#for i am weak and fear judgement

[cheese-hater]

grippies

[iamnotmereally]

still dumbfounded djcdhfhvk.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Helloo! Thought of a prompt, thought you could fulfil!

Stoic Hero doesn't like anyone knowing what they went through. Villain finds out anyway?

(So specific, Ikr?)

Most of the time, the villain tried not to act like a total idiot around the hero. It wasn't necessarily because they feared judgement. It was mostly the fact that despite all, they wanted to stay professional.

But looking back, this probably counted as idiotic behaviour.

"If you're mad at me, I can live with that," the villain said. Their eyes were on the hero in the hospital bed and slowly, it dawned on them that they themselves hadn't eaten in hours.

"You shouldn't be here," the hero croaked in response. With their black eye and their arm in a sling, they looked miserable enough to make the villain's stomach turn. Usually, the hero wasn't one to use many words and the villain had seldom actually argued with them but considering all circumstances, the villain was ready for a lecture.

Hospitals had always been a no on both sides. Identities being revealed and civilians getting involved was something both had agreed on to avoid.

But the villain had panicked. They had seen the blood and the broken bones. The hero hadn't responded.

Of course, they had called an ambulance. Of course, they had tried everything in their power to make sure the hero was alive.

"Honestly, if you're mad at me, that's fine. I understand. I just need you to know this wasn't on purpose. The medical staff isn't allowed to leak any personal information and nobody treated you any differently from other patients. It should be safe for you to be here."

The hero closed their eyes and leaned back against the mattress.

"Did anyone see you?"

"…I hid when the ambulance arrived. And then I showed up at the hospital and said we are dating.”

The hero let out a pathetic laugh.

It made the villain truly uncomfortable to see their nemesis like this. They barely moved, almost as if it was too painful to even lift a finger.

The exhaustion carved itself into the hero's face and their usually calm and perfect expression was similar to a tortured angel's.

The hero took in a deep breath.

"Why are you here?" they asked. Their voice was weak.

"I couldn't just...leave."

"Because we sleep with each other?"

The villain frowned. No, they didn't think it was because of that. If this had happened two months ago, they wouldn't have left either.

They wanted to take the hero's hand but they didn't find the courage.

"You've mentioned that a few times before and I'll say it again if you want me to: I don't care about you because you are good in bed. I care about you because I respect you and I think what you're doing is impressive."

"We are enemies," the hero reminded them.

"Enemies with benefits."

"You could have left after the ambulance arrived. You didn't have to stay and watch. You didn’t have to go to the hospital and say we are a couple," the hero argued and the villain came to the conclusion that the hero truly didn't comprehend how anyone could ever care about them.

It wasn't easy for the villain either; to accept that there was something between them, some unspoken thing that lingered in the air when they looked at each other.

Some horrible silent truth. Because, at the end, "I care about you because I respect you" was a horrible excuse for something that reached a little deeper.

Maybe that was also the reason as for why the villain was so satisfied after a night with the hero.

They couldn't imagine having someone else in their arms and if they were to find out that the hero had other lovers, the villain feared that would break them.

"It's okay that you are angry," the villain said. "I am just not sure if you are angry at me for staying or…?"

"No…no, I…I am not angry at you, it's just…I am scared of what we have." The hero's eyes found the villain's and to the villain's surprise, their serious hero let actual sadness go over their face. It looked like it didn't take much for their tears to drop.

The villain took their hand.

"What do you mean?"

"What if you use me?" the hero whispered. Their bottom lip was shaking. "What if this is a big act and you…you're trying to get information out of me or some day you will lock me up when I am asleep next to you and you will torture me and I will still love you and-"

"Listen, that is actually sick and cruel. I did do some questionable things in the past but nothing ever came close to that," the villain said. "Why would you even think I…?"

And then it dawned on the villain that it wasn't just a fear but a memory. Something the hero had experienced.

Why are you here? Because we sleep together?

The hero thought the only reason as for why the villain was here was because the villain didn't want to lose their fuck buddy.

Holy shit.

The villain could only guess what had happened to the hero in the past and how they'd been used by someone they had loved.

“Okay, please listen. I like what we have and…perhaps we could be more if you want to. I have never really been in a relationship before and I am too dumb to manipulate you. I…I don't really know what to say, I just…I am here. I am here because of you. I don't have any other motivation or desire right now. All I want is for you to be alright."

"I think I need time." They squeezed the villain's hand weakly.

"Take all the time you need," the villain said but they felt like throwing up after hearing all this.

They had thought the hero would curse them for bringing them to a hospital.

It turned out this was only the tip of the iceberg and the villain truly wasn't ready for the entire truth.

[babypinkhearts]

spare me this - anakin skywalker

pairing: anakin skywalker + fem!reader

summary: the council assigns you on a deathly solo mission, forbidding anakin to join you.

warnings: angst (i don’t know what is wrong with me!! i am addicted to writing it now), mentions of injury and death, anakin is so sweet and sosososo in love it’s almost pitiful, fluff

a/n: i feel like i put a part of my soul in this. i feel so drained but finishing this feels SO rewarding. another day for firsts! this is my first time writing for anakin, or anything star wars related :) this has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS. i figured, while i still feel motivated to write, let me finish this!!! hope you all enjoy <3 i loved writing it

“three days.” you repeated faintly.

you disliked how quiet anakin was at times. it often left you more troubled than relaxed.

you frowned when he didn’t look at you from his stubborn stare at the ceiling. sighing softly, you mimicked his eyes and looked upwards, your neck rested against the headboard of the bed.

“we will come back victorious, and we will be right here. together again.”

the night before your mission’s departure, you slept in anakin’s room. it would have been much easier to ignore him, act like he didn’t exist for a while. the two of you were far too dependent on one another. the love sometimes felt overwhelming.

however, anakin’s fear was far too evident. it was strong - too strong to the point where you genuinely believed someone else could detect it. you decided that if you could soothe his worries, he’d be relieved of his thoughts.

but anakin didn’t speak. he refused, and his body simply forbid him from trying. not a touch or word was directed at you. it had almost been an hour of pure silence.

unbeknownst to you, there was a helpless feeling of uncertainty that anakin could clearly sense from you. that was what was driving him crazy.

bloodshed was a promise, you already knew it. your master had spoken grimly about the mission, and it was anakin who realized - much quicker than you - that this battle would not end seamlessly.

there was a large, if not, inevitable chance of you coming back alarmingly injured.

you were calculated, strong, and reliable. it was you who the council had chosen to lead the mission.

they were selfish, anakin believed.

“obi-wan knows this will kill me.”

anakin bleakly spoke, his voice muffled by the blanket he had brought up to his face. you decided against expressing your surprise to the sound of his voice.

while obi-wan had no idea about the true nature of your relationship with anakin, he was aware that you served as each other’s weaknesses. jedi code called for the banishment of any attachments, though obi-wan knew he himself had begun to break them when he started to form a brotherly bond with his once-padawan. he held no room for judgement.

while you hadn’t spent nearly as much time with him as anakin had, you felt very fond of him. there was a certain soothing atmosphere that only seemed to arrive in his presence.

secretly, obi-wan had pulled you aside mere hours after your mission was announced. his voice was low as he spoke, and he had gently held your arm the entire time.

“you come back within your scheduled arrival, and everything will be fine. i cannot promise you we will be at ease if you take longer.”

and, of course, through unknowing ears this was a simple comment - a statement of encouragement, really. but it was a completely different story when you could see the true intentions in his words.

anakin would not be at ease, is what he had wanted to say.

and obi-wan was right. from the moment you explained your mission to anakin, he had gone silent. you had been in your room, slowly walking in circles as you counted the tasks you were required to fulfill on your journey.

you hadn’t noticed how awfully pale your jedi had become.

now in present, you realized he had never left his stage of shock.

anakin hated this. he hated how guilty he felt for the resentment he had towards your capabilities. you had impressed the council too much, and it had put you in a dangerous position. he hated how careless you tried to sound, and he hated how you only gave the reply of “yes, master” when being told the instructions of your suicide mission. most importantly, he hated how he was forbidden to join you.

“how do i live? how do i function when you could be dead at any moment?”

you froze, eyes widening.

anakin’s words were cold, and you fought the urge to feed into his frighteningly grim thoughts.

pursing your lips briefly, you forced a smile, brushing back his hair from his forehead. anakin was laying on his back, eyes still narrow and focused upwards. you tried to keep the mood light, attempting to add a little amusement to calm the tense atmosphere his question had made.

“we’re both aware i’m capable enough to handle myself. i used to beat you during training, and i saved you from-“

your playful smile faded, and you gave up talking once you realized he had started to look up at you.

anakin knew you were strong. he didn’t need to hear your reassurance, especially when he knew even you were undoubtedly terrified.

for a while, he just stared at you. it wasn’t intimidating - he could never direct an emotion like that at you - but you felt exposed, almost as if you should shield your face.

anakin felt troubled, trying to piece together all his discomforting emotions clearly. to have you so close seemed to be a punishment. you shouldn’t be here. he shouldn’t be seeing the worry in your eyes, or watching the slight furrow of your brows. although, there was something so beautiful about your concern. he wasn’t made to feel these kinds of emotions, especially ones that one mere person could provide.

for a moment, he wished he didn’t know you. selfishly, he knew that would relieve him of the pain.

“anakin,”

his name that only ever sounded right when you said it.

“what’s the matter, ani?”

there were no protests made when you moved closer to him. the security and serenity he felt with your arms around him made it feel impossible to refuse.

anakin trusted you with his life. he’d give you his life in a heartbeat. he’d do anything for you. and yet - why couldn’t you help him believe you would be okay on this mission? it was cruel, picking on his one and only weakness. his heart, which you held so effortlessly. his mind consisted of you, you, you.

with a shaky sigh, he spoke.

“you’re scaring me.” he quietly admitted.

his eyes were glossy, nearing a depressive red. his stare was piercing. you weren’t sure you wanted his attention anymore.

confused, though mostly alarmed, you continued to look back at him. scaring him?

“you think you’re going to die, don’t you?”

your eyes widened, and suddenly you felt very vulnerable being in front of him.

“anakin - what?” you stumbled out, shaking your head in surprise. he couldn’t be serious. you attempted to talk, reassure him that you would be fine, but his gaze was unfocused. he didn’t want to listen to your futile words. anakin knew you better than anyone else.

“please, do not lie to me.” he whispered, and in that particular moment, you had never seen him so small. “spare me that.”

anakin skywalker, the reckless jedi who consistently charmed his way through trouble. someone who was so spontaneous, yet brilliant.

love kept him going. it wasn’t unrequited. he knew that more than anything. love got him up in the morning. love was adrenaline. love was everything and so much more.

he couldn’t bare losing it.

“i-“ you shook your head again, pausing briefly to lay beside him. a hand was placed on his cheek, and you caressed his face gently.

anakin’s eyes closed, and once more he felt a wave of anger pass through him. he hated the council, he hated the jedi. he hated everything to do with this. they were trying to take you from him. your sweet touches, your soft voice, your caring nature. he felt so bitter it hurt.

you pursed your lips, letting a sigh escape you.

“i will tell you this.“ you whispered, cupping a hand around his soft face. “i am scared. i act like i am not because that is what i must do.”

for the past couple of hours, anakin had assumed that hearing you admit your fear out loud would put his mind at ease. maybe, if you admitted you weren’t invincible, he could convince you to take extra care of yourself.

but your words had the opposite effect on him.

you were scared. and he wouldn’t be there to help.

“i cannot promise you i’ll be unscathed, anakin, but i can promise that i will come back to you.”

it took everything in you to not break in front of him.

you forbid him from continuing the conversation further after that.

when the morning you had dreaded arrived, you silently awaited for a signal on your commlink to commence your departure.

you had left anakin, quietly pleading for him to stay optimistic during your absence. he had helped you get dressed. his touch was like a feather, gently escorting you to a hell you could only hope would be generous to you.

weapons were hidden under your robes, as usual. two lightsabers, because you had learned from anakin years ago that an extra could never hurt.

you couldn’t help but wonder if he felt possibly felt guilty.

anakin had trained you, hoping that an increase in your skill would payoff on the battlefield to solely keep you safer when he wasn’t around.

but you had surpassed his expectations. and now, you were in this position.

it had been an honor to be praised so highly. though, you quickly found that, in reality, it was not something to completely look forward to. anakin’s worry being the main reason.

when your commlink finally sounds off, you waste no time in leaving.

three days, you had claimed to anakin.

when you finally return, a week had gone by.

and just like you had repeated to anakin so many times before - you were victorious.

though, not unscathed.

“medical-“ you breathed heavily, your hand glued to your side as you stepped out of your starfighter, your heart pounding in upmost fear as you realized your vision had begun to blur.

you couldn’t tell who grabbed you first. it wasn’t anakin, you knew that by muffled noise of calm reassurance. if anakin were here, he would have the entire building burned to the ground in seconds. if it weren’t for the excruciating pain you felt everywhere, you could have chuckled at the thought.

“requesting medical attention - yes, this is urgent.”

blinking as quickly as you could, which looked evidently labored, you watched as obi-wan spoke through his commlink.

yours had broken days ago, leaving you stranded with no communication. retreating was never an option in your mind, and you stupidly had fought until your mission had succeeded.

the consequences of your actions truly haunted you as you were lifted on to a table, the strong scent of medication telling you that, yes, your wound was as bad as it felt, if not worse.

and finally, the mask put over your mouth lulled you to a more painless state of sleep.

upon the first few seconds of opening your eyes, you tried to immediately close them again.

of course, anakin was right next to you.

you heard him jolt in his seat, repeatedly calling your name as if you would die if he stopped. his voice sounded hoarse. gently, you reached your arms out, silently begging for him to touch you. you needed his embrace. you can not have gone through all this effort for nothing. he was why you had tried so hard to survive. without a word, anakin complied to your silent request. his hands cupped your face, while yours did the same to him.

his chest was shaking with uneven breaths.

“i made it back - just like i said, right?” you spoke quietly, smiling through a wince. joking was never the way to handle serious situations with anakin, but fuck, you really couldn’t handle how broken he looked.

he didn’t smile. he hadn’t taken your eyes off of you, almost as if you would disappear the second he looked away.

“don’t ever do this to me again.”

you quickly stopped speaking at his tone. unstable and hurt. you can’t promise that to anakin. it would be selfish. you help people - your mission had hopefully saved thousands. what is one life to lose if it can save so many more? you’re skilled, why not use your potential for something extraordinary?

“leave the order with me.”

your eyes widen, bigger than you mean them to.

“i-i can’t do that.” you reply immediately, shaking your head in his gentle grasp. leaving the order was nearly unspoken of - all of these years training, dedicating your life - what would it have been for? you can’t leave. people need you - the galaxy needs you.

you would have anakin, but could you live with yourself? all these years, you’ve been taught to be selfless, so why is anakin proposing such an idea?

you’re sure he can see the conflict on your face.

“you almost died.”

his bluntness forces to you remember the stinging pain on your side. you shake your head.

“that’s a part of the job.” you speak firmly. “i would be injured a hundred times over if it meant someone won’t be.”

anakin immediately lets go of your face.

“listen to me,”

it’s nearly a full-body sob, and you watch as he stands straighter, attempting to compose himself.

you feel your heart drop to your stomach.

“you’re hurting me - i don’t care if i’m being selfish! i love you. i love you more than anything, and i know i cannot live without you.”

anakin skywalker’s love for you was almost pitiful. he himself nearly couldn’t stand it. how can one person cause so much heartache? why is it possible to care for someone as much as he does for you? his outburst was childish, and he’s aware. but he needs you to see him, so raw, so authentically. maybe if you could see the pain he was in, you would spare him more easily.

“anakin…” you whispered, so quietly you almost doubted he heard you.

the reality was, you tended to push anakin away. you were hesitant to love him. you felt greedy whenever you allowed yourself to love him so deeply. you were meant to serve others, not have feelings of your own. anakin was your weakness, and that scared you more than anything. if you were going to be powerful enough to save millions, it would be foolish to have a flaw.

but, clearly, anakin didn’t care about weaknesses. he had you, and loved you with open arms, and despite this, he preformed better than you in nearly everything. how does he manage?

“i love you too much.” his voice was defeated, and the anger he had previously held dissipated. “obi-wan saw me sulk after the three days. he stopped me from seeing you when you arrived.”

you nodded slowly. it made sense, you couldn’t imagine the scene that would have occurred if it had been anakin carrying your half-conscious body. anakin skywalker reacted according to his feelings. he was spontaneous.

you sighed quietly.

“i would never leave the order, anakin. i wouldn’t be able to live with myself.” you spoke, and winced as you visibly saw him tense.

you had to be honest with him.

reaching a hand out, you grabbed his, gently interlocking your fingers.

“but, i can promise you that i will never take a mission like that. it was reckless, i know. i’m so sorry.”

he didn’t speak, taking a seat on your bed.

he was unsatisfied, you knew that.

but you couldn’t change the entire trajectory of your life for him just because he worries you’ll get hurt. it would be wrong, and you know, though he won’t say it out loud, anakin agrees with you.

he allows himself to give into desires. it’s not because he feels he’s “deserving” of them, but because it’s something that comes so natural to him. so why must it be wrong to love you?

anakin is confident with your abilities. he knows how strong you are. but it’s second-nature for him to worry. you’re something so precious to him in this world of despair.

so he’ll stay silent and let you do whatever you please. he cannot hold you back, and he’s now painfully aware of it. but, he can help you.

more trainings, better advice, and more time.

you have each other, and he is satisfied with that forever.

[mamayan]

Hii can I request Gyomei x prostitute fem reader nsfw.....plsss

Gyomei Himejima x Fem! Reader

cw: NSFW • Darker Themes • Attempted murder (of reader) • Fem! Reader • prostitute reader • Fluff/Comfort • Size kink • Breeding kink • Sub/switch! Reader • Edging/Denial • Overstimulation • Oral (F)

“Namu Amida Butsu. Pitiful creature.” He doesn’t need vision to understand what was going on in the lively square of the red district tonight.

Normally a bubble of carnal desires and pleasure, many forgot the festering underbelly of this part of the city. He’s on a mission, needs to focus and do his job, but something keeps stopping him.

Possibly the kakushi by his side crying softly, pitying the poor soul on a trial meant to convict whether the offending party is guilty or not. How can an upright samurai be in the wrong in any way? It must be the fault of the lowly whore which should have known her place. Such disgusting beliefs made his gut churn, but he’s aware there is little one can do in this situation.

He needs to leave, walk away, and kill the demon living just on the outskirts of this district.

So why won’t his feet move?

“This bitch is getting what she deserves, and let her serve as a warning to all the workers in the district!”

“Oh no, is he going to decapitate her?!” The kakushi beside him gasps in horror, drawing his focus away from his chants to regain his will power and instead breaking his concentration as he focuses on the slurred drunk words of a man. The crowd is thickening, attention drawn to the spectacle but most of all, the promise of blood shed. “Gyomei-sama…” it would appear the kakushi wishes him to intervene.

He can’t. He’s not supposed to anyway. He knows nothing of the woman’s crimes nor any clear indication on how to pass judgement.

“For trying to run from the great Habuyoshi who mearly admired the beauty! For daring to raise these weak fists at the great Habuyoshi! For biting the dick of the great Habuyoshi! I am putting this filthy dog down!” The crowd was cheering, jeering him on, even begging he kill her after violating her for the crowd to watch, or wanting to do it themselves. Gyomei had heard the red light district was filled with glistening gold and red, and it enrages his heart to think such an auspicious color is tied to such a festering diseased place. No one won here. Ever.

Before the kakushi could move, he’d already made his presence known, easily knocking the samurai unconscious.

The crowd stared in awe and fear of the enormous man wielding only prayer beads, defeating the well known samurai of the area so easily with only a single blow.

“Who owns this prostitute?”

None speak up for a moment, tension thick in the air as a savior appears for a once thought dead woman.

“M-me…” an elderly woman far past her prime shakily steps out, her guilty and shifty expression not seen by the man looking at nothing, but her nervous energy radiated off in waves for all to feel.

“I’ll buy her.”

“Gyomei-sama?!”

“Huh—?”

You awoke with minimal pain.

The jarring events of the night prior swirling in your mind and dumbfounding you because what was that?

You nearly died because a strange man grabbed you off the street while you were running an errand and tried to rape you in an alley way. Of course you fought back, but it seems that’s a crime if the perpetrator is stronger than you.

Tears fell despite your anger. You were no longer a prostitute, your freedom seemingly bought out of kindness but you knew not to trust anything given freely. There’s always a price, and your life thus far had taught you to be witty and at least somewhat charming. Though it hardly did much for you last night when the crowd roared for your execution like your life meant so little.

Your new owner is more terrifying than your previous house mother. At least she’d been open about her greedy vile mindset, but this man is nothing short of an enigma. Why did he save you? What is the purpose? What should you do now? It left you riddled with anxiety as you sat in a bed more comfortable than you could ever remember sleeping in, the blankets and pillows too of better quality than the red light district ever provided even for the top courtesans. You’d been given plain but high quality clothing as well, allowed to bathe alone, and then fed a vegetarian meal so delicious you wondered if the Buddhist monks had it much better than you gave them credit for.

Now you slept, in a room all to yourself, with no idea of what was to come next.

Did he want you as a wife? That didn’t seem right though. He didn’t appear the romantic type, and his size alone mildly frightened you despite his soft demeanor and speech. Were you to act as a servant? Did he wish to sell you to another area and call it good karma, leaving the matter as that? It ate away until you could no longer stand it, rising from the bed you longed to stay in forever, and slipping out of your room to explore the estate.

It’s shockingly empty.

Not a soul in sight as you explored, stealing bread from the kitchen as you walked, pondering the possibility of ghost servants. You felt silly and dismissed it, but the eerie silence was begining to get to you. You turned and headed for an opening, finally finding a serene courtyard. You were awestruck by the landscape, attention quickly caught as you spot a small pond with a bridge.

Hope bloomed and then flourished as you spotted several fat pretty koi swimming about, different colored patterns moving around and hypnotizing you.

“Ssshhwink!” You jolted in shock at the loud sound of a blade being struck, eyes honing in on the source as you see a training ground of sort in the distance.

Shock was the least of your current emotions as you watched the enormous man, your supposed savior for now, swing around an axe and spiked flail attached to a very long chain. Surrounding him were multiple dummies, made from steel, as if you weren’t already shocked silly. For someone so large, he was graceful and fast, skilled in each tiny movement and it nearly made you think of a dance you’d seen long ago at a festival when you were a child.

He’s no one ordinary. That’s clear enough, and he’s not a samurai it seemed either.

He could kill you quicker than that man before and he could’ve killed that man too but chose not to. Your heart trembled, because you knew those that hesitated left empty handed, and if his goal was merely to rescue and abandon you then you’d find yourself back to being sold off or worse.

You needed him to keep you, no matter how his appearance made your knees weak.

“Are you hungry?”

One week. You’d been in his estate one week and this was the first conversation you’d had with him since that night he saved you.

“Namu Amida Butsu. Thank you.” He accepts the lunch you prepared, as you learned fast that once he’d brought you into his estate, he’d been abandoned by his cooks. His servants who cleaned or kept things in order were incredibly well trained and avoided you similarly. You’d been cooking his meals and leaving them outside his room in the morning, and he’d usually be gone for most of the day until very late evening where you’d leave his dinner outside his small study or prayer room.

This was your first chance to initiate contact with him, and it made you swallow your nerves as you came up eye level with his abdomen. He accepts the tray, sitting at the small table in the open courtyard. He repeats his chants while you observe him up close for a moment.

He is handsome in a rugged way. His scars surprisingly only adding character. His thin lips and long lashes would’ve made many woman jealous as well.

“This is very delicious. You’re a good cook.” You startle lightly from your day dream as you stare at him with wide eyes, his face still tilted down as he eats.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

He hadn’t expected to find your company so pleasant.

Your presence was easy, comfortable and enjoyable after you warmed up more, chattering away similarly to the love Hashira at times. It made a strange sort of fondness form in his chest as he listens to your opinion on cherry blossom season, and why mochi is best served cold.

He finds himself rushing now after missions to return to his estate, something he’d never have done in the past. If only to hear your greeting of “welcome home” which makes the estate he’d been given actually feel like one.

You held his hand a few days ago, pulling him quickly and quietly to feel the soft fur of a sleeping cat you’d taken to adopting. He remembers the feel of your skin, the fragility of your hand within his, and how tiny you are. It shouldn’t affect him like this. Yet even as he sits below the icy fall of water in a lotus pose, his aching erection won’t ebb.

He’s ashamed the first time he wraps one big calloused palm around his leaking shaft and fucks his fist to the thought of you.

He’s even more ashamed when those thoughts haunt him in your presence.

He’s alarmed however when he wakes tonight to the sound of his shoji sliding open. Not by the intruder, your footsteps much louder ironically when you attempt to be quiet, but by the timing.

He released his cock and laid still, strangely nervous to appear asleep should you check.

Why were you in his room?

He chants in his mind when he hears fabric rustling, then a plop on the floor as something slides and falls. Were you… undressing?

His room felt hotter, or it may have possibly been him, as the sound of you nearing alerts him to a reason you’re here tonight.

“I know you are awake.” You sound bemused.

“I know you should be in bed.” He replies more shakily than he’d hoped to sound.

“I am trying, but you won’t seem to move over for me.” His breath hitches, and before he can think he’s scooting aside and feeling anxious for the first time in a long time. He’s too old now to be fearful of such a tiny woman, your charms and allure certainly difficult to dismiss but you shouldn’t make his hands sweat like this.

“Fuck,” he doesn’t mean to curse, but when you press your nude figure tight against his side, he nearly embarrasses himself by finishing what he’d started before you’d interrupted. Not that he nor his cock minded your company, in fact it twitched as if excited about your presence.

“It feels better if you face me.”

“What are you doing?” He feels flustered, hands desperate to grab you but unsure exactly if he should.

“Seducing you…?” He hears now the unsure tone you speak with, the way your fingers curl into his yukata to prevent him from pushing you away. He shifts and turns, the futon thankfully custom for his size and fitting you fully as he finally touches you. Your face first at least.

“Are you looking at me?”

“Yes.”

“Am I pretty?” He chuckles, smile making you press your thighs together due to the sheer masculine charm he oozed.

“You are soft.” He drops his voice as he presses a hand to the middle of your back and pulls you closer. His body radiates heat like none other you’ve ever felt, all pillowy muscles and smelling of sandalwood and sage, and something else beneath it that made your teeth ache. “You are considerate and empathetic.” His hands smooth over your cheeks, nose, forehead, and lips. “You are cute and witty, I find I laugh most in your presence.” His thumbs lightly graze over your eyes. “You are intelligent. I feel I can confide in you and be understood.” Down your jaw and chest, over your shoulders and down your arms to your hands shaking lightly. “You are also mischievous, I never know what you’ll come up with…” his hands come back up, one loosely and easily encircling your entire throat. “Like sneaking into a man’s room in the middle of the night and climbing into his bed naked.” He means to sound chastising but his lust is difficult to mask. Your giggle lets him know you take it lightly.

“Not some man’s room… your room, Gyomei.”

It’s like you want to set him off.

“Should I go?” He can’t deny the way it ignites him to have you here.

“No.” He groans lightly, hands finally taking the dip you’d both been aching for and feeling your chest. “You don’t get to leave now. At least not until you explain what is it is you search for.”

“Relief?” He frowns, but becomes quickly distracted by the malleable flesh in his hands, thumbs brushing over pebbled nipples and drawing little sighs from you.

“A-and… I guess confirmation.” He pinches on little bud, rewarded with a tiny moan and the arching of your back.

“Confirmation for what?” He murmurs, debating if you being atop him would be easier.

“That you like me.” He halts, startled by the confession.

“You thought I didn’t like you?” He clarifies, finally deciding and easily lifting you up by the hips to sit on his stomach, thighs on either side of him.

“I didn’t know if it was the sort between lovers or not…” he nods, finally understanding.

“I want you deeply, sweet girl.” He doesn’t miss the shiver which shakes you when he calls you that, smile tilting higher into a crooked smirk as he lifts his hands and runs them over your ass, gently squeezing each cheek and then moving to touch your thighs.

You don’t speak as he feels you up, quiet aside from small pleasurable mewls when he plays with your breasts or spreads your ass and let’s cool air hit your cunt.

“Do you touch yourself?”

“Y-yes…?”

“To the thought of me?” You feel your body heat.

“Yes. Always to the thought of you.” Your answer makes him groan, hips rutting up into nothing as he squeezes your hips.

“What do I do to you then, in your fantasies.” He’s desperate to know, desperate to recreate it. Your nails dig into the muscle on his chest, dwarfed on top of him like this.

“Oh, well, I… sit on your face.” He quirks a brow at the odd fantasy, unfamiliar with such an act.

“And do what?”

“Let you lick me, down here.” He allows you to guide his hand to the warmest place on your body, his mind blanking as he realizes.

“Oh.”

“We don’t have to do that though, let’s do what you want—oh!” He’s hauling you up like a doll onto his face, thighs spread on either side and your pussy spread and easily accessible now for his mouth. Gyomei doesn’t hesitate now, tongue slipping out as dragging through your folds as if he’s done this before. He hasn’t but he makes up for it with his wide and powerful tongue and eagerness to learn.

“Gyomei! I—ngh~!” Your moan when he licks at your pussy is more than he ever imagined. The wanton swivel of your hips as you grind down only make him more feral, large hands firmly on your ass and keeping you pressed down. Oxygen the least of his concerns as he licks and sucks until your writhing and digging your nails into his hair while you cry out for him.

He likes this act much more than his own daydreams of being intimate with you, the heady taste of your slick and sounds of your pleasure like a drug.

“I’m going to cum—!” You’re so close it’s a wonder you don’t tip over even as he lifts you completely off his face.

“H-huh?” You sound dazed and confused, so cute it makes him want to settle you down on his face again but he stops himself.

You’re on your back, looking up at his figure not blanketing you, one arm keeping him up as he lifts your chin and kisses you. You taste yourself on his lips.

“You can’t cum yet.” You feel irritable having your orgasm denied, pouty expression unseen but tone converting your emotions.

“Why?” Gyomei smiles, kissing you again and forcing your mouth open to play with your tongue, sliding his thigh between your own so you can grind on him for relief.

He breaks away with a string of saliva connecting you for a moment, warm breath fanning over you. “It will hurt taking me, but it will hurt less if you cum while I’m inserting it.”

Oh. It made sense actually.

Except he doesn’t move ahead to fucking you like you wanted, asking you for more fantasies you‘ve had of him.

“Using your fingers…” and he opened you up more than any man has ever with his fingers alone. Two alone stuffing your poor cunt seemingly to max and once more bringing you to the edge until you felt like crying when he pulled away.

“Shh,” he cooes, mildly upset he’s causing you distress and equally amused by how cute he finds your grumbling as he rearranges you again. This time he just rolls your clit gently with his thumb and kisses you, lavishing your neck in love bites you’ll surely need help covering in the morning and then giving attention to your breasts.

“Gyomei please!” Your third denial felt nearly painful, your core cramping with the desperate need for release as you wiggle and struggle beneath him.

“You’ll be very sorry if I take you now, be good for me, little lotus.” He kisses away your tears of frustration, once more spearing you open with two fingers until you’re moaning and rolling your hips into him, then he adds a third.

He stills when you hiss in pain, concern painting his features as he moves to pull them out only for your hand to stop him.

“It’s okay! I’m alright, it just stings a little.”

“We can stop here, I’ll make you cum and we can go back to sleep—,”

“No! I want you, please.”

He feels hesitant until you begin to relax, body finally accepting three fat fingers stretching your little hole out as slick drips down his palm and soaks into bed below.

“G-Gyomei please let me cum, I can take you even if I do, I just need—!” You’re so close again, but he’s stringent as he pulls free from your soft tight walls with a pop. Your whine of frustration goes ignored as he finally reaches his own limit.

“I’m going to sit you in my lap.” You’re pliant in his hold as he sits up and drags you with him, placing your back to his front as he unties his yukata and allows himself to be free. He gives himself a few pumps, balls swinging heavy as he sits down with you.

You regret looking down in curiosity. Having known some men, despite being quite big physically, can have small penises.

Gyomei isn’t one of them apparently, his caution not without cause as you see the enormous cock he carries, the thick veiny shaft frightening and leaking pre-cum like a stream. Even his balls were ridiculously large, and you briefly pondered taking his offer of going to sleep.

You shook it off as you felt a gentle kiss to your temple, body relaxing as he began another round of torture to your clit with more gentle rolls with his fingers.

“Relax for me, you’re being so good, all mine,” he’s mumbling, body tense as he holds himself back and prepares mentally to keep calm as he lifts you up and lets the plush tip kiss your entrance. Then you’re feeling pleasure and pressure like nothing you‘ve ever felt before, mind going blank as you cum while he stuffs you to full capacity, Gyomei similarly struggling as he moans feeling your gooey walls contract and try to push him out even as gravity drags you down on his cock.

“Gyo—hah—!” You can hardly breathe, body struggling to connect the pain while you’re writhing pleasure as he wraps an arm around your waist and lifts you up and down, still touching your swollen nub, bullying his cock into you one inch at a time. Your squeals of shock and euphoria nearly make him lose it, and when his tip finally smushes up against your cervix, he cums hard.

“I-I can feel it filling me—,” your eyes roll back as hot spurts of cum pump into your womb, Gyomei’s arm like an anchor as he groans and rocks you gentle against him.

“Feels so good…” he’d never known sex could feel like this, that you felt like this, but he’s unable to pull out despite his cock becoming sensitive. Instead he keeps you in place, plugging your little hole with his cock and keeping every drop of cum inside you where it belongs.

That thought startles him. Did he want to make you pregnant? Did he want a family?

More than anything—

Gyomei groans, hushing you as you whine and wiggle in his lap, feeling his cock swelling thick and hard again inside you. “Gyomei—s’too much,” you feel like you’ll burst, body already exhausted but he’s hardly done it seems as he begins to bounce you again, feeling more akin to a toy as his shaft splits your pussy open. The slick squelching noises blend with your moans and his grunts, his cock burying itself as deeply as possible each thrust as he murmurs praise down into your ear.

“So good for me. Taking all of me so well,”

“Do you like feeling my cum inside you? Do you want more?”

“I’m going to fill you up again, make you nice and full.”

“Going to put a baby inside you, let everyone know you’re mine now.”

You’re gone, too cock drunk to do much else but cum around him and moan, drool spilling down your chin in a thin line as he takes away all coherent thoughts.

You awake the next morning sore and groggy, face confused as you look at a room not your own.

You glance down at the arm keeping you trapped, merely draped over you but so weighted you’d need to wake him to move.

He got you filthy last night, cum coating all of you inside and out before he’d washed you and put you to bed. The memory brings heat to your face as you burry yourself into the bed and smile.

He’s yours now too.

Your story to be told as one from rags to riches.

Dividers/@cafekitsune

[lainsshop]

I’m Your Man ୨ৎ

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Tags: angst(?), established relationship, out of character(?) n probably more..

Song: I’m Your Man - Mitski

A/N: i really don’t know about this one.. give me your thoughts tho!

Alastor is known as a huge narcissist, sure but you were the only one who got to see the “real” him, not only the real murderous side of him but also the soft spot he has for you. You made him feel.. weak?

Ever since you two got together, he view you as you were apart of him like an accessory but also much more than that, his lover. He absolutely adored you, you really accepted his flaw self even if he doesn’t admit he doesn’t have flaws.

He never wanted to admit to so many things cause he believes one second of him showing his weak self will make his enemies aware of that and it will put him and yourself in even more danger.

You were also the only one who got to see him in a vulnerable state, which is rare to be honest. Maybe he doesn’t wanna worry you, he really doesn’t but every time he’s in that state he would always come to you and you will listen to his words.

“You’re an angel, I’m a dog,” He started to slowly say as you two were in the hotels library. The door was locked, the sound of rain and fire cracking could be heard and a sweet slow tune next to you as you play with his hair and ears carefully.

“… or your dog and I’m your man.” There was times were he gets.. poetic in some way. Luckily, you knew what the meaning of his words meant.

He didn’t looked at you in the eyes. “You believe me like a God,” He continued. “I’ll destroy you like I am-” Oh, he could. He could easily hurt you in a second, he doesn’t tho. You being so near to him is like a risk to both of you cause he never hesitates to do anything. Like that night..

“I’m sorry I’m the one you love..” You see, you two met when you were alive, you were a lil bit younger than him by that time and he involved you into his weird habits like killing people, cannibalism, so much more and then your death..

Deep down, he blamed himself for that. That night, he took you into the woods to hide a body, usually it went well but then you guys got mistaken as a deer and the hunter got you first.. he looked at you dead body and then- he woke up in hell.

He couldn’t even process what happened in that exact moment so when he appeared in hell, he wasn’t surprised at all but then he remembered you. He genuinely thought you went to heaven but then again.. you helped him so he looked around.

“No one will ever love me like you again, my dear,” He finally looked at you as he grabbed you hand and gave it a small kiss. “So when you leave me, I should die.. I deserve it, don’t I?”

You froze a bit at that. You looked at him with a surprised, shocked and worried expression. “Al-” “I can feel it gettin’ near like flashlights comin’..” You wanted to tell him how much you meant you him, how even if he’s not the affectionate type or how much of a bad he is, you still loved him ever since the day you met but-

“One day, you’ll figure me out..” There was apart him that you really didn’t knew and he feared that. He feared that one day you’ll know more about him, more deeper about him and leave him. You knew his murderous way, yes but do you actually?

“I’ll meet judgement by the hounds,” A silent scratchy static could be heard as he said the last word. He was still smiling as he spoke.

“You always gave me love, you were never to blame after all, mon ange..” He looked at you with a bit of sad soft eyes as he cups your cheek and his thumb strokes your under eye.

The sudden sound of dogs start to appear outside in the rain. You two looked at each other as you had watery eyes trying not to get emotional or anything. There was silence between you two until-

“You believe me like a God-” A tear fell down your cheek. You suddenly hug him, not too tight, just enough to show him that you cared about him and you didn’t care how he really is.

He started to caress your hair. “I’ll betray you like a man.”

© LAINSSHOP 2024

[flightofthejackdaw]

I just want to say how much I adore the women of One Piece, not just on a ‘holy moly these women are beautiful’ but also on ‘holy moly these women are so well written’

I love how many layers the lady’s have, even those who are not part of the main cast

Nami acting as the brains of the crew, but always being up to scrap with the boys and put them in their place, her fear of trusting and being betrayed being a core aspect of her character. WCI and Wano are pretty recent examples of this, with her anger at Sanji, and her belief in Luffy. I love how confident she is in her self, and how she is a little evil sometimes she’ll use everything at her disposal to get what she wants. How she knows that she’s needed on the crew and without her they would’ve all drowned along ago, and she’s beautiful and cute and she knows this. I hate people thinking that she’s less of a character post timeskip just because of her appearance, she’s so much more than that

Vivi’s love of her people and her country, her worrying nature and her desire for adventure despite her position. Her care for the crew despite the small amount of time she knew them. Also how she’s basically the main character of Alabasta, and how she’s the one saving her country

Robin going from someone who was always looking over her shoulder, always running and never having a real place to call home. To someone who knows she has a family who loves her and will protect her no matter what, and she can be her strange morbid self without judgement (other than from Usopp)

Viola and Rebecca, two ladies forced into a living hell under Dolfamingo. One humiliated by her own people and forced to fight for her life when at heart she just wanted peace, and the other whose soul was almost broken by Doffy but chose to fight against him even if she knew she wouldn’t win. Viola going to stab Doffy even if she knew she would fail shows her strength as she stood up against him even if it could’ve meant death because she wanted to do what she could

And there are so many others that are just as amazing:

- Big Mom: a major villain with a twisted idea of family and love. One of the most powerful pirates in the sea, all this strength but she’s still just someone that was abandoned by the world and became obsessed with filling that void

- Pudding: a woman twisted by the abuse she suffered hating herself and lashing out at others in turn. And how that persona comes crashing down when showed only a bit of kindness

- Boa: the strong powerful empress, who is deeply scarred and can’t show any weakness to her people. And just wants to be loved by someone who sees more than her beauty

-Reiju: the older sister that had to go along with her little brothers abuse, and helped when she could. But only when she couldn’t be the target, she’s flawed and distant but she loves her brother

- Bonny: a literal child who braved the seas to save her father and became one of the most wanted pirates of her generation in under two years, scrappy and tomboyish with a soft heart for her dad

These ladies are living breathing characters! And there are some many others that are just the same, they are all so well developed and different from each other in character. And none of them are just there to be, ‘the girl in the group’ or the ‘love interest’ (though Boa likes Luffy and Pudding likes Sanji neither are their main character traits and have story reasons for being in love)

I love them so much

I love women

A certified girl kisser wrote this at like 1 am

[esotericpluto]

messages from your future spouse

from left to right; intuitively choose the pile you feel more connected to. To make it easier, you can take a deep breathe, close your eyes and ask for guidance to your deities or guides. These are all general messages, so just take what resonates and leave what doesn't. This reading is timeless. If it resonates, feedback is always appreciated and motivates to keep doing pick a card readings.

these are intuitively channeled messages. I also channeled a book and looked at the quotes until I found the one that I intuitively matches your story better.

pile 1

sunshines, rainbows, picnics, lakes, swans, ducks and bunnies is the energy this pile is giving me. It feels like your future spouse is looking forward to taking you to such dates and it seems like they cannot wait until this becomes a reality as you will be their sunshine.

"It is you and me against the world. You are everything for me, my flower, my castle, my sun, my moon, my world. Never leave me and I'll make you the happiest person in the world. We are in this together and I'll never abandon you. I'll be your lighthouse and guide you and you will be my candle in every unknown path of life. We are one and I can't wait until we marry and have children. I am sure they will have your beautiful eyes. We will me meeting soon, just trust your heart and let go of fear"

"She began now to comprehend that he was exactly the man who, in disposition and talents, would most suit her. His understanding and temper, though unlike her own, would have answered all her wishes. It was an union that must have been to the advantage of both: by her ease and liveliness, his mind might have been softened, his manners improved; and from his judgement, information, and knowledge of the world, she must have received benefit of greater importance.” – Pride & Prejudice

pile 2

I feel like your future husband has tendency to act rough and strong, even in moments where they just want to break down and hold onto softness. Strength and resillience become weary and too much of a weight to endure and carry after so long, especially after years of going through so many hardships, difficulties and even traumas. Your future spouse struggles with opening up, with letting someone in, with showing vulnerabity or even some form of weakness.

However, they are telling me, and this is the message for you, that you make them feel like they are safe and taken care of. You are the warmth in their coldest days, you make them feel secure and like they can finally lean on someone, like they don't have to go through everything alone. With you they will learn how to trust, how to break down their barriers, their fears, their deepest worries. They want to give you the world and will defend you and protect you from everything they want. They are definitely the type to be very bold and strong towards other, but a full sweetheart towards you and this is something that will greatly enrich your heart.

I feel like they are telling me that you will also be scared at first as you will feel as if they are going to break your heart. They can assure you they would not, they would rather the whole world ending than your love going away and they will stick to their words and promises. Trust your intuition always.

"The first symptom of true love in a man is timidity, in a young woman, boldness" – Les Miserables

pile 3

"If we have had many ups and downs, many struggles, many back and forths. I thought I would lose you for real, that I had truly messed up, yet we are here again. You are in front of me, in this altar, in this sanctuary of love, exchanging vows. You made me the happiest person in the world and I can only thank you for that. I am sorry for failing you like I did, I am sorry you had to see the worst parts of myself the way you did and if I could give you the universe to compensate you, I would.

I am glad we could meet again, be together again. I knew our hearts would always find our way back to each other. I saw you in my dreams, I remember you from past lives. Our love was destined and nothing that could have happened could have separated us or changed that. You are my angel, my salvation, my inspiration to become better everyday. You have a shine in your eyes that lights up my smile. Thank you for giving me another chance".

I do not think this is an ex (although, for a minority of you, it is possible). It feels more like someone who you will still meet, have a separation with and find your way back to each other eventually. They seem to have really learnt from their mistakes and will do everything in their power to show that to you.

"Good-bye, till we meet then—I embrace you warmly, warmly, with many kisses. Yours till death." – Crime and Punishment

[emmaofnormandy]

Imagine Aegon comes to comfort you.

Warnings: drama, angst because of reasons; fluffy though because we love writing fluffy Aegon. Long post.

***

What a strange bond you and the lord Aegon share. As the daughter of Ser Gwayne of House Hightower, you were raised as part of the Targaryen family since you could remember—but comparison, implicitly as it was, was always there.

You always aimed to please so what else could you do if not doing as told? You were raised to be like your royal aunt but your sweet nature prevented to emulate her flaws. Indeed your wit was as sharp as knife and your tongue could ricochet when provoked, but only your looks could tell what were you doing amidst an incestuous family.

Nevertheless, against all odds you did get well with them. How could it not be? You were raised with your cousins, but it was Aegon who climbed your walls and knocked them out.

Though he’s expected to marry his sister, it’s you whom he follows everywhere. There are whispers at court, but, as you told your aunt once, where there are tongues, words will be spoken.

Yet… now you are a young woman, in an age close to marry. You have no dragons to ride and all you can brag is about winning Aemond over poetry competition.

At times you are next to Helaena, but you feel outshone by your sweet cousin.

What is this, what is this that torments me so?

You have demons to fight underneath your mask of duty and you do not like when they crave their claws on your flesh. So today you withdraw, certain that no one is going to notice your absence.

When you do so, melancholy has you on its trap. You are swallowed by it, there staying whilst your footsteps automatically sway out of their view. You dissociate, rewinding the times you disappointed every one you know.

Perhaps what is worse is the day Princess Helaena and Prince Aegon’s betrothal is announced. You found yourself wishing to be in her shoes, the perfect Princess.

Disgusted by mundane sentiments you are suffocated when confronted by your imperfections. You need some air. Perhaps the gardens will offer some solution.

Barefoot, your Hightower curls are blown off your head the more you run into the labyrinth of green towers of leaves and pomades. Tears roll out, uninvited, as if the grip around them is now loose. Because at the center of this rarely visited labyrinth lies a cold stoned bench where you sit and burst into silent, painful tears.

*

Even a merry prince as himself needs some moment to himself. Regardless of how fearful he is of loneliness—which is usually mistaken as a moment of fragility—, Aegon feels in the air that not all is well as it should.

It takes no more than a few minutes to notice the lady Y/N Hightower’s escape of the court. He sighs. Thus the recollections begin as the silver haired Targaryen royal retraces your steps.

I remember well, my lady, when we bonded. It was odd that someone laughed at my sarcastic remarks; that a relative would appreciate my fierceness, or even compliment my efforts in reading messy words.

Whenever I was faulted for not being hard working like Aemond, or when envy consumed my poor soul for being overshadowed by Rhaenyra, you stood for me. You held my hand, dismissed my fragilities and reassured me I was as good as any of them. You encouraged me flying with Sunfyre when I was anguished before the Strong boys. You never failed to surprise me, a deed few—if any at all—accomplished.

But I was so selfish…. When you fell, where was I? When you wept, where was I? When your strength was shaken, I failed you. I blinded myself because I supposed you and Aemond were too bright to burn. I whored because the idea of you led me to believe I was unworthy—as my mother often remarked that she found our friendship rather unusual, uncommon, unmatched: you, the perfection; me, the broken man.

Indeed she has been correct in her judgement. But reason often tormented me because I am too weak to surpass myself. Where there are obstacles, I see an invitation to encourage my sins; where there are defiances, I convince myself I lack capacity to overcome them.

I am not brave. No, my precious lady. This errant prince is unworthy of your affection. Nonetheless… I will rescue you. You will see that I am capable of loving, even if this means to admit I cannot be loved.

The sight of you in complete distress makes him rush his steps. Part of him is relieved to see you haven’t done anything imprudent, but another prays anxiously for whatever deity that he is not the cause of your atonement.

“Goodness!”, you almost cry out when you see Aegon. You stand quickly, trying to recompose yourself. “A-Aegon! I mean, my lord cousin.”

You try desperately to omit your distress, to conceal your anxiety, but Aegon sees through you. The prince holds your wrists and pulls you against him.

“Don’t. Don’t do this, Y/N.”

Still holding a hand over your right wrist, he releases his free hand to gently brush away your eyes, after lifting your chin so he can read the pain in them.

“We’ve already surpassed this phase, haven’t we? It’s long gone since that day where… well, where we had mutual accusations of distrust”, says he, pleased to make you chuckle lightly.

“True. We are not children anymore”.

The distance is short. Shorter than what usually is. You can smell his scent, which only infuriates your racing heart.

“Then why are you running away?”

You sigh. Something about his long gaze at you, at the kindness behind his lilac irises, at the soft smile on his lips… is enough to disperse your insecurities.

“I am not running away.”

It’s a weak protest, a lie that Aegon knows what it really means. He once used it to shy away everyone who dares to approach him. For some reason, this old tactic never worked with you. It is only natural that it has no success with him as well.

“You are not well. What troubles you, my sweet? Always the dutiful daughter, always the merry one of us all, the prideful daughter of Old Town.” He strokes your cheek once more. “The stories we created, the past I was part of… cannot be just that.”

“We forged a very good bond, didn’t we?”

“Indeed.” Then a flash of hurt crosses his gaze for a moment. “Is it what it is, though? A good bond is what we have?”

And just like that you set yourself free of his touch. Where there was warmth, now there is cold.

“I cannot… Do not make me say what I may regret. Leave me to my pain, to be tormented by my delusions.”

“I may be many of the things I am accused of. However, to be careless is not one of them.” Aegon takes you by your arm, forcing you to turn at him. “Tell me I am only a memory, that we are nothing.”

“I was always yours, cousin. But you were never mine”, you burst out what’s been killing you. “I am not Helaena. Nor a Targaryen can I be considered! What am I? Who am I? Somewhere along the lines I became what is expected! But I lost myself in the process.”

“I will not sacrifice us for duty!” He holds you against him, your frame tied in between his arms. You find the same anguish in his eyes, the old desperation that equals yours, an entire ocean of profound sentiments that invite to an inevitable drowning.

Cupping your cheeks with his hands, he stares back at yours.

“It pains me that I am not able to take away your suffering. Miserable is the man who cannot uphold a sword to battle his damsel’s torments. For years I accepted that I failed before the world. But when it comes to you, Y/N, I am not afraid of the dark. I am not that fucking cunt. You never left me on my own. Unworthy as I am, hardly magnanimous as others might suggest to make me their jest, you remain.”

“I am a sinner, Aegon. Filth with…”

He covers your mouth, impeding words to come out of your disgraced soul any longer.

“For years we repressed it. Nay, Y/N. Do not make us miserable anymore. I shall make you mine at the cost of all.” And yet when battles seemingly obstinate at the cost of your breakdown, he holds you close. “Come here. Let us leave this world, uh? I know exactly what you deserve.”

You stay there for a moment, taking his words as what you need to hear. What you need to heal. Aegon is your balsam, and this is touching in many ways.

The rogue prince, rejected by all of those who, by blood, are moved by this familiar pretense of loving him, is someone else’s solace. You, often the strong one, so sensible and reasonable, rely on his feeble, meek prince whose divinity is nothing but a mask.

Thus you stay. And he loves you more than he can admit.

*

Sunfyre seems to smile at you when Aegon gleefully takes you to him.

“Come now. He won’t bite you!”, your rogue prince beams at you. He extends his hand at you. “Do you honestly think this is a privilege I give everyone I know?”

His golden scaled dragon seems to huff as if to say: “Indeed, my lady. Do you honestly think I would allow anyone to ride me besides Aegon?”

You giggle softly. Aegon sees you blushing, the idea of enjoying a privilege few would ever do makes you suddenly shy. Your face is adorably pink, a great sight to behold when adding to it your loose curly red hair.

“Well?”

“I do not mean to keep you waiting”, you take his hand, enjoying the warmth of your fingers locked. “Thank you for having me, Sunfyre.”

The winged creature looks at you pompously, a very adorable sight that makes you smile.

“How can one not smile before the most beautiful dragon there has ever been?”, says Aegon, resting his face against Sunfyre’s forehead. “Heavens know this is just… unmatched.”

“You have a very strong bond with this one”, you observe, smiling.

“He understands me like no other”, Aegon smiles as Sunfyre confirms him with its own way of showing tenderness. “We belong to each other.”

“Indeed. I am pleased he takes you as who you are. It is what it should have always been.”

“Come now. Let us fly!”

You take the hand offered even though you are not dressed for the occasion. As Sunfyre opens its wings and begins to fly, his hands around your waist ensure you that you are safe.

“You may be Targaryen in your own way, Y/Nickname”, Aegon whispers in your ear. “But I prefer you being Hightower. It has a better ring to it, hasn’t it? Lady Y/N Hightower.”

You giggle like a little girl. Oh, once upon a time you dreamed of this moment. It is unique, indescribable. He is so close to you, carefree and merry.

His arms around your waist as he leads the way when pulling the reins of Sunfyre, at the same time letting it be leaded by this beautiful golden winged creature.

Wind blows your hair, messing it all the way as you fly higher and maybe a choked sound comes out of your throat. Adrenaline runs in your veins and for a second you fear you are about to fall.

“Trust in me, my lady! You are safe with me!”, Aegon chuckles quietly.

You can only nod. Despite the fear, you trust your guts, and delegate all the power to him. Aegon’s face is close to yours so he can read your expressions, the subtle change in your countenance quite clear. And yet when you relax, when your shoulders are light again, he knows the value of your trust.

Taking the opportunity to surprise you, he is bold enough to press his lips against your cheek.

“Oh, Aegon!”, you blush, batting your eyelashes timidly.

“Are you enjoying this adventure?”, Aegon looks so content like he hasn’t been in years.

When your gazes meet, you forget that he is promised to another. You are led to believe he is delegating his heart to your possession. Against reason, you nurture hope.

“More than I deserve. Thank you for cheering me up.”

“Anything for my lady”, and even up in the skies he takes your hand and presses a kiss on it.

This time Sunfyre flies slowly, stable as it is up in the air. It is when Aegon takes his time to enjoy it with you.

“Aegon…”, you hesitate.

“Yes?”

He waits. When he does so, eyes are locked in a long gaze. He notices the color that paints your irises, the red that paints your curls, your long nose and heart-shaped face. Sweet features that mirror the kindness within. Your lips tremble and the prince is eager to hear those words.

Those three words that he too is eager to pronounce, tasting them for the first time in a lifetime of rage and frustration.

“I am scared to speak my mind.”

Aegon puts a hand over your chin, his callous hand moving higher to cup your cheek. To fight away the remaining shadows of your heart, right at the twilight, he knocks his pride down when choosing to be the one to say what must be said.

“Y/N Hightower, throughout these years my cold heart has been endeared to a new sentiment of a kind I never experimented before, often judged to never feel it because I was deemed unworthy of it. The root to my heart has been uneasy, I know, and yet you took it with the bravery of your gentleness.”

As the words come out so naturally, you blush deeper. You’d look away if he doesn’t make you stay and see the truth in his gaze.

“You, the very center of my heart, have grown more than a companion, a cousin, someone with whom I share blood. Nights grow cold without you, I sinned hopelessly because I thought…” Aegon sighs, impatient with himself. “All of this is to say that I love you.”

To his surprise, you cup his face with your hands and lock your lips with his. Right as the sun starts to go down, as the colors of twilight begin to paint the skies, every doubt is solved, every shadow dissipates.

It is a peaceful kiss, perfectly paired even if it starts sloppy. Sunfyre hums happily as if to put a soundtrack to this moment where Aegon Targaryen is genuinely happy for the first time in years.

“I love you, Aegon”, you rest your forehead against his. “Whatever it comes, never forget how endeared you are.”

He cannot argue when you say in such a sweet manner. You convince him that with patience and time, love flourishes.

And you stay like this for a while.

***

Aegon’s eyes are glued in you. Today you are dancing with Princess Helaena by her side at a feast that honours the king’s name day.

“Lady Y/N must be a witch”, muses Aemond out of the blue.

“What for?”, Aegon casts a frown at his younger brother. “Do not dessacralize her name like this, Aemond.”

“Oh. So you are far more smitten than I have assumed”, Aemond raises his eyebrows. “And here I was presuming you’d make her one of your mistresses…considering whom you are betrothed to.”

“Assume what you want. Lady Y/N is not a mistress, no.”

His brother cannot believe his ears. Is this an scandal in the making?

“You cannot be serious. Aegon…”

“What? All I can do is displease others as it seems. They are not content when I do as told. It is time to take my life with my own hands.”

“This will not end well.”

“We shall try and see.”

Aegon stands impatiently and moves to where you are. He knows all eyes are set on him: courtiers hold their breath when you come at his meeting. But what do they know when love is clear in the eyes of the Cupid’s victims?

Helaena, who knew from day one where this would go, smiles to you and excuses herself to Aemond’s side—which only served to leave Alicent astonished, but not entirely displeased since she likes you.

What indeed comes out as a shock is that Aegon has eyes to no other but you.

“We are making it obvious”, you murmur.

“Let it be so. I have no shame in showing my affection for you.”

“Aegon, but you are promised to another”, he sees the pain it comes when acknowledging this fact.

Hands are held and bodies dance when he says calmly:

“Betrothals are often brokered. It happens under uncertainties until marriages are certain.”

You cast him a long wide gaze.

“You cannot be serious..”

Aegon smiles at you in a way few have seen it. The dance comes to an end and he bows before you, lingering a kiss on your wrist without parting gazes.

“I am most serious in my intentions, lady Y/N.”

***

You are occupied with embroidery, lost in your thoughts by the time the queen comes to meet you.

“Y-Your Grace, my aunt”, you dip to a gracious curtsy, blushing as you do so, aware of the reason why she suddenly came to see you.

“No need formalities, child”, she gives you a small smile. “I came to talk to you. I believe you know why.”

As you mutter some answer, Queen Alicent is reminded of herself. You could have been her daughter had she been married off to a nobleman of a house like Tyrell. Not only that but some traits you possess makes her lament how she wasted her youth being a puppet to serve her father’s ambition.

Painful remembrances. And yet… you are tracing a better path than she ever did.

“I am not angry at you, dear child. I should have assumed any of this would result. To be honest, your grandsire was hoping to marry you to Aemond, seeing how similar you are.” Alicent smiles, clearly judging otherwise. “Well, Helaena was closer to Aemond than you in any case.”

“I have nothing to say against lord Aemond, my queen, but it is true that I am closer to lord Aegon.”

“I neglected to consider your sentiments in these matters much as mine were discarded by the time… Oh, never mind. It does little good to dwell in the past”, she now takes your hand. “Aegon surprised me for the first time. He is strongly decided to make you his wife.”

“Oh”, you cannot disguise your surprise. You have to put a hand on your heart as if to prevent you to pass out. “He actually means it!”

Queen Alicent chuckles at your reaction.

“I was shocked too myself, but the king and I are happy to see a change in his comportment. For which on behalf of the crown I thank you and officially welcome you to this disfunctional family, dearest Y/N.”

You laugh quietly. For the first time in a long time your demons are defeated and you taste a safe victory. This is not about comparisons anymore, nor to be gushed by insecurities. Aegon has helped you heal in many, many ways.

***

A few moons later…

“I thought I was not born for happiness”, you confide him right after you landed with Sunfyre.

Since the day Aegon and you were married, the king granted the newly weds a household so you could enjoy your privacy. Ever since this day, Springhall has been your home.

“Why would you say that, Y/Nickname?”, he holds your arm against him as you two walk side by side back inside. “Stealing from me the typical phrasing effect?”

You chuckle quietly.

“No, I mean every word I said. When circumstances forced me to acknowledge my feelings for you, Aegon, I never thought you’d correspond. I felt as if I loved a star too high to grasp.”

It is your way with words that move his heart. It is how these echo the sincerity with your devotion that bends a prideful man like him. Aegon stops the pace and turns you around.

“It pains me that you have gone through difficult months, withdrawn to a heavy pressure of expectations your mother and father laid on you. Even more that I disappointed you with my wayward manners”, he takes your fingers and kisses each for a long time.

Summer breeze blows his hair, and you seem to notice this day he is not dressing dark shade of green, but a light one instead, which matches yours.

“We tend to get lost in our way when we are not properly guided, I’m afraid. But I cannot excuse my past, when I was given the chance to write a better future. Your unending loyalty to me, Y/N… Gods. I could list to all of your virtues that charmed me… In fact, let me do it.”

He keeps his words. Your self esteem has never been higher. A man like him to praise yourself in this manner… Oh, how many skeptical persons would have mocked this possibility?

To be loved like a fair damsel in these stories you read is a reality you’ve thought impossible. You knew your dreams were prompted to be sacrificed by the duties to serve your family, but alas! The impossible is now possible!

“What a joy you give me to be your wife”, you say more tearful than you know.

“You are my heart’s queen, my heart’s gleam, light of my life, my sun and stars. I am devoted to you until the last breath of this body.”

You take his hands and plants a kiss on each, holding his fingers firmly as you look at him with a spark in your gaze.

“My best beloved, I could not find happiness elsewhere but with you. My soul rejoices when yours is close to mine, when day and night I can love you right. Oh, you light my life and lead the way to Seven Paradises!”

“My poetess!”

And saying so, he kisses you under sunlight.

***

• Epilogue.

Prince Aegon’s marriage has not only proven to be a great surprise to many and a true delight to all, but in many ways it was scandalous too.

Specially because he formally abdicated of his rights to the crown to spend his lifetime with you. By giving these to his younger brother, Aemond, well… Ser Otto Hightower might have to adjust his plans. And your sweet demeanor makes it difficult to be blamed for such a decision. Besides, you found in your father a good supporter at court so all is well that ends well.

Before the great series of events that are coming, you give Aegon a number of children to occupy yourselves to. These are:

1. Aegon, named after his father.

2. Rhaena, his twin.

3. Alysanne.

4. Daena.

5. Daeron.

6. Jaehaerys.

7. Maekar.

8. Daenys.

And two miscarriages. What is intriguing is that by the time King Viserys’ death, you and Aegon are found living your lives quietly in Essos.

So when war comes, Aemond starts to question himself.

Where is Aegon? Can he be counted on for this war? Or should he better be left in his domestic affairs?

But these speculations run out of this scope. Besides, it’s not as if Aegon and Y/N Targaryen would pose any danger to Aemond and Helaena’s inheritance… Right?

Whatever it is, some things are better left unsaid. And you and Aegon content yourselves with this very peaceful scenario…

[animeyanderelover]

I'm having a tiny bit of a Mihawk brainrot if you can't tell. I'm not sure if his past was ever really elaborated on so there are most likely mistakes in my interpretation because I am not caught up to the Anime yet.

Just imagine...

Growing up together with the very boy that will in the future claim not only the title of "Strongest Swordsman in the World" but will also eventually become one of the Seven Warlord's of the sea. Hawk Eyes Mihawk is a name that will one day struck fear in everyone that hears it, whether it's a pirate, a marine or an innocent citizen.

Yet you have known him ever since both of you were just tiny children. You know all of his quirks, his likes and dislikes and all of his most sacred secrets and most embarrassing moments which he made you promise would be kept only between the two of you.

And Mihawk knows you just as much. He knows of all your dreams and your biggest fears, has been your shoulder to cry on whenever your heart was struck with grief, has witnessed all of your shenanigans and despite his better judgement has even participated in some of your reckless decisions, even if to simply be the one who ultimately saves you from any big troubles.

The dynamic between the two of you has always been like this. You have always been the dreamer, the one who has their heads in the clouds and loves romanticising everything. He can't even recall how often you spent your time excitedly recounting to him a dream you had in your sleep or proclaimed to him excitedly about a new ambition you had in life, every week a new one. One time you told him you wanted to be a doctor, another one you wanted to be a vet and the next time you announced your new dream of wanting to be a shipwright. You were like a pot just foaming over with dreams and positivity.

Mihawk on the other hand has always been your voice of reasoning and the guardian who is always right next to you when your excitement led to an impulsive and poorly made choice. He has always been the one who was your silent yet loyal shadow and the one you could always count on, even if he has dubbed you as an "idiot". He has always been the one who just sat there and silently listened to all of your excited rambling when the words were tumbling out faster from your mouth than you could form them, even despite reminding you that you should probably soon make up your mind whenever you discarded your old dream for a new one. You truly are a scatterbrained fool at times yet he has a weak spot for that bright glimmer in your eyes, a light as bright as the sun.

As adolescence catches up with you two, you stay the same dreamy fool who tends to daydream throughout the day, so deeply immersed in your own thoughts that time and your surroundings are forgotten.

Mihawk remains as the one person you are closest with and is the one who protects you from walking into doors, buildings or people when he realises that you space out again as you let your imagination run wild. Yet as he grows up from a boy to a man, his feelings for you mature. Both of you have always been exceptionally close to each other but it is only as his mind matures and becomes more complex that he starts questioning how he truly feels about you. You have always been the dearest person to his heart but as a child he has never truly considered your relationship as deeply as he does now. You've just always been the person he has known best and with whom he has shared the most, from the good to the bad. You have always been special to him yet it is only now that he realises just how special you really are to him.

He loves you.

He loves your ditzy and airheaded personality, your joyful laugh and the constant glow in your eyes as you look at the world around you as if you are discovering it for the first time and he especially loves the excited shimmer in your eyes when you tell him about your dreams.

Knowledge alone is only half the work though. Mihawk, who was back then only a flicker of what he will be in the future, doesn't know how to express those emotions he has for you. All he knows that he feels very intensely for you and he finds himself overwhelmed with this discovery. It is all chaotic and hectic inside of his heart and his mind. It is something new that frightens him over so slightly as he doesn't know how to control his feelings just yet which is why he decides to wait. To wait until he has understood his love for you a bit better before he will tell you how he feels about you.

Eventually both of you leave the island you grew up together in favor setting sail and heading towards the Grand Line. Both of you had dreams of your own yet neither one of you was at that time ready to separate from each other just yet. Mihawk's feelings for you have only grown since he became cognizant of them for the first time and they only intensify with each passing day, not enabling him to understand them nor to fully control them.

So used has he grown to having you all for himself though that he finds himself uncomfortable and possessive when you choose to engage with locals on an island both of you have landed on, an eerily intense look in those golden eyes of his that seemingly try to pierce the very soul of the person you choose to give your attention too despite him standing right next to you. It always spooks people and you can only slap him on his chest as you chastise him for his rude behavior, although he knows that you are never truly mad at him. Even he is secretly just glad that you give him your undivided attention again, even if he is grumbling as he defends himself against your little lectures.

Both of you enter the Grandline together and it is then that you finally decide to bring up the idea of you two finally separating. Initially Mihawk is quite reluctant as you suggest that idea to him. Wouldn't it be safer for both of you to stick together? After all neither of you two knows what lies ahead in those oceans. You are quite persistent though as you explain to him that you would like to achieve your dreams by yourself and that you think he should do the same. You clarify yourself by assuring him that you don't plan to never see him again but that you would like to do your best without his help with your own strength.

He feels the lump in his throat as he hears your reasons behind your suggestion, his mind struggling to imagine how it would be if you wouldn't been with him and he finds himself drawing a blank as soon as he attempts to consider it. You are someone he has always known throughout his entire life and even hearing your suggestion has his heart shaking with the thought of your absence if that were to really happen.

You two have always been together. Why would you want to change that now?

Both of you spend a lot of time arguing over this issue but ultimately you win him over, the light in your eyes persuading him by tugging at all of his heartstrings. His obsession has just started to bud and it isn't until a while later that it springs to its full awakening which is why Mihawk eventually caves in and agrees to your suggestion.

Both of you separate at the next island you land on but both of you make a promise to each other. That you'll meet again on this very island one year from now on to see how far you two have come with your dreams.

His heart is heavy when both of you bid each other goodbye, his hands holding yours tightly as he relishes one last time for the next long year in your brightness. The words he has been wanting to tell you for a while now linger on his tongue, the temptation strong to let you know about his feelings for you in a last feeble hope that his love may change your mind. Yet he knows as he looks into your beaming eyes that your mind has already been set so he can only swallow his feelings back, although he vows that when you two will see each other again, he will be strong enough to finally confess his love to you.

One year passes and he returns to the same island as a completely different person. Within only one year Mihawk has risen to unbelievable fame. He feels content with what he has achieved within the last year as he has grown into the strong man he swore to be one year ago on this very island and considers himself now ready to finally tell you about how he truly feels for you. The budding obsession as blossomed over the last year as your absence has forced him to fully acknowledge as well as embrace everything he has been feeling for you and now more than ever before does Mihawk plan to keep you by his side.

Only that you never show up.

Initially Mihawk decides to ignore the growing heaviness in his heart as he decides that maybe you experience some delay. The weather in the Grandline is after all infamous for its changing mood. So he waits for you.

One day.

Two days.

Three days...

With every sunset that he witnesses on the island, he feels a part of him silently dying with it. Emotions brew up inside of him as a few days turn into nearly an entire month and he finally can't deny the haunting truth anymore he has been trying to deny.

You won't return.

His heart shatters as he finally acknowledges this fact. There are so many emotions inside of him, far too many for him to identify each one of them as they blur together into one big storm that has his chest tightening and his heart silently screaming.

Why didn't you return?

He can only come up with two possible explanations and he truly doesn't know which one would be worse. Either you have forgotten about him and the promise you two made or you have died on the sea.

He dedicates months trying to find out the truth about what happened to you. He reads every single newspaper, somehow dreading yet hoping to find an article mentioning your name yet he is always left disappointed. He travels to the island he knew you were heading to after both of you separated in hopes of gathering information yet no one from the locals can give him any useful information about you. He goes through all the newest bounty posters to see if your name and face appear anywhere only to be left with a growing hole in his heart.

The last hope of his is finally shattered when he sails all the way back to the place both of you grew up in only to be met with the same dreadful emptiness as no one in the town has heard of you since him and you left the island on a ship over a year ago.

Nothing.

There is no trace of your existance in the world, no matter how long he searches for you as if you were only a fickle imagination of his own. He doesn't know whether you have forgotten about him, if something has happened to you or if you have met your end somewhere on those unpredictable seas.

It is a torment unlike anything he has ever experienced as the lack of knowledge drains him slowly and tortures him as he is unable to find any closure. No matter what, Mihawk seems to be destined to suffer one way or another. Hope is titled as the most beautiful thing in the world yet it is hope that only prolongs his suffering as a part of him is unable to accept the possibility of your death until he has proof.

As months turn into years, his heart shrinks and withers like a flower deprived of water and sunlight. The ambitious and determined man turns into a husk of what he was, his dream stolen from him without having been able to do anything. There is a growing resentment sharply directed against himself as the last few days with you haunt him.

He shouldn't have agreed to separate from you. If he would have just been more insistent, would you still be here with him?

The anguish of his lost dream nestles itself deeply into his shriveled heart as the perpetual heartbreak changes him. Colours seem to fade from the world around him as a feeling of numbness spreads like roots in the earth. There is nothing that excites him anymore, not even when he is dubbed as the strongest swordsman in the world. The title and the reputation that comes with it hold no meaning to him anymore, not when he doesn't have you to share his glory with. The hole in his chest is torn open as time flies by and every ship that crosses his path is dragged into his suffering as he wields Yoru against them. There is no meaning behind the carnage he leaves behind but he has lost sight of why he should care, the dwelling bitterness and sorrow inside of him tainting his honor.

He has lost the ability to live, feels more akin to a ghost as he drifts through the seas and clashes with opponents who are swatted away like flies only to be forgotten by him soon after.

There is a new listlessness clinging to him, his sharp eyes unable to see the worthwhile in this world now that you are gone. Everything is buried deep inside his chest and mind though so that no one can ever have those memories and feelings he has shared with you. Some people hoard gold and jewels, Mihawk's most precious treasure are the memories he has made with you over the years as there is nothing else he has left of you.

When the Marine offers him the title of a Warlord, he is only half the man he used to be. Surely you would have objected to this offer as you have always been rather warily of the government and if he would have been the man he once was, he would have sliced the person who had made such a ridiculous offer to him into dices.

That man is already dead though...

He accepts the offer after a while, although not because he is suddenly fond of the very people he used to hunt down. He just doesn't know what he should do with himself anymore. It feels like his life has halted and is just waiting for you to return, even if by now he has a feeling that he will never see you again, forever left in the darkness about your fate.

Someone once said that time heals all wounds. Those words are a lie. Mihawk doesn't heal as years just seem to trickle by faster than he can even realise. There is nothing of substance to his life, nothing worth to remember. Only the hole where his heart used to be reminds him that he is still breathing, the haunting emptiness inside of him something that will remain the only thing loyal to him until his body rots away.

The presence is barely something he takes notice of as he only lives in the past in his mind, clinging to every memory he has of you out of unadulterated fear that he may eventually forget what your voice sounded like or how you always looked at him with those bright eyes. If even those memories were to abandon him, he would lose even the grasp of his own identity within the never-ending cycle of the dull and forgetful life he lives now.

Many years later a miracle happens though. He finds you. On a random island within the Grand Line, he finds you again.

He doesn't even want to believe it when he initially sees your face. Maybe his mind is just playing tricks on him out of delusional desperation but as golden eyes trail you, he realises that he hasn't gone mad. It is you...

The weight of uncertainty that he has been carrying around with him for so many nights suddenly evaporates, its haunting shadow covering him no more.

There is no relief though for him though. No matter what outcome would have proved to be true, he always knew that he would end up getting hurt.

Why are you here? Where were you during all those years? How could you abandon him and betray his feelings so easily?

In that moment, as he stands there motionlessly as only his gaze follows you, he feels like a small boy again. Helpless, confused and hurt beyond words. Emotions he has been hiding behind inner walls for years threaten to burst out of him and an urge to unleash all of those seething emotions overcomes him yet none of those thoughts or desires are ever put into action. As if someone put a spell on him, Mihawk finds himself unable to move, as rigid as a statue. Perhaps his body is just in shock and in hindsight it is good that he finds himself unable to act in that moment to gain some semblance of control again. Otherwise who knows what he would have done in that moment.

He watches as you stroll through the city, your laughter which used to bring him only comfort and warmth seemingly mocking him as he feels a new shadow swallowing him up and filling his heart with a bitter taste.

Betrayal. You betrayed him.

You willingly chose to break the promise you two made decades ago and discarded him as if he were an disposable object instead of the person who spent your entire youth with you.

Did you even once consider how he would feel? Do you have any idea what he turned into because of your decision?

You left him! Didn't even bother to contact him to let him know that you were still alive! Whilst he spent endless days and nights mourning after you, driving himself insane as he didn't know of your fate, you were on this island and enjoyed your life!

A life without him.

Did he mean that little to you for you to make the decision to never see him again so easily? Did all the years he was by your side mean nothing to you?

His heart dies as he can only stand there and follow you with his gaze. All heartbreak, all of the grief that have eaten him alive from the inside out for countless seasons drain in the new cold rage that suddenly floods his veins, his pupils narrowing as his gaze zooms in on your smiling face.

What use did it have to mourn someone who lives? What use did it have to feel heartbroken over someone who clearly doesn't care about the pain he went through?

Mihawk has already wasted too much time dwelling in his own self-pity and in that moment he despises you for the shell you have turned him into.

You made the decision to disappear without a word. Now it is time for you to pay the consequences of that decision. He isn't here to catch up with you for old times sake after all.

No. He is here to take you.

And just as you didn't care about his feelings during all those years, this time he won't care for yours either. He doesn't care to hear your reasons and he doesn't care about your apologies if you should dare to voice them to his face. It is already too late for any of that.

Years too late.

[utilitycaster]

Daggerheart Character Build thoughts!

I am actually out at work and haven't checked the version that's since come out, but I did participate in the character build beta, and the NDA is officially lifted, so here's my thoughts from that! It's definitely limited since I just made a L1 character and didn't go through gameplay, though I surmise about some aspects of gameplay.

Overall, it clearly seems to be made by people who love a lot of things about D&D 5e but wanted both more flexibility and more simplicity, which is difficult. I think they succeed.

To that end, it takes away some of the crunchier aspects (precise positioning, exact amounts of gold) and I think for some people that will be a problem, and that's valid, but ultimately this game wants to both allow for interesting mechanics in and out of combat while also not being terribly math/map/resource management heavy. It is a hard line to walk; most systems either go hard crunch or go entirely gooey.

The dice mechanic (2d12, Hope and Fear system) is fantastic; look it up but I think it handles mixed successes more gracefully and interestingly than a lot of games.

The playtest was not super clear on armor and evasion choices (or indeed what evasion means; it seems to be sort of initiative but sort of dex save, or maybe more like the Pathfinder/old school D&D varying ACs by scenario?). It was much, MUCH clearer than D&D on weapon choices (part of why I play casters? Weapon rules in D&D are annoying and poorly explained and many people rightfully ignore them) so I'm hoping this becomes clear when there's a full guide rather than just the character creation info.

The character creation questions by class were fantastic and in general, and this is a theme, this feels like it guides people towards collaboration. FWIW I feel like D&D has that information, but the way it's presented is very much as flavor text rather than a thing you should be doing. Daggerheart makes this a much more core part of creation. The Experience mechanic is particularly clear: you better be working with your GM and really thinking about background, rather than slapping it on as a mechanic.

The other side of character creation questions is that it really encourages engagement with the class, which is something I've talked about. I think either subversion for the sake of subversion, or picking a class for the mechanics and aesthetic but not the fundamental concept, will be much harder to justify in Daggerheart, and I think that's a good thing because when people do that, their characters tend to be weaker.

The downtime is designed for you to write hurt/comfort fanfic about and this is a compliment. There are a number of mechanics that reward RP, particularly one of the healing mechanics under the Splendor track. I feel like a weakness of D&D is that when you try to reward RP it's really nebulous because there's not actually a ton of space to put that - you can give inspiration, but, for example, the empathy domain Matt homebrewed actually feels kind of off because it's based on such fuzzy concepts amid mechanics that are usually more rigid. Daggerheart comes off as much cleaner yet still RP-focused, and I'm excited to see it in action.

A judgement of Candela and I suppose Daggerheart might be that it's designed for actual play. I've mentioned before that I know people who are super into the crunch and combat and numbers of TTRPGs and are less story-oriented, and again, that's valid, but actual play is just storytelling using a ttrpg and so yes, a game that encourages RP while also having mechanics to support that and influence it is an extremely good goal. I am not an actual player, but I do like D&D games with a good plot and not just Go Kill Monsters, and I want to play this. (I also have some real salty thoughts about how if you modify an existing game for AP purposes that's staggering genius apparently, but if you make your own game how dare you but that's another post).

And now, the classes/subclasses. I am going to sort of use D&D language to describe them because that's a point of reference most people reading this will understand, but they are not one-to-one. A couple notes: everyone can use weapons and armor. HP is not totally clear to me but it seems to be threshold based - everyone has the same HP to start but people have different thresholds and armor, so the tank classes have the same amount of HP but are much harder to actually do damage to.

All classes are built on a combination of a subclass and two domains. There are 9 classes and 9 domains. This technically means that if you wanted to fuck around and homebrew you could make up to 36 classes (27 additional) by just grabbing two domains that weren't otherwise combined, which is fun to consider for the potential. Anyway I cover the classes and briefly describe domains within them. You can take any domain card within your domain, regardless of subclass.

There are six stats. Presence, Instinct, Knowledge, and Strength map roughly to Charisma, Wisdom, Intelligence, and Strength. Dex is split into Agility and Finesse; Agility covers gross motor skills (jumping, most ranged weapons, "maneuvering") and Finesse finer ones (lockpicking and tinkering, though also it does cover hiding). The really big wins are first, no CON score, so you don't need to sink stat points into something that grants no skills but keeps you alive. The second one is that the "hybrid" classes spellcast from their physical stat. This is fucking fantastic. The thing about ranger or paladin or the spellcasting subclasses of rogue and fighter in D&D is that if you don't roll pretty well you're locked into the core stats and CON and nothing else. (This also doesn't have rolling for stats: you assign +2 to one stat, presumably your main, and then distribute two +1s, two 0s, and one -1.)

Your HP, Evasion, and Thresholds are set by class, and there's a core ability; the rest is all from the cards you take for subclass and domain.

Leveling up is very much based on taking more domain cards (abilities) but has a certain degree of flexibility. It's by chunks: in leveling up anywhere levels 2-4, you can, for example, increase your proficiency by +1 once, so if you wanted to do that at level 2 but your fellow player wanted to wait until level 4 and take something else at level 2 instead, they could. It allows for more min-maxing, but also everyone has the same level up rules and differs only in the abilities on the cards, which is very cool.

Bard: Grace (enchantment spells) and Codex (learned spellcaster stuff; the spells available are definitely arcane in vibes) based, Presence is your main stat. The two subclasses map roughly to lore-style stuff and eloquence. Core class ability is sort of like inspiration but not entirely. It's a bard; I like bards a lot, and this is very similar vibes-wise to your D&D bards. If you like D&D bards you will like this.

Druid: Sage (nature spells) and Arcana (raw magical power spellcaster stuff), Instinct is your spellcasting/main stat. The two subclasses are elemental but frankly cooler than circle of the moon, and a more healing/tranquility of nature focused one. I really think Marisha probably gave feedback on this one, because the elemental version is really strong. You do get beastform; it is quite similar to a D&D druid under a different system, as the bard, but the beastform options are, frankly, better and easier to understand.

Guardian: Valor (melee tank/damager) and Blade (damage). Strength based for the most part (Valor mechanics assume strength) though you could go for like, +2 Agility +1 Strength to start. This is barbarian but like. 20 times better. It is, fundamentally, a tank class, and it is very good at it, with one even more tank-focused subclass and one that is more about retaliatory damage. You do have a damage-halving ability once per day, but really guardian's questions are incredible. I think Travis and Ashley likely gave feedback. Also rage doesn't render you incapable of concentration as that doesn't seem to be a thing, so multiclassing seems way more possible (you are, I think, only allowed to do one multiclass, and not until you reach level 5 minimum, which I am in favor of). Yes, you can be a Bardian.

Ranger: This is what I built! It is based on Sage and Bone (movement around the field/dodging stuff) and it is Agility-based, including for spellcasting, which is a MASSIVE help (as is, again, the fact that CON isn't a thing.) The subclasses are basically being really good at navigation, or animal companion. Most importantly to me you can be a ranger with a longsword and you are not penalized; Bone works with either ranged weapons or melee.

Rogue: Midnight (stealth/disguise/assassination spells and skills) and Grace-based. Yes, rogue is by default a spellcaster, which does help a LOT with the vibes for me. One subclass is basically about having lots of connections (as a spy or criminal might) and the other is about magical slinking about. Hiding/sneak attack are also streamlined. I will admit I'm still more interested in…almost everything else, but I think it evened out a lot of rogue weaknesses.

Seraph: Splendor (healing/divine magic) and Valor. This is your Paladin equivalent. It is strength-based for casting, again making hybrid classes way less stressful. Questions for this area also incredible; you do have something not unlike a lay on hands pool as well. Your subclasses are being able to fly and do extra damage; or being able to make your melee weapon do ranged attacks and also some extra healing stuff, the latter of which is my favorite. Yasha vibes from this, honestly. Single downside is this is the only class where they recommend you dump Knowledge. I will not, and I never will. Now that I don't have to make sure CON is high? I am for REAL never giving myself less than a +1 Knowledge in this game.

Sorcerer: Arcana (raw nature of magic/elemental vibes) and Midnight based. Yes, sorcerers and rogues now share a vibe, for your convenient….less enthused feelings. Instinct-based, which intrigues me, and the core features are in fact really good. The two subclasses are either one that focuses on metamagic abilities, or one that is elemental based. I would play this for a long-running game, though it's not my favorite, and I can't say that for D&D sorcerer (except divine soul).

Warrior: Blade and Bone, and the recommended build is Agility but you could do a strength build. Fighter! One subclass is about doing damage and one is about the hope/fear mechanics core to the game that I have NOT talked much about. I will admit, the hybrid martials and Guardian are more interesting to me but you do have good battle knowledge.

Wizard: Codex and Splendor. Wizards can heal in this system; farewell, I will be doing nothing else (jk). Knowledge-based, and you can either go hardcore expertise in knowledge, or be a battle wizard.

Other scattered thoughts: healing is not as big a deal here; there is no pure cleric class! There is also no monk, warlock, or artificer. There is not a way to do monk as a weaponless class really though you might be able to flavor the glowing rings as a monk weapon and play a warrior. Wizard, meanwhile, with the right experiences and high finesse, would allow for some artificer flavor. Cleric and Warlock are the two tough ones and I will admit those are tricky; I feel like you'd have to multiclass (which you cannot do until level 5) between perhaps seraph and a caster class and you're still going to come off very paladin.

[tossawary]

I'm reviewing episode transcripts from "Merlin" to build up my worldbuilding document (character list, mostly) and, a little ways into S2, I'm kind of feeling like the show is actually quite mean to Arthur as a character sometimes? S1 E14: "To Kill the King" is one of those episodes where I forget how badly it pissed me off until I run into it again.

Like, don't get me wrong, Arthur can be a bully, entitled, hotheaded, and reckless, but he's also at this point risked his own life to save people multiple times. Both individuals whose lives were "worth less" than his own (getting the Mortaeus flower for a poisoned Merlin, smuggling Mordred out of the city, protecting Ealdor from bandits) and also Camelot as a whole (fighting the plague-causing monster in the sewers, fighting the mam-eating griffin, drinking poison to lift the unicorn curse).

Arthur is giving me vibes of being both bored and frustrated (and probably not able to name those feelings or exactly why he has them) because he wants so badly to do good things, but he's not really sure how to go about it because (no one ever tells him anything, he almost NEVER knows what's really going on to make informed choices, and) he's also stuck under the thumb of his tyrannical father, who spends most of their scenes together berating Arthur for being too merciful, for not being dutiful enough, and/or not finding sorcerers for execution fast enough. When Arthur tries to be fair-minded and compassionate, Uther often essentially tells him that he's going to be a weak king with that attitude.

Arthur's pathways to betterment are limited, his parent and role model and boss here is an AWFUL person, but he's trying!

So, it's quite frustrating to get to this one episode where characters like Gaius (extremely biased, admittedly, clearly not an objective individual) are saying things like: "Arthur's not ready. The responsibility would be too great. Brave though he may be, he lacks experience, he lacks judgement."

Like, I don't know, Arthur may be only 21 and kind of a dipshit, but I personally think he'd still do a better job than the guy who tried to kill a kid (Mordred) just for existing a few episodes ago? Maybe? Gwen's father, who wasn't even a sorcerer or knowingly working with one, is dead explicitly because of Uther's awful laws. Did everyone in this episode forget that Uther tried to BURN GWEN ALIVE AT THE STAKE not that long ago (Episode 3)?

ARTHUR: "[Morgana]'s right, Father. You hear the word magic, you no longer listen."

UTHER: "You saw it for yourself. She used enchantments."

ARTHUR: "Yes, maybe. But to save her dying father, that doesn't make [Gwen] guilty of creating a plague. One's the act of, of kindness, of love, the other of evil. I don't believe evil's in this girl's heart."

UTHER: "I have witnessed what witchcraft can do. I have suffered at its hand. I cannot take that chance. If there is the slightest doubt about this girl, she must die or the whole kingdom may perish."

ARTHUR: "I understand that."

UTHER: "One day you may become King. Then you will understand. Such decisions must be made. There are dark forces that threaten this kingdom."

ARTHUR: "I know. Witchcraft is an evil, father. So is injustice. Yes, I am yet to be King, and I don't know what kind of king I will be, but I do have a sense of the kind of Camelot I would wish to live in. It would be where the punishment fits the crime."

UTHER: "I fear you're right. She's played with fire, and sadly she must die by fire."

When the adult druid (Cerdan) accompanying Mordred is killed (Episode 8), Arthur objects afterwards! On his own! While Arthur is sometimes an active participant in Uther's tyranny and otherwise complicit, he's been told all of his life that magic is inherently evil and corrupting, he was raised by the very man spreading this hateful philosophy, he should probably hate magic more than anyone after Uther, and yet he still disagrees with Uther's methods and judgments. Even though Uther is apparently VERY willing to lock both his son (Episode 4) and his ward (Episode 8) in the dungeons for disagreeing with him and disobeying him!

ARTHUR: The Druid was only in Camelot to collect supplies. He meant no harm. Is it necessary to execute him?

UTHER: Absolutely necessary. Those who use magic cannot be tolerated.

ARTHUR: The Druids are a peaceful people.

UTHER: Given the chance, they would return magic to the kingdom. They preach peace, but conspire against me. We cannot appear weak.

ARTHUR: Showing mercy can be a sign of strength.

UTHER: Our enemies will not see it that way. We have a responsibility to protect this kingdom. Executing the Druid will send out a clear message. Find the boy. Search every inch of the city.

Obviously, running a kingdom is complicated! Uther apparently won Camelot by conquest and is in conflict with many of the neighboring kings, including Odin and Cenred, and likely has more of the respect of the local nobility than young Arthur does. Uther's death would create some instability! (Agravaine de Bois hasn't been created yet, but let's assume there are many other potential vultures.)

But the show generally isn't pushing that angle. This isn't really about smooth transitions of power. Personally, concerning Arthur's "lack of judgment", I do find his ready conviction that it is his duty to die for Camelot's honor if necessary (he says as much to Merlin explicitly before fighting Valiant in Episode 2, then again before fighting the Black Knight in Episode 9) more than a little concerning, but that doesn't seem to be angle pushed here either.

The show has characters (Merlin, Gwen, Gaius) suggesting that offing the King, who regularly kills innocent people whether they have magic or not, who has forbidden use of the tool that might have saved innocent people from Nimueh's plague or the wraith of Tristan de Bois, would be wrong! It would be murder and murder is bad! It would make (in the words of a grieving Gwen) her "just as bad" as him.

Even though Merlin has at this point already killed Aulfric and Sophia (Episode 7), as well as Mary Collins (Episode 1) because they were trying to kill Arthur. And arguably got an assist with Valiant (Episode 2). And will kill many more as the show goes on. This conversation with Kilgharrah in S1 E14 is in many ways so, so funny:

KILGHARRAH: Well, young warlock, what is it you come to ask of me?

MERLIN: I need your help.

KILGHARRAH: Of course you do, but this time, will you heed my words?

MERLIN: The sorcerer Tauren is plotting to kill the King. He's made an ally of Morgana. I don't know what to do!

KILGHARRAH: Do… nothing.

MERLIN: What do you mean? If I do nothing, Uther will die.

KILGHARRAH: Don't you want Uther dead? It is Uther that persecutes you and your kind, Merlin. It is Uther that murders the innocent…

MERLIN: But surely that doesn't make it right to kill him.

KILGHARRAH: Only if Uther dies can magic return to the land. Only if Uther dies will you be free, Merlin. Uther's reign is at an end. Let Arthur's reign begin. Fulfil your destiny!

[The dragon flies off.]

MERLIN: Wait! Where does it say my destiny includes murder?

KILGHARRAH: Free this land from tyranny, Merlin! Free us all!

I feel for Kilgharrah here. He was VERY straightforward. I don't know how he could have been clearer about this.

I won't say that Merlin's character writing doesn't make ANY sense here (I do think the character writing in this show is NOT amazingly consistent), because... he IS being influenced by Gaius, who is, unfortunately, a bootlicker and also probably extremely traumatized by all of the death he's seen (big contributor of the bootlicking) (also, apparently Gaius only becomes a "freeman" at the end of Episode 6, so there's that). And Merlin is also being heavily influenced by Arthur, who loves his father, despite everything. For Arthur's sake, if no one else's, Merlin will go out of his way to save Uther. Sure! That tracks!

Merlin spends a lot of time in this show protecting a terrible status quo under some assumption that Camelot will... somehow suddenly become better under Arthur? Instead of perhaps eventually just trusting Arthur and talking to him after their years of knowing each other? There are several, in-world reasons for this and I don't think they're all unrealistic! It's tense! It's thrilling sometimes!

(Though I am ultimately a little annoyed that Merlin's many secrets never really come out and get dealt with by the characters, because that would have been fun drama and some resolution to all the tension, even if the story did still end in death.)

There's some tasty tragedy in this silly show, in many ways. Merlin is confused and conflicted and scared and without clear guidance in many ways. Kilgharrah is mysterious and not at all reassuring. Gaius is complacent and (very reasonably) incredibly secretive. Merlin doesn't get to see many of the moments where Arthur speaks up for magical people and tries to talk Uther down. Morgana and Arthur are both stuck here in a "The hands that cradled you are covered in an unimaginable amount of blood." "But they cradled me, yes?" nightmare scenario. (There's also a sexist element where male characters like Gaius and Merlin won't let Morgana know about her own powers "for her own good" in a gaslight-y way that's fascinating to me in how it creates a villain.)

But, also, the compelling tragic elements here don't make certain episodes any less frustrating to watch in their execution. (I don't think villains being frustrating to watch or read necessarily makes them effective villains, especially when what I really find annoying here is the heroes' reactions to the villain. Uther has killed SO MANY PEOPLE! FOR NO REASON!) Especially when a lot of the overall results of this show often feel more accidental than purposeful. I do understand why the writers keep Uther around! He's a formidable antagonist to have looming all over the place and the actor is fun.

But OOF, I felt that "Do... Nothing".

Merlin! MERLIN! LISTEN TO THE SCARY DRAGON! MERLIN, REMEMBER THAT TIME UTHER TRIED TO BURN GWEN ALIVE??? JUST BECAUSE GWEN IS TOO NICE TO GO AFTER UTHER WITH A KNIFE AND TAKE REVENGE, IT DOESN'T ACTUALLY MEAN KILLING HIM MAKES YOU "JUST AS BAD"!!! MERLIN!!! YOU HAVE ALREADY MURDERED MULTIPLE PEOPLE WHO KILLED WAY LESS PEOPLE THAN UTHER!!!

In Episode 4, Morgana says to Uther: "You can't chain [Arthur] up every time he disagrees with you." This implies to me that Uther has had Arthur thrown in the dungeons before. In Episode 3, Arthur says to Morgana: "Father will slam us both in chains if he knew I'd endangered you," and maybe he wasn't at all joking with that? Arthur is rattling the bars of his cell here, apparently fairly ready to be aimed wherever Merlin points him, bucking against being aimed at innocents by his tyrant of a father.

But nooo, Gaius says Arthur is "not ready yet" because...??? He seems less hotheaded than Uther to me, honestly. Are his tax policies not up to par yet? You can hire a guy for that. Suggesting that Arthur would be in any way worse than His Majesty "Anyone Who Talks To A Sorcerer Gets Executed Even If They Didn't Know They Were A Sorcerer" feels quite mean to Arthur, really. I think he'd do alright, in comparison, Gaius who lies to the King every single day, but I suppose you sometimes want to be a loyal friend to good ol' King "Made Merlin Drink Poison That One Time And Wouldn't Let Anyone Go Get The Cure". Good for you. Bad for everyone else.

Like, I know, I know this show is not very deep. I like that all of the characters are flawed and fumble a lot! I even kind of enjoy that it ultimately ends in death with so many loose emotional threads. It is a weekly burst of fantasy nonsense that is not especially concerned with consistency in worldbuilding or characters from episode to episode. But the executive discrepancies here are, like the ones in "Star Wars", weirdly fascinating with all of the holes and wobbly bits it creates.

This show: "Yes, our hero has once again saved the tyrannical king who kills innocents! Preventing the oblivious prince from assuming the throne and trying to do better as he so clearly wants to do! Good work, Merlin, taking the high road (which involved murdering the rightfully angry people trying to kill the tyrannical king) again!"

Me, every time: "...I am genuinely not sure how the show wants us to interpret this. What did they think they were doing with this? Was this always meant to be a tragedy from the first season? Because personally, I'm getting some kind of tragedy from this."

[houseofashesif]

The mad desire for vengeance burned within you like an uncontrollable wildfire, threatening to consume all thoughts and reason with each passing day. It lashed wildly like fire accumulating within the belly of a dragon, waiting to be unleashed at those who wronged you, and your family.

But you were too weak. Too fragile, like a newborn chick. What could you possibly do in your miserable state?

Every night while the world slept, you would lie awake in your dirty cot, praying endlessly for someone to save you. Be it God or the Devil himself, you begged to be saved. To be given a second chance.

Then, your prayers were answered. Not by God but the Devil.

"I can grant you only one of your wishes, little one. So, tell me, what do you desire?"

There were a million things that you desired. A warm home. A loving family. However none of those could be compared to your life long desire.

"Vengeance."

"Are you sure that is what you desire?" You do not remember what kind of expression he had on, but the amusement was evident in his voice.

"I am." You answer firmly.

"Very well."

He held his hand out for you to grab, a final chance for you to turn back on your world. But a normal life was something you have given up on a long time ago.

You firmly grab his inviting hand, knowing fully well that there was no turning back now.

The Devil smiled wickedly.

genres ; dark, gothic fiction, romance, crime, thriller

setting ; fictional world of Celtica (loosely based on modern Britain from 1900's), Modern (at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution)

Set in the early 19th century, you play as the heir of the powerful aristocratic family of Morrigan. But your true identity is that of a fallen noble from a disgraced house. Once renowned for its art and craftsmanship, your family collapsed after falling into crippling debt following a failed business attempt and accusations of planning a coup against the royal family. At least that's what the public is aware of. However you know better than that. Your family were no traitors, they were victims of a malicious plot woven by none other than the Duke of Sinclair, once an old friend of your family. Following the false accusations your family collapsed in no time and your parents and siblings were executed publicly.

You who were the lone survivor of this massacre changed your identity for fear of being caught and killed as well, living as a coal miner in an old orphanage. You craved vengeance but what could you, a fallen noble from a disgraced house, possibly do against a Duke who is one of the pillars of the great empire and the closest associate of the Empress.

You prayed day and night to the heavenly being that watched your downfall, desperately begging to be given a second chance in life. But all seemed for naught as the days turned to weeks and weeks to years. Just when you had given up all hope for revenge, an opportunity landed before you, appearing in the form of your father and the current head of the Morrigan Duchy, Law Morrigan.

Between the two choices given to you, as to whether you'd seek justice or vengeance against your enemies, you chose vengeance.

For the past 12 years you have been trained to become the perfect killer by your father. Born with the extremely rare phenomenon known only as a 'Miracle' you have been blessed by the Murder Miracle.

Now, young heir, this is your story. Your history to be written. Will continue down your bloody warpath of vengeance and be remembered in history as the punisher of the wicked and upsurer of the monarchy, OR will you let the impartial hands of justice make their judgement to your wrong doers and be remembered as the saint of justice. The choice is yours.

House of Ashes is a dark, interactive work of fiction that takes place in the early 19th century, at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution. It follows the story of vengeance in the midst of political chaos, grisly murders and schemes behind the scenes, while you have to choose between morality and desire to achieve what you want and what you believe in.

It is rated 18+ for violence, explicit themes, possible sexual content, and ofcourse, lots of blood and gore.

Customize yout heir from their name, appearance, gender identity, pronouns anf many more. Choose what your heir thinks of their family, their position and their responsibilities.

Choose a weapon and master an ancient martial art of choice. Or don't and become a jack of all trades.

Choose what kind of heir you want them become and how far you're willing to go to protect your title. Will you go for a more diplomatic approach with a case of mutual relationship with your siblings or crush them with your overwhelming strength to show your authority.

Will you choose to give in to your murderous instincts or suppress them.

Get involved in a murder investigation following a serious of gruesome serial killings, and maybe learn that there was more than what meets the eye regarding the downfall of your house.

Indulge in some romance along the way with six different characters with varying backgrounds to choose from. Or just don't.

Choose a pet cat or dog to become your acquaintance. Perhaps if you're feeling a little exotic, a hawk will do?

More features to come

The Crown Prince - Maximilian Windsor Celtica [Male]

The oldest of the Sun Twins, Crown Prince Maximilian is a very reverred personality among the nobles. He is known for his shrewdness and extremely ambitious nature. A very charismatic person, he has a way with his words which often allows others to lower their guard around him. Aiming to become the Emperor of the Celtica Empire one day, having such ambitious goals mean Maximilian is willing to do anything to achieve them. That includes sending assassins after his twin, the Crown Princess. With an analytical mind that allows him to see those inferior than him as mere pawns, falling for him is a doomed endeavor.

He is the holder of the Domination Miracle.

The Crown Princess - Victoria Windsor Celtica [Female]

The youngest of the Sun Twins, Crown Princess Victoria is often compared to her golden brother and frequently referred to as the ugly duckling of the two. An aloof individual, Victoria is a person of very few words and prefers to end things up quickly with sharp jabs and assertive speeches. Although a cold person, she has a kind side to her too, which often sees her donating large portions of her personal wealth to orphanages and charities, making her widely beloved among the citizens of the empire. Due to the frequent assassination attempts on her life, Victoria has chosen to close her heart off towards everyone, preferring to bear all the burdens on her own.

She is the holder of the Conquest Miracle.

The Fated Enemy - Cedric/Cordelia Sinclair [Gender Selectable]

Your mortal enemy. The child of the person responsible for your family's death and your misery. There are many things that you wish to address them as but cannot find the words to. That's how much you despise them. Imagine the surprise when they offered their hand for friendship to you. Contrary to how you imagine them as, like a spoiled young master from a privileged family, they're relatively humble. And also a little stupid. But behind their sunshine happy-go-lucky attitude, something much darker is lurking.

They are the holder of the Shackle Miracle.

The Best Friend - Orion/Ophelia Lancaster [Gender Selectable]

The lone, stoic heir of the righteous Lancaster Duchy, and also your best friend ever since the day you stepped foot into your new home, they are one of the few people that you trust. Although they have some trouble communicating with people regarding their feelings, they're a gentle giant compared to their intimidating features. They're also very open and blunt with their words whenever they speak so people tend to think of them as rude, not you though, you like their honesty. The two of you have stuck through the thick and thin of each other's lives like gum and even promised to do so until the end of your lives. But good things never truly last do they? A small misunderstanding which eventually gew to become a feud between the two oldest families of the empire, you wonder, what went wrong?

They're the holder of the Belief Miracle.

The Dream Demon - [???]

All dreams have a price to be paid. Are you willing to pay yours?

The Ash Demon - [???]

An old fossil, rising from the burnt ashes of your past. Do you remember me? Don't worry if you don't. I do.

DEMO || THE RO'S || THE FOUR FAMILIES || THE MIRACLE

More details on the RO's, their families and the Miracles will be added soon. Until then, i hope you like my poor attempt for an IF 🥲

[sourtomatola]

Vampire Equinox drabble for the Eclipse SIMP's

Based off this pic I drew

Your back hit the silk red sheets, almost knocking the wind out of you. You would have tired to get up if you weren’t currently gawking at the towering behemoth that is an Animatronic Vampire staring down at you. He effortlessly held one of your hands against the sheet, your entire hand fitting in his upper palm, large fingers stretching like a spider sitting comfortably.

"Well well, breakfast in bed? How delightful~" He grinned down at you. His glowing yellow eyes washed over you as his free hand reached for the clasp on his cloak. His starry cape slipped into his free hand as he set it elegantly aside and placed a knee on the bed.

You were frozen in fear, but upon feeling the bed being weighed down near your legs, you began to squirm and look away for an escape. You grabbed his wrist and pulled at it, determined to get away from this creature with glistening yellow fangs. You scooted your legs away from him, thinking you could possibly twist yourself away. Your desperation growing as you felt more and more trapped under this creature.

“Hmm?” He watched you for a second in amusement, simply keeping your hand held in place. It was only when you tried to roll into a sitting up position that he suddenly leaned in, his face suddenly so close to yours. The glow of his yellow eyes made you feel like a deer in the headlights. You slowly backed away, but your heart jumped into your throat at the realization that he followed you perfectly, making it near impossibly to make space between you two.

Pressing into the sheets now, you could only quiver in place under the Vampire Lord’s sights.

 “P…please…” The single word escaped your breathless lips.

“No need to be shy Little Robin, I am not making any judgements on you.” He assured, as if that was really on your mind right now!

He started to lean closer, but you pressed into the mattress harder, hoping it would swallow you up and save you. His knee nudged between yours, making you feel vulnerable for but a moment before you realized you could use it. You put your knee against his thigh and used it to scoot yourself farther away from his face. You slid easily on the silk sheets, but not far.

“Your amount of fighting is admirable, but unneeded. The game is over.” He said with frustrating patience. Frustrating to you, since now you’re starting to reach the point where you wished he would just get it over with and stop playing with you! He was always like this though, seemed to love to play with his food.

His knees now fully supported himself on the bed, and his free hand placed next to your head. You saw him come closer and tried to press away again, but his free hand slid under your neck and pulled your head upwards to him. Your eyes forced to look into his, but there was no hypnotism, no mercy. He wanted you conscious as he took what he wanted.

His eyes then glanced down to your neck before leaning down. You struggled in one last ditch effort to get away, to convince him not to hurt you again. His larger body kept you from being able to kick or fight much farther than weak struggles and whimpering.

You felt his fangs ghost over your skin, as if trying to find the most ample spot to bite. He was teasing you. Still, after all of it, he was teasing you again!

Finally, his four fangs plunged into your flesh, making you cry out and tense up under the pain. You knew your fighting was just making your blood rush faster, and make it easier for him to drink, but there was not much more you could do under this animatronic horror. You were powerless against this supernatural machine.

You felt your head starting to get light, still cradled in his metal fingers. “Too…too much!!” You gasped, realizing your vision was trying to grow dark from blood loss.

He shushed you softly and left a gentle kiss to your neck before going back to your seeping wound. Your free hand reached around him, grasping desperately at his back in an attempt to hit or pull him off of you. He continued to drain you, unbothered.

As your vison started to close in faster, you could hear his softly chuckle. “Tenacious little darling…I shall savor you.”

Vampire Equinox Eclipse by @miwachan2

[springofdrownedmillenial]

***This post contains heavy spoilers for the Ryugenzawa Arc and the Nodoka storyline through Chapter 384. English scans read left-to-right and Japanese scans right-to-left. Sorry!***

In chapter 275 of Ranma 1/2, Ranma tells a rival for Akane's affections to "take care of her" before leaping to almost certain death. Pretty standard stuff, a staple scene of action movies everywhere, right before the hero sacrifices himself to save the girl he loves. Except that the macho bravado of the moment is subverted by the fact that Rumiko Takahashi renders Ranma's physical form, in this scene, as a beautiful, sorrowing girl.

Sapphic overtones aside, this moment has stayed with me because it holds the series' ideas about gender conformity, and specifically masculinity, up for inspection. Throughout the series, Ranma is preoccupied with being a "real man" and is famously out of touch with his emotions. Most of the time this character trait is played for laughs, but the series does hold a fair number of moments when Ranma expresses genuine vulnerability, and oftentimes Takahashi draws Ranma going through these scenarios in his girl form.

Before I go further, it is worth mentioning that I am by no means claiming Ranma is in his girl form any time he displays emotion or moments of vulnerability, or that vulnerability is the only kind of emotion girl-Ranma displays. Rather, I am saying that Takahashi, as a storyteller, often makes use of the gender swap device to heighten the emotional impact of a scene and that, moreover, the emotions that Ranma bodily expresses as a boy often differ in their association with gendered attributes than the ones he expresses as a girl. As a boy, Ranma expresses anger, belligerence, confusion, comically rendered fear - all "active," masculine-coded feelings. On the other hand, during moments of sadness, uncertainty, acquiescence, or some sense of loss, when they are not played for laughs or as a setup to a gag, he is often drawn as a girl. Even though Ranma is constantly trying to return to being a "real" man, Takahashi repeatedly undercuts the idea that this is a good and worthwhile thing to aspire to.

I won't get into what makes a "real man" here, but it's pretty easy to pick up on; as it turns out, the rules of heteronormative Japanese masculinity are a lot like the American ones: boys don't show weakness, boys don't back down or admit when they're wrong, boys don't show sadness or fear, and above all they don't eat girly stuff like yogurt parfaits.

Takahashi gets around the rules of masculinity by having Ranma embody vulnerability in a female body. This is both a loophole and a subversion. As a girl, Ranma is now "allowed" to show certain emotions, just like he is "allowed" to eat parfaits without inviting social judgement when in his female body. But since his gender identity remains male, he is still a boy eating the parfait, having these emotions. What makes his female-bodied vulnerability interesting is how it later affects his ability or willingness to express "un-manly" emotions while in his male body.

So, to return to Chapter 275: The thing is, Takahashi could have easily drawn Ranma as a boy in this panel. It would have been easy to insert a shot of him turning back into a boy via a Magically Appearing Kettle. As I stated earlier, this scene could have played like a macho action movie, with one guy "handing over" his girlfriend to another guy before sacrificing himself. And if Ranma were in his boy form when saying this line, it would definitely strengthen that read. You can easily imagine him delivering the line with a kind of macho stoicism and fortitude. But he doesn't. He delivers the line in his girl form, and what’s more Takahashi ramps up the ante here and draws him as downright beautiful. His features are exaggerated to emphasize femininity, with a small, rounded face shape and a delicately pointed chin. Ranma's eyes are huge, and light reflections take up most of the pupils, giving them a luminous appearance. This panel directly follows two shots of Akane and Ranma gazing at each other without speaking, and because the line is delivered so quietly, paired with Ranma's hyper-feminine appearance and expression, it locks the reader into the emotional intensity of the moment. In this moment, we're not thinking about Orochi. We're looking at Ranma mourning the loss of his relationship with Akane.

Remember that Ranma is under the understandable, if mistaken, impression that Akane has effectively tossed him over and chosen Shinnosuke as her new beau. This scene is not subtle about reinforcing the misunderstanding. Shinnosuke kept pace with Ranma in rescuing Akane from Orochi, he's sitting right next to her as she wakes up. In this panel Ranma is accepting and respecting what he thinks is Akane's decision to be with someone else, and this setup makes Ranma and Akane's reunification in the next chapter all the more impactful and romantic.

 Without this panel, would we have gotten that final scene – surely one of the loveliest in the whole series – of Ranma mentally rehearsing all the things he wants to say to Akane and reaching for her hand? I would argue no. While Ranma was plenty upset after Akane first slapped him and shedding his feelings all over the place, in his boy form he expressed himself angrily, petulantly, and childishly - and that was when he wasn't repressing his emotions altogether. That's not the behavior of someone who possesses great emotional maturity. It is only after this scene that he is able, as a boy, to speak sincerely. And I would argue that it's largely because of his vulnerability in this scene that he’s eventually able to at least try to connect emotionally with Akane without hiding behind a lot of bluster and insults.

The tug of war between machismo and vulnerability comes to the fore even more strongly in the long Nodoka subarc that runs through the second half of the series. In a nutshell, Ranma's long-lost mother reappears in his life and is eager to reunite with Ranma, but with a catch: if Ranma hasn't grown up to be a "completely manly," then both Ranma and Genma will be held to a promise to commit ritual suicide. By conventional definitions, Ranma, obviously, is not 100% male and, faced with the prospect of literal death, meets with his mother as Akane's made-up cousin "Ranko," all the while dreaming of the day he can reunite with Nodoka as his real self.

The chapters involving Nodoka are gag-based and comical, and largely turn on ever more preposterous scenarios in which Ranma must constantly switch between his male and female bodies. One of the more serious arcs in this subplot involves Kumon Ryuu, a boy who impersonates Ranma and moves into Nodoka's house after convincing her he is her son. Ranma, of course, fights Ryuu in order to reclaim his name and identity. This arc is poignant and, unlike most other Nodoka arcs, played mostly as a dramatic storyline, because Takahashi makes no bones about how much Ranma loves his mother. This is the one relationship that Ranma wants and pursues without any kind of bluster or contrariness. He doesn't pretend that he doesn't want to see Nodoka. He doesn't rebuff her with rudeness or insensitive remarks. Ranma makes it clear that his mother is important to him and that he will go to extraordinary lengths to be in her life and have a connection with her.

Although Ranma ultimately defeats Ryuu in combat, there are two panels show how much of a pyrrhic victory this is. After the battle, Ranma get punted into a water trough (as one does) and, in his girl form, hides behind a pile of rubble while Nodoka confronts Ryuu.  We see clearly how dejected Ranma is in this scene. Even though he is drawn in the foreground, Takahashi makes him look small next to the mound of dirt, and the way he is positioned, hunching down, hugging his knees, makes him look even tinier. He just looks really lonely and really sad, listening to his mother speak so gently to a boy who is not himself.

In the second panel, Ranma, still sitting in the same position, now looks even tinier, as the panel is drawn from an aerial perspective with Ryuu in the foreground and Ranma in the middle ground. Ryuu advises him to tell Nodoka the truth before departing for good. This is such a heartbreaking conclusion to this arc: Despite the physical and inner ordeals he has endured for his mother's sake, in the end he is reduced to hiding himself away, unable to either reveal himself or speak the truth. Emotionally, this is one of Ranma's lowest points, and once again, because the rules of masculinity preclude Ranma from expressing sincere dejection in a male body, Takahashi makes use of his female body and emphasizes his smallness to visually convey his emotional state.

Unlike in the Ryugenzawa arc, Ranma's display of vulnerability in his girl form doesn't lead to an emotional breakthrough in his boy form, as he remains a girl for the rest of the arc, which concludes on the next page. But it is striking that Ryuu, an antagonist and total outsider to Ranma's long-running drama, should be so insightful into the whole situation. He doesn't tell Ranma to 'man up' or to find a cure. He sees what is outwardly a forlorn girl and says, simply, 'tell the truth.' Whatever beliefs Ranma has about the "right" way to present himself to his mother doesn't matter. The truth is what matters. For his part, Ranma absorbs Ryuu's advice without a word, and it is perhaps telling that although it will take another 85(!!) chapters before the Nodoka subplot is finally resolved, Nodoka only appears in three more storylines in between. This moment is really the beginning of the end for this whole rigamarole.

This scene also shows how exhausting it is to keep up the ruse. It is stressful to have to pretend to be someone else in order to keep a relationship with a loved one. It must also be so emotionally taxing to be thwarted every time you work up the nerve to tell the truth, just as it must be to have terror of the consequences of outing yourself almost involuntarily override your desire to connect.

And indeed, it all comes to a head in the subplot's concluding arc. Ranma, in his girl form, finds himself continuously confronting Genma, who as usual wants to prevent him from revealing the truth to Nodoka, and running away from Nodoka herself. Finally, Genma knocks him out, and when he regains consciousness he hazily sees Nodoka bending over him, holding a water kettle. Instinctively, Ranma splits the kettle open with a leg slash, only to discover it is empty. Ranma and Nodoka face each other for a moment before Ranma runs off.

The only way I can describe Ranma's expression in this panel is "devastated." The position of his eyebrows really makes this a unique expression. Whatever boy Ranma's mental state, be it confusion, smugness, or shock, his brows are usually furrowed downwards, suggesting dominance, control, and assertiveness. Here, however, they're arched much less sharply, opening up his whole face.

As he runs away, Ranma expresses fear that his mother has discovered the secret to his transformation. That's certainly a reason to be devastated. However, I also read this moment as being the horrible, worst-case culmination of all the stress Ranma has been under so far. He has become so panicked and worn down that he is lashing out, however inadvertently, at the one person he is desperate to please, and once again Takahashi uses his female form to visually communicate that Ranma is at his lowest emotional point.

But all is not lost! Somewhat beautifully, Takahashi shows that girl Ranma is also a conduit of positive vulnerability. In the next chapter, Ranma (still in his girl form) wakes up from a nightmare and immediately has to evade an attack from Genma. Genma reminds him that if he tells Nodoka the truth, both of them will have to commit seppuku. It's the same old go-around; we have seen this exchange before, and we know what's coming next: Ranma's going to declare that he's going to meet his mom anyway, and Nodoka will show up, and Ranma will reflexively chicken out and turn into his girl form.

This time, however, Ranma does something unexpected. He says, with a smile on his face, "Dad...I wanna stop lying already." He looks completely at peace, and it's clear that following the harrowing confrontation with his mother, Ranma's outlook has irrevocably shifted. His desire to reunite with Nodoka is finally more powerful than his fear of death, and he will accept whatever consequences may come, so long as he can meet with his mother honestly.

In contrast to how he is drawn in the Ryugenzawa arc, Ranma's face here is almost a blend of masculine and feminine features. His jawline is stronger and his eyes sit higher on the face, giving him a less exaggerated, delicate look. If his boy and girl forms were combined into one body, this is how he might appear, and his harmonized features reflect the resolution of his inner turmoil.

Once again, in a world where kettles of hot water can and do appear out of thin air, Takahashi could easily have had Ranma deliver this line in his male form. I think that she doesn't because it is important to show Ranma breaking the cycle of deception and evasion that Genma has trapped him in up until now. He's not responding with aggression this time, but rather with peace and acceptance and a new-found moral conviction. He dials down the energy; he's not doing this anymore. This is, as much as anything, an assertion of independence from his father's influence: Ranma has found his own way forward and is no longer going to let the terms of his relationship with Nodoka be dictated by fear and cowardice.

The payoff comes in the arc's climactic scene when Ranma, now in his male body, rescues Nodoka after she falls off a cliff. Mother and son are finally reunited face-to-face and, in a really touching detail, Ranma's long-awaited reunion plays out totally differently than how he has fantasized. Instead of being a cool and composed tower of manly virility, welcoming his mother into his manly arms, Ranma starts to cry and clings to Nodoka while burying his head in her shoulder. It is a pure, cathartic, completely unmanly display of emotion, and this time Ranma does it all while in a male body.

Amazingly, Ranma goes even further in trying to express himself. We see his inner monologue as he urges himself to tell Nodoka that he was Ranko, and even starts to say so out loud before he is stopped by - of course - Genma. This is a critical character development moment because, having just performed a heroic rescue, he quite honestly doesn't have to tell the truth. He could have hustled Nodoka back up to safety and just tried extra hard to remain male for the rest of the day. But he commits to his own words: He wants to stop lying. He wants to present his whole self to Nodoka, and that includes the non-masculine parts of his identity.

In the series, so much of the characters' time is preoccupied with policing gender conformity, which is not unsurprising for a gender-bender series. Ranma is inundated with comments about how a man should behave and he shouldn't behave, how he should think and how he shouldn't think, which emotions are appropriate and which ones are not. Ranma puts himself into a bind because for the most part he subscribes to this model of masculinity, and indeed until relatively recently he was nearly the perfect embodiment of it. But being "100% manly" just sends Ranma into a vicious cycle of misunderstandings and arguments and isolates him from the people he loves. The hard lesson he learns is that when he actually taps into "weaker," "unmanly" feelings, he's able to break out of this unproductive cycle and move forward to achieve his goals.

Although Ranma’s quest is to regain his manhood, we are not meant to cheer on Ranma's displays of machismo. The takeaway from Ranma's moments of vulnerability is not that it's ok to show emotions so long as you appear to be a girl. It is that heteronormative masculinity is so restrictive and so repressive that it cuts off outlets of healthy, human emotional expression. It is both futile and harmful to keep chasing after a type of masculinity that isn't really realistic to embody and still retain a sense of an emotionally whole self. Ranma isn't just a tough guy. He has deep reserves of sensitivity. He is sad sometimes. He feels heartbreak deeply. He is a boy who just wants his mother.

[902186]

thinking about kurapika and chrollo and parallels and this circle of horrors where they are the victims AND the tools of their fates.

they both think they are neither or more like they don't care about it at all. they don't see themselves as victims, and they see absolutely no other way to live other than this role they took upon themselves. kurapika had such a strong sense of identity and what he wanted to do with his life and understands himself perfectly at all times. he was a part of his clan, but he was more an individual than anything else. kuroro, on the other hand, never knowing, never thinking what his motives are, deliberately not understanding himself and desperately holding on to the spider. he can't be an individual but with others, he can be the spider.

and for both of them, it all started on vengeance. kurapika abandoned himself in order to become a tool, a weapon, to avenge his clan, and to collect scarlet eyes. he stopped being himself and became his people. kuroro didn't know his family, didn't know where he actually came from, didn't know who he was or what he was supposed to be. so growing up in meteor city, he held on to his people strongly. and in order to avenge and protect his people, he would become a tool, a weapon, he would give himself to them. he started being himself as he became his people.

kuroro could be something for his people. and kurapika could be nothing for his people.

kurapika took on the role of judgement for vengeance. kuroro took on the role of villain for vengeance. kurapika acted his part by diminishing everything he was, and kuroro acted his part by filling up his identity with it.

but one thing stays clear and fixed with them throughout it all. they would do anything for their people. for whomever they consider their people. "he'll put his friends before his mission." a weakness kuroro sees in kurapika so quickly and so easily. but the same thing he considers a strength in himself. "i am not your top priority. it is the spider that must be kept alive." as long as his people are alive, his identity will live on. and as long as kurapika is alive, his people’s identity will live on.

"now you will get to experience the pain of losing your home." kuroro (and the spiders) killing the kurta clan set this parallel in motion for himself as the circle began for kurapika. and (speculatively) kurta clan hurting his people was what set the circle in motion for kuroro, too. now thinking about where they are in the story and how their end could be, it is very clear that they are finally ending up in a place where they mirror each other (as they have from the beginning) and they can recognise it in each other and themselves. kurapika ending up empty after his mission and kuroro ending up empty after losing spiders. both of them purposeless and with no self left outside of it. in a way, this is how the circle ends. "i can hear that he accepted death." they walk with death every day with no fear and full acceptance and after losing the only thing they live for, not even something they hold on to because they don't see a point in being alive outside of the fact that they must keep going for their people, for their purpose, and if not then there's no reason to exist, they are meaningless.

kuroro's vengeance left kurapika all alone, with everyone he knew dead, and feeling hollow at the end. by fate, he ended up all alone, with everyone he knew dead and feeling hollow at the end.

and at that point, they will have to start a new page and build a new self for themselves.