it came out so definite.

“What?”

“I’m telling you that I can’t do this…” You wave your hand between you two. “...anymore. I’m done. We are done.” 

“What…” He sounds shocked and hurt at the same time. You try to avoid looking at his eyes while he struggles to find the right words. “What are you talking about? Did I do something?”

“You didn’t do anything. It’s all my fault.” You have no intention to blame him. You know it’s on you. He never promised you anything.

“I don’t understand.” He sounds so lost. “Just help me understand what happened, okay? I thought everything was okay.”

“They were, for you. It was never okay for me.” 

You watch how his expression changes into something that breaks your heart even more. You never thought he would care this much but… apparently, he does. Maybe he’s not used to being rejected. Especially in the middle of sex.

“I… I don’t know what to say.” He looks at your face and then around. “I thought this is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You repeat his words without missing a beat. “I never wanted this. This is what you wanted and that’s why we kept doing it. I was just…” You hesitate for a second because you hate to admit it. “weak.”

“Weak? You are never weak.”

“Oh, I am weak. This is why I kept saying ‘one more night’ to myself whenever you called or texted me. I’m weak as fuck and it makes me angry, okay? I shouldn’t be like this.”

“Doll, what are you talking about?”

His confusion confuses you as well. Can’t he see how much he’s hurting you? Is he really that blind or maybe he just doesn’t care.

“This arrangement might be working for you but it’s not working for me, okay?”

“But… this is what you wanted.”

“I never wanted this.”

“You said we can’t get emotions involved!” He sounds somewhat angry this time.

“Because you didn’t want emotions involved!” Your answer comes instantly.

“When did I ever say that?”

His question makes you stop for a second. He never said that but did he really have to? You know how popular he is. Everybody loves him. He has the prettiest face you have ever seen. You desperately wanted to be with him. You didn’t care how.

“Just look at you.”

“What does that even mean?” Is he doing this on purpose? He surely knows everybody wants him. Why does he have to hear it from you?

“It means you didn’t have to say it.”

“How does… I really don’t understand you.” His confusion is written all over his face. The way he hesitates makes you realize you have to say it out loud to make him understand.

“You are handsome. You are talented. Everybody loves you.” He keeps looking at you with confusion. He really doesn’t get it, does he? “You can have anybody you want!”

“Apparently not.” Why does he sound broken?

“Oh, come on!” Your reaction is instant. “You know you can. Don’t act humble. I’m just easier.”

“Easier?” You don’t miss the disbelief in his voice. “Easier?” This time it comes out more angry. “You were never easy!”

“You know what I mean. An easy fu-”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” The tone of his voice startles you. You never heard him talk like this. “I never wanted just an easy fuck. Especially not with you but that was all I could get!” Your head flinches back slightly. What is he talking about? 

“Bucky…” He doesn’t let you continue. 

“I don’t know what has gotten into you because this… what you called it? Arrangement, yes, was never my idea! You were the one who didn’t want to involve emotions. You were the one who said anything more than this would affect our friendship. I never said that!”

“I was trying to protect myself!”

“You never showed any interest to me!”

You blink a couple of times, trying to process that information. What did he think you were doing with him?

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You never showed any interest in staying over. You never wanted to do anything outside the bedroom or wherever the fuck we were fucking. Whenever I tried to take you on a date, you came up with a lazy excuse.”

“Uh… what?”

“I tried so many times, sweetheart. You never let me in. You were only interested in sex and now you are blaming me for it. No. Be honest. If you wanna end this thing, it’s fine. You don’t need any lies. I get it. I knew it would happen eventually.” He’s speaking so fast, you can’t even find any opportunity to interrupt him until he stops.

“You tried to take me on dates?” He squishes his eyebrows together like he can’t believe you are focusing on that part.

“Many times. I suggested study dates, tried to take you on that concert, then that one comedy club thing…”

“I thought…” You don’t know how to finish that sentence.

“You thought what? You knew what I was trying to do and you weren’t interested, so I finally gave up.”

“No, no, no.” You jump from your awkward position on the bed. “I never realized.”

“What did you think I was doing?”

“I thought… they were activities with other… people. Not dates.”

“Why would I take other people to a concert with us?” Oh, he really doesn’t get it.

“I thought… you had plans with your friends and… you were… inviting me as well. Just to show… we are nothing more than friends.”

“Oh, dear god.” He covers his face with both of his hands. “Seriously? Why would you even think that?”

You mimic him and cover your face with embarrassment. You don’t want to say it. Especially not to him.

“I… just never thought…” You don’t know how to say it without making him realize how low you think of yourself. “You were interested in anything more than sex.”

“I’m handsome. I’m popular. Everybody loves me. Is that why?” He repeats your words with that god-awful mocking tone and it hurts to hear. What you don’t realize is that he’s making fun of himself.

“Yeah.” Your response comes out so weakly but he hears it.

He starts to laugh all of a sudden and all you can do is give him a confused look. 

“God you are so blind.”

“Hey!” You instantly respond.

“Have you ever looked in the mirror?” You make a face but it just spurs him. “You are gorgeous and smart. I always thought you were way out of my league.”

“What?”

“You heard me. You are out of my league.”

“Come on… That’s-” He interrupts you again.

“Please.” The way he says it makes you stop talking. “I have been struggling to come to terms with you not liking me. I just told myself, you have done everything you can. You tried so many times. It’s a miracle she still wants to fuck you. I convinced myself this was all I could get so I tried to make peace with it. Now you are telling me you don’t want to keep doing this. What did you think I was gonna think?”

He just baffles you with every word coming out of his mouth. You look at him, not knowing what to say or what to think, even.

“And you thought you were just an easy fuck? Jesus, doll. Do you have any idea how many times I prepared myself for rejection? Every time I called you, I thought you weren’t gonna pick up. Every time I texted you, I prepared myself to hear ‘no’, and every time it did not come, I was the happiest man on earth because I had one more night with you!”

You don’t know when it started but you start to feel tears filling your eyes.

“Please don’t cry anymore.” He moves his hand on your face and catches a tear before it drops on your cheeks.

“I…” It’s so hard to speak normally. “I never thought…”

“What?” This time it comes out softer. You know he wants to hear it because he needs that assurance as much as you do.

“You would actually like me.”

“Like you? Oh, doll… I don’t like you. The word like doesn’t even cover it.” The smile he gives you ignites something inside you. Something you tried to push down for a long time. Suddenly you push him back a little bit and his mouth falls open but he doesn’t get the chance to say anything. You just sit on his lap, taking him back inside you and it slips right back in so easily. It makes you want to moan out loud but instead, you wrap your legs around his torso and trap him there.

“Oh fuck…” His moan is like music to your ears. It’s so raw and unfiltered.

You don’t say anything. Your hand wraps around his neck before you start to move. His hand quickly finds your breasts, squeezing them a lot harder than he ever did before. 

“You are so fucking gorgeous.” He says right next to your ear. You feel his breath on your neck and his lips attach to your neck as if he knows what you want. He starts gently. First, he sucks the skin and makes you whimper. Then his teeth graze the sore skin. When he finally bites the same spot, you realize he was just giving you some time to protest but it never came. His bite pulls a groan out of you and the way it hurts falters your rhythm.

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He licks the same spot, trying to soothe the pain. “There’s a part of me…” He tries to find the right word. “...that wants to mark you. Show the world that you’re mine.” Fuck, is he serious? He stops for another second to ask “Are you mine, doll?” He sounds so nervous yet possessive.

“I am.” You move a little back and look into his eyes while saying that. “I have been for a long time.”

He grabs your cheeks with both of his hands and pulls you in for a long, passionate kiss. It's all tongue and teeth, making you burn with passion.

“I’m yours, too. I think I always have been.” 

It’s your turn to show how much those words mean to you. You start to move again on his lap. This time it’s faster than before and it just makes both of you moan loudly. He wraps his arms around your body while he supports your movement by grabbing your ass and moving you a bit faster than before.

“Shit!” It feels good but it also restricts your range of movement and he realizes it quickly.

“Sorry. I just want to feel you all over me.”

You want to say it’s alright but he’s a lot faster than you. Suddenly you find yourself on your back. Bucky’s still between your legs. He never left inside you while changing the position. 

“Wrap your legs around me, baby.” 

God, the way he says it sounds like a soft order. You can practically feel the desire running through your veins. Your legs are automatically wrapped around his ass while he starts to move but he doesn’t put any distance between you. His whole body is pressed against yours while he’s kissing and licking all over your neck.

Sex with Bucky never felt like this. It was always good. You don’t remember any occasion you didn’t enjoy it or reach orgasm. Yet this feels like real intimacy. The way he’s making you feel is indescribable. You can feel everything he said before while he moves inside you. How much he wants you, how much he adores you… The way he clings to you fills you with love. All of it enhances the physical pleasure. Loud moans escape your lips.

“So… All this time…” Bucky starts to talk. “You thought I was here because this is easy.”

Ah, fuck. He isn’t gonna let that go, is he? You should’ve known that. You roll your eyes in response but he doesn’t see it. His head is still buried in the crook of your neck.

“All this time… I was where I wanted to be.” Your annoyance quickly fades away as he keeps talking. “Underneath your body.”

“You weren’t always underneath me.” You answer him with a playful tone.

“As long as I’m inside you, the position doesn’t matter.”

“So…” You try to ask as quickly as possible before your sudden courage disappears. “You haven’t been sleeping around with anyone else.”

He raises his head just to look into your eyes. 

“All this time, you thought I was fucking other people?”

“I mean…” You were just friends with benefits. What else you were supposed to assume?

“Were you?”

“Was I what?”

“Fucking other people?” His question is a lot more blunt than yours.

“I asked first!” You sound so defensive all of a sudden.

“I can’t live without touching you, smelling you, feeling you… I have been craving you non-stop, only stopping myself from calling you every day, just so I wouldn’t scare you away and you are asking me if I have been fucking other people. Jesus Christ, doll. How blind are you?”

You are questioning the same thing yourself, to be honest. How blind were you? While trying to surpass your feelings, you were overlooking his, as well. It’s just unbelievable.

“Doll?” You didn’t realize you were lost in thoughts. “It’s fine if you have been.” It doesn’t sound fine at all. It sounds like he’s trying to rationalize it so it would hurt less. “I’m not saying I won’t be jealous but it’s not like we were actually together.”

You start to laugh and he gives you a strange look.

“You are such an idiot and you call me blind.”

“What?”

“I only ever wanted you, you moron.” 

His smile is so big and bright, it’s worth everything you two went through. His happiness is practically radiating. Suddenly, his lips are on yours, kissing you like a madman.

“You’re only mine.” He starts to move inside you again and you can feel how close you are to coming.

“Only yours.” Your words make him groan loudly. 

“Fuck that mouth of yours. You’re gonna make me come before you.”

“You can do that later.” You tease him while moving your hips to meet him.

“Is that a promise?”

“It can be. Only if you fuck me just a little harder so I can finally come!”

That makes him move away from you. He stands up and without losing any time, pulls you on the edge of the bed. You know what’s coming and it makes you smile like a fool. He positions himself between your legs while pushing your knees on your chest. In a couple of seconds, he’s back inside you but the position feels so much better this time. A loud moan leaves your lips every time he hits that sweet spot inside you.

“Harder, huh?”

“Yeah. Just like that.” It’s so hard to not roll your eyes with the pleasure he’s giving you. It’s familiar yet it feels so different this time.

“My girl wants it rough. Why didn’t you just say so?” He sounds cocky there’s also a hint of eagerness in his voice. You can tell he’s close.

“Do I have to tell you everything?” 

“From now on, yes. You have to tell me everything.” That authoritative tone pushes you over the edge. “Every fucking thing you feel, okay? Every fucking thing you want. I wanna know everything!”

“Yes!” You practically scream. You don’t know if you are answering him or just screaming because of the way he makes you feel. Your legs are shaking violently while your whole body tightens up. “Fuck yes. Please, please, please, don’t stop!” Your eyes are closed while you are riding your high.

That makes him groan so loudly. Even though you can’t directly look at his face anymore, you just know he’s about to come. He starts to pound on you so forcefully, it just unlocks another level of orgasm for you. Both of your moans fill the room and he keeps going until he empties himself inside you. After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of you and lays right next to you.

“Fuck, that was…” The struggles to find the right word.

“On another level?” You offer to end the sentence for him. That’s exactly how you feel.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t miss a beat. “We should’ve talked to each other before.”

“We were busy doing other stuff.” You smile and he smiles back, knowing exactly what you mean.

“I guess we did everything other than talking things through, huh?”

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[brokenmenswhore]

I need more stuff with poly!maraudersxreader spicy stuff🤭

i am but your humble servant 🙇‍♀️

mean | poly!marauders

pairing: poly!marauders x fem!reader (james, remus, & sirius)

summary: the boys get jealous seeing you with a study partner, and you reap the consequences when you tell sirius he was being ‘mean’

warnings: smut (MDNI 18+), rough sex, use of the word daddy twice

a/n: is my sirius favoritism showing too much or no

────── ☾ ──────

“I don’t think I’ll ever actually understand this class,” you said, the library study session beginning to take its toll.

“You’re getting it!” Evan encouraged, “we just need to work on it a little bit more.”

“I appreciate your faith in me, but I think after four hours, I either get it or I don’t,” you replied.

“I don’t mind the time,” Evan said, “especially when I get to spend it with you.”

Your three boyfriends could hear every single word exchanged between the two of you, being that they were seated only two tables away, and the second they heard Evan’s statement, Sirius jolted upwards from his chair.

“Sit down,” Remus instructed, “what are you gonna do? Kill him in the middle of our entire year?”

“Yeah, Remus, I just might,” Sirius responded, but still sat back down, eyes never leaving the two of you.

“You have to trust her, Sirius,” James scolded.

“It’s not her I don’t trust,” Sirius said, nostrils flaring in a rage.

Evan was sitting much closer to you than the boys were comfortable with, but they had to trust that you would shut him down if he overstepped.

“Yeah, this has at least been fun!” you told Evan, “but I think I’m a lost cause. This library is beginning to feel like an asylum.”

Evan shrugged, “I mean, we could change the scenery if that’s the problem. There’s usually not anyone in the fifth year potions classroom after the midday class. It would be quiet, and we could be alone and really focus.”

Evan shifted his chair even closer to you, placing an arm around the back of your chair, and leaning closer to you.

“That’s it, I’m gonna kill him,” Sirius said, standing up and reaching your table before Remus or James could keep him at bay.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Sirius spat, hands on the table as he leaned in, standing across from you.

“Studying?” you replied as Evan backed off.

“Studying,” he mocked in a high tone, “tell him he better get the fuck away from you if he wants to continue breathing.”

“I’m right here, Black, if you have a problem, say it straight to me,” Evan retorted, standing up to meet Sirius’s eye level.

“Ok, Rosier,” Sirius cleared his throat, “I have a problem with you attempting to feel up my girlfriend and then get her alone. I also have a problem with the lack of bruising on your face.”

“Sirius!” you and Remus scolded in unison, the other two boys now next to Sirius, ready to pull him back if he decided to lunge.

“I didn’t do a single thing,” Evan protested, “but if you’re so insecure that you think studying means she’ll cheat on you, maybe she never really liked you in the first place. She could do better anyway.”

Sirius went to jump over the table, but Remus and James held onto one arm each, holding him back as Evan laughed.

“This is not worth it,” Evan told you, “I’ll see you around.”

“Evan, I’m sorry-“ you tried to say as he walked away, your attention turning to Sirius. You were angry with him for the way he was acting, but his fury far outweighed yours.

Remus and James dropped their grip on Sirius when he calmed down. Sirius glared daggers into you. “Just studying, eh?”

“We were just studying until you tried to attack him,” you retorted.

“Go to the dorm room now before I decide to make you feel sorry right here. We’ll meet you up there.”

“But I still-“

“Now.”

The rage in Sirius’ voice was not something to take lightly. When he was mad, making him angrier often ended badly. You retreated to the dorms, seated cross-legged on your bed with a textbook open as you waited for your boyfriends to arrive.

The door to the dorms swung open so hard that the door slammed open against the wall. All three of your partners entered the room, Sirius stomping straight over to you and wrapping a hand around your throat.

“Had a fun day toying with other boys, huh?” he asked.

“Sirius, please, I really was just trying to study,” you pleaded, eyes finding Remus and James and searching for help, “you guys should know that I would never do that to you.”

“I know, baby,” Sirius’ voice weakened, his anger breaking at your pleas, “I’m just mad someone else tried to take what’s mine.”

“I think he was trying to make us jealous, too,” Remus added, “and it worked.”

“Is that what the big issue is?” you asked for clarification, “you’re all jealous?”

“He got really close to you,” James responded, the candor in his voice hurting your heart.

“I’m yours,” you said, grabbing the wrist around your throat, “I’m all of yours, and yours only, you know that.”

“We know,” Sirius said, “I’m just so mad. I can’t calm down.”

“You need to release the energy, Sirius,” James said, “you’re never gonna get past this if you don’t.”

Sirius looked into your eyes, and you gave him a slight nod, signaling to him that he could use you to release the energy. He had a lot of pent up rage from the earlier incident that he needed to let out. He needed to remind you, and himself, that you were his.

Sirius crashed his lips onto yours, a hand still on your throat as he pushed you back against the headboard.

Remus threw the textbook in front of you onto the floor, pulling your legs from their position until they were out in front of you. He kissed up your thighs until he was under your skirt, kissing on top your underwear as you let out a small moan into Sirius’s mouth.

Remus moved your underwear to the side, immediately diving in between your folds with his tongue, causing you to gasp. Sirius pulled away from your mouth, allowing him to hear the noises you made. You whined as Remus shoved his tongue into your soaking wet hole, the intrusion catching you off guard.

“Shit, Remmy,” you whimpered.

“Gotta remind you who you belong to, dove,” James spoke, taking a seat on the bed next to you, “you remember?”

“I’m y-yours, shit, James, all yours,” you whined as Remus continued to fuck you with his tongue, your hand taking its place on his head, fingers entwined in his hair, holding him in place.

“No fair,” Sirius pouted, “why do you get to hear her moan your name when I’m the one who got mad in the first place?”

“Y-ou were mean,” you explained, breathing heavy, making talking difficult as ever, trying to give Sirius the reason you weren’t focusing your attention to him, despite your better judgement.

Remus heard you and immediately stopped his assault on your core. You tried to push his head back down in desperation, but he took your hands off of his head, pinning them to your sides.

“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Sirius questioned, tone low and dark.

“Nothing,” you answered, hoping they would let it go but knowing better.

“I was mean, huh? I don’t deserve to hear you moan my name then, is that it? You think you’re so big and powerful, punishing me because I was mean?” Sirius was growing angrier and angrier, his rage overtaking him again.

“I- I’m sorry,” you tried to backtrack.

“No, no, it’s too late for that now. If you think I don’t deserve to hear you, then I won’t do anything that constitutes a noise. You don’t want me, then so be it.”

“No, please, I do, I want you, please-“

“Tell it to James,” Sirius cut you off. He was mad at you for talking back to him, and mad about earlier, but he was strictly doing this to punish you. He knew you loved how he fucked you when he was mad, and he was threatening to deny you what you wanted.

“Jamesie, please, tell him that I w-“

“Uh uh,” James tutted, “you’re with me now, not Sirius. You don’t get to have him now.”

You pouted, tears threatening to spill as you looked up at James. He leaned over you, kissing your forehead before your lips, distracting you with his mouth before a hand lifted up your skirt and traveled beneath the waistband of your underwear, finding its home on your pearl.

James began to rub in circles, eliciting a moan in the kiss.

“Remus, I think you can go back now,” James spoke.

Remus kept your hands pinned at your sides but shifted downward, tongue reentering you as James rubbed you off, the feeling of two different men on your core driving you insane.

Sirius slumped down on a chair a few feet away, lighting a cigarette as he watched Remus and James overstimulate you as they held you down.

“Jamie, please,” you moaned.

“Please what, dove?” James asked, beginning to touch any part of your core he could, the pleasure becoming too much to handle.

“Please let me come,” you begged.

James looked at Remus, who made eye contact with him, but never left you alone. He shoved his tongue in and out of you, curling it upwards once inside, eyes focused on James as he waited for any signal to stop.

James, however, was always the nicest to you in the bedroom. Though he knew Sirius and Remus would usually stop now, he was making the call, and he hated denying you your pleasure, even if you were being punished.

He leaned in and kissed you, his touch quickening and hardening as Remus continued to taste as much of you as he could, causing your climax to hit you without warning. You squealed and moaned into James’s mouth, legs shaking as Remus licked up any remnants of your high before pulling away from you and standing up.

You attempted to catch your breath as Sirius took one last drag of his cigarette, extinguishing the flame and walking over to you, your cheeks flushed and chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to calm down.

“See, you didn’t need me, did you?” Sirius taunted.

“I-“

“Still don’t want me?”

You furiously shook your head no. “No, nonono, I want you, please, I need you,” you begged.

“Even though I’m so fucking mean?” he spat, intentionally working himself up to an angry place again.

“Yes, daddy, please,” you replied, using the name for him that you knew he couldn’t resist.

Sirius growled, tugging on his jeans and crawling over you, lightly kissing your neck before meeting your gaze.

“Beg for me,” he demanded.

Your heart was beating so hard it made your chest sore. “Please, daddy, I want you.”

“I think he’s earned hearing his name, sweetheart,” Remus spoke from beside you.

“Please, I need you so bad, Siri, I-“

The second you spoke his name, Sirius pushed your skirt up to your waist and your underwear to the side, inserting his entire length into you in one quick motion, a move he loved to use when he was punishing you for something. Though he had been inside of you plenty of times, he was too large to simply just start fucking you without a warm up, unless, that is, he was purposefully being mean.

You let out a high pitched moan at the intrusion, always forgetting just how deep his cock hits within you.

He then pulled almost his entire length out of you before slamming it back in, your body jolting upwards at the feeling of his hips snapping against yours. He started to fuck you, fast and hard, leaving no time for you to adjust to him or his size.

“Siri, fuck,” you moaned.

“That’s it,” he breathed, “you’re all mine. You fucking belong to me.”

All three boys were possessive of you, but knew you ‘belonged’ to all three of them, not just one. However, when Sirius was mad, the other boys didn’t matter. They knew he needed to feel like you were his and only his. All the boys needed that one-on-one intimacy at times, but Sirius craved it all the time, and sometimes Remus suspected that he really did wish you were all his.

“It’s too much, can’t- I c-“ you started to plead, but Sirius didn’t care, continuing his ruthless pace that nearly had your head slamming upwards into the headboard with each thrust.

“You can, and you will,” Sirius spoke, “you’re all fucking mine. I don’t even want anyone else near you. You’re gonna take it like a good girl so that everyone can hear who you belong to, understood?”

You nodded, taking a moment to process that you had to speak. “Yes, Siri.”

“Good girl,” he said, one of his hands grabbing your throat as he snapped his hips at an almost violent pace.

“Siri, please, I’m gonna c-“

“You know you’re supposed to wait until he comes,” Remus reminded you, “or else it just isn’t fair.”

“B- but- I-“

“No buts,” Remus said, running a thumb over your cheek to collect the tears that were now falling, “you wait until Siri is ready, and then you come with him. He deserves at least that much.”

Your walls were clenching around his cock, and you fought desperately not to come. You knew you were supposed to wait and come in unison with whoever was fucking you, but you were overstimulated, and Sirius’s possessiveness was hot.

“That’s right, baby, you gotta wait,” Sirius cooed, “my girl only comes when I say she can. You’re my girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, Siri, I’m yours,” you responded, your hands grabbing desperately at his shoulders to steady yourself, “all yours.”

Sirius ran a hand over your body, scanning every inch of you as he fucked you. “All mine,” he whispered, almost more to himself than to you.

Sirius’s thrusts began to become erratic and sloppy, his high approaching as his clock twitched inside of you.

“You gonna come with me, love?” Sirius asked, and you whined in response, signaling that you were ready.

Sirius tightened his grip around your throat. “Come for me,” he commanded, “for me and only me.”

Your walls clenched around Sirius one last time as you came around him, one final “Sirius!” leaving your lips as you did.

The feeling of you coming around him caused Sirius to reach his high, his final few thrusts sharp and deep inside of you.

He took a moment to collect himself and catch his breath before pulling out of you.

“You remember who you belong to now?” James asked, sweetly repositioning your skirt over you to allow you modesty as you calmed down.

“Mhm,” you began to feel tired, “I’m all of yours.”

[120189hearted]

#2 Astrology Observations.

"If you live for people's acceptance, you'll die from their rejection." -Lacrae Moore

Saturn, Chiron in the 2H can struggle with insecurities and anxiety, have a low sense of self worth. They can also have financial problems and be prone to sore throats or other neck related problems. These people need to find stability in their dignity and material security, they have to attain self worth & respect through their own efforts rather than seeking validation from external sources. It's like, no matter how many things you buy, anything that is outside of you won't guarantee you more confidence or happiness. There's a fear, restriction, trauma around money, overspending and values (your values physical or not and your dignity).

People with Uranus in the 3H may forget to: think before speak, study, communicate with others like neighbors, siblings or cousins, may forget to be overall more social.

Aquarius Lilith might be reluctant in self expression, might feel ashamed or hesitant in truly being themselves because of past experiences where they might have been ridiculed for their unconventional ideas or way of being, and people being too judgy towards them and that could've scarred them. As a consequence, they could feel like an "alien" and tend to hide being themselves because they might feel shameful of that. For example: Aquarius Lilith in the 3H may be shy or quiet, problems with communication skills, they maybe used to be expressive and social but they were shamed for it so they experienced being silenced and made fun of their interests too, made fun off of their / by their siblings, cousins or neighbors, avoidant of talking too much, insecure when talking or standing up for themselves.

Mercury in Taurus, Scorpio, Pisces and Cancer may have a singer-like voice, fluid voice too for the water signs.

Sun in 8H might have faced trauma related with male figures in your life and also have an absent father, physically or emotionally.

Natives with Libra, Taurus, Venus in the 12H might prefer keeping their relationships and their romantic partners a secret, and keeping secret their self care and healing as well. They can also keep their crushes secret, not even telling to their friends or family. They might also like to gatekeep where they buy their clothes, make-up, skincare products from or just not show off these things. They can also prefer keeping their money, income, financial status a secret and not boast too much about it, their possessions or valuable things. This placement can also mean you often have people who have secretly a crush on you but they'll probably never say it / hardly admit it.

People with Moon, Cancer, Venus, Libra in the 12H, 8H and 6H can be queer, part of LGBTQ.

Moon in Aries people can be impulsive, have a hard time controlling their feelings like they're a volcano, their emotions can be explosive. They're the kind of people to go crazy over the smallest inconvenience.

Mercury in Scorpio or 8H can make natives interested in or like doing research about the occult, dark topics or other taboo things that don't have to necessarily be like the previously mentioned.

Taurus, Libra Risings or Venus in 1H is an indicator of beauty. They can have a very harmonious, symmetrical face.

Capricorn / Saturn in the 12H are karmically protected, as well as natives ruled by Saturn. As a side note, I would beware hurting or messing with people who have Saturn in 6H, 8H and 12H, and again especially those ruled by Saturn at the same time. But usually those who do them wrong are most of the times supposed to learn a lesson, that's Karma.

Venus in Aquarius can dislike it when their admirers are overly obsessive or expressive of their love for them. It can feel uncomfortable for them especially as a first impression.

Moon in the 6H or in Virgo too much overthinking and being overly anxious or emotional that it becomes an actual obstacle hindering them from daily life tasks, stress or too much negativity can manifest as health problems for these people. They could feel so much that they start getting stomachaches, headaches etc.

Saturn in 5H / Leo or 7H / Libra can be either hopeless romantics or just less interested in romance. Their love life can be very dry and not have much of that. Delay in marriage, may happen later on in life.

[perlelune]

Young God | Feyd-Rautha

The mercy you show towards an enemy in the aftermath of battle yields tragic consequences for you and your people.

Warnings: NON-CON, Fremen!Reader, Kynes!Reader, Kidnapping, Unrequited Love, Mentions of cannibalism, Knife Play, Masochism

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

The aftermath of battle is often the same ritual. Corpses are taken away to scavenge for bounty and salvage the water in their bodies. Moisture is too precious, too rare in the air and the dry desert sand covering your home world to be wasted. Harkonnen foot soldiers especially. No sympathy is spared for the cruel beasts who slaughter your fellow fremen, ravage your land, and bleed your beloved home planet Arrakis of its most valuable resource. The Spice. 

Today is one of these days. After fending off another attack by the Harkonnen army, your entire tribe is sifting through the desert fields. The proud white-skinned soldiers weren’t expecting the swarm of Fremen that unleashed upon them. Thankfully Muad'Dib had a vision of the attack and managed to convince enough of your people to raise their blades in unison to stand against their oppressors. While you balk at violence, preferring to stay back and sink into your role as a healer, you still wish to offer assistance in cleaning up the battlefield and checking for any potential injuries. You were a little shocked when you arrived and were struck with the realization that there is so little for you to do, the number advantage having been so overwhelming.

Still, you find a few warriors that require medical attention. Their injuries are deeper than you expect. Apparently one of the Harkonnen soldiers wouldn’t let himself be slain, unleashing a storm of fury all on his own and taking several down with him. You gingerly finish dressing your last wound, lifting your head as you notice your cousin heading north. 

Wiping the blood on your hands with a rag, you get to your feet.

“Chani, where are you going?” you inquire.

She stares ahead, crysknife in hand, determined.

“Some may have survived and slipped away from us. We’re checking the caves nearby.”

You give a nod and follow after her. “I’ll come with you.”

While your voice didn’t waver earlier, your stomach is in knots as you join the search. You and Chani split up. She points in a direction and you acquiesce, rushing the opposite way. You sneak underground, climbing down a row of steep, slippery rocks before you find a small cave.

You practically have to crawl the rest of the way inside, the lichen-draped overhang almost too bent and crooked for you to advance any further. It’s no wonder no one thought to check this place. It’s hard to imagine any wounded Harkonnen soldier gathering the strength to hide in such a place.

You’re forced to swallow your words however when you find the outline of a pale form lying across the cave floor. 

Your jaw drops. You inch closer to the corpse, already planning on calling another Fremen to help you extract the water from the body.

But the man’s chest lifts, his mouth shuddering ever-so-slightly.

Tamping down your fear, you hunker down and inspect his armor. Your brows knit. A long, deep jagged cut slashes his side. The kind of deadly injury that makes you wonder how the man is still breathing, as it’s impossible no internal organs haven't at least been nicked. 

Yet, somehow he is, still breathing that is.

Though you gather not for long based on the way blood gushes from the wound. 

You hear your name called from outside the cave. Pulse soaring, you climb your way out of the concealed shelter with haste. 

You’re faced with Chani’s questioning stare. She must be done with her own search. You note the tinge of crimson on the tip of her blade. Your insides wrench. 

The lie flows from your tongue with frightening ease.

“I already checked that one. It’s empty.”

She nods and walks away. You wait for her to be at a safe distance to return inside the cave.

As your slow, fearful steps bring you closer to the wounded man, your mind rages, at war with itself.

You are of two worlds. Daughter of the fallen Liet-Kynes, imperial planetologist, and a member of the Sietch Tabr. The Harkonnen are your people’s ancestral enemies. Oppressors who annihilate whoever stands between them and their unquenchable thirst for more wealth and power.

They are monsters. There is only one rational thing to do when one is faced with one of the pale-skinned warriors. Only one thing that is right to do.

You unsheathe the crysknife at your thigh from its scabbard. The blade is shimmery and new. So perfectly sharp. For you have never used it. Not even once.

You approach his unmoving form and lift the blade high in the air.

The crysknife in your hands quivers above his chest. It’d be so easy to end it. So quick. Over within a few minutes. You’ve seen countless members of your sietch do it, not a sliver of hesitation in their smooth, practiced motions. Some even enjoy it, reveling in seeing that spark wither in their enemies’ eyes. 

For a moment, you let yourself wonder, picture yourself snugly gripping the blade and driving it through the Harkonnen’s alabaster throat. The watery coughs he’d let out. The blood seeping from his neck and pooling around him. The light in his onyx orbs flickering before going out.

It should satisfy you. After all the evils they’ve inflicted upon your people, upon your planet, the prospect of retribution should fill you with immeasurable joy. 

Yet it doesn’t. Chest heaving, you slowly lower the weapon until it slips out of your hands, its clattering echoing in the cave.

Your shoulders sag as you unleash a tremulous breath, one you didn’t notice was even caged inside your lungs.

An unyielding truth swaddles you as you watch your pale-skinned enemy draw feeble, dwindling breaths. You can’t take a life. You are a healer, through and through.

You gasp when you suddenly feel the cold bite of metal against your throat.

Your eyes widen. The Harkonnen is awake, heavy, wheezing breaths bursting from his chest as he presses the blade against your neck.

“I-If you kill me, you will not survive,” you stammer, your chest clenching in fear. 

He shocks you by flipping the blade and handing it to you.

“Then give me a warrior’s death,” he says, his gaze unwavering. You study him. He looks worse than before. What he just did must have taken his last bit of strength. 

Steadying your hammering heart, you glower at him.

“The glory you seek isn’t in a dank cave, Harkonnen.”

As soon as he collapses over the cold, hard stones, you get to work. First, you check his pulse. Though it’s faint, you find a steady heartbeat. He must be quite strong, you surmise. You’ve never seen anyone survive this long with an injury this deep. Logically, he should be dead. 

But he isn’t. So while you shouldn’t feel this way, every fiber of your being craves to pull him from the brink. 

You peel the layers of his armor off him. Heat nestles inside your cheeks as your gaze roams over the hard, defined planes of his muscular form. You shake off the sensation, reminding yourself that you can’t proceed unless you have complete access to the wound and need to assess for other potential injuries.

You reach for your medpak and pouch. You use a mix of wound sealant and medicinal herbs to curb the bleeding. You then clean the wound with antiseptic and press onto it firmly. Eventually, it stops. Once the bleeding is under control, you pull out a needle and thread from your pouch and begin sewing the wound. Every stitch is nice and neat, so tight that you know he will barely scar. You squint as you work, the dim lighting of the cave making you miss the right spot in his skin a few times. You keep a cool head the entire time, simply starting over whenever necessary.

After the wound is sealed, you set up a hypovial with a plasma bag. Finding the bulging vein in his arm isn’t too hard. It’s quite easy in fact, as every part of him appears carved from stone. You slip a dash of spice melange in the IV. A potent cinnamon smell fills the air. Just the right amount to keep him awake. Now that his life isn’t on the line anymore, his peculiar body chemistry should do the rest and recover.

You unleash a deep breath and wipe the sweat doting your forehead. You sag against the cave wall.

Your eyes drift to the night sky, visible through a small opening in the overhang.

For the first time since you snuck inside the cave, the tension woven through your limbs comes loose.

Nights on Arrakis are a thing of beauty. You are willing to bet there are no more beautiful skies in the entire galaxy. None so clear and vast and with stars twinkling this bright. Mother used to say the same thing, that the boundless empyreans of Arrakis were the most beautiful sight she ever laid eyes upon. And as an imperial envoy, your mother traveled far across the known universe. So she must have been right.

You cast one last glance at the Harkonnen warrior. He’s stable. Or stable enough at least. 

It’s time for you to return to your sietch before too many questions are asked.

“You were gone a while,” your cousin blurts out when you return to your sietch. You weigh her tone. There is no suspicion laced in it, just curiosity.

“I was just making sure we didn’t forget any of them,” you casually reply.

Chani heaves out a deep sigh. “You don’t have to. You have no heart for killing, cousin.” She turns her focus to the rest of your tribe. “We need you here, tending to our wounded. It’s where you shine best.”

You nod in acknowledgement. No one in the sietch ever expected you to fight but you often wish that you could do more. You think of your mother’s untimely death, of the way Fremen laid down their lives today. Your heart sinks. If anyone learned of what you did, you would be exiled. Rightfully so. Your eyes wander to your cousin, now besides Paul Atreides. Longing gazes lock and fingers twine before they disappear into their shared tent. You look away.

You hope one day that twisting inside your chest whenever you see them will cease. You are happy for them; you truly are. Nevermind that you felt a pull towards the heir of House Atreides from the moment you met him, that you felt it was returned when his gaze rested upon you. That all of it vanished the moment his eyes crossed Chani’s.

A seer from your tribe foretold that a woman in your family would have a great destiny, one that will change the fate of worlds. You now understand, that woman is Chani, and she and Paul aren’t just destined to one another. They are fated.

And who are you to stand in the way of fate?

“You must be insane, girl,” the Harkonnen soldier scoffs as you remove the needle in his arm. Since he appears to have regained some color…or whatever consists of “color” for a Harkonnen, you elected to remove the plasma bag this morning.

A sliver of shame flutters through you that you were almost relieved to find him alive. You saved a life. Perhaps not the most worthy one, but a life nonetheless.

“Striking an enemy while he’s down isn’t brave,” you reply with nonchalance.

A crooked smirk cants his plump lips, baring a hint of the black teeth underneath.

“Insane and stupid then,” he sneers, the gristly echo of his voice resonating in the cave.

Ignoring the way his comment chafes you, you retrieve the little vials you packed this morning.

“Drink that.” He sits up, humming low in his throat with the movement when you’d expect him to wince or groan at the pain. It’s almost like he’s enjoying the pain he surely must be experiencing, but you discard that thought, because it’s ludicrous. What kind of person enjoys pain? “It’s water.” He studies you, making no move to grab the water. You fidget, unnerved that you can’t read his expression, his lack of eyebrows making it even more difficult. “I could only steal a little from the deathstill. It’s all I could get before anyone could see me.”

You briefly considered trading your mother’s water rings, the ones you inherited upon her death. The symbol of her standing and wealth within the Sietch Tabr.

Though while you may have saved your enemy, you want to hold on to that piece of her for as long as you can.

“I also have some food.” You rummage through your pouch to pull out dried fruits, slices of meats, bread and spice honey. It’s the best you could gather on short notice without drawing suspicion.

His dark gaze flicks over you as he taunts, “Perhaps I shall eat you. You look far more appetizing than…whatever this is.” You shudder, acutely aware that while cannibalism isn’t widespread amongst the Harkonnen…it’s also not unheard of. 

He snickers at your expression. “Do not fret, desert rose.” His gravelly voice drips with suggestion as he licks his lips. A chill runs through you as his black tongue and teeth are bared to you. “I’m not quite that hungry…yet.”

Your shift, discomfort slithering through you. There is something profoundly unsettling about the Harkonnen, even more so than a typical one. The blood leaking through the bandage draws your gaze.

“I should dress your wound and redo the stitching,” you offer, clearing your throat.

When your hand stretches towards his wound, he growls at you.

Your heart leaps and you retreat your hand.

“Please,” you insist. “You’re bleeding.”

When he doesn’t make another threatening sound, you take that as your cue. You quickly gather your supplies and approach him. The drumming of your heart inside your ears is a clamor, but you pretend it isn’t there, removing the bandage and driving the needle through his wound to sew it shut again. He doesn’t flinch, showing no hint of even feeling the needle. His sizzling scrutiny sears through your flesh, almost causing your usually steady hands to quake. You sharpen your focus, remembering your grandmother’s teachings. Steady heart, steady hands.

He tilts his head, dark gaze trained on you. “I threaten to eat you and you tend to me still. What a peculiar creature you are, desert rose.”

The days fly by in a strange haze, your days spent preparing for the new Reverend Mother while you sporadically check on the stranger. He recovers faster than you expect, even without you needing to use the spice melange again. Considering he was at death’s door when you found him, you can’t help but be a little amazed.

You sense the time to go your separate ways is near. You have done a lot, likely more than you should. The alabaster-skinned warrior is well enough to roam the desert and find his way back to his people through his own means. You brought him supplies, food and a stillsuit. Whatever befalls him will be up to fate and his own wits. You don’t plan on returning after tonight.

“You’re looking better,” you note, checking his wound for the last time. You leave the bandage for good measure even if it’s clear he doesn’t need it anymore, the wound having begun to fade since you removed his stitches yesterday.

He pins you with that unsettling stare once more.

“That song you sang…” he rumbles.

“A song?” Your head tilts as you comb through your memories. It comes back to you. You sometimes hum it to yourself. It calms you down. You didn’t even realize you’d done it in his presence. “Ah, that song.” You shrug, a small smile sneaking onto your lips. “It’s just a lullaby my grandmother used to sing to me before she passed, to teach children about the Shai-Hulud.”

He looks at you in what you believe to be confusion at the name, though you can only assume.

“Your people call them… sandworms,” you explain. “They are sacred and should be revered.”

Silence hangs between you and the Harkonnen. His deep raspy voice shatters it after some time.

“Songs…I had a blade in my hands from the moment I could walk.”

“I’m sorry,” you blurt out, unsure what else to say. He doesn’t seem sad, more reflective, but it seems you should say something. “Do you…Do you ever think of what your life would be like if you weren’t Harkonnen?” When he looks at you blankly, a nervous laugh peals from your lips. “I’m sorry. That was a silly question.”

Your crysknife materializes in his hands from behind his back. Your blood runs cold as you pat your thigh. You don’t remember ever leaving it around him.

“My older brother...He took me from our parents when I was a baby,” he utters, sounding detached, almost as if he were recounting someone else’s life. “My uncle raised me. I don’t remember my father. And my mother…” His lightless gaze slams into yours as he smiles, exposing his glistening, black teeth. “I killed that whimpering, meddling bitch.”

Your breath snags in your throat. Perhaps…you let yourself get too comfortable around the Harkonnen. The crude reminder of who he is, who they all are, yanks you back to reality.

You bolt to your feet, coaxing a tremulous smile onto your face.

“It’s getting late. I should return home before the sandstorms grow too strong.”

As you prepare to leave, the muffled pitter-patter of footsteps above you freezes you in your tracks. Your eyes bulge. Dread sinks within you as you realize someone’s right above you.

Before a single sound can make its way past your lips, the Harkonnen’s large hand envelops your mouth. He pulls you flush against his bare chest as he whispers into your ear, “Quiet.”

His muscles go taut against you. You catch him twirling the blade with smooth precision, clearly ready to fight if need be. You hold your breath, bridling your stuttering heartbeats.

Two men in full Harkonnen livery leap inside the cave. Panic rushes through you.

However, instead of a fight breaking out, relief fills the soldier’s faces as they see him. 

“Na-baron. We received your beacon.”

Na-Baron…The air is knocked from your lungs. The title isn’t that common amidst the known universe. In fact, it’s quite unique and you only ever heard of one man from one specific house using it. Na-baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, the heir-designate to Baron Vladmir Harkonnen. 

He is a monster, a ruthless killer…and you nursed him back to health. Allowed him to get well enough to hurt, maim and kill as he pleases. The cave seems to twirl off its axis around you.

Perhaps he was right that night. You might be an insane idiot.

You feel the subtle lift of his lips against your scalp.

“Right. Did I forget to mention my name?” he taunts, as if he could read every thought zooming across your head. Giving you no time to even try to run or fight him off, the na-Baron slams your head against a nearby wall.

Pain explodes inside your skull. Your vision dims as you grow too weak to stand, your knees buckling beneath you. You fall into his arms and he holds you against him. He strokes the side of your face, a fire burning in his onyx orbs. Consciousness slips from you, his last words reverberating inside your ears.

“You and I are going home to Giedi Prime, my desert rose.”

You awake startled, jarred by the softness of the sheets and the largeness of the bed around you. This is nothing like the cot you used to sleep on in the desert. You leap from the bed, clutching your face and hugging your frame, stunned to note you are without your stillsuit and face mask.

Instead, you are wearing a sheer white tunic that hugs your curves in a way that leaves very little to the imagination. The outfit is unlike you, impractical in every way. Your pulse escalates.

You rush to rise and nearly crash down on the bed again. 

Your forehead creases.

You wobble around, struck by the difference in gravitational pull, humidity and atmospheric pressure. Every breath you take exerts you, bearing heavily on your lungs.

Your head spins as you glance at the unfamiliar room. Every single detail of it is cold, somber, opulent.

Horror twists your insides.

You’re not on Arrakis anymore.

“You’re in the Harkonnen keep, darling.” 

The gravelly voice erupting at your back has you whirl around. A half-exposed Feyd-Rautha fills your sight, his carved alabaster muscles and bald head shimmering silver in the low light.

You swallow hard, fighting to keep yourself breathing normally in the brand new air.

“The Harkonnen Keep on…”

“Giedi Prime, yes,” Feyd-Rautha finishes.

While you understood it on your own, having it uttered out loud sends you in a renewed state of alarm. You are away from your family, your friends, your home. You are alone on a foreign planet. A hostile, enemy planet.

“In secluded apartments away from my other concubines,” he further informs. A shadow of mirth lurks in his gaze. “They’re quite the jealous kind. They may even try to take a bite out of you if they learn of your existence…” He leers at your shivering frame, making no effort to hide his lust, the evidence already bulging in his pants. “Though I don’t think I could entirely blame them.”

He inches closer to you. “How does the weight of a real planet feel?” he asks, a twisted excitement swaying in his dark orbs. “Is it crushing your bones? Is every cell in your body screaming in pain, my desert rose?” He grips your chin, studying you oddly, almost as if he wishes he could absorb every bit of your agony and discomfort.

You glare up at him, your insides white hot with rage.

“H-How could you do this? I saved you.”

He frames your chin, squeezing tightly. “Oh darling, you should have killed me…” A squeak spills from your throat as he drags his tongue across the side of your quivering cheek. His lips brush over your earshell as he mumbles under his breath. “Because there’s nowhere in the galaxy you will ever be able to hide from me now.”

“I belong in Arrakis with my people. You have to let me go,” you plead. 

You search his impassive face, scouring for an errant ounce of humanity. The emptiness you find has tears rushing to your eyes. You mourn the tragic loss of moisture, willing yourself to stop crying. Ever since you were young, you were taught never to waste your precious water...especially on something as trivial, as painfully unnecessary as tears.

...But you can't quell your weeping.

He tilts his head.

“You belong with me…No, to me, desert rose. In my arms, screaming as I ruin that pretty cunt of yours with my cock.”

Fear floods your entire being. Your eyes scan the room. A faint spark of hope blooms inside you as you spot a long, sharp knife on a stone table nearby.

Pushing past the queasiness you experience every time you move on the unfamiliar planet, you race across the room and grab the knife.

You point it at him. Instead of cowering, Feyd-Rautha opens his arms, smirking.

“Do it,” he urges, making no effort to protect himself from the sharp blade in your hand, inviting you to strike him as his tongue darts across his lips.

His uncanny anticipation coats the air. Confusion fills you.

“I will,” you say, trying to appear braver than you feel. Still, the blade quakes in your hand.

“Please. I beg of you,” he purrs, gliding towards you. As he watches you hesitate, he cruelly reminds you, “You will never go home, never see your beloved planet again. In fact,...” He hums, his eyes lighting up as if a wonderful idea just occurred to him. “I think I might slaughter some of your family and friends just for sport.”

A wave of wrath surges through you. Bereft a thought behind it, your hand slashes across his chest, a small cut forming there. Droplets of blood so dark it appears black drip down onto his alabaster flesh. 

“More…” he rasps, pleasure leaking from his gravelly voice.

The sight of the bleeding wound rattles you, causing you to retreat.

But he doesn’t let you remove the blade, his fingers cinching around your wrist and keeping its sharp tip over his bulging pec. You sob as he forces you to drag the blade across his chest, a blissful expression spreading across his features. A long dark cut oozing dark red blood decorates his body now, going all the way to his defined abs.

Terror and confusion tangle within you. You stagger backwards, the dagger slipping from your lingers and hitting the floor.

“You’re sick.”

“I didn’t realize there was such a fire inside you, desert rose. If I don’t have you now, I think I’ll go mad.” His hoarse, lewd tone scrapes against your eardrums, causing your insides to twist in dread. He cracks his neck, black tongue sweeping over his lips as he approaches you. “No, I definitely will.”

It’s the only warning you get before he tosses you on the bed and rips the clothes off your frame. Tears brimming your lashes, you squeal in protest, scratching and punching every part of him within reach. You slap him hard and he cackles, baring his black smile in sheer delight. 

“Come on, desert rose, I’m sure you can hit even harder,” he sneers. 

To make him eat his words, you hit him again. Harder than before. His laugh gets louder as you watch a faint bruise form on his cheek.

Pinning your wrists besides your head, he bends over your chest. His tongue swirls around your nipples, his cool tongue causing you to hiss and shake. Sharp teeth graze your breast and the breath hitches in your throat. You squirm on the sheets, completely at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha as he licks, bites and kisses every part of your flesh. As if he wanted you covered in marks of his ownership, wanted to ensure there wouldn’t be a doubt in anyone’s mind that you were his if they stole a glance at you. You loathe the way your traitorous body writhes and pants, a disgusting dampness gathering at the apex of your thighs. 

The tears in your eyes swell. Your body is divorcing your frazzled mind little by little, yielding to his rough, wanton touch. 

He grabs your thighs and dips between your legs, diving straight for your center. He licks a long stripe up and down your folds and you tremble. As his devilish tongue swirls around your clit, your eyes flutter, blinding pleasure building in your core. Hot waves of delight engulf you as he gathers your arousal with his tongue and drags it around your tender spot. The slow, unrelenting patterns he traces with his mouth have you fight the urge to buck your hips into his jaw. Your juices drench the entire bottom of his mouth, but he doesn’t seem to mind, greedily devouring your cunt as if he’ll never get to do it again.

As you quiver against him, your orgasm flowing through you, he chuckles against your wet cunt.

“Your body can’t even deny how much it craves me, desert rose.”

Shame pulses through you with his words.

He crawls over you, cutting his pants loose with one aggressive shove downwards. Only a glimpse of his thick alabaster cock, glazed with his need at the tip appears in your vision before he shoves the entirety of himself in you. The pain is so intense, flames alongside your walls, that it robs the words from your throat. He sinks inside you until his tight balls chafe your cunt, his hand wrapping around your throat while the other keeps your wrists above your head.

You whimper beneath him, defenseless against his sharp, piercing thrusts. Pleasure builds within you, his cock overwhelming you with shameful sensations each time it grazes your sensitive places, making you see stars. Gargled sounds pour from your throat as his girth splits you apart.

He grunts as your walls constrict around him, slamming into you even harder.

“You’re so delightfully tight around me, darling.” He bends over you to whisper, “I bet I’ll turn you into my perfect little cock-hungry whore in no time. Have you on your back and knees for me whenever I wish it.”

The Harkonnen heir’s pace fastens, his cock hitting spots that have you question your sanity. So delicious that you can’t help but let pathetic little moans escape from your throat.

He buries himself inside you even deeper, the pain and pleasure blending in crescendo. Your eyes roll back as you near your peak. Meanwhile, Feyd Rautha’s hunting his own release, his quick thrusts growing sharp and slow, his bald head grazing your bare chest.

Pleasure rolls over in a tidal wave, your back curling alongside the sheets. His own release comes after yours, thick ropes of his seeds painting your sore, sensitive walls. 

As you crash in a boneless heap on the sheets, he wraps his hand around your jaw and steals your lips for a sloppy, heated kiss. 

You cry out in pain as he sinks his teeth into your neck, placing a visible puncture wound that won’t disappear for a while.

Still nestled in your warmth, he scatters more bites along your shoulder.

“Any man would be insane to let you go after tasting such a sweet cunt, desert rose.”

You know he wants you to see, doesn’t want you to miss a single second of the spectacle. It was a split second moment, one that could have easily resulted in his death. 

But at the very last second, Feyd-Rautha prevailed and dodged Paul Atreides’ attack. He then proceeded to stab him in the heart in front of his heartbroken mother and your cousin. 

You don’t want to believe it. It must be an awful dream, one you will soon wake up from. One that lasted entirely too long. While seeing Paul’s body sink to the floor, your heart shattering into a million tiny pieces…Watching Chani glare at you with pure hatred in her eyes from across the room is almost worse. You want to run to her, embrace her, tell her you never meant to leave, tell her you aren’t a traitor to your people despite what clothes you may wear now, what marks may brand your skin. 

But it’s all for naught. Paul is dead and with him the hopes for your planet, for your people have died as well.

And you are left with nothing, no one. A stranger in a strange world. 

It’s what he reminds you as he has you caged beneath him that night, burying himself inside you again and again with abandon. 

“You’re mine, desert rose. And nothing, no one can take you away from me. Not my uncle. Not Paul Atreides. Not the Emperor.” He chuckles darkly, whispering against your ear. “...And not even you, darling.”

He is right. You are his. And with no one to challenge the rule of the now Baron Feyd-Rautha, ruler of House Harkonnen, it is as he said…There is nowhere in the galaxy you can hide where he will not find you.

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #28

My Beloved

Imagine dis…

You know, I like misunderstandings…

I saw a bunch of prompts that Danny is the mother of Ellie and Dan who is angry and will destroy the world in the future.

I also saw a bunch of prompts of Danny and Phantom separating themselves and acting like two individual beings but having to be in proximity or else there would be consequences.

But I didn’t see anything about combining the two things…

HEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE

…

Daniel “Danny” Fenton knew that he had many powers, that kept on growing and appearing at the heat of the moment. He would sometimes forget how many powers he had due to his never-ending list. He has powers that he likes to use often, like levitation, flight, intangibility, his ghostly wail, and many more… But even he has a favorite, his duplication power.

Unlike Vlad who can create multiple clones of himself to do his bidding, he can only create one.

Now don’t go on and underestimate him just because he can only create one despite Vlad making multiple and who is also a halfa.

…

His clone is unique, when he first discovered this power of his he was all alone in the house full of guns to kill him when a passing thought passed his mind. Wes was getting on his nerves with how he adamantly tried to prove that he was Phantom. He knew the consequences when the people knew the truth, especially his parents, every time he closed his eyes it always showed him and his parents at the other end of the dissecting table.

He kept on saving them, poor animal ghosts who had just stumbled through the portal. He kept on stuffing his face with his pillows just to block out the screams.

He had just blinked, one moment he was all alone and all of a sudden another appeared in front of him.

He was startled at the notion while the clone looked at him with interest.

The clone was not human-HIM per se, but it was the ghostly-HIM aka Phantom but with more ghostly attributes.

Snow white hair that seems to sway, taller by a few feet, pointed ears, fanged teeth, skin so blue, and white freckles that seem to give off a faint glow.

He tried going ghost but was unable to do so, what he can do is a weaker version of flight, intangibility, and invisibility. While Phantom got most if not all of his powers whenever he went ghost.

At first, he was ecstatic with this new power of his not only he can throw people off who are looking too deeply into Phantom’s identity and put an end to Wes’s chatter but with this new power of his he can finally have some sort of normalcy.

But after a few minutes, he began to feel fatigued and nauseous, Phantom slowly moved towards Danny and merged himself with his human half causing a faint white glow all over his body that he got used to whenever he was going ghost.

It was a few minutes, Danny thought to himself, but it was enough to not only create a separation between the kid who always hides in the bathroom or disappears whenever there is a ghost attack and a ghost kid who looks the same age as he and only appears whenever he disappears.

But it was enough.

…

Everything was great, as Phantom was able to deal with the ghosts that constantly invaded his hometown but also, he is slowly bringing his grades up from where it was before the accident. He also created an alibi for himself so people will know that both Phantom and Danny and two separate people.

Both sides were able to go on separated from each other the more time they spent separated

…

After a few days, something also began to change.

Phantom would sometimes make a joke or a quip about death or even puns that made Danny laugh. Phantom would be more serious whenever they got too far from each other, small things that made both Danny and Phantom different from one another from an outside perspective.

Both made a mental connection to each other.

Not like romantically, but more of a deep platonic love for each other.

Devotion to each of their other halves. So deep that one might double-take whenever they saw the two.

Danny loves his friends and family but even they cannot understand him ever since the day of the accident. Jazz blessed his sister’s soul, who read every book in every existence known to man and tried to help him. But the thing is, those books are for humans, not ghosts, and especially not for someone like him.

He died and came back to life knowing instinctively that something was wrong with him. He stands in between life and death. He knew he died and felt every bolt of electricity that had killed him. He who had to sit still at the dinner table listening to their parents who were supposed to love them, listened in great detail to what they would do to Phantom when they had caught him. 

But Phantom, Phantom instinctively knew how he felt and heard his thoughts. When rough days came to Danny, Phantom quietly appeared behind him and offered his silent support.

Both needed each other to live, without the other one cannot survive on their own.

Phantom, when got too far and separated from his human for far too long got reckless, angry, cold, merciless, and ruthless. Nocturn got the burnt of it despite knowing that Phantom held back.

And Danny?

Got too emotional, and detached, and has that far-away look on his face. He would space out an entire war or destruction surrounding and he still would not notice.

Both are each other’s anchor and rock. And when both become one and become Phantom together then they will be unstoppable.

…

When Danny became the Ghost King it was clear they needed to separate often due to the amount of paperwork that was left pilling when Pariah Dark was in charge.

It became domestic, Danny thought as he paused for a bit when he was trying to write a book report from the Lord of the Rings courtesy of Mr. Lancer. Add the latest guests in his room he thought as he took a look at the sleeping and cuddled up Dan and Ellie who are now freshly de-aged due to some circumstances.

When Danny tried to explain to the two halves the reason why he and Phantom seemed to separate or why he was using this power of his almost every day.

Dan and Ellie seem the only two who didn’t feel weird at his new predicament. Both de-aged ghosts after a sudden bad melting episode and the start of someone’s redemption arc called human Danny is their mom while Phantom is their dad.

Danny at first surprised at the title given by the two but asked playfully to the twins why is he the mom. Phantom who was trying to cuddle the two de-aged ghosts whom he saw as his children at this point and his human counterpart mumbled about whether was it the time when he went and juggled flaming diapers or mastered the art of the 'mom stare' that could freeze a room?

Danny who is still in a bad mood from Dash’s bullying earlier snarked back at Phantom on how he got the dad title. Did he accidentally perfect the art of 'dad dancing' during ghostly gatherings? or accidentally stumble into a dad joke competition?

Sam, often would joke that if she didn’t know better, she would think the two would be lovers which would be found in Paulina’s A03 account and history.

Now that spread like wildfire, it spread faster than Wes could say Danny is Phantom. Now both GIW and his parents are out to get him for two different reasons… One Phantom mind controlled their precious son and now locked up Danny for his “own good” and two he was called a so-called “traitor” to his race as he fell in love with a creature who was not even sentient.

As things slowly went out of hand, Danny had to physically drag Phantom, who had been clawing and gripping to Danny like a lifetime ever since Danny told him to stay at the Infinite Realms for their safety, to a portal with the two children who have their eyes puffed red as they say their farewells to each other.

…

The JL is now confused, they kept seeing the same teen on the loose that appeared in various cities such as Metropolis, Central, Star City, and many more, with various government agents tailing him and trying to capture him.

At first, they thought it was another of Walker’s programs, in which they kidnap various kids who have a powerful meta ability to be part of a group that directly answers to the government.

But when it was revealed that he is another son of Bruce Wayne, it became personal.

Could it be another ploy to gain the Wayne enterprise through a much older and miniature appearance of Bruce Wayne, is it another ploy to gain Bruce Wayne’s wealth and money… They might never know.

…

Batman aka Bruce Wayne publicly announced that he had found another son who was rummaging in the trash of Gotham City, this way those mysterious agents could not publicly go after him as Danny had been publicly broadcasted and the manor is equipped with the latest security known to man.

Danny is very skittish the Batfam concluded, as if every move and twitch they made is something Danny should be wary of. Danny was too distracted to be sad, and have little to no energy to even join Dick and the rest of his siblings to bond over something.

However, that didn’t stop them from forming some sort of familial bond with Danny despite him being too guarded and too wary to get close to the family.

However, it all changed on a random day, as the entire noticed his change of mood. No longer the wariness, anxiety, and nervousness they encountered daily. Each of them began asking around within themselves if they were the one who made a change to Danny, even Alfred didn’t know who or what made him turn a 180.

Of course, when they tried to ask COUGH to interrogate COUGH Danny, he just kept quiet and smiled shyly.

..

Night comes and all the Bats are gathered at the cave to discuss what made Danny to be in a good mood before their patrol.

As they were just about to leave for their shift when Oracle notified them Danny leaving the manor.

Of course, all of them immediately followed him and followed him to a tall abandoned building with Danny sitting giddily on top of the said building. Of course, some of them have some dark thoughts about Danny sitting on top of a warehouse and seeming near the edge. One of the Bat broods is ready to interfere if Danny even makes any signs.

But all thoughts were thrown out as a crack seemed to tear through reality appeared behind Danny, Danny on the other hand looked ecstatic. As the tear/ crack opened up there they saw an underworldly being donned with a crown that is covered in various jewels, an outfit and cape fit for an emperor, and eyes that reminded them of the Lazarus pits.

Just as the moment they tried to calm their hearts down, Danny flung himself towards the unknown being and cried out beloved, the said being caught Danny and twirled him around.

Both are in their little world as they both keep laughing and hugging each other.

The Bat family who are still in the shadows kept their eyes on the two as they wanted to get Danny away from someone that made their instincts go haywire. Batman and Robin are both especially to grab Danny away from that thing.

Both the being and Danny finally settled down and began chatting to each other with little to no distance between the two. The being then summoned a basket that was full of unique and exotic food and then shared it with their new brother.

Then Danny suddenly asked about the kids, What kids!!! EVERYONE thought when suddenly two black blurs went and tackled Danny down, knocking the air out of him.

As the kids stopped hugging Danny, they all held their breaths, they looked like the perfect copy of Danny. Black hair and blue eyes, both kids exclaimed Danny as their mom while they pouted at the being and called him dad about hoarding their mom.

The reunited “family” began chatting about how they were at each other, more on the beings asking how Danny is especially doing.

Danny chatted about how the Waynes are too good for him and how he informed Batman since the Bats have a very close relationship with the Waynes. When one of the kids why mom needs to talk to Batman, Danny just casually reveals a bombshell on the Anti-Ecto laws, GIW, The Infinite realms...etc. So that both mom and dad could get together again, as mom aka Danny is trying everything to stop the war from the living world while their dad tries to stop the war from the Realms.

As they were chatting and catching up to one another, Danny looked at his wristwatch and told the kids that he had to get going or else the Waynes might notice that he snuck out. Both kids immediately cried and gripped Danny while the other being also known as dad didn’t even try to pry the kids off from Danny as he too wanted to stay with the human.

Of course, Danny gently pried off the three hands that were gripping and immediately one of the kids threw a tantrum at how Danny was not safe and might get him killed if he stayed there and Danny should just go with them. Of course, Danny shook his head and told the kid that Mommy was doing everything he could to protect both of them also he might not want to admit it in front of the Wayne but he did grow on them, like a fungus he can’t remove.

And so, the trio left the building after one last look and hug from Danny, Danny immediately lost the small life and cheerfulness that he had when he was meeting them and silently went back to the manor.

…

This made the Bat clan scramble to fix everything, all the while competing for the favorite uncle and aunt title while both Bruce and Alfred engage in their silent war for the grandpa title, when they showed their findings to the League both Booster Gold and the Flask stood up white as paper.

They claimed at the picture of Danny, that he may be the one who destroyed the future, but looked a little confused as some traits that they remembered were not on Danny which made them speculate that maybe he grew into. But when the two-time travelers explained in great detail his appearance, it matched the appearance of their nephew.

Is this the reason why Dan turned evil, humans have killed his family leaving him both angry and devastated that he let the world know of his pain?

…

PS: If someone out there wants to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so, don’t forget to tag me though.

PPS: As you can see, I posted a bit early, I got a bunch of people to do and things to see. So uhh, bye-bye!

PPPS: This one got too long for my liking...

[deception-united]

Let's talk about killing off characters.

Killing off characters is a dramatic device often used to advance the plot, create tension, or evoke emotional responses from readers or viewers. We love doing it. The initial shock, the mourning after. The effects of it on the other characters. It's fun.

Nevertheless, you can still achieve the desired impact on your plot and characters without necessarily resorting to fictional murder.

Here are some alternatives to drive the plot forward:

Character transformation: Instead of killing off a character, you can have them undergo significant personal growth or change. This could involve overcoming challenges, facing moral dilemmas, or undergoing a shift in beliefs or values. Their transformation can still drive the plot forward and impact other characters. (I especially love it when the transformation is negative—like when a traumatic experience of some sort completely strips a character of their soul. But that's a sentiment for another day.)

Betrayal or conflict: Introduce betrayal or conflict between characters that challenges relationships and creates tension. This can lead to significant plot developments and character arcs without resorting to death. And it can be cause for quite a lot of angst.

Separation or estrangement: Have characters physically or emotionally separated from each other, causing tension and driving the plot forward as they strive to reconnect or deal with the consequences of their estrangement.

Sacrifice without death: Characters can make significant sacrifices that don't necessarily involve their death. This could be sacrificing personal goals, relationships, or values for the greater good or to achieve a specific objective.

Injury or disability: Instead of killing off a character, you can incapacitate them through injury or disability. This will create challenges for the character and those around them, leading to character development and plot progression as they're forced to adapt to their new circumstances.

Redemption arcs: Characters who have committed wrongdoings can undergo redemption arcs where they seek forgiveness, make amends, or strive to become better individuals. This can drive the plot forward while also adding depth to the character. Keep in mind that this may not be a suitable alternative to death for some characters—for instance, the protagonist forgiving their abusive parent despite all they were forced to go through may evoke a sense of indignation rather than admiration for their supposed selflessness.

Revelations or secrets: Introduce revelations or uncover secrets that have significant impacts on characters and their relationships. This can lead to conflict, tension, and plot twists without the need for death.

Forced alliances or unexpected partnerships: Characters can be forced into alliances or partnerships with unlikely allies, leading to interesting dynamics and plot developments as they navigate these new relationships.

Loss of power or status: Characters can experience a loss of power, status, or reputation, which can drive the plot forward as they strive to regain what they've lost, seek revenge on those responsible, or adapt to their new circumstances.

Time constraints or pressure: Introduce time constraints or pressure situations that force characters to act quickly and make difficult, split-second decisions that may end up being quite regrettable later on. This can raise conflicts of who's to blame, or what should have been done.

I feel like I strayed off a little, but there you have it. Hope this was helpful! ❤

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[sixofsol]

the crows as tarot cards in the major arcana

FINALLY DONE with the first part of this project… the plan is to maybe make a whole deck with different characters from different fandoms, we’ll see !! here’s my long explanation on why i choose what cards!

for all the crows i choose cards from the major arcana, which as the name suggests, often represent major events in life. most of the inspirations come from the rider-waite deck, however i’ve also taken inspo from other decks ! also pay attention to the directions the characters are facing - left usually represents the past, right the future, and facing front means the present

0 - the fool - jesper

the major arcana is sometimes described as the fool’s journey, we see this with the fool being card 0, instead of card 1. the fool goes through every challenge the major arcana has for him, and grows in the meantime. the fool represents innocence, freedom, adventure, travel, carlessness and the start of a journey. for jesper this feels very fitting especially looking through a pre canon lens, i sort of imagined this being his journey to ketterdam. the flowers on his coat are inspired by the rider-waite deck, where the fool holds a white rose, which symbolize youth and innocence.for all the crows i choose cards from the major arcana, which as the name suggests, often represent major events in life. most of the inspirations come from the rider-waite deck, however i’ve also taken inspo from other decks !

9 - the hermit - wylan

the hermit symbolizes soul searching and solitude. much like the fool for jesper, this feels like a pre canon card for wylan. the hermit can mean withdrawing inwards to recover and heal after a hard time. solitude in search for enlightenment. the lantern is also taken from the rider-waite deck, and to me the star in the lantern, much like the actual star card, represents healing.

11 - justice - inej

the justice card means… justice. consequences, truth and honesty are also words associated with the card. i tried many different ways of making the sword and scales interact, and thought this was a nice way. this to me is post canon inej, sankta of the seas out hunting slavers inej ! her yielding the sword with both hands also to me means that she holds justice in her hands, and she will bring it.

12 - the hanged man - matthias

before anyone gets mad at me… hear me out ! the hanged man represents being in a situation which you are not happy with, and that you want to change. you have the ability to change it as well, if you can dare to let go of the old situation, and see things with new eyes. this to me captures matthias arc very neatly, as much of his development is learning to see the world from a different perspective.

13 - death - nina

apart from death itself, the death card represents more rebirth, endings and beginnings, and letting go. traumatic transformations, which i think also captures nina’s whole arc. she is constantly being reborn, the world around her constantly changing. both pre and post parem, and i wanted the lines around the heart, black and red, represent different parts of her powers. as well as the icy fjerdan terrain behind her, being the first of the many sudden transformations she went through.

18 - the moon - kaz

the moon card generally means “everything is not as it seems”. it’s a card of deception and illusion, both to the outside world, but also when it comes to burying things within ourselves. the moon is closely tied to water, which matched the vibe i wanted to go for. fun fact, in numerology in tarot you count the numbers combined, so 1+8 for 18, meaning both wylan and kaz’ cards are number 9, which is why i wanted similar vibes for them