#especially when you’re growing as a golden child of the family

[fandomsnrambles]

The spinjitzu family has recently become my roman empire for some reason, you’re all going to see so much of them 😭

Anyway, i’ve been thinking about his relationships with his sons recently. And I know he doesn’t have a good relationship with any of them.

I know people argue ‘Wu was his favourite’ but i think if we actually look at how he acts, you realise he didn’t really have a favourite. I also feel personally inclined to respectfully mention that just because Garmadon said it, doesn’t make it true. Characters have biases that mess with their worldviews after all. It’s like saying Wu’s to blame for the devourer’s bite because he said he was. Even though he was like seven, maybe nine and had no idea that snake even existed.

Thats why you should take everything they say with a grain of salt and then consider their actions.

Wu’s relationship with his father is complicated. In the spinjitzu books he mentions how he wants his father’s approval, but doesn’t know how to start with getting it. We also get hints of the FSM’s (flawed) parenting methods in the show. I’ve noticed he’s emotionally distant even if he’s physically there. I mean, Wu says his father talked to them (Garmadon and Wu) less after the Aspheera incident. Makes me think that the FSM was definitely not there emotionally.

Due to this, Wu’s emotional needs as a child weren’t really met. His fathers distance hurt him and the FSM (maybe accidentally) neglected him. I say accidentally because i’m pretty sure the FSM is a traumatised child soldier who doesn’t know how to properly cope with everything so they just shut down/dissociate.

Wu was also raised with high expectations (alongside Garmadon.) This probably put him under a lot of stress to keep up. I’m thinking gifted child who got burnt out and more depressed as he aged.

I also think the FSM has trust and paranoia issues. You can look at Nineko and the way they went about dying for this. This guy really hands their son a script of where he died without telling him he gave it to him and mentions the bare minimum details. (I wonder if mentioning too much details got the FSM hurt. Maybe thats why he’s so distant.) Of course, trauma doesn’t really excuse being a flawed parent.

I also feel the need to mention that Wu unintentionally copies his father’s trauma responses. Heck, we could even talk about how Garmadon does the same, and later Lloyd. They all bottle their emotions and issues and hope nothing bad ever happens with that ever. Too bad for them though, we know how this ends

(Oof this is ✨generational trauma✨ at work)

Moving on to Garmadon, we know that after he got bitten by the devourer, the FSM helped him through his episodes and tries his best to find a cure. From this i can honestly say that the FSM did love and care for his sons. But this doesn’t mean they knew how to properly show that they did (especially because he doesn’t have a proper basis for what parent-child relationships should even look like.)

We see this when we get to know of Garmadon’s insecurities as a child. He doesn’t think there was anything wrong with him and seems to hate how the FSM tries to find a cure for him. Maybe because he doesn’t like the implication that he needs ‘fixing’ more than anything else. Garmadon’s also different than Wu in the sense that he grows more resentful of his father as he grows older whilst Wu clings to his father’s attention to get approval/praise.

I also want to mention how this resentment built up also affects how his perception of Wu’s relationship with their dad. He thinks Wu is favoured probably because Wu doesn’t have the venom and is the good one (because the venom apparently makes Garmadon the ‘bad’ one) and he sees his younger brother as the golden child. This probably built to jealousy and then guilt for the jealousy because Garmadon does love his brother a lot.

The high expectations also come’s into play here. It probably puts a lot of weight on Garmadon’s shoulders. Which doesn’t make his growing feelings of resentment better nor does it make his insecurities about his venom any better.

What makes this whole situation worse is that NO ONE in this family knows how to communicate. Wu doesn’t tell his dad or his brother how he feels, Garmadon doesn’t as well and FSM wouldn’t be caught breathing a word of his feelings to be honest.

This whole family would rather die than communicate ffs.

In conclusion:

[coralinnii]

Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy feat: Floyd genre: humor, budding romance note: set in the same universe as previous works (Azul’s and Jade’s ver specifically), no pronouns were used, villain/ess!reader is not a merfolk, 1.6k word count, use of non-canon family name (I’ve officially adopted you),

My wifi is on the fritz again so going online hasn’t been easy but hopefully I can get it working again soon. I’ve been hiding in cafes but my wallet isn’t appreciative because I don’t like going into a cafe and not order anything T_T. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy our number 1 crazy eel boi

Series masterlist

You’re contemplating your life choices as you wonder what on Earth you did to deserve this. You can’t remember what happened that brought you into this world you once thought fictional but you were aware of how you’re probably gonna leave this world if the story stays in its original path.

You were a nameless mob character who was caught in the crossfire of your imbecile brother. During a party, your brother started bragging about your father who was a famous knight and started a knight training program after being given the title of baron, which grabbed the attention of the dangerous son of a marquis family, the Floyd Leech. Since then, the merman would suddenly visit your home to curiously watch the training while your brother continues to brag and even starts talking about how close he is to the notorious Leech family son who, while not the heir, was in line to inherit a great bit of land and some “business assets” from his father.

Your younger brother didn’t think that associating yourself with a family of suspicious background was too bad…until a rival of the Leech family invaded their home and proceeded to interrogate your family for information on the Leech household. Obviously knowing nothing, the rival family ended you and your mother’s future in anger. Your father, heartbroken and weakened by the lost of his beloved and one of his children, collapsed and became bedridden.

Still, you couldn’t hate your brother no matter how foolish he was, especially when he begged Floyd in tears to avenge his family, only to be ignored by the eel merman. “How is it my problem?” He cruelly said as he dismissed your brother to deal with his broken family.

You grew cautious, wary of people associated with the Leech household and any other noblemen that aligned themselves with them, which included the Golden Count Ashengrotto with his new partner, and that family that recently arranged an engagement with the Leech family heir with their only child.

You also taught your younger brother to learn when to hold his tongue, your family’s business is your own and avoid excessively bragging to others as it lures unpleasant leeches (he thought you meant metaphorically).

Then you explicitly told him not to interact with anyone from the Leech family, especially Floyd. You were willing to smack him over the head to get that warning across, telling him, “To him, we’re just toys. Not friends”

This was a clear solution, just don’t meet Floyd…or Jade…and have anything to do with that crazy eel family and your future is secured. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.

Then one day, at a party…

The night was going well. Your younger brother found a clique of his own to interact with so you didn’t have to worry about catching the attention of a certain someone. Although, while you saw Jade mingling with the crowd, you haven’t seen even the shadow of the other Leech which worries you somewhat. However, you chose to let your guard down to enjoy the ambiance of the party. You deserve to have some fun too.

Some time has passed and soon you felt your body growing tired of all the socialising. You wandered around alone to find a secluded room to rest while contemplating whether you should call it a night. Typically you stay behind until your brother was ready to leave together as to keep a watchful eye over him. But since he’s been on his best behaviour, you wondered if you’re really needed. But then, voices then disrupted your train of thought as you heard someone speaking from the other side of the closed doors of the room you were occupying.

“If you need some time to rest, Sir Leech. I suggest one of these rooms my master has prepared” someone whom you assumed to be a servant spoke but that’s not what concerned you. Did he say Leech?!

A mental battle was going in your head as you assess your situation. Which Leech was it? (Does that matter?) Should you stay? (No!) How would you get out?? (!!)

You looked around in panic as you prayed for maybe a door to a conjoining room, maybe a bathroom to hide in until he leaves. You then looked to the balcony and without a second thought, pulled the doors open. You were on the second floor which wasn’t too bad. The balcony faced the back of the house towards the back garden which meant no one should be there to witness you climbing down. You’ve seen enough parkour videos that you figured you could come of this unscathed.

But the logical part of your brain is pulling you back, telling you that this absolutely reckless, stupid really. You can imagine your dumb brother doing this but your parents urge you to be the level-headed one of the two of you (which you like to argue on, why do you have to be the responsible one?).

But before your senses could come to you, you heard the knobs of the room door shaking, and you decided that you only live once.

So jumping, it is.

Without looking down (in fear of your nerves winning), you leapt off the railings of the balcony and braced for impact. Your clothes flutter loudly in the air as you try to push the fabric from your eyes to watch your landing. But instead of the marbled flooring, you were met with a pair of surprised heterocromatic eyes.

Floyd was sighing in irritation as schools of bottom feeders noblemen rushed over to him and his brother (mainly his brother) in hopes to find themselves in good graces with the Leech household. Jade may have a better facade going but Floyd was having a harder time not to snarl and squeeze the living souls out of these suck ups. In this pompous tank, no one was worth his attention. So, Floyd figured he could kill some time away from the mindless minnows and walk towards the backyard of the mansion, maybe chill out in a tree until his brother finds him.

In no imagination he had thought of for today did he expect to see something - or someone - flying down towards him in a mass of fabric fluttering in the wind. With quick reflexes, the ocean-haired man raised his arms and swiftly caught your waist through the mess of your clothing but momentum still won against the two of you as Floyd fell backwards with you, crashing onto the ground rather unceremoniously. His anger building quickly, Floyd raised his head about to take a good look at the crazy human he’s about to squeeze. But like how quickly his anger started, it immediately extinguished when he did take a good look at you.

He saw you, a flushing mess slightly shaking from your reckless decision to literally take a plunge off the second floor. Your hair in a disarray from the wind and likely the landing as well. And your eyes that Floyd found himself watching in intrigue as a swirling range of emotion was evident in your expressive face. Most visually present was your look of fearful realization.

Floyd Leech. Out of the billions of people you could ever meet, you ended up bumping…ah no crashing into the most unpredictably violent man in this world. Granted, you’re glad you survived your frankly dumb behavior but to be saved by the man that would be your future downfall was just proof that the world was messing with you for sh*ts and giggles.

“Hey you” you let out a small shriek as you hear Floyd call out to you slowly, reminding you of a shark slowly swimming its way to you for a meal, though really what difference is there? “What’s your nam-“

In an act of reckless desperation (your second one already), you didn’t let Floyd finish his question as you rolled over to the side, twisting your body out from the merman’s grip. Disregarding your absolute messy appearance, you sprinted your way away from Floyd who was still on the ground, rounding the corner of the manor to dash towards your carriage. You’ll tell a servant to inform your brother of your early departure later. You just needed to disappear from the menace’s sight immediately.

Though there was no real hurry as the menace in question chose not to pursue as he preferred to watch you flee in such a cute manner, entertained by the way you sped off like a prey in chase.

“Floyd, are you alright?” a familiar voice called out to him from above to which he then recognised and looked up to see his brother on the second floor balcony, the same general area you appeared from, immediately understanding where you came from.

Huh, you just got more interesting.

Floyd ignored his brother’s concern and asked a question back, “Hey Jade, you got any idea who that flying fishie was?”

The Marquis heir, who noticed the opened balcony doors, managed to glimpse upon the fascinating human who not only took a chance at jumping off the second floor, but also managed to intrigue his brother enough to escape his grasp…for now.

“I cannot be certain but I believe that was the first born of the Linni family. The youngest child is still here if you would like a chat with him” Jade oh so generously offered his knowledge to his brother, knowing full well that Floyd has started itching to sink into something fun. And what kind of brother would he be to interfere in his brother’s joy?

Floyd grinned, his sharp teeth visually showing. He got back onto his feet and with one more look towards the path you fled to, walked the other way, back into the manor and towards the party area where he was giddy to have a chat with your brother. You can flee for now, Floyd loves a worthwhile chase.

[shieldedreams]

you’re all i see (n.s.)

summary ⇾ there are days where you’re harsh on yourself; these are the days neteyam is the most gentle with you. details ⇾ 3,081 words / neteyam sully x na’vi!reader / 🌸 comfort fluff / established relationship / gn!reader / implications to the reader’s past history of losing their parents notes ⇾ you can view this as a ‘reverse’ to this little thing i wrote for neteyam. thank you for the lovely support on my first avatar fic! ✨ [avatar masterlist]

one of the secluded areas in the forest remains two; one older, one younger–sparring, training–mimicking a situation of life and death. neytiri on one end, you on the other. baring out your training against her of accumulated hours of perseverance and determination; blood, sweat and tears–the bloody tears–to constantly improve yourself. 

on one of the nearby trees, sits two mischievous lads... and two just as cheeky ladies. they hadn’t been here long, having their own training but they got here just in time to watch one of the rounds.

their sounds of admiration and gasps quietly fill the air, past the sounds of heavy breathing and grunts as you do your best to try to take neytiri down. those golden nuggets of opportunity come sparingly–having trained with her for years–but they do occur once in a while. every flip, every roll of your body on the ground, every hiss that leaves your lips when she’s just within reach but always a step ahead of you–it all accumulates to creating a chance for you to be able to come up on top. 

by some grace of eywa, just as neytiri plants a kick to your chest, harshly driving your back onto the ground, you’re able to extend your leg out to swipe her ankle a second quicker before she’s able to pull it back. the split second of her losing her footing allows you to tackle her to the ground, swiftly retrieving your dagger to pin it to her neck.

in neytiri's eyes, it sparks her pride and joy. in the eyes of others, the glow of admiration is evident. in the eyes of neteyam, however, the worry only starts to grow when he sees your hands trembling.

neytiri’s senses never lie to her especially when it's being tested right in front of her face. she gapes, watching as you drop the dagger to your side with your eyes flickering away from hers. it’s like she knows what’s going on in your mind even if you don’t say it. no words needed. she carefully maneuvers you off her so she’s able to sit up properly, a hand now pillowed to your cheek as you remain kneeling beside her.

“child... you’ve done so well,” she smiles, even if you can’t see it when your eyes flutter shut as you nuzzle into her hand with a bated breath, “your parents would be so proud of you.”

“...if only i knew what i do now back then,” your voice is a mere whisper that gently rattles neytiri’s heartstrings. she makes a sound, one that makes you hush as she gives you a shake to open your eyes. when you do, that’s when a couple of stray tears fall from your eyes that she brushes away with a faint smile. she makes you lean your forehead against hers and you’re shaking.

“you were too young back then. do not hold yourself responsible for things you cannot change,” she sighs, swallowing thickly. “what’s important now is you can protect yourself, something your parents would have definitely wanted–”

“please,” you cut her off, desperately needing to be alone and she knows of it when your body tenses up. you’ve talked about this with her before, with jake, with people you’ve come to surround yourself like the family you’ve never had but it’ll never be the same. it pains neytiri she can’t do anything about it but comfort you like her own, regardless of your relationship with her children. what she does is respect your decision and what you choose to do when these feelings got overwhelming.

“may i be dismissed?” you ask softly, sniffing as you lap your hand over hers to gently pull it away, “i just...” you take a sharp breath and exhale shakily after: "...i think i need some air.”

neytiri nods without a word, accepting your hand up when you stand on your feet. as the two of you find your footing, she remains holding onto your hand, cupping one of yours with both of hers as she plants a kiss; a silent prayer and blessing–you are our family. the moment is short-lived when she glances over your shoulder and instantly regrets it. much to her dismay, you follow her line of sight by looking over your shoulder to see four familiar looking faces that you’d rather not right now.

“y/n!” tuk waves with a huge grin, “you were so cool!” she chuckles to herself, “oh, you too, mom!”

you face forward to allow neytiri see your panicked face, more so when you hear telltales of them climbing down the trees to get to where you are. it’s like she read your mind and gives you a small nudge as she lets go of your hand. go, she whispers, moving to cover you as it kicks into your mind to start moving. you walk, then run. soon, you’re swinging on the trees and padding on branches to get as far as possible until their voices disappear.

“hey! we could’ve gone together!” lo’ak huffs, crossing his arms as they all huddle around their mother. 

“is y/n okay, mother?” kiri asks, fiddling with her fingers as neytiri curls tuk against her side with one arm, the other reaching up to fix kiri’s hair, “yeah, just... wanted to get some time alone, that’s all.”

she smiles at them until she reaches one who would be the most concern. based on his silence and the way his feet itches on the ground, tail fiddling back and forth, neytiri extends an arm out to place a hand on the shoulder of–”neteyam, maybe it’ll be good to let y/n have some–”she can barely finish her sentence when he’s stubbornly brushing past her hold, feet picking up the pace until he’s climbing the trees and pinning a route in his mind to get to where you are.

past the sounds of leaves fluttering and creaks of branches, she lowers her hand to her side in vain, shaking her head.

“don’t worry, mom,” lo’ak’s the first to speak, “he’ll probably bring y/n back in time for dinner.”

kiri scoffs a laugh and gives the boy a good nudge to the head.

“hey! this is abuse!” lo’ak huffs, looking to his mother, “mom! you’re just gonna let kiri do that to me?”

neytiri sighs and only ruffles his head, then ushering all of them to–”come, let us head back.”

as they begin their walk back together, neytiri glances over her shoulder to see how her son is long gone, presumably close to reaching you better than any of them would have to begin with. it puts a smile to her face; the ease she knows well to have someone just know where you will be in your moment of need. no matter how big, or how small. she rests easy with faith knowing her son and you, will be just fine.

//

when his first idea doesn’t fall through, neteyam switches his course really quick to be able to decipher where you might be. it was always one out of two places. if it wasn’t up high in one specific tree (with secretly marked initials at the bottom of the trunks, masked by the bushes that circles around), then it has to be–”now, what is a pretty thing like you all alone here?”

the sounds of water flowing and quiet breathing greets him. neteyam heaves a deep sigh as he watches you stubbornly hugging your knees to your chest, back against the tree behind you that looms over the small river, eyes refusing to meet his. it’s quiet here, another location that in due time, became yours and neteyam’s to be free; to be vulnerable. another tree marked with the similar looking initials near the root of the bark.

he looks–always has to look at the carving of his initials embedded with yours. only then is he able to take his place next to you. neteyam sits so close to you that he barely leave you any room to move away. begrudgingly, you try to create distance between your body but it only elicits a huff from him. quickly, he puts an arm around your shoulders as he leans in close, pressing his forehead to the side of yours.

it’s a subdued reaction but it comes in waves. first, your shoulders inevitably relax. then, the breath you were holding in releases and he feels the way your body rises to take a deep intake of air and soon, you’re breathing comfortably. it’s as if you could never put up a front around him and he’s delighted. it shows on his face; a smile so wide it puts the moon to shame. irises sparkling that it puts the stars to fade.

ignoring the way he’s looking at you, your eyes continue to stare at the way the water flows in front of you. gently, yet, so carefree with the flowers it takes captive, moving in one direction.

“what do you want?” you mutter under your breath.

“well...” he starts off, “what you want is what i want,”

automatically, you turn your head just a little to meet with his playful gaze. your eyes squint at him, a silent what do you mean? written all over your face. the way your brows knit together in confusion, the small twitch of your lips turning into a frown. it only adds to his happiness as he starts to move with such precision and confidence. it’s as if he knows you’ll allow him to do whatever and it’s exactly that.

for someone so guarded, he’s amused with the way he’s able to put his arms around you, momentarily lifting you up to shift your position forward. it grants him the space behind you as he respectively assumes the position of leaning against the tree trunk behind both of you. then, he spreads his legs out and carefully pull you back to lean against his chest. your body untwists itself, legs stretching out, lapping between neteyam’s and you find yourself resting into him; moulding to the shape of his body.

as your head leans against one of his shoulders, your hands find purchase in his as he cocoons you in. his thumbs brush over the backs of your hands, his calm breathing against your back; your eyelids grow heavy from the comfort that his body brings but so does the weight in your heart when neteyam starts to speak.

“you were amazing out there,” he murmurs, a soft kiss pressed to the side of your head soon after.

he peeks down on you to gauge your reaction and he hates–hates how sad you look despite performing so well. it wasn’t easy going through his mother’s training. him and his siblings out of all people would know. he watches as you open your mouth to speak but you’re silencing yourself before you have the chance to say anything. it’s like there’s a mental debate going on in your mind and he senses it; he hates that as well.

“my love,” he calls for you, the desperation surfacing in between his words, more so in his actions as he squeezes your hands, “talk to me. please.”

he moves his hands from holding yours to hug you tight. both arms draped around your figure, one hand pressed to your hip, the other clutching onto your elbow as he rubs circles to soothe your erratic heart. his eyes remain on you; watching, patiently.

“i feel weak,” you whisper, “i still see them everywhere i go,” your hands are anchored onto neteyam’s forearms and he doesn’t react even when your fingers lightly dig into his skin, “it’s a constant reminder that no matter how good i am now, it’s all useless if i can’t protect those who mattered most.”

neteyam is silent but present. he nudges your head with his and it makes you turn the cheek so you can feel his chin against your forehead. he takes in a deep breath and it beckons you to do the same when you feel his lungs expanding against your back. he doesn’t use words just yet; merely comforting you with his body, his hands, his touch–with his entire being.

his hands continue to gently rub circles wherever he can reach; thumb pads against your hip and elbow, caresses along your arm and along the sides of your body. the idyllic gestures make you feel calm and it injects the kind of warmth into your body like no other.

neteyam only knows it’s time to say something when he sees how your eyes open and meet with his. the hand he has by your elbow lifts up to press against your cheek. his thumb delicately running under the bag lining your eye.

“i can’t imagine what it would be like to go through that all alone,” he sighs, shaking his head, “but now... now you can protect those who matter.” he notices your eyes wavering but you remain looking at him, “fight for those you love now. those that are with you now.”

you find yourself scoffing a laugh and the look of confusion on his face makes it all the more amusing.

“such as yourself, i suppose?” you use a hand to knock the side of his head lightly but he doesn’t react to it, only widening his smile handsomely planted on his face, “hey, i gave you the prompt but you filled in the answer,” he proudly puffs his chest out a bit, making you lean forward as he does, “if it’s me you wish to protect, i’ll be more than willing to accept.”

you try to push him away to no avail, more so when the laughter rubbles from inside your stomach at his antics that seemingly lift up the heavy weight resting on your chest. he only pulls you in tighter, refusing to let you go far. his legs start to case you in, locking you in place as he reflects your smile.

“you’re stupid,” 

“yeah, but i’m your stupid,” he counters.

you roll your eyes, “sounds like something lo’ak would say,”

he deadpans, “can you please not bring up my brother when it’s our alone time?”

it only makes you laugh again and despite you teasing the life out of him, he’d rather you do that if he’s able to see how happiness radiates of your face. it’s addictive; it’s what keeps him going, fuels his determination to perform if it all means he gets to protect the smile on your face.

“if i recall, i wanted to be alone by myself,” you shift in his arms, facing him with your arms crossed in front of your chest. he shows no moves to let you go, only leaning forward to press his forehead on yours. “ah, my love, we are one remember? there is no two between us.”

you uncross your arms to place a hand on his forehead, “did you knock your head or something? you’re being awfully ridiculous today.”

“this is the price i get for being a loving boyfriend?” he scoffs, shaking his head, “you ought to be grateful.”

“i am,” you respond quickly, sitting up to hover your lips just a mere nudge away from sealing the deal. neteyam’s clearly entranced, expecting you to just kiss him already but the way you smile as his defenses are lowered grants you the ability to shoot up from his grasp. “so grateful that i’m going to run away!”

he hisses at you–with no malice, more out of instinct–as he rises to his feet and begins to chase after you. past the initial jumps and climbing up the trees to glide along the branches to full-blown swinging back home, you look over your shoulder to laugh at neteyam who’s not too far behind. his intended sourness is replaced with the sweetness of seeing you so carefree; so light-hearted as you move.

it looks much different than when he saw you running away earlier.

that makes him think that in a way, he does have the ability to make you feel better. just as you do with him. and as cheesy as it sounds, if this is the sight he gets to see, it doesn’t matter where he’s at. as long as you’re the that remains as a constant in his eyes.

((four familiar people can be seen swinging on trees with each other; spider included, this time. all of them are messing about, lightly pushing each other, challenging one or the other to climb higher! let’s see how high you can go! 

their chatter quiets down when two more familiar people come along.

“y/n!” tuk exclaims as she lock gazes with you, despite hanging upside down with her knees tucked on one of the branches. she swiftly sits up with kiri’s aid, now half-jumping into your arms just as you sit on the branch next to her.

“hey, tuger,” you snort, the nickname she once thought i’m not a tiger! you can’t just mix ‘tuk’ and ‘tiger’ together! but now she grows fond of, almost expecting you to say it whenever she sees you now. you mess with her hair and allow her to clutch onto you, the same time kiri sits on your other side and nudges you by the shoulder, “you doing okay?”

you nod with an appreciative smile. having kiri felt like breathing the same air, sometimes. she empathises how you feel the most and you’re eternally grateful of her presence.

“yeah, just... had one of those moments, y’know?”

she nods, leaning against you with a hum, “mhm.”

the three of you sit quietly together on the branch, now watching the three monkeys challenging each other to swing the highest or who can do the most flips?!

surely not you, little bro.

i’m not that little! spider! back me up!

sorry, lo’ak. i have to side with the big bro on this one.

you all suck!

as you relax in the hold of those who care and love you, your eyes meet with one’s gaze who softens almost instantly upon contact. there’s this spark in neteyam’s eyes, even when his attention is divided to the people he’s currently interacting with, he never fails to show you that the second your eyes meet, he’s devoting all his attention on you.

that’s all the reminder you need that you do have people here that matter. that make you feel loved... that make you feel seen. that’s all you need.))

[colourstreakgryffin]

Hi can request a not-yandere Yoriichi X Dying! Reader? Reader got a terrible illness that basically has no cure and they lay in bed losing all motivation to do anything while the illness slowly takes away their life. When Yorichi came to visit them again, they were gone and there was only an empty bed. (means they are already gone/dead.)

(A bit about Yoriichi and reader's past, reader is one of Yoriichi and Michikatsu/kokushibo's childhood friend and was friend with them until reader dies, reader was always there for Yoriichi whenever he is in a rough time/shape and always comforts him like when his mom died, Uta and his unborn child died, Michikatsu gone and more. Yoriichi fell in love with reader a few months after Uta died but never confessed. Reader got their ill a few months after Michikatsu became a demon.)

Aaah! That’s sooooo sad! Why Yoriichi, he doesn’t deserve more pain! But okay, okay. I’ll write this as I cry

Tsugikuni Yoriichi- Terminal Heartbreak

The only thing Yoriichi could lay his eyes on was a empty, hollow futon with the blankets flipped back. The house the futon belonged in was just as dull and lifeless. It broke his soul as he slowly approached the futon, kneeling down and sitting on his knees before it. He just stared down at the creased cooling fabric as his eyes swelled in tears, unable to keep himself composed any longer

First his beloved mother disappeared from his life, his incredible wife and unborn child was taken away, his brother abanonded his humanity to turn to the darkness and now, you can’t even be here for him to say goodbye to… why was this world so cruel to him? You were with him from the very beginning, even as childhood

You weren’t necessarily either of the Tsugikuni Twins’ assigned bride. No, your parents are extremely wealthy and have been business partners with the Tsugikuni family before you were even born. Throughout most of your childhood, you were pretty healthy and kicking but then. Tragically, you contracted a strange disease your hysterical parents couldn’t find the cure for and you were truly dissipating each day. It got so bad that it drifted your past closeness with the Tsugikuni Twins

Michikatsu was furious, you couldn’t play with him and Yoriichi like you use to. You were basically useless in this state and it drove him away whilst Yoriichi stayed. He never left, he never walked away. He sat besides you and did everything he possibly could for you, as he grew up, he was determined to try find… something to help you. Every disease has a cure, they’re must be a cure! Yoriichi always told himself before he tucked you into bed and left the house to continue his fruitless search

In exchange, you adored Yoriichi. He wasn’t that rotten selfish anomaly Michikatsu made him out to be, he was a pure loving man with a golden heart and your view never changed, despite how bad your condition grew. Even though you could barely walk, you always got up to be besides Yoriichi, you basically crawled your way to him when he founded the Demon Slayer Corps and you were there to defend him when he ran into Kibutsuji Muzan but failed to dispose of him

Yoriichi, despite being married to the lovely woman Uta, felt himself falling deep in love with you. It was wrong, he knew it. Especially since he lost Uta and his unborn child only a few months ago, but he can’t help himself. You were one of the first people who ever truly loved Yoriichi, and the fact that you’re gone now hurts his soul tremendously. He can’t do anything to save you, he always did everything right… on his first try!

Yoriichi always suffered and suffered and suffered, and for what did he suffer for? Everything he loved in his life is taken away from him and it’s growing unbearable, is he really suppose to be with anybody? Illness takes away all the people he devotes his life too. It seems that he is a plague among people and anybody who associates with him will end up dead or immoral

Yoriichi stared at the empty futon silently, his calloused fists curled up on his own thighs as his kind screamed at the outrage. Why couldn’t he save you? Your sickness ruined your life and it took away your will to continue forward with genuinely living, to do anything as you laid down and stared blankly. Yoriichi could tell how much you struggled and his heart broke for you over and over

If he could, he’d trade places with you. He’d happily die for you so you could walk and run outside freely with no problems. He’d be livid to give you the freedom of perfect health again… but he just can’t. Yoriichi gave up on medley hopping you’d return back to your home, anytime you came out, he was by your side and helping you. He left for a few hours and your gone, nobody has helped you. He doesn’t know where you could have gone

Yoriichi does want to look for you, you could still be alive somewhere but then again. You could have taken the easy way out when his back was turned, to get away from all the pain your illness tortures you will. He wouldn’t be able to stop it if he wasn’t around and that could be the case as he gently grabs the futon blanket, lifting it to his chest whilst tears poured down his defined cheeks

He couldn’t keep himself together any longer as he cried, his head dropped down to brush over the blanket as his heart shattered before him. Yoriichi fell into a deep slumber by the futon, he cried himself to exhaustion as his emotions were truly haywire now. It was too early. You left him too early… he never even got the chance to tell you…

That he loves you

[nightowlwriting]

summary: (he never kisses her left hand, always her right, because she once told him that she’s nothing more than the anchor on her hand and the history of the fight with the archdemon so many years earlier.)

word count: 2.2k

warnings: subdrop, mentions of past child abuse, torture, and allusions to past almost-sexual assault (no assault occurred or is described in the fic)

note: i haven't written in a long time, so this is me easing myself into ktober24. also this takes place in MY canon for the dragon age series which heavily diverges from bioware's canon. eventually i'll get around to novelizing the warriorverse (my warrior playthroughs of the game) but with veilguard coming out in less than thirty days that will have to wait.

title credit: sufjan stevens

kinktober masterlist: here

amalia cousland: here

mobile masterlist - request - ao3

Cullen Rutherford is a strategist at heart and a man of his word. Born from a lineage of farmers, put through trials and tribulations that most men can only imagine - all to rise to the Commander of the Inquisition’s forces. Not without struggle, of course, especially as he falls deeper into his Lyrium withdrawal. But those struggles, the demons that come for him at night, and the gnarled roots of addiction inside of him don’t stop him from being the man that Amalia always knew he would grow into.

She remembers being a child in Honnleath, before the blight and before Ves and before shedding the heavy Sulzbacher name for the equally heavy Cousland name. She remembers being friends with Rosalie first, one year her senior, and then Branson next. Branson was a few years younger than Amalia, but she got along with him fine. Mia came next and then, finally, Cullen Rutherford.

She remembers that he was three years older than her and golden. Golden hair, skin touched by the long hours with his father and farm hands in the fields, and fundamentally benevolent. She first saw him through a curtain of her then-black hair after Branson had tripped her as she trotted alongside Rosalie, smiling down at her. She was only six at the time, to Cullen’s nine, but she knew. She knew that he’d go on to do great things, knew that he’d escape Honnleath like she wished that she could, that he would find a great love like in the stories her mother used to tell.

The world seems so simple when you’re less than a decade old.

Now, though, nothing has really changed. Amalia is still friends with Rosalie and Branson, though only by the letters she sends and receives from the South Reach. Cullen is still all of those things he was as a child, except now he’s been tested by the Maker in tragedy, war, and now one of the Magisters who first entered the Golden City. Selfishly, she’s glad that it’s Cullen. She’s almost thankful to the Maker and Andraste for all of the shit they’ve mucked Cullen through - and the shit that they’ve mucked her through - because it brings the two of them to now, this exact moment in time.

The truth of what nearly happened at Fort Drakon ten years ago had come out at the war table, but Cullen hadn’t looked at her any differently. They’d had the night together at the Winter Palace, after Amalia’s disastrous decision to dule that Duchess in front of the entire court, and Cullen remained stalwartly at her side. And then, when she’d gone up to his office to try and escape her meddling family he’d asked her to go back with him.

To Ferelden. To the Redcliffe arling.

To Honnleath.

She had been hesitant. Matthias surely wasn’t still there, but Amalia also didn’t want to risk seeing her father again, no matter the circumstances. She also didn’t want to see where so many of her happiest childhood memories took place - always at the Rutherford farm or sitting underneath the shade that Shale provided and never inside of her home - after the blight and after ten years of abandonment. But Cullen smiled so sweetly at her, took her right hand and pressed a kiss to her scarred knuckles, and said please.

(He never kisses her left hand, always her right, because she once told him that she’s nothing more than the Anchor on her hand and the history of the fight with the archdemon so many years earlier.)

Cullen had taken her to the lake, had given her his coin, and then taken her back to Honnleath where the bulk of the force they’d traveled with had finished the job they set out to do. Amalia doesn’t mind that they’ve gone through the small home, and dungeon beneath it, that had been her childhood abode. Doesn’t mind that they’ve taken her grandfather’s writings and research and loaded them in heavy boxes on the back of the bronto-drawn carts. She’s not a mage, just mage-blooded enough to pull off rituals as seen by the time she spent with Morrigan’s grimoire and the survival of her Grey Warden siblings. Amalia, at heart, is a warrior. If her grandfather’s works will help the Inquisition mages, then they shall be taken back to Skyhold.

It helps that Wilhelm Sulzbacher was a bastard of a man to everyone in his life, including his elven wife and golem. Amalia has nothing left for him, or her father, Matthias. It helps that he was also a bastard of a man to his elven wife, and elfblooded daughter. It’s almost cathartic to see the Inquisition soldiers - Amalia’s soldiers - carting everything up out of the dank basement she was so terrified of.

Cullen had let her watch for a few moments, standing in the spot that Shale used to stand in, before he took her back to the Rutherford house. It had been cleaned, probably at his request, and then…

Well, and then Cullen made good on his promise.

When she’d been nervous at the Winter Palace, he hadn’t pushed her into sex. They’d shared pleasure, yes, but not sex. Amalia hadn’t wanted their first time to be because of a duel and she agreed with Cullen’s sentiment: neither wanted their first time laying together to be in Orlais. They’re Ferelden at heart, and no amount of satin bedding or hearty foods could convince them otherwise. He’d promised her as he brought her off on his fingers that she’d know nothing but pleasure from him. He’d take her back across the border into Ferelden, he’d find a place comfortable for both of them, and if she wished it they would lay together.

Of course, being in the throes of an orgasm made Amalia agree to anything he was saying. Cullen Rutherford is a strategist at heart and a man of his word. As soon as the missive had crossed his desk about needing Wilhelm’s research, he knew that it was of the upmost importance that Wilhelm’s granddaughter, Amalia, be there when it was retrieved.

The fact that he had his childhood bedroom prepared, cleaned, and fitted with more expensive sheets before their arrival is none of anyone’s concern.

Except Amalia’s, but she’s not very concerned about that. She’s more focused on the way his skin feels against hers, hot and slick, and the way that pleasure still lays heavy in her limbs. Cullen has her pulled as closely as possible to him, legs tangled, as his hands roam up and down her bare back. He has been right when he’d told her that she needn’t worry with him. When Cullen had tried to press into her body for the first time and Amalia had flinched - barely noticeable but she knows that he notices everything about her - they’d prepared more.

(Prepared, of course, meaning that he’d put his mouth on her again until she peaked once more.)

There was never a moment in which Amalia Cousland felt like Cullen Rutherford was just fucking her to own her or taking what he wanted without considering what she wanted. His body over hers, so broad and muscular and golden, hadn’t felt like those moments before Alistair had kicked the door to the machine room down. Cullen’s hands handn’t felt like brands upon her skin - well, they had, but the good kind of brands. The kind of brands Amalia can see herself becoming addicted to. The way Cullen held her as he pressed into her hadn’t made her panic with claustrophobia or cry out in terror.

Amalia isn’t even sure she can call what they did fucking. That seems too… Primal of a word for what they shared. Love-making, maybe. It had felt like love, and she knows that she loves Cullen but can he love her? If he doesn’t, could he? Her past weighs heavy on her shoulders, and she can’t even escape it. Everyone knows the story of the girl who took the final strike on the archdemon at Denerim, of the Grey Warden who refused to let her die, of the Ashes that brought the girl back to life. The scar on the left side of her jaw, from just below her mouth to underneath her ear, is proof that she did die at the hands of the archdemon, that when Ves used the Ashes of Andraste leftover from healing the Arl of Redcliffe that they not only brought Amalia back to life but darned her face back together and left a mottled line of proof.

And now she’s the Inquisitor. The Herald of Andraste. She half believes it herself, because why else would the Ashes have worked? Why else would the Joining not have taken?

Why else would Ves and Alistair, both set on keeping her away from the Conclave and the fact that their Calling was shouting at them to be there, sent her with Bethany and Carver to see if they could find the other Wardens?

Why else would she have been the only survivor? Another moment of death and loss, and Amalia is still standing.

Before she knows it, she’s crying. She doesn’t want to worry Cullen, he already carries so much on his shoulders, but she can’t stop. Before long the heady, heavenly feeling of being in his arms, of knowing him and his body, twists and sours into panic and sorrow.

“Amalia?” Cullen asks, pulling only slightly away from her. Just enough to see her face, really, and she wonders what she looks like. Hair and eyes leeched of color because of her brush with death, scarred face, Anchor… She can’t possibly be the woman he thought he’d be in bed with. The woman that he thought he’d end up betrothed to. “Amalia, darling, what’s wrong?” His voice shakes and he cups her face with one hand, tilting her head up until she’s looking at him.

And, well, she can’t let him think he’s done something wrong.

“I am,” She finally warbles, shaking her head as best she can when she’s laying on her side tangled up in him, “I’m wrong. I should have died in Denerim, and I should have died during the Joining, and I should have died at the Conclave. How can you stand to look at me, Cullen?” Her voice breaks as she begins to cry in earnest, tears blurring his face as he looks at her.

“Oh, darling,” He whispers, bringing her close enough that his lips can press against her forehead, and then her nose, and finally on the jagged scar that reminds her of what she was willing to give up to protect Ves and Alistair. “I don’t care what should have happened,” Cullen finally says, pressing himself as close as possible, “I only care what has happened. Everything leading up to this moment, with you in my arms, is all that matters.”

“But we’ll never be free of it,” Amalia allows herself to sink into him, to press her nose against the side of his neck and drown in oakflower, eldermoss, and the faint scent of leather. “We’ll never be free from people knowing who I am, what I’ve done. I don’t care if it’s all good, if they think that I’m the Herald of Andraste. I just want a normal life. I want you to have a normal life, and I can’t give you that.”

Cullen shifts and for a brief second, Amalia is afraid that she’s chased him away. He only sets her down on the mattress and disentangles himself so that he can prop himself up over top of her. His hand cups her neck, large enough that his thumb can press and lightly rub back and forth over her scar. He smiles down at her, his own scar pulling slightly as he does so.

“You needn’t worry about me,” Cullen kisses her briefly, “Especially not about whether or not I want normal. I don’t care about normal, Amalia. Maker’s breath, the only thing I care about having is you. That’s all that matters to me.” She hiccups, tears still trailing over the sides of her face as she looks up at Cullen, and tries to believe him.

“But would you be happy with me?” Amalia asks, voice pitifully quiet. “If we were to stay together past the Inquisition, I mean.”

“If?” He asks instead of answering, “If? Amalia, I am in love with you. I would lay down my life for you. I don’t know what will happen past the Inquisition, I don’t know what will happen in ten years or twenty, but I know that I want you by my side.” He looks so serious, golden, that Amalia’s breath is taken away. “I want to be by your side.” He says, softer than he spoke before.

“You love me?” She asks, reaching for his face, “You love me?”

Cullen smiles crookedly, and it’s like the sun. It almost fully chases away the storm clouds that had settled in her chest. They’ll never truly be gone, not with what she’s seen and what she’s been through, but in Cullen’s arms and his bed, they don’t seem so scary. They don’t seem so all-consuming like they had been only moments before.

“Of course I love you,” Cullen says, “I can’t imagine a world in which I don’t love you.”

Amalia beams, then, even though her smile only reaches half of her mouth. It doesn’t bother her like it normally does because Cullen is kissing her, surging against her, pressing her into the soft cushion of the mattress underneath her. She lets him take her again, or maybe she shares herself with him again, and for a moment the world doesn’t seem so scary.

[xiaosonlybeloved]

Forever Together~ Kaeya

featuring:- Kaeya tags:-fluff, a teeny bit of angst if you squint, semi-modern au(?), soulmate au where you get a golden band on your 18th birthday which changes into a silver bracelet like thingy when you properly meet your soulmate, kaeya calls you princess once a/n:- this is my entry for the summer santa event by @solarisfortuneia , thanks for letting me take part and sorry for being so late! this one is dedicated to @satoruxx i hope both you and mika like this :)

word count:- 1.3k

masterlist

You grow more excited as the clock nears midnight. “Only five more minutes, Kaeya!” You exclaim, tugging his hand and pointing at the clock. Your childhood best friend shakes his head, amused at your unusual excitement. “You’re really that excited just for your soulmate band? How funny. I mean, you’ve always been a soft romantic, so I’m not really surprised.” He chuckled, the sound filling your room. Both of you glance towards the golden band already present on Kaeya’s wrist, showing that he hadn’t met his soulmate yet. It had appeared, as it always does for everyone, on his 18th birthday. 

None of you said it, none of you knew the other was thinking the same thing. But both of you wondered, if… If you two could possibly be each other’s soulmates.

Both of you had harboured feelings for each other since you were children. It was cute at first. But then as time passed, as you two started to notice each other more, grow up side by side, saw all sides of each other, that harmless puppy love started growing into ‘small’ crushes, even as you two were content to remain best friends. Best friends who were practically attached at the hip, frequently did sleepovers and study sessions, hung out a lot, and always took advantage of the couples discount system. Deep down, both of you wondered if you could ever be more.

The chance of Kaeya being your soulmate was a one in a thousand. So, what harm did it do to imagine the what-ifs of a nearly impossible situation, you both thought, allowing your minds to wander.

The thought of being Kaeya’s soulmate excited you. But it scared Kaeya. 

It wouldn’t be easy to love you officially. It’s not because he couldn’t or didn’t want to. He had no idea what the future would bring, but for now, he really did love you, the way you did. But he was terrified what a relationship would bring, not just to you, but to any possible partner of his, which is why he wanted to avoid meeting his soulmate. He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to maintain a relationship with his ways. And he was scared of his past.

Kaeya and his dad had fled from their home nation, Khaenriah, when it was on the brink of utter ruin because of the wars that had ravaged the world. Fled to Mondstadt, a stable country with abundant beauty, one that had already risen up after the war. There, his father had disappeared, leaving him with a caring adoptive family. 

It had been hard for him to adjust and adapt to this new life, especially since he had just been a mere child when all this happened. And he wouldn’t have been able to, if not for you.

You were his neighbour- still are, in fact. He remembered when he’d timidly ventured out into the gardens of his new house a few days after his life had been uprooted. You had noticed him wandering alone very quickly from your own garden, tugging at your mom’s hand to point at him. He’d been scared then, but then you ran ever to him, eyes sparkling, asking him if he was new here, and if he wanted to play with them, adding that their family were very good friends with his new family.

That was the beginning of their friendship, the one that had led them here, staring at the clock at night, waiting for it to strike twelve. And Kaeya was scared, scared because he’d heard many rumours of whatever remained of the Khaenri’ans searching. Searching for what, he didn’t know. Maybe it wasn’t even real. 

But he was still afraid of the possibilities.

And yet, a part of him wished to love you freely, without fear, be with you, be your soulmate. 

The internal conflict was tearing him apart.

The clock struck twelve, signifying the start of your birthday.

You grinned excitedly, holding up your hand, on which a golden band had materialised. But then both your eyes widened, as it turned silver, before reshaping into a swirling silver pattern, almost like a bracelet, with a half heart in the middle. 

The same happened to Kaeya’s band, the formerly gold band having changed into a silver bracelet, same as yours, with the other half of the heart.

It was confirmed- you two were soulmates.

You two stared at each other, eyes wide and confused. It was silent in the room for a while, as you two let the fact sink in.

I suppose it was to be expected, after all, you two had stuck with each other from the moment you met.

A part of you was incredibly happy, now that you didn’t have to hide your feelings any more. However, another part of you was worried for Kaeya and how he’d take this. I mean, what sort of best friends- soulmates- would you two be, if you didn’t know each others’ deepest fears? You knew what he was afraid of. And you didn’t blame him for it in any way whatsoever.

You were the first to speak up, gently taking both his hands in yours. Something you had done a thousand times before, and yet, it felt different this time. “You alright, Kaeya?”

He slowly nodded, eyes staring off. You understood his internal turmoil and the fact that he’d need time, and didn’t press him. “Do you need space?” you asked softly. “To process this? I don’t mind if you do.” Finally he looked at you. There were a multitude of emotions swirling in those beautiful periwinkle eyes of his- confusion, surprise, shock, fear, and more, as they met yours. “You won’t be upset?” He asked quietly. You shook your head almost immediately. “No, Kae, I won’t. I understand why.” You said reassuringly, squeezing his hands with yours to reaffirm your statement. 

“I’ll see you later then..?Once I’ve sorted everything out?” “Sure, take as much time as you want, don’t rush, I’m always here for you, ‘kay? Now let me drop you off home.” You smiled at him.

The next evening, Kaeya texts you to meet him in your regular meeting spot- the swings in the park next to your houses. On text, he sounded like he’d made up his mind, causing you to be a bit nervous as you headed over, albeit a bit early.

You were just swinging gently, lost in your thoughts, when Kaeya walks up to you. He seems to be holding something behind his back, as you look at him curiously. “You alright now?” You question. “Yup.” he grinned back, that easygoing, charming smile that was reserved specifically for you back on his pretty face. “Got everything figured out now, and I have something for you too.” He smiles, bringing out the gift-wrapped package he had been holding behind his back. You chuckle, relieved, as you quickly open it. You stop short when you see what it is that he has given you.

“Forgot to say this, but happy birthday, [Y/N].” He said softly, bending down a bit to take the beautiful silver necklace that had your engraved to put it around your neck. “There.” he said, leaning back to admire you. “Now it matched with our bracelets.” He added, his words meaningful.

This was his way of giving you confirmation. “Let’s give this thing a try, huh? After all, if anything ever happens, I’ll be here to protect my beloved princess, won’t I?” He smirked at his successful attempt to make you flustered as he pulled you up from the swing, holding one of your hands gently in his.

[wilhelmina-tepes]

This man makes me think and write things I've never written about before. Praise kink, sorta kinda breeding kink if you squint your eyes, female receiving oral sex, mentions of other sexual positions, reader insert. I haven't posted smutty fanfic in a long time so please forgive me.

You had never considered it. As Adrian had spoken about wanting a family you initially dismissed the idea. Having children was not something you had wanted, ever. The vague idea had been there but never with other lovers, more the fact that everyone expected you to have children because you had the parts for it. But after spending months with Adrian and the way he talked to the children of the village, your body deeply imagined it, pressing your consciousness to not dismiss the idea and the blossoming desire in you. 

“ Do you want to have a baby with me? His deep voice was soothing and gentle, as his golden eyes peered into your soul pleading while he sipped his wine at dinner.

The question was honest. His eyes said it all. He loved you and for him, that love surpassed all else but he would always wonder what life would be like were you carrying his seed in your womb.

“I’m sorry.” He looked as if you had already denied him yet you hadn’t said a thing. “ But I would love to make you a mother but if you don’t want….I know the world we live in is not safe but I dare to imagine it so with you.”

Your body reacted in a surprising way. It warmed to the idea of a child…his child… growing inside you. You interrupted his clearly practiced request with a kiss and begged him to breed you right there on the spot. Why did it feel so right with him? He was so eager that the dinner dishes were thrown into the floor as he laid you out on the dinner table and fucked you properly all while resisting the urge to nip at your neck but you encouraged him to… if you were going to have his child you wanted all of him.

  Lovemaking for the next few months had become a passionate endeavor not just to fuck and be satisfied with one another, though there was plenty of that evident in the bite marks that covered your body, especially the ones on the insides of your thighs. He enjoyed devouring you regardless of who took the lead that night. Promises to take care of you, give you whatever you needed, to ensure that you were safe and happy carrying the life inside you were daily prayers from him. 

So it shouldn’t have surprised you that when penetration became uncomfortable in the last months of your pregnancy he was more than happy to forgo his own pleasure just to see you unravel. He would take his time exploring your body. Slowly parting your folds, fingers, and tongue working so diligently to please you. Adrian would kiss you and tease you until you were begging him. His sharp teeth running across your skin but never sinking into you, the fear of hurting you while with child was a hard rule for him so you forwent love bites for the time being. But his mouth made up for it in so many other ways, kissing down your chest slowing only to suck at your nipples even when your breasts had become full with milk. He wouldn’t drink but he was not concerned if a little dribbled out on his tongue. The look in his eyes said he enjoyed it but would never ask.

  Long elegant fingers slid across the tight skin of your swollen belly followed by his soft lips and a gentle drag of his sharp nails. A tiny reminder of how your days of animalistic sex weren’t over. Just on pause.

“ God I love watching you come.” Golden eyes praising you in his loving gaze. His warm breath across your mound, a delicate kiss right above the places aching for him the most.

“You’re so beautiful. The way your back arches as if you are possessed by pleasure. I love knowing that I am the cause of that possession….” 

He would stop and resume his attention across your thighs until you melted. Which was part of the plan. He loved the taste of you. You were now very aware of his desire to pleasure you, you opened to him and let him drink his fill not of your blood but your nectar. He would run his tongue slowly across the most inner and intimate folds before dipping inside you to lap at your core. His name would echo through the halls of the castle as you cried out clutching his hand as he reached for yours knowing that you wanted to touch him in some small way. 

“ The way you look splayed out for me, your skin blushing down your face and neck to those delicious plump breasts.” He would urge you toward oblivion with the sound of his voice. 

Pulling away from where he had been tonguing your clit to speak his words of encouragement. His fingers would replace his lips as he pulled you against his lean naked form to sit in his lap while he slowly and reverently finger fucked you. But he was always gentle, never too deep, and if it was too much to bear he would run loving circles around your clit until you cried out his name. 

 “Be a good girl and come for me, that’s it.” He would pull you up until you stared into his eyes. “ Let me watch.” He would whisper as if he wasn’t the one causing you the most intense pleasure. His hard cock would be against your ass, the tip covered in his arousal and still he would beg you. “I want to feel you spasm on my fingers.” 

And as you climaxed pulling at his long, pale hair he would continue. 

“ My god you are ravishing like this, absolutely undone. I don’t want to stop.”

Sometimes he would finish himself while you watched, occasionally you would licking the tip, but once again though he was afraid that any undo stress would be bad for you and the baby. Other times he seemed content just to see you climax in his arms. His last words were always the same as you drifted off to sleep in orgasmic bliss. 

“ I promise to kiss away the pain whenever you wish…. even after you have given birth.”

You knew he meant it too. He would wait patiently until he you were ready but did not want to miss the opportunity to pleasure you with his mouth. 

“ I love making you come. I think it might be my favorite thing.”

As your daughter was asleep in his childhood room, he would lay you out in front of the fireplace in your bedroom, eager to lick the soreness away until he could be inside you again.

[hiimweird3]

Random Ethgoesboom head canons

I know I mostly post Sams/laes stuff but damnit Ethgoesboom is a channel that will live in my heart and mind rent free forever so here's head cannons I made at work not all characters though some will have more then others

Everyone: every character who's possessed by a childs spirit lost big parts of their personalities after they were killed and when Afton was confronted by them for the first time he didn't recognize them as the kids he killed at first

Freddy: Freddy sometimes wants to give his microphone to Bonnie Chica and even foxy somedays because he really wants to give them the chance to shine in the spotlight, once when candy tied both of them up Freddy tried calling everyone for help because he wasn’t in the mood react to anything that day but when bonnie foxy and chica came to check on them they just laughed and took pictures before leaving, the big part of Gabriel's personality that got lost after his death was that he was someone who couldn't ever be in the spotlight because he was afraid that people would laugh at him but he would look up to Freddy because of how confident he was so when he possessed Freddy he gained that confidence

Foxy: foxy is banned from playing bored games after he threw the monopoly board and broke the window of the office,the big part of Fritz's personality that was lost was that he was extremely smart when it came to marine biology and would always say if he couldn't be a pirate when he grew up he was at least going to do something involving the sea so he can always be with it had he grow he would've done anything he could to clean the ocean

BB: BB is possessed by the soul of the biological little brother of Fritz so he and foxy are actually siblings and when alive both saw the soul in JJ as a little sister, actually no personality was lost from him because he died extra young so there wasn’t much to lose

Bonnie: Bonnie is banned from playing Uno with foxy for his own safety after he annoyed foxy so much that foxy punched him very hard and broke one of his teeth and to answer the question they both lost to cupcake and had to make Chica and cupcake pizza for a week, the big part of Jeremy's personality that was lost is that he was very much a fighter yes he was a comedic child but pick on his friends and family and he will break your nose (yes this is based on the theory that Jeremy died fighting)

You’re probably thinking that chica is next but I believe in saving the best for last so she will be last, love you chica :3 💛

Golden Freddy: Goldie has dreams of if he and everyone were never killed by Afton and sometimes he would wake up crying because of how much he wished it was real, Goldie also had nightmares of not being able to protect everyone from the nightmares or springtrap (I have honestly no idea what part of his soul’s personality would be lost since idk if eth’s doing the two soul theory or not so unfortunately he won’t have that part puppet too)

The puppet: much like Goldie puppet had dreams where no one was killed and also has nightmares of not being able to protect them but something different is that they also dream of the day everyone’s souls are finally free and they can have fun and finally relax with their families and other friends in the afterlife

The cupcake crew: whenever the cupcakes are extra protective especially to their chica’s they growl and bark since they’re possessed by dogs (watch the movie again and try telling me that cupcake isn’t a dog I f🐬king dare you) ,the reason chica can understand the cupcakes/ all small food animatronics is because of how much Susie loved animals especially her own dog when they were killed their souls connected in a way that allows her to finally understand what her bestiest friend and it allowed her to understand other animatronic possessed by pets

(Sorry toys, phantoms, nightmares, etc I got nothing for y’all)

Main fowa together: due to how long they’ve been with each other they all see each other as siblings chica being the youngest of them but in life some of them had actual siblings (like bb) and the ones with siblings will sit with each other and talk about what they remember about said sibling, very rarely they would refer to each other by their real names especially when talking about something serious (example:

Foxy: Freddy you need to talk to us something is clearly upsetting you

Freddy:guys I’m fine…

Bonnie:but you’re clearly not Freddy..

Freddy:…I’m fine i swear-

Chica: Fred-…Gabriel!..please talk to us we want to help you with whatever is hurting you..)

Chica 💛: chica has pizza hidden in vents all over the pizzeria that she eats though out the day and she eats all of them and surprisingly none gets spoiled because she always remembers where they are, she’s terrified of bugs and actually sprays herself with bug spray after her cockroach infestation, (had to give some happyish ones before the main point sorry long and kinda sad) Susie lost basically all of her personality when she died due to her A. Possessing a animatronic who’s supposed to be gluttonous and B. Being killed on a empty stomach she didn’t eat breakfast because she was saving room for pizza and birthday cake then her dog got hit by a car and she was too sad to eat anything before being killed, when alive Susie was very smart, and if she wasn’t going to be a veteran when she grew she could’ve been a amazing actress where she’d get the spotlight but now she doesn’t get the spotlight and her knowledge is gone due to being in constant pain from a empty stomach that can never be filled (this also is my own FNAF theory for Susie too not just for egb)

That’s all I got fowa now I’ll try thinking of more later thanks fowa reading

[nvrcissasm]

in front of my  m o t h e r  and my sisters, i pretend  L O V E  is cheap and  VULGAR. i act like it’s a  s i n  - i pretend that  l o v e  is for women on a dark path. but at night i  D R E A M  of a love so heavy it makes my spine throb - i dream up a LOVER who makes love like he is separating  s a l t  from water…

Full Name: Narcissa Elladora Malfoy Name Origin: Unlike her sisters and most of her relatives, Narcissa was not named after a star or constellation, instead after the Greeks. Narcissa is a name of Greek origin meaning daffodil. It is feminine of Narcisse, which comes from the legend of the beautiful Greek youth Narcissus, who became enamoured of his own reflection - hence “narcissism”. Nicknames: Cissa or Cissy, but only to those closest to her. She does prefer Cissa over Cissy though, as it sounds less childish. Age: Twenty Six Birthday: 23rd December, Capricorn Gender & Pronouns: Cis Woman, She/Her Sexuality: Heterosexual Relationship Status: Married to Lucius Malfoy Patronus: Narcissa’s Patronus would take the form of a Tiger Boggart: Narcissa’s Boggart is Death Wand Type: 13″, Elm Wood with a Dragon Heartstring Core Occupation: Socialite and Philanthropist, Dark Artefacts Curator Affiliation: Death Eater Ally Face Claim: Florence Pugh Key Information: Please see below the cut

𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝘾𝙊𝙉𝙉𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 ;;   can be found by clicking here

𝙋𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙀𝙍𝙀𝙎𝙏 𝘽𝙊𝘼𝙍𝘿 ;;   can be found by clicking here

𝘼𝙎𝙎𝙊𝘾𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉𝙎 / 𝘼𝙀𝙎𝙏𝙃𝙀𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙎 ;;   ears that are always listening, rooms with high ceilings, the stony features of a face unwilling to give away any information, ‘clever as the devil and twice as pretty’, summer evenings and winter mornings, perfect paper creases, stargazing, ‘you’re like snow, beautiful but cold’, white linen, black roses protected by their thorns, the underestimated sister, the sweetest of smiles and eyes that are always watching.

𝙁𝘼𝙈𝙄𝙇𝙔 𝘼𝙉𝘿 𝙐𝙋𝘽𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙄𝙉𝙂 ;;   The youngest of three daughters, Narcissa was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and an appearance that would instantly set her apart from the rest of her immediate family. With her golden locks and piercing blue eyes, she was destined to stand out in photographs, contrasting the raven hair and dark features that were commonly associated with the Black family. At no point did this ever put her at a disadvantage however. Only a moment spent in her company is enough to see that the Black blood runs deep in her veins.

As a child, she was the princess of the family, in her fathers eyes especially, and it was from a very young age that she started being taught all that there was to know about how to be the perfect young woman. Narcissa picked everything up easily, whilst continuing to enjoy the finer things in life, and that was exactly what Cygnus and Druella wanted for their daughter - to become a respected Pureblood woman with the world at her disposal.

Growing up as part of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was, of course, not all sunshine and rainbows. Like many of the other families in their society, the Black home is full of secrets, scandal and betrayal. You name it, and chances are at least one of them have been accused of it. Of course they have their own way of dealing with it - Narcissa has already lived to witness one of her cousins and her own sister be disowned completely and she knows it is not the first time that it has happened. The fear of this happening to her for not being good enough, or for doing something wrong was instilled early in her life and it continues to hang over her to this very day.

𝘼𝙏𝙏𝙀𝙉𝘿𝙄𝙉𝙂 𝙃𝙊𝙂𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙏𝙎 ;;   When it came to attending Hogwarts, there was no doubt that Narcissa would be sorted in to Slytherin House. The Sorting Hat barely touched her head before making its decision, and it was with her fellow snakes that she thrived. She worked hard to achieve good grades, and being away from the watchful eyes of her parents, she was able to find her own independence and sense of identity. Of course it never strayed far from what her parents wanted for her, but she was determined to ensure things were done on her terms as well.

𝘾𝘼𝙍𝙀𝙀𝙍 ;;   Although Narcissa is unemployed and has no need to find herself a job, she has always had a passion for dark artefacts and cursed objects, and has found herself to be somewhat of a collector of both. Only a small handful of people know about her collection, but it is something she takes pride in expanding. She has also been known to source and sell on a few objects here or there. When she is not expanding her collection, Narcissa considers herself as a proud socialite and philanthropist, publicly supporting a number of causes.

𝘼𝙁𝙁𝙄𝙇𝙄𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙊𝙉 𝙄𝙉 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙒𝘼𝙍 ;;   When it comes to the war, Narcissa has always followed suit with the majority of her family and naturally agreed with the ideals of Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters. Most of the company she kept was often from the inner circle, but she knew very early on that she would never agree to take the dark mark, despite being encouraged on numerous occasions to do so.

[marybatson]

Hello!! As one of THE best marvel family bloggers on this whole website I was wondering about your thoughts on if you'd want a story about the MF as adults (original group of N52 group). Current DC is soooo averse to anything that might have consequences or change the status quo so it's probably moot. I just think Billy in particular (with his loner tendencies and inherent, almost untouchable goodness) has the potential for some very interesting stories around identity after he's been Captain-ing for a decade-plus as he becomes less and less grounded? On the other hand, I could see the argument that the kid- to-adult-hero is so essential to the premise to be removed. Also, would your answer change based on which version of the character(s) we're talking about. Like is it more or less interesting in the versions where B and CM are seperate entities? Anyway love your takes on the MF and DC in general!!!💜

first of all that’s the sweetest thing thank u for even thinking of me ;; I swear I talk out of my ass all the time but im glad u can enjoy this nonsense!

second! that is a very good question and one that ive definitely asked myself before. before i answer i hope its ok if i go on a small tangent first lol. its the tism in me.. UNDER THE CUT BC I HAVE RAMBLING PROBLEMS

the inherent problem with hero comics is that there is no definite thing like a “post-series” or epilogue type of story because, typically, they just never end. that’s something that can be compelling but also pretty detrimental imo especially when a good story or arc has a fully satisfying ending, complete with characters and storylines developed in just the way you wanted. that can all obvs change in a matter of years depending on the next writer or event. next chapter-type stories are difficult to achieve unless you’re a legacy of some kind. if these were characters in a novel or something much more linear, i think we wouldn’t even have to ask these questions.

im just saying all this bc it kind of informs how I like to speculate about comic characters - what is the ideal plot to development to ending for x character? for billy and his family, if you want a legitimate answer it’s just that I wish anything plot-worthy they achieve would only be in their time as they are now, as kids. bc im insane ofc ive turned this particular sentiment around in my head, and I really do think that the story itself at its core, the general magic of it, is way more compelling when they’re children going through tasks an adult would usually undertake. it’s a story where a child who has a limited amount of power bc of their situation at the sound of a word receives more power he ever really needs. it isnt necessarily a jaime reyes or young justice type of story about realistic kid hero interpretations, it’s simply a child’s fairytale fantasy. at inception captain marvel’s appeal was because while he was a kid, he was also respected as an adult and as competent as one. that’s why dc’s own evolution from the golden age (for children) to where it is now as a predominantly adult hobby can never seem to place captain marvel and his family in the right place.

tbh i wouldn’t really be interested in a story where billy and the others were grown up at all, because then they would just be. adult heros. ive always thought the “ideal” end is the one where they willingly somehow choose to relieve themselves of the power and grow up happily and content without it because it’s not needed once they’re adults. the “wendy darling chooses to grow up and not stay in neverland bc she wants more than what magic can give her” kinda deal. but that’s definitely not a compelling hero story…maybe.

im trying not to let this be such a cop out answer, but if what I just said were written as a story, and if I wanted it to be a story that included the marvel fam as adults - it would be the classic coming of age story. im thinking any plot in the world with crazy world-ending villain(s) story complete with a misc hero team-up could happen, and the real story begins maybe halfway in that where the kids realize that this is the end all be all. and the point is that they’d be okay with it. so what happens happens and maybe there are developments in-between coming to terms with the end of it but the perfect end is them, together, and being okay. there are no consequences to having had the power or having lost them. everything they’d gone through while having the power could have been tumultuous and difficult, but the children are always protected. in the end, we don’t know what age they live up to, or if they decide to become nonpowered heroes or if they stay a family. I really believe in the power of an open ending once everything is resolved. and for the marvel family, I think their best ending is an uneventful adulthood after such a wild childhood. it’s the typical kind of ending i think every chosen one child deserves in fiction (rip to percy jackson)

again…this is just me and my own thoughts. and im sorry it is SO lame and predictable. other more interesting routes than this if they just continued having the power till adulthood is that they can be pretty public and free with their identities. the power is intertwined with them. but it’s not like they’re particularly important in-universe or special, more than others anyway. they just have more experience now.

(idk if it would necessarily make much of a difference depending on the versions of the characters we’re talking abt either!! I think in general I just talk about them like my preferred combination of all iterations so it becomes just a question in personality atp! lately I have really liked the separate entity thing with cap/billy but somehow I prefer it with him than with the others.. another long tangent I could go on abt LOL)

[taricdarkmorn]

February Daily Writing Challenge Day 3 - Consequence

Going along with this storyline: Prologue -> Here Fio Day 1 -> Here Xylaes Day 1 -> Here Pyraelia Day 1 -> Here

"Hey. Weird question. Do you have some time this week to come out to an Estate in Quel'thalas and get rid of a soul that's taken up shop in the body of the noblewoman that lives here? Hers is elsewhere at the moment, but I think this other one probably has to be out before the other one can go back in? No rush. I've got plenty of sedatives. Lmk."

The ridiculing snort-laugh that came out of Red’s mouth when he was shown the comm message from Lynesse made Taric smirk. Yes, he was well aware how this sounded. No, this was not his first time, nor Red’s first time,  in dealing with a wealthy person's body being inhabited by another soul - most likely brought on by said wealthy person’s desire to mess with cursed objects or locations. They weren’t exactly known for considering the consequences of their actions. He didn’t know the specifics yet, but a lot of assumptions could be made.

It wasn’t widespread knowledge, but those closer to Taric or Red would know that they have connections to the spirit world. A trait that runs in the male side of the Darkmorn family; being able to see and speak with spirits was the surface level trait, and the simplest explanation that would be given to anyone wanting details. But it went much deeper than that. They could traverse through the veil with ease, allow themselves to become possessed, trap souls, free souls…destroy souls, and more.

Taric had been ‘lucky’ enough to inherit the generation-skipping trait that gifted him sectoral heterochromia, causing his right eye to be half blue, half golden. ‘Half-in, half-out’ as he would describe it, being able to see whatever was beyond the veil and into the real world at the same time. Two planes of existence stacked atop each other. Not understanding what was happening as a child made for an extremely difficult time growing up, but now that he was older, this was simply his norm.

“So what do you think? I’m heading over today and you’re welcome to join. But uhh..this is more your wheelhouse.” The forcible removal of a foreign soul from a body, that is. Taric could do it, but Red was more experienced and much more apathetic about the souls and the people from which they would be removed.

“Is it anyone we know?” ‘Noblewoman’ meant money, but it also meant secrecy and having easy blackmail to hold over someone’s head should the need arise. 

“I don’t know yet. I won’t be given an address until I’m on my way.” Taric was just as in the dark, although he was well aware that Red might be familiar with whomever it may be, given the older man’s own time spent as a noble within Quel’thalas decades ago. Especially if they were of an elder bloodline, like the Darkmorns themselves.

“Well I can’t let you go by yourself on your birthday, now can I?”

Taric blinked a few times. Huh. How time flies and skews when you’re out in ‘the field’. He hadn’t even realized that his birthday was approaching, and now it was suddenly here. “Right. I guess it just slipped my mind. So that’s a yes?”

“That’s a yes.”

At least this birthday would be interesting!

@tristennedarkmorn @gloamingdawn @fio-renze @daily-writing-challenge

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Golden Queen

Why would they think she wanted the gold?

Tens, hundreds of years later. When her name was written in books of history or legend and spoken offhandedly in streets and homes, her story retold countless times. When everyone knew of her; what would they think of her?

Base greed? Delusions of superiority? No, no. The queen smiled to herself as she flexed her fingers, taking her first breath as a divinity in her own right. Her court and political peers were never able to conceive of anything they themselves didn’t possess. She stood up straighter, though she almost swayed with the heady rush that streaked and jolted through her veins, dancing, lightning striking her bones and setting her alight from the inside out. The surge she’d felt when she’d gripped the goddess’s hand seemed a spark compared to this.

“Your wish is granted,” said the goddess of wealth, singsong as ever. “All things you touch, except yourself of course, shall turn to gold. You’re welcome!” Her smile was easy and serene, but her eyes were full of emptiness. There was a shine to them a little too bright. Uncanny, especially in a face so similar to hers. Her skirts and sleeves were so translucent, their stitches so fine, one moment they might’ve just been sunlight caught in the air. She disappeared the same way she’d come - in a blink, the subtlest ripple of light. Like perhaps she’d never been there at all.

The queen shrugged the curt exit off and turned away. Her own smile widened.

She may not have looked like it, true. Underestimating her was a terrible habit of everyone. Always had been. A quiet girl, the people had never loved or trusted her much. Born a younger daughter, the throne had never been meant for her, and how stiffly and awkwardly she’d sat on it at her coronation, while the crown had weighed on her head as if hoping to slip off it. She was quite literally the last option. Her destiny hadn’t been sovereign gold, but bridal white - and as luck had had it, funeral black. Her family had left her, one by one. Now all she had was her young daughter, her only child.

Now her beauty was fading, but age had sharpened her eyes and her wits. She’d been growing her hair out for years, long and thick, and after all her textile lessons she could have weaved a new pair of gloves in her sleep. They itched. She didn’t care. It felt nice, to have her face no longer in her forelock’s shadow.

The court’s murmurs about her altered appearance fell silent the instant she poked a finger through the strands and touched a candlestick on the table. And there it was… the lightning, the rush… and the brass was gleaming gold to the core.

Thus began the Golden Age. In scarcely two decades, the kingdom rose the richest and most advanced in the known world with cautious and judicious application of its ruler’s magic touch: the toxic lead pipes became incorruptibly harmless, and nobody could plunder them lest they unearth the whole land; the economy was revitalized; the crooked, squalid streets rebuilt into places where life could be truly lived. Droplets sprayed solid and glittering over shrieking children from a fountain jet that the queen’s fabled hand interrupted.

Likewise, the citizens’ distrust melted away. The queen was the best ruler they’d ever had. The princess was expected to be even better. With a radiant smile and dependable heart, she’d always been beloved. All her mother had was given to her. The best tutors, in higher thought and science and other classes she’d had to scrounge for her brothers’ leftovers of. The princess’s destiny was sovereign gold, she would see to that. In public they were perfect, the venerated goddess-queen and tomorrow’s shining protector.

In private they were long, playful battles of wits over breakfast and souls bared raw in arguments and exchanges of articulate analyses of books in the evenings and heart-to-hearts on the bed. You got good at words, when you couldn’t touch. The queen’s gift wouldn’t change the living, only objects, but gold was heavy. A gown that large and layered on such a slim girl, the risk that it could affect organic hair… well, it wouldn’t do to be careless.

At last the queen announced she would be abdicating, and her worthy heir would take the throne. The kingdom swore to honour her in her retirement and never forget her wisdom or kindness. But how they rejoiced for the princess! The Golden Age was just beginning!

The throne awaited. The queen felt tears prick her eyes. She took her daughter’s hands in hers, gloves now soft silk lined with hair and no longer itching.

“I am so proud of you,” she said.

Before she could proceed with the speech she’d planned, the princess’s face crumpled, rivers down running her cheeks. She threw herself forward -

and for the first time since she was a little girl -

hugged her mother. Her arms wrapped tightly around her. Her hands reached and clutched with the boldness of unbridled love and elation, and slipped under the layered fabric of the queen’s dress. For the first time in twenty years, the queen felt human warmth on her skin.

And there it was. The lightning. The rush. And the crowd gathered for the coronation heard a death-knell wail, as a woman twisted out of her child’s corpse’s arms.

She didn’t know how long she was crying. Only that she’d stopped by the time she found the goddess. Her eyes were still red and stinging.

“You lied to me,” she snarled, body trembling but mind a steady blade. “I asked - you said - it would work only on things, not people!”

The goddess laughed. “I don’t see any difference. People are made, perform specific functions, can break and be fixed sometimes, inevitably break down for good and are disposed of. How are they not things?”

The queen stared at her.

Then she ripped off her gloves, tore them to shreds and strands and seized the goddess’s hands. That serene smile shattered. Those chill bright eyes burned like the purest ice. The lightning died.

Hundreds of years later, her name is written in books of legend and spoken offhandedly in streets and homes, her story retold countless times. Fewer hundreds of years later, she is invoked to demonstrate the self-destructiveness of base greed and delusions of superiority. Tens of years later, the kingdom’s people shake their heads in the capital’s primary square, wondering how the Golden Age could have ended in such tragedy.

Before them stand two solid gold statues: one labelled the queen, the other the princess. The second is known to be the girl’s true body. But the first is definitely an effigy; the queen couldn’t have transformed herself and the statue looks different from her contemporary portraits. Yet it wears no crown. Its clothing is lighter and significantly older, without the queen’s iconic gloves. And every now and then, someone remarks that they saw its eyes glint when no light was shining on them…

[viragosoul]

HUH YUNJIN  22  FEMALE  SHE / HER — ; where do you get your inspiration, SONG SIYEON ? you’re so OUTSPOKEN, i can’t help but think of BLASTING MUSIC AT 3AM, THE LINGERING SMELL OF SUNSCREEN, BROKEN CLAY SPREAD ACROSS THE FLOOR when i hear your name. your friends tell me you can be DELUSIONAL sometimes . i guess it’s understandable given the circumstances . besides , i can’t even imagine how stressful SCULPTOR classes must be — not to mention you’re also in THE RED AND GREEN CLUB & SODALITES ! you’re a NEWCOMER , right ? yeah , i thought so . either way , welcome to mugunghwa !  ( rouge , 21+ , cst )

hello friends ♡ i’m rouge and i’m v excited to be here to bring you this bullheaded woman named song siyeon! she’s still relatively new and doesn’t rly know what’s going on, but that’s okay b/c she’s just here to prove herself 💪 anywho i have her profile and personality page set up, but under the cut i’ll have more info on her background and maybe even some half-baked plots if we’re lucky! please like this post to plot or add me on discord at saturnian charm#3118 which is highly preferred over tumblr ims! i’m super stoked to write with you all!

there’s nothing much to note of her background: she was born in seoul to a well off family as the miracle child after many fertility issues. mother was a professor turned stay at home mom, and her father is a politician, although a highly controversial / disliked one. her grandparents on her mother’s side are known art aficionados within the seoul scene. due to being the only child, she was pretty much your typical spoiled golden spoon baby.

deemed gifted with art at a very young age, and because her skills brought esteem to the song name, her parents decided to cultivate it and throw the best of whatever money could buy: tutors/mentors, supplies, schooling, experiences, whatever was recommended and whatever she asked for was gotten. in return, she was constantly put into art competitions “for her benefit” in her parents terms, but in hindsight it was obviously just for the attention ⏤ and didn’t start off too hot. anything that wasn’t top three was a failure

high school was ... alright. that’s when her father started becoming more controversial, and every time she started to win a competition her name was always attached to his, which caused her to be less socially accepted with her non-artistic peers ⏤ and even some of the artistic ones as well, thinking that she only won due to her family name. and in her eyes, there were only two ways of dealing with this: fall into despair and feel sorry for herself, or fight it. don’t give a damn and prove them wrong by working hard at her craft. and so, she does. and tbh ... this is probably whenever she reaches full menace status too LOL.

reaches out a sculptor that she admires via social media, and after meeting up at her exhibits siyeon becomes her mentee during her third year in high school. during breaks she travels abroad to where she lives in paris and hones her craft under her knowledge. does a lot of growing up during this time too.

after high school, she flies to paris after an argument with her parents regarding her future and decides to wing it. but actually living in a place abroad is much different from visiting, and culture shock hits her hard; she’s about to give up probably 4 weeks in until her mentor finds her, and instead siyeon spends that time under her tutelage while in art school. doesn’t reconnect with her parents ( especially since her father’s views get much worse while she’s away ) and instead contacts her grandparents more instead.

her grandparents talk about coming home and going to mugunghwa, as her grandpa has invested within the school, but she says no. however, when she meets minjun and finds out that he goes to to the same school, siyeon takes that as a sign and uproots her life to transfer there instead.

and yeah, that brings us to here and now! except now she’s single LMAO

okay so i actually lied and i don’t have plots here because the above took a lot out of me but i promise i love brainstorming so please don’t be afraid to hit me up! ♡ 

[be-my-wingman-anytime]

I’d like to do a ship Request for Top Gun(1986).

Alright so my name is Amy. I’m almost 25 and stand about 5’5 even. I love to bake and cook and read or just watch child movies or cartoons. I love shopping and supporting my family and helping when I can wether it’s giving blood or helping a neighbor. I love to be goofy but I have serious moments because I am a super sensitive person. I love to just have fun and I’ve played sports especially volleyball.

I am Female and go by She/Her/They pronouns but mostly she/her.

I’m Bi with a preference towards men

I’m a bit more on the curvy side then most girls with long curly hair that’s dirty blonde. I’m fair skinned with perfect eyebrows and hazel-green eyes. Despite being big I do work out!

Hobbies are singing, baking, cooking, reading and sewing. I also have a passion for swimming and like to skate!

Unfortunately, giving my family’s history, I have a Irish Temper and I’m quick to angry but I’m also overly emotional and will cry for no reason or over something trivial. I am also as hardheaded as an ass which I get form both parents. I was diagnosed with ADHD at a young age so unfortunately my brain doesn’t function so it’s hard for me to stay focused!

Growing up with two loving parents and a slew of family close by, I’ve learned to become loyal to a fault. I’ll always have your back and support you as long as you do the same. Despite my ADHD I love to learn and read. I’m somewhat musically gifted and I have a passion for baking and cooking as it lets me explore from what I know. If you really care about me, I’ll give you the same treatment in return. Doing your laundry(my parents mostly), offering advice and listening, just overall being there!

I’m mostly a pretty fun girl whose got a big heart and loves to have fun. I love kids too so sometimes I’m motherly to my cousins kids. I am the extrovert who collects introverts because I love to talk. I’m a people talker which can sometimes be a bad thing but mostly good!

My star Sign is Aquarius!

NSFW can be included!(im 25 on the 23 of this month)

I’d prefer to keep like all the older instructors and such off the list. Sundown and Chipper like background characters who don’t have as many lines. I’d also like to avoid Cougar and Merlin! I hope this helps! Can’t wait to see!

Hi Amy! Happy Birthday for when it’s the 23rd! Thank you for popping into my inbox and trusting me with a ship! I hope you enjoy it!

I ship you with…

Goose

I almost shipped you with Carol because she’s so fun-loving but I kept leaning back towards Goose to the point where I was basically the mental human version of the Leaning Tower of Pisa.

But you’re totally Carols’ bestie! Perhaps she’s the one that set you and Goose up? (sorry Carol/Goose shippers!)

Goose definitely has a thing for blonde-hair, green/hazel-eyed babes! He honestly thinks he doesn’t stand a chance with you. You’re so gorgeous and have all the curves in all the right places. Your golden curls and gorgeous hazel-coloured eyes that are shaped by your eyebrows. Literal picture perfect. Can he have your picture pinned in the cockpit?

You and her totally go shopping together and you chat about Goose non-stop.

This is fine by Goose because he doesn’t like going shopping. However, he does love it when you come home all excited to show him what you bought! Especially if it’s clothes. He’d want a runway session!

And if it’s lingerie… Hehe

It must look a bit weird, you being on the curvier side and Goose being a literal stick figure (hurry and do some sugary baking. Fatten this man up at once!)

But he loves your curves. It’s a literal turn-on for him.

Guarantee, from an outsiders perspective who didn’t realise you two are a couple, he straight up looks like a fucking sleazebag checking you out from the aisle over. The cheesy moustache, Hawaiian shirt and holding a box of lego probably isn’t helping.

However, if you really want him to go shopping with you… lure him with the promise of ice-cream. “Can I get two scoops?” he’ll ask like a child, holding up two fingers, soft puppy-dog eyes glancing at you. How can you say no to him?

You WILL lose him in the store. But you can be guaranteed you’ll find him in the toy department looking at plane models.

Will he look at, holding a box of a model plane close to his chest and beg you? “Can we buy this? Please?” Yes. Yes he will.

Be careful though, he’ll definitely use this soft look against you to get what he wants! He’s just as cheeky as you are!

The fact you play volleyball makes up for all the times you’ve dragged him out to a spontaneous shopping spree. He loves volleyball and loves playing with you! It’s the best way to spend the summertime! A mixed round down at the beach of Girls Vs Boys and then mixed doubles (you and Goose, Mav and Carol [who aren’t dating but just friends]).

Followed by drinks at the bar.

Which leads into Goose at the piano. You by Goose’s side, loudly singing and Carol and Maverick joining in.

Goose is at his happiest during these times.

But you both have your serious moments.

Late evening talks. Sitting on the couch.

Goose is comfortable opening up about what’s on his mind. You both talk the problem out. If it doesn’t get sorted (perhaps because there’s no solution to what’s weighing on him) at least he came to you.

You both have such an open and honest relationship.

You never go to bed on an argument. You’re too soft for that and Goose doesn’t like seeing you breakdown.

No way is he going to let you fall asleep having cried your eyes out.

He’ll be the first to apologise. He has no issue with that. Even if he doesn’t know what he’s apologising for. He just doesn’t want to go to bed without saying ‘I love you’ and being able to hold you.

Goose is a huge family man. He’s always wanted a family of his own. So he’d definitely be there helping your family too. Whenever he can. He’s pretty absent most of the time but even after months of deployment that has him exhausted and tired, he’s still there helping your family.

Speaking of family, you both have such beautiful babies with cheeky personalities. They test the boundaries of what’s good behaviour, but they’re generally good kids. Always have a way of making everyone smile. So good luck figuring out which side they get that from!

He’s a very hands-on significant other. He’s always helping around the house without asking and trying to make things easier for you. Including following your ADHD trail of unfinished things which he finishes while you’ve started three other new things.

There’s more radio on in the house than the TV. It’s a very musical house.

Between Goose teaching the children piano or you just singing and humming away while you’re doing things around the house.

Goose’s favourite moments are watching you, particularly the first time you were pregnant, bopping a little in time with the song you were singing, while you were baking some cookies. You didn’t know he was watching.

Until he came in, dancing and singing, joining in the fun.

So there you two are, two parents-to-be, being silly and goofy in your own home.

But this is where Goose came in to do the dishes so you can sit down and relax.

He kept an eye on the baking because he knew you’d fall asleep on the couch. Pregnancy is tiring after all.

He loves it when you bake and cook. He cooks too! It’s not the stereotypical 50’s housewife scenario. Okay..admittedly it is. But that’s how things naturally fell into place. You do insist on baking and cooking because you enjoy it. But he does love it.

For some reason the house always smells better when you’re baking.

Luckily for Goose, he doesn’t need to worry about putting weight on because he regularly works out. Sometimes high intensity with Maverick. Other times, just a general workout with you. He loves it though. Gets to watch you work-out.

Remember when I said he looked like a total creep in the store?

Yeah…well…the gym too.

Also expect both Goose and Maverick to come to you to get their patches sewn on their jackets. Or to have it safely removed (guarantee they would’ve just pulled it off and made it worse).

You both frolicking at the beach in the summertime. I can see you both getting into snorkelling while on holiday. You both were kind of just ‘meh’ about it but once you did it, you loved it. Especially when Goose would randomly pick something up and point to it like a proud child of ‘look at this!’

But also keep an eye on him underwater too. He’s not the smartest to know what’s considered poisonous or dangerous. He just sees a cool-looking thing that looks like a plane and has to show you.

Skating dates. Or, rather… you’re off skating around the area while Goose is in a egotistical competitive match of Volleyball of him and Maverick Vs Iceman and Slider.

I know Ice-skating is different but you teaching him to skate on the Ice….

He never feels silly. He’s always up to trying everything and anything with you.

Like I said, you are both open with each other. About everything.

Goose is very calm…he shows this during all the times he could’ve torn a new one into Maverick but didn’t (instead, he calmly came to him and spoke to him about a problem) so your irish temper, whilst a thing to behold, is something Goose has learnt to navigate. He’ll either step back and leave you alone, or he’ll place a hand on your shoulder and use the safe word “Potatoes.”

Yes, you two have a safe word for your irish temper (sue me, it was funny in my head).

When you’re getting a little too angry, that little gesture and random word silently says ‘Calm down. Take a deep breath. Let’s work it out.’ …. Most especially if you’re in public. But there have been times when you’ve not listened so Goose is just “Potatoes! Think about the potatoes honey!”

Your over-sensitive heart is one of the things Goose has fallen for. It always makes him laugh a little when you cry over the silliest things (but he’s not laughing at you). He’s always there with a hug and a light “Awh honey.”

But your over-sensitive heart is one of the things Goose is extremely protective of. When Maverick gets too cocky and too risky in the air because, lets be real, he is slightly egotistical… Goose went to him that evening, once he made sure you were settled at home, and spoke to Maverick. He has you and a possible future family to think about.

Your hard-headedness is great because, as mentioned or likely hinted at, Goose needs to be reigned in with a few things (ie, buying toys he doesn’t need).

Now Goose is generally a placid being. But when he puts his foot down, you actually stop and listen. Because it’s not often he does this – and tends to do it when you’re being too hot-headed.

Also prepare to be annoyed with him throwing paper planes at you. Imagine you’re in the kitchen or just reading, minding your own business and you suddenly get jabbed by the nose of a paper airplane. You can’t be mad though because sometimes they’ll have a little love-note on them.

He would propose to you on the beach; which I see going 1 of 2 ways;

Either during the day where you were under the assumption that it was another beach volleyball so it didn’t bother you people were there. And he proposed to you in front of everyone.

Or he’d keep it just between the two of you and propose to you in the late evening when the sun was setting, the sky a soft pink, the water very gently lapping against the shoreline.

NSFW:

Do you know how hot you look if you were lounging on the bed, in lingerie or just sexy-looking pyjamas (that are specifically sexy but to Goose they are) and reading some sort of plane manual or something. You love to read and learn new things, and this was one of those things. Understanding Goose’s job… Except you look sexy doing it.

Picture this; you two at the beach…in the ocean…Your legs wrapped around his waist. Him holding you to him. The rest of the Top Gun guys have their attention on the volleyball match that’s going on at the shore.

Meanwhile Goose’s attention is on you. And IN you.

You do a lot of cooking and baking in the kitchen…prepare for Goose to interrupt that as he sits you up on the bench or has you pressed over the bench.

If he knows Maverick is coming over for dinner, always tries to steal a quickie right before he’s due to arrive. Has you pressed up against the wall, dress lifted up…

But despite these many quickies… he’s still a gentle lover.

Worships your body.

Takes his time. Peppers kisses anywhere he can reach.

One thing he always does is when he lines himself up at your entrance, you’re both gazing at each other and he wants to see your expression. Never gets tired of it.

Loves having your blonde curls splayed over the pillow.

But also loves watching them bounce up and down (amongst many other things) when you’re straddling on top of him.

The definition of sexy is what he’s seeing right before his eyes; his beautiful, blonde-haired, hazel-eyed woman with the perfect lips, the perfect curves…how he doesn’t fall apart immediately is beyond him.

He’s got his hands on your hips, bouncing you, but when you’re leaning down, one hand is definitely in the curls of your hair. Gently gripping as he angles your face to either kiss him or give him easier access to your neck.

You have a beautiful voice when you’re singing, but an even more beautiful voice when you’re moaning.

[cindybanksteam]

Staging Tips for Selling to Specific Target Markets

For so long, we’ve been told to keep everything neutral when selling our home to appeal to the widest base. But what if we don’t need to?

To differentiate your home today, you may need to think like a model home interior designer. When you walk through a model, it’s very clear who they think their buyer is. One home features a train theme in the bedroom that screams little boy. Another is merchandised for a millennial couple through and through. In yet another model, there is no sign of children; instead, there’s a wine room where the play room would be. And the downstairs bedroom has been decorated as a warm and inviting guest space.

You can apply these ideas to your own home to get it sold.

Millennials

When trying to attract millennial buyers, “This shouldn’t be your grandma’s house,” said Zing by Quicken Loans. “The knickknacks, flowery wallpaper and dust need to go. Staging is a must, specifically when marketing to the millennial home buyer. For many of this generation, this will be their first time buying a home. Staging will give them a visual on how they could live in this space.” According to Paige Elliott, a real estate agent at Dave Perry-Miller Real Estate in Park Cities, Texas, millennials “want that glamorous, this-could-be-a-movie-set look,” said the Minnesota StarTribune. “They like that because they’re young and they want the lifestyle.” That means clean lines, a modern color palette, and a de-cluttered space.

Young families

A tricycle in the yard. A stylish high chair pulled up to the kitchen table. A crib in a themed bedroom. They’re all signs that a home is family-friendly. If you’re in an area with lots of young families or that’s who you’re trying to attract, but your home is not giving off that feeling, there are some steps you can take.

Start with that tricycle, the high chair, and the crib (borrow if you need to!). Then take a cue from those model homes and get out the paint brush. Create a nursery or young child’s room that brings the “Awww,” and you’re halfway there.

It also helps to have a handout of local school info including area preschools and recommended daycares. While buyers can do their own research to find some of this information, they will surely appreciate having it handed to them—and it will certainly make your home memorable.

Retirees/Multigenerational

“Baby boomers are either retired or reaching retirement age, and they are quickly becoming empty nesters,” said HGTV star Christina Hall on Irish Realty & Cooreman Properties. “These aging Americans are looking to downsize because they no longer want or need their five-bedroom, two-level homes. A home that better fits their current lifestyle is much more appealing, especially if it means they don’t have to make the move to a retirement home.”

That gives you a golden opportunity to stage your home as a magnet for this target. A first-floor master suite is key, but if you don’t have one, maybe you have a guest bedroom that could be turned into a master. A first-floor guest bedroom could also be staged as a mother-in-law suite to appeal to a multi-generational household, which is a growing trend across the country.

While making updates to attract baby boomers, concentrate on low-maintenance features. “Boomers love modern appliances that they won’t have to repair, a yard that’s easy to maintain, energy-efficient windows and doors to save on their heating bills, and a large, open floor plan that provides lots of space and natural light,” said El Moussa.

While your home may not meet that standard 100%, there are things you can do to make it more appealing, particularly in the yard. Changing out grass to turf or changing it to pavers to “cut down on yard work” is a good start.

[z4nstories]

Sun on Beach☀️🌊

16 years ago, I was 8 years old. My brother Santos would have been 32 now, double his age back then and I suppose if he was here right now, he would have shown a smile of contentment, seeing my life right now. Happy for my peace but sorry too. So deeply sorry for the loss he probably thought he incurred on us. It wasn’t his fault though. War really has no victors especially when you’re conscripted at 16 - but I still think he should have fought to stay out of it. He missed out. Our family could have been alone on a distant shore in the east, where the sun rose in the sea and set again, inland - had he not gone out to war. Such a heavenly place I have found, away from that war. I wish, so deeply, that they could be here with me now. But they all died 16 years ago, alongside the ones already on their deathbeds, wrinkled and silver haired as well as the little ones atop their mothers chests on a hospital bed. All in a great war.

I find it funny that in the years preceding the war, we were at the peak of our civilization. Well we believed we were - and I do not think at the time, I could have imagined a world greater than that one we inhabited. All the fantasies of a past world were real, very real so much that on one Christmas day, we gave our veteran grandfather that car he wanted so dearly in his youth, except it could fly. There was no concept of an economy, no rich or poor. Just peace.

We never thought it’d come to this. Behind the sea, a few miles behind the sandy shores I sit on, there is nothing. It is as though since the outbreak 16 years ago, it persisted in remaining a battlefield. First it was a battlefield for humanity, then nature against our sins and faults. Plants don’t grow inland and birds fall from the sky if they get too close, like that one Greek story of Icarus, the boy who flew too close to the sun. But the birds were born to fly; it was us who flew too close to the sun and they had to pay for it.

As a child, my parents sacrificed their lives to save my siblings. Our eldest brother Santos was at war but the rest of us fought the world to survive. When we were hungry we found only the rotting corpses of deers, cattle and rats in the scorched fields. If we were thirsty, we met a great vast ocean and rejoiced as if victorious against a great opposition but when the first of us fell after drinking from it, we looked closely and found it was green and red in pollution and bloodshed. And it flowed on for miles. When night fell one day, one of my brothers, aged 14, took a knife to my sister’s throat then to his and by the time we arrived to intervene, it was just red and we hated him for it, but the two dead on the floor were smiling and shedding blood stained tears from their eyes. I suppose he was the smart one out of us, because soon enough, we had fled so far from ‘civilization’ that the only ones left were us. And well - we had to survive didn’t we? 

In the end I lived. I believe I am the last survivor of not just my family but our species and part of me feels as though that would be quite ideal for me. I don’t think I alone could keep them from ruining this place. These golden shores turn silvery at night and are forever soft and comforting like a mother’s embrace. The ocean isn’t green anymore and there is nobody left to paint it red, which means that the fish have come once again to the shoreline and are visible through the clear water that rolls back and forth like the unravelling of a golden scroll at day and a silver one at night. When it is time to start the day, the sun greets me from the other side of the ocean; so warm and bright a greeting I had never been offered before these days. 

These days are better than our futuristic civilization. I think my family would have agreed. I think humanity would have too.

Insta won't let me post this whole pic 😭