#gotta love the Hounds

[armatization-a]

❛   of course you have. you feel guilt. you want redemption.  ❜ - from Marni to Mauvier! (recruitment au maybe?)

[ there's probably a meme ; accepting regardless ]

"And you do not?" There was only surprise in his voice. Out of his fellow Hounds, Mauvier would have assumed Marni would feel guilt. They committed atrocities in the name of the Fell Dragon - in Veyle's name.

And perhaps he still felt guilt because he knew he would do it all again. Not for Sombron, but for Veyle. He would tear the sky down to keep her safe. What did that make Mauvier? He was on the side of 'good' now, but that did not make him good. That made him a man of loose morals. He didn't like doing what he had done. He wouldn't enjoy doing it again. And yet, for her? Anything.

He shook his head. "No. I do not believe I am seeking redemption." That would mean being forgiven, and that was impossible. A man like him should never be forgiven. Marni was just a girl though, too young to know better. She was groomed into this. Despite her crimes, she could seek redemption, should she choose it.

[avephelis]

half the riptide experience is just listening to grizzly and bizly beating chip with a hammer until he becomes a fine mashed potato paste and you know what good for them

[marscellaneous]

drawing people sitting at a table in perspective is hell i think the medieval times artists were onto something by just ignoring it

[honourablejester]

Heart: The City Beneath – Major Abilities

It’s much harder to talk about a favourite major ability for each class in Heart, because the major abilities are more … they’re bigger, they’re what you want your playstyle to be. They’re almost like a subclass? Each class has about five or six options, and you start with one, and getting more requires some big story beats, so they’re fairly defining for you. So when I’m talking about favourites here, I’m talking about how I personally would want to focus a character of that class.

Each major ability also lets you pick a couple of extra minor ones that buff it once you have it, so you can improve your major abilities with minor ones once you get it going.

Cleaver:

BLOODBOUND BEAST. You are accompanied by a ragged cryptid that follows your commands – an ancient stone-browed stag, a razortoothed heartsblood hound or something stranger. You feed it your blood, and it fights for you. You gain the Bloodbound tag on all weapons as you and your companion work in concert.

The Cleaver has five major abilities to choose from, a support option that gives the party skills, a combat option that gives you a great big weapon, a hungry option that leans on the classes core ability to gain skills/domains by eating things, and a transformation option that lets you pay in stress to do more damage. And then there’s this option, which gives you a ragged companion, a strange, rough animal to follow you. If you want a pet, this is the ability for you, and it’s a Heart pet, so it’s weird and offputting and wonderful. One of the minor abilities you can get for this is FAITHFUL UNTIL THE END, which does exactly what it sounds like it does and allows your faithful pet to die in your stead, at which point you’re required to pick a different major ability and you can never take this one again. Which. If you want to smash your character’s heart to pieces? Could be a good narrative shout.

Deadwalker:

ECHOES. You can glimpse the remnants of what has come before. Roll Discern + Domain to witness ghostly recreations of the past in your current location. This will generally show the most interesting or dramatic thing that occurred within recent memory.

Deadwalkers again get five options to choose from, one that lets you hurl yourself into the shadow world faster, one that lets you push through the shadow world to the afterlives beyond, one that turns your death into a poltergeist that helps you out, and one that lets you sacrifice your protection to hit enemies harder. And then there’s this one, which gives you psychometry. And we all know from other games that I just really like psychometry? I like knowing things, I like sensing things, I like weird tools that let me see things I shouldn’t. Although, to be fair, the heaven-exploring option is also extremely tempting.

Deep Apiarist:

UNCHAOS. The Heart is a chaotic place, and you seek to undo that with ancient magic. Roll Mend+Occult to cast this spell. On a success, for the remainder of the situation, you or one nearby ally treats Risky actions as Standard actions (keep the highest rolled dice) as probability coalesces around you and crystallizes at your feet.

Deep Apiarists are about resetting reality. Their five options are one that makes their body inimical to the Heart, doing extra damage to Heart creatures, one that turns their body into a mind healing item for your party, one that takes any mind stress you have and inflicts it on your opponents via your core bee swarm, and one that gives you bonus dice if you roll 6s. And then there’s this. Which is you casting a spell to just make life a fuck tonne easier for you or a party member. You can also buff it to make it a small AOE, though people have to stay right beside you for it to work. But it’s … The reality-bending bees are out here doing the work with this one.

Heretic:

OATH OF SAGACITY. You have learned one of the secret names of Three-Fold Damnou, and when you speak it aloud your enemies are struck senseless by its power. The name of the Goddess functions as the following weapon: (Kill D6, Spread, Debilitating, Maddening, One-Shot).

The Heretics get five major abilities, linking to five of the six Damnic virtues of their faith, which I enjoy. The virtue they’re missing is Grace, and it’s an in-universe doctrinal question as to why that is. Your options are one that gives you and sometimes someone near you physical protection, one that turns you into a divine terminator that takes mind damage if they haven’t killed a worthy foe by the end of the session, one that lets you do more damage/get further if you take and succeed on riskier actions, and one that lets you mystically sense creatures in your vicinity. And you’d think, given the Deadwalker above, that I’d pick that last one. But I just enjoy the ‘knowledge man was not meant to know’ that’s inherent in knowing one of the secret names of a god and speaking it as a weapon.

Hound:

STARE DOWN. You have a reputation as a terrifying enforcer; just looking at some folk is enough to get them to throw down their weapons. Your gaze functions as a weapon (Kill D6, ranged). It only works when your target can see you and if they have the capacity to be scared of you – so criminals are fair game, but heartsblood predators aren’t. You can use this “weapon” in a haven or other landmark without causing a huge ruckus. Your gaze won’t kill people – it’s disheartening, and if you reduce an opponent’s resistance to 0 with it they surrender, try to bargain their way out or trip and incapacitate themselves whilst fleeing.

Hounds are so practical. I actually really, really like them? And they have a bit of a wild west vigilante vibe as well. Of their five options, one lets them mark people as criminals which gives them advantages against them, one kind of possesses them with the spirit of trench warfare which gives them better unarmed and bonuses to close quarters, one gives them a Pumpkin Scissors-style berserker state where the more damaged they are the more damage they’re doing back, one gives them the ability to prep for a situation granting themselves and the party a choice of several benefits (and can be buffed), which was extremely tempting. But then there was this. Which is the ability to Clint Eastwood stare somebody into submission. Your stare does actual damage to people. And yes, you can buff it with a minor ability so that it works just fine on heartsblood predators. And, like. I mean you’ve got to pick that, right?

Incarnadine:

KARMIC LEDGER. Once you know what’s keeping someone awake at night, it’s much easier to take advantage of them. Roll Discern+Haven to cast this spell on a target you can see and hear. On a success, you determine their deepest karmic debt: the greatest thing that they’ve taken from someone else (money, valuables, freedom, a son, etc). When you act on this information, roll with mastery.

Incarnadines are about debts and deals and backstabbing, and their abilities reflect that. Sometimes quite literally. They get six potential options. One that lets you literally backstab people for bonuses, one support option that lets you pray to the god of debt to help someone else out, one that helps with NPC interactions that compels them to want something, one that lets you add a haven to your god’s network and get bonuses for it, one tempting one that lets you channel an incarnation of your god to do continuous minor damage to any enemy that can see you, and this one. Which is … I feel like if you’re going to worship a god of debt, it should let you see the biggest debt someone owes? And not in the sense of something they borrowed, but in the sense of something they’ve stolen. Their biggest karmic debt. If you worship a god of ledgers, you should be able to read the books.

Junk Mage:

KISS OF THE DROWNED QUEEN. You have glimpsed the sunken Court of the Drowned Queen, where she slumbers and awaits the resurgence of her line. With a touch, you can conjure salt water in the lungs of those who oppose you. This spell functions as the following weapon: (Kill D6, Piercing.) If the target is at least shin-deep in water, it inflicts D8 damage.

Right. So. The Junk Mage’s major abilities are spells they’ve gotten that call on major powers. There’s four big powers that they draw on: The Red King, The Sky Court, The Drowned Queen, and the Stone Chorus. They have six options, two each for the Red King and the Sky Court, one each for the other two. The Sky Court lets you either induce an orgy and/or the purge, or it gives you hyper adhd for a while. The Red King lets you either smell money and desire, or set things (and people) on fire. The Stone Chorus gives you and your party access to a temple mid-travel to be safe in, which is tempting. But I just like the Drowned Queen. Of the two damage spells, I want the one that drowns people on land. You know?

Vermissian Knight:

AETHERIC FIELD. Your armour buzzes with static that makes your hair stand on end; this discharge can keep you safe from the body-warping effects of the Vermissian. Once per session, activate this power. You gain +3 Echo protection until the end of the current situation.

The Vermissian Knights are very tanky, and their options are quite similar to the Cleaver’s, now that I look at them. Again, five options. One that gives them a great big monster-killing weapon (and a buff that lets them summon the monster in question), one that lets them push their armour to the limits, paying in stress to do more, one that lets them protect their allies, one that lets them pay in stress to do more exploring, and this one. I don’t know if its just the techological vibe, but I enjoy using your armour to create a protective electrical field that wards off weird damage. You can also buff it to create an aoe, and make it rechargeable. I like wards, as a concept. I enjoy this.

Witch:

LAIR. You adopt or create a predatory building and claim it as your own; it still eats people, but it doesn’t eat you. The building in question is no larger than a small shop or study. Inside, the shadows crawl and scurry, the walls creak and whisper and a maddening heart‐beat thuds at the back of your consciousness – perfect for you, but unsettling for anyone else. Any non-witch who enters your lair must roll Resist+Occult and mark D6 stress to Echo on a failure or D4 stress to Echo on a partial success. When you are in a landmark, roll Mend+Occult to summon your lair. On a success, it’s always been here, as far as anyone knows. Your lair acts as a bond (p. 98) – if it suffers fallout, it’s either eaten someone who’ll be missed or been damaged by suspicious locals.

… Witches are weird magic werewolf people, which is a great standing start for fun abilities. They have six options, and they’re all pretty much delightfully weird. One that lets them make the area around them more occult, automatically letting them aid a domain dice to almost everything, one that lets them see omens of what’s to come in a mirror (which lets them warp reality more than see the future), one that lets them attack people using blood as a vector, one that gives them a weird pet that they can channel damage into rather than taking it themselves, one that improves their werewolf form, and then this one. Which just … gives them a cool sentient hungry shop that follows them around and can act as their base in locations? I just. I feel like if you have the option, you should always choose to have your own predatory tea shop following you around?

End Thoughts:

I love that all these classes are so weird and so interesting. And there’s a good selection of play styles that you can work with even within your class.

[eemoo1o-animoo]

So in BoA Lizzie charges towards Grelle with her sabres and Grelle’s eyes go wide. I can’t remember the full scene but I remember this. This is what got me thinking about them BFFs. Please. We need them interacting.

But it’s not only that, it’s the fact that in the Red Butler Arc Lizzie dressed all the servants, including (Butler-) Grelle up in poofy, frilly dresses, and while Lizzie may not remember (who Grelle is), Grelle does. She should, at least.

And Grelle, this murderous, angry woman (especially at the time of the Red Butler Arc, prior to her rehabilitation/punishment we see her depart from in the Circus Arc, and while externally it seems not to have worked, I think internally it did, to an extent. She’s had time to heal) had let Lizzie do this (so had Sebastian, a literal demon, but that’s another post for another day).

She’d let Lizzie put this dress that she obviously didn’t like (hence the dramatic monologue about it, as far as I recall) on her. Grelle is, to an extent, good with kids. (You could argue that this was her acting but- but… shut up.)

Let Grelle and Lizzie interact more! Let them be BFFs! Please. Let. Them. Be. Friends.

Please.

[softersinned-arc]

the really fun thing abt astoria in a lot of verses is that she both is & isn't in so many situations and it's really all dependent upon how she presents herself / how she's seen. she's is & isn't a bastard, illegitimate by fereldan standards but the avvar don't give two shits, since inheritance of wealth or titles is matrilineal and it doesn't matter. she is & isn't avvar, come of age but not a member of any hold. she is & isn't a mage, having refused to be bonded to a spirit in her hold but still being mage enough to be afraid of templar interference. she's not astoria o grimhold anymore but she is astoria grim. she's not a donnelly but she is bann brennan's favorite daughter. she's not a cousland but she is ellis cousland's wife. she's not a warden but she is at amaranthine and she does defend the keep alongside the wardens left behind. she's a woman who loves control and certainty and she exists almost constantly in limbo and in a weird state of what ifs and maybe sos and if you look at it that ways. the only thing that no one could ever argue is that she's fereldan to her core.

[brainmoss]

I was tagged by @sometimes-i-talk-a-lot to share five songs I actually listen to publicly, then tag ten people 💖

I'm also assuming this means songs I don't mind others knowing I listen to instead of music i blast out in public, but I don't think I ever mind sharing the songs I like if someone asks : D

So, I guess I'll go with one from each band I've listened to lately!

1. Walkies by Vulfpeck

2. Under Ice by Kate Bush

3. Medium Rare by Pulled Apart By Horses

4. Valley Of The Dolls by Marina

5. Motomami by Rosalía

Tagging @heavenknowsffs @escaping-0blivion @coastal-yearning @just-a-galactic-traveler @chaotic-gay-v and anyone else that wants to do this too is more than welcome to! : D

[boy-armageddon]

if i had a nickel 4 every song Johnny Whitney wrote that had homosexual undertones (overtones if I wasn’t a coward) that was in part about being a criminal on the one w/ another criminal and only having one another, I’d have two nickels, which isn’t a lot but it’s weird that it’s happened twice

[musicrunsthroughmysoul]

I cannot help but be incredibly fond of getting to hear Stuart Adamson very briefly sing Kate Bush's "Running Up That Hill" with even low effort on live TV. God fucking bless (pun intended!).

[on-leatheredwings]

Checkmate

Yandere! Tim Drake / (AFAB) Reader

> romantic, rated M > tw/cw: yandere-typical behaviors (obsession). M rating is for a boner. just some sexual tension. reader is mentioned as bisexual.

> summary: Intellectually, Tim falls fast. Romantically, he falls hard. Seems this time it's both. > a/n: i just wanted to post some tim practice, pls let me know if i did okay. I made him a bit of a fuckboy i guess but ngl i think tim’s just run through af 😭 > word count: 1268

Tim likes you. And knowing himself, soon, he’s going to really like you.

More than anticipated, too. He didn’t think he’d have much of an opinion at all on you, when you had first met on your first day, in your new position as his personal assistant.

Personal assistant. 

At the reveal, he exchanged a hard look with Bruce across the room. Tim Drake had not been slacking on the job. And sometimes he had the eye bags to prove it.

Tim hadn’t even said anything yet, when you chirped, “Think of it as delegation.”

You gave him a pleasant, albeit cheeky look – which he respected. If you had the qualifications and enough charm to impress the hiring manager, who was a notorious hardass in interviews, you were probably fine. Probably more than fine.

Either way, he expected to forget your existence until you texted or called him to remind him about meetings he hadn’t forgotten about.

It turns out, you had… personality. Probably more than you should’ve, working in the professional setting of Wayne Enterprises. You dealt with Tim’s shit (absences, excuses), but gave as good as you got (ultimatums, thinly-veiled blackmail to run and tell Bruce). You were also… very attractive. And clever. And smart. And insightful.

And God, he wonders if you have a boyfriend. Or girlfriend. Partner. And he wonders if he can somehow orchestrate a breakup. 

Tim moves a chess piece across the board. 

Okay, maybe he’s being too hasty. 

Oh, for the love of– you know what? No, he isn’t being too hasty. Anyone working in such close quarters with the heir apparent of Wayne Enterprises is heavily vetted. But it’s about time he did his own background check on you. He has made it three whole months without doing so. 

See, he really is getting over his control issues. Eat that, Stephanie.

Okay, if he’s going to entertain the idea of courting you– Wait, wait, since when was it courting? Yeah, no. He’s merely entertaining the thought of you. He’s been burned too many times now to start courting.

Let’s talk about having sex first before we start talking about dating, he jests with himself.

Anyway. He wonders what would be the most interesting means of going about this. Coming out and confessing would be a little boring. Too easy. His eyes wander to your lips. You’re too focused on making your next move to notice him ogling the soft swell of your chest beneath a sharp button-up. You’ve rolled up the sleeves – very casual for this very casual hangout. You both lounge on your bed, in your bedroom, in your apartment, because if Tim wins, you don’t get to hound him on personally contacting investors. (Sometimes, you gotta leave malcontents out to dry. Make them miss you.)

He hopes you like being experimented with. Or maybe you like experimenting on others. He would do anything you liked because, man, it’s thrilling to know people and their wants. Anything you give, he could take it–

Tim startles as a realization comes to his mind. 

… Him. Taking it.

Is that something he wants? To bottom for you? … Is that something… he wants? 

Yes.

Now that the idea has been conceived, yes, he wants that. So that’s that. 

The reality of whether you’d want to do that… is slim… maybe? You’re bi as well. Maybe that changes things. He’s not going to think about it too hard, because now he’s getting excited.

Tim would love for the skittering, synapses-firing-on-all-cylinders effect in his brain to cool down – for everything to wash over with cool calculation and academic interest. He manages to do that much for even the most intriguing cases. But you… Tim sighs.

And now he’s hard.

Tim shifts uncomfortably. He’s lying on his stomach, held up by his forearms. 

He sighs, even though there’s an evil piece of his brain snickering and taunting, “But you love this, though!” Evil, evil.

At Tim’s increasing silence, you lift a brow. Man, he’s been out of it all game.

“Tim?” He comes back to planet Earth. “It’s your move. Again.” You wear a Cheshire grin. “It’s almost like we’re taking turns, or something.”

He blinks, baby blue eyes clearing up. He shifts in his spot, feeling trills of pleasure from friction against erection. Your sheets. Against his erection. He bites back a smile. Okay, yes, he loves this. He likes hiding like this, right under your nose.

Him getting a boner was a development he had foreseen coming ten minutes ago, once he started daydreaming about you. So he just went ahead and casually switched positions. A risk, but a calculated one. He was pretty sure there’d be no reason for him to get up and expose the tent in his jeans. And boy does he love it when he’s right.

Tim goes to move another piece, when he glances up at you and nearly goes slack-jawed. You don’t meet his eyes. Instead, you wet your lips, seemingly meditating on something.

You meditate on him. After all, Tim is so… pretty. Pretty in a way unlike the rest of his gorgeous brothers. He has pretty eyes framed by dark lashes and a smaller frame, though he’s deceptively muscled under the clean-cut slacks and button ups. He has silky black hair that often falls into his eyes; a defined jaw. And pale skin. He is notably the palest in his family, burning miserably on beach days. It is that pale skin, contrasted so sharply with his dark green tee, that brings your eyes to his collarbones.

Tim nearly erupts.

Fuck, yes. He caught you staring. It takes him self-restraint not to puff out his chest or try to show more skin, lest he reveal his hard-on.

You snap out of it only moments after he notices, grin returning to your face.

“You know if you lose focus like that, I’m going to win,” you tease, almost childlike mischief in your expression. 

Tim so badly wants to parrot the words back at you, but he doesn’t want to scare you into never checking him out ever again. The little inch you just gave him– oh, he intends to take a mile. Whatever small acquiesces you give in the future, he knows he’ll take that and much more.

Now, he’s hungry for you. As soon as this game is done, he’s going to create a new case study file, just for you. He could start kicking his feet at the thought, he's that excited. He’s excited! 

He’ll put the pedestrian, basic stuff like your height, weight, alma mater, major, past jobs and experiences. Somehow get into your social media that’s all on private mode to see what you’re always laughing at on that damn phone. He’s also going to bring up your phone records, go through your email, go through your physical mail. Oh, fuck, surveillance. He’s already in your room, too, luckily. If only he had more of his bugs on hand… The ones he always keeps in his belt buckle will do for now. Also, Tim needs to think of some way to acquire your breast, waist, and hip size – he has a good idea of those measurements, but he wants to know. When is the next time you’ll be out of the house and not at work, he wonders–

“Tim,” you whine, impatient. The sound is music to his ears.

Tim’s eyes rise from the board to your pouting face, and he smiles apologetically. Suddenly, your face dawns with disbelief and indignance.

Tim swiftly picks up one last piece and knocks one yours over.

“Checkmate.”

[daycourtofficial]

I am ash from your fire

Summary: Eris retires after a long night to find his mate, the princess of the night court, in his chambers upset.

Author’s note: Rhys is a jackass in this one. Honestly this was supposed to be Eris comforting reader but idk how it flipped at some point and sometimes you just gotta go with where the story takes you 🤷🏼‍♀️ also I’m headcannoning that Eris reads anything and everything he can get his hands on

(1k celebration masterlist 🍾)

Eris feels his shoulders sag ever so slightly, allowing the formalities of his stature to soften slightly as he moves further into his private chambers.

The only place in the Forest House he can at least somewhat relax. The hues of brown coating the walls, the paintings of hounds and forests covering the walls have been a comfort since his youth.

It was one of the few places Beron never entered. The High Lord would never sully himself by entering into his children’s chambers. No, he’d have word sent to them so they can come to him.

Eris walks towards the bookshelves, long fingers softly gliding over the edges of the leather bindings. His personal library was extensive - books of maps, histories, biographies, all subjects expected of a first-born heir. But also books of poetry, fantasy, and intrigue.

Eris was always a voracious reader, that need for escapism a constant in his life. His hands move on their own accord, searching for something to lose himself in when his ears perk up at a noise in his bedchambers. Unsheathing a dagger from his hip, he moves towards the room, seeing a shadow of movement underneath the door.

He reaches the door, slowly moving his hand to the handle. Once it’s in his hand, he turns it quickly, throwing open the door and pouncing on top of the person in his chambers.

His dagger is held at their throat, determined to find out who sent the risk before disposing of them. A laugh bursts out from under him, his dagger so close to their throat it knicks their throat at their laughs.

“That’s one way to say hello.”

His grip on the dagger falters momentarily, the sweet sounds of his mate’s voice causing him to loosen his hold. He pulls the dagger back, sheathing it back into his pants.

He brushes the hair from your face, taking in your amused look, his other hand going to inspect the slight knick on your throat.

“My precious fox.”

The nickname rolls off his tongue, his senses on high alert at your unexpected presence. He can sense something is off with you, and his eyes roam your body for injury.

Coming up short of any injuries sans the knick he just gave you, he sits on his haunches, grabbing your hands, helping you to sit up. You sit on your legs, keeping a tight hold on Eris’s hands, playing with his fingers.

You pull off one of his rings, sliding it on and off your own fingers, the warm metal soothing your cold hands.

He watches you for a moment, watches your fingers play with the rings he wears every day. He’s never understood your fascination with them, a nervous habit perhaps. He watches as you move the gold ring onto your thumb before pulling you into his arms. The feel of you settles him, and he can finally breathe deeply for the first time in weeks.

He holds you, pressing his face into the side of your neck, breathing in the scent of your hair. He pours what love and devotion he can down the bond, enjoying your presence before he can bring himself to ask why you’re here.

The two of you usually meet in his private cabin, miles and miles from the cruelties of the Forest House. He can’t recall if you’ve ever even been in his private chambers.

You pull back from him, shuffling around so you can sit in between his legs, back pressed to his chest. You know you have to tell him why you’re here, but you can’t look at him while you do it.

You’re not sure what you’ll find from him as you recount your tale.

You take in a breath, deciding to tell him what happened instead of letting him wait.

“Rhys found one of your letters,” you say, not able to look at him. “I was called away while I was reading one of them. It was foolish - I always hide them before leaving my room.”

Something warms in Eris’s chest at the thought of you, courts away from him, pouring over every word in the letters full of love you’d exchange between each other.

Much like he did every night.

“We got into a big fight, and he uh-“

Eris watches the tear slip out, sliding down your face.

“He told me I was no sister of his.”

Eris can’t help the snarl that comes from him, and you gingerly place a hand on his thigh, a motion he knows is grounding the both of you.

“What did his little lackeys have to say?” He spits out, unable to hide his contempt for them as he asks.

His dislike of Cassian and Azriel was no secret, but it took you a long time to coax out of him what about them he disliked.

“Truthfully, I found out how Illyrians treated females and it left a foul taste in my mouth,” he had told you once. It was all you could coax out of him, and perhaps that’s all there was to it.

At his core, Eris defined males by how they treated the females in their lives. Perhaps he assumed that Cassian and Azriel were the same as the other Illyrians and did not want to press further.

“They uh weren’t there,” you reply, “no one else was there. Perhaps he sent them all away so he could throw a fit.”

You laugh a little, thinking of just how red Rhysand’s face had gotten during your fight. You feel Eris’s head lay against your own, his fingers tangling into the strands of your hair.

“He was yelling, screaming about how I was defiling the family name by being with a Vanserra.” You sigh. “Then he began screeching about how you’re awful, you’re terrible, and ‘what about Mor’ and blah blah blah.”

“How’d you respond?” Eris asks, hands idly moving to hold onto yours in a soft grasp.

“I told him to ask Mor about what actually happened that day.”

He hums, allowing you to absentmindedly play with his fingers as you speak.

“He said that Mor would never lie to him. That she would never lie to any of us.” You blow out a breath, “then he said I had been cursed by the Mother to be mated to you.”

Eris knew the words were not your own, but the sound of them on your lips still stung deep in his chest.

“That’s when I told him to fuck off.”

Eris looks down at you as you peer back up at him, adoration, love, and a hint of sadness shines onto you through his gaze.

“We fought back and forth for a while after that. Then, after realizing I wasn’t giving up so easily, he gave me a choice.”

“My family name, my title, my claim to the throne, or you.”

Eris’s grip tightens. You two had spoken about what the worst outcomes would be if you were found out. Neither of you had ever expected Rhys to disown you.

Rhysand, who adored his little sister more than anything. Rhysand, who insisted you were an integral part of his life. Rhysand, who constantly ensured you were safe and happy.

He threw all that away the second he said you would never give up your tiara collection for Eris.

“Oh, my little fox.”

He peers down at you, your eyes wide as you peer up at him, your face upside down.

He knew he’d never get to love you wholly, unabashedly, publicly. He always knew something would come between you. He lets his gaze linger, memorizing the slope of your nose, the curve of your cheeks. His fingers move and, without his prompting, they start gliding across your face. They move as if he were studying it, preparing himself to have to recognize you in blindness.

To only see you in the darkest hour of the night, when his fingers can retrace these patterns, and pretend you’re next to him again.

He could, he thinks. He’d recognize you anywhere. His breath is shaky, knowing he will have to wait until you two are gone from this world to be together.

He would spend the entirety of his afterlife searching for you, in whatever form you took. If you were nothing more than stardust, a gentle whisper on the wind every Starfall, his flame would burn higher that day, reaching out for you one last time.

He resigns himself to these last few minutes with you, but he doesn’t feel the despair in his heart mirrored in your own.

You feel hopeful. You feel open.

He can’t ask, but you know he needs to hear it.

“I am no longer the Princess of the Night Court.”

Hot tears pour down his face, and he struggles to keep his mouth closed to keep from gasping at your decision. A tear falls onto your face beneath his, splashing across your cheek.

“I am officially without a name, without a home, and with no title,” your voice full of more determination than Eris could imagine, “I humbly ask if you could provide these things for me.”

A strangled sob breaks from him, and you twist in his arms to hold him. Surprise takes over your face, utter shock cascading through the bond before you can stop it.

Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn Court, a master of masks and facades, always playing the sly courtier three steps ahead. Never in all the years have you known him have you ever seen him so emotional.

Eris looks to the ceiling as you throw your arms around him, embracing him tightly. The heat from his hands was clawing at your back, but it didn’t burn.

You shushed him as he continued crying into your hair, the sight of him becoming undone such a shock to your system.

“I apologize, my love, deeply and truly.”

His hands stay on you, every inch of you needing to make that contact with him.

For so long, his life revolved around choices he was not privy to, choices that were not his. He was a pawn in an ever tiring game, one he was trying to make his way out of.

He presses you into him, unable to believe that someone, anyone, especially you, would choose him.

You chose him. You chose him the day the bond had snapped, and you chose him now, when everything was on the line for you.

He knew that he would make the same choice, putting everything on the line for you, preparing to finally take down Beron.

“I choose you too.”

[thegnomelord]

i took 357191027r6392936446322736432947372 psychic damage from the Makarov fic so you gotta write reader being rescued, healed, rehabilitated and loved by the task force. imagine them teaching reader to be their own person or letting him top without any commands or punishments. reader would be whining like a puppy who doesn't know what it's doing and would be so cute and fearful looking for reasurance when fucking into a task force member it would be so cute

lol idk dude. I was intending to do the fic as a one off to satisfy my puplay kink but it's now started to rot my brain even more lol. If I did continue it, I don't know if I'd want a happy ending or an angsty one (omfg imagine going through all the healing and rehab and experiencing love only for one word from Makarov to have you going back to him without question)

So tell me ya'll if you want me to turn the one shot into a longer fic lol, but for now here's some headcannons, ideas/ whatever and some porn

CW:NSFW, rough anal, Simon x reader with Price watching, dom/sub.

I can't imagine Hound would be happy about the 'rescue' considering everything and definitely would be resistant to rehab (Hound biting ppl and getting muzzled lol) that dogheaded asinine stubbornness coming to bite him in the ass. I headcannon Hound to have already been violent when he was under Price's command but Price kept Hound in check(if anyone's seen that young ghost and price comic with him being compared to a fighting dog it's kinda like that).

Makarov didn't need to do much and just played into the aggressive tendency to make Hound as they are now. The more violent the reaction hound would make, the more attention and praise he'd get. Also I'm just a sucker for dog like characters that are unhinged. That have no moral compass except for the one they're loyal to and will do whatever they ask.

So the task force members would have their hands full with Hound that's basically an aggressive fighting dog taken straight out of the pit. Also I'm still thinking whether the 141 would try to steer Hound away from the pup/dog like mentality Makarov conditioned them into, or if they would try to redirect it by calling Hound 'pup, boy' etc, instead of 'dog' like Makarov did.

Also the grief Price would feel to see the man he thought was dead turned into that would break his heart. I don't know if I'd want him to crack down on trying to rehab hound, or let a lot of things slide because he's scared of fucking you up more.

But also like rehabed fighting dogs turn out to be the sweetest animals and Hound just going from this 'I will bite your throat out' to just a gentle giant that's just happy to be able to touch or hug someone without needed permission. . . but he can still bite a throat out.

Also I 1000% swear that Makarov's a whore and would have trained reader to have enough stamina to fuck him all night long so the task force would get pounded into next year lol.

This is questionable cannon and non-confirmed lol you just got me brain rotting with the cute pup part and this came out. Rough and quick.

CW:NSFW

You feel like you will die; heat burns through your veins, sweat crawls down your skin and makes your hair stick to your forehead. Your hands grip Simon's bruised hips, holding them up for him as you pound into him. "Please-" You barely manage a small whimper, hiding your face in Simon's shoulder.

Simon's body quivers beneath you, limp and boneless, a wet hole for you to use. He's as sweaty as you, rough grunts and half-formed swears leaping from his lips every time your hips meet his ass in a bruising thrust. He's the closest to you in size, albeit still smaller, which makes it easier for him to take your size than the others. His insides are a sweltering heat around your cock, fucked into a loose sloppy hole that would gape if you pulled out, muscles still doing their best to squeeze you every time you nail his prostate.

It makes you feel ashamed how long it took you to find it. Mounting anyone but Makarov feels wrong, you're not sure how fast or how deep to go, this current rough pace making Simon the most vocal since you began. You feel him cum again, walls clenching tightly for the first time in a while as you force him into spurting what's left in his empty balls.

"Pl- sir, I- please, please," You can't help but hiccup, your nails leaving crescent bruises in his skin as you just pound him through his orgasm. It's his fourth one.

"What's wrong son?" Price's words barely get through the fog of need in your skull, more little whimpers splitting from your lips. "Don't you want to let go?" Tears blurry your vision, you can barely see his face from where he's resting Simon's head in his lap.

You can't cum. Your balls are so full they feel like they'll explode any second, cock throbbing to finally shoot your load but no matter how harshly you thrust into the willing hole beneath you. It feels like those times Makarov would put a cock ring on you, but worse, now it's your own body refusing to give you release. You haven't earned it.

"Please-" You repeat, because that's the best your mind can come up with, your hips stuttering as overstimulation stabs your nervous system like a knife. "I-please, fuck- I can't." You force out, forcing yourself to return to the punishing pace, your pelvis starting to go numb like it would a few hours into Makarov using you as a living dildo.

Price's fingers are disgustingly gentle as they curl into your sweaty hair, making you look up at him with soft pressure on your scalp. There's no bite to his touch, no pain, it's too good for a thing like you.

You'll thank what god exists that Price seemingly understands your problem, "Oh, son." You hate the hint of sorrow in his tone, you hate yourself more for how it makes your heart pound in your ears. "Here, let me" He whispers, his other hand sliding down to your naked neck.

The lack of any collars around your neck still disgusts you every waking moment, still makes you feel wrong, bad dog. His fingers wrap around your throat. They're too loose to be a proper collar, but it lets you breathe easier, his palm warm and big enough to completely cover the 'V.M' tattooed on your skin.

"Go on, that's a good boy." He whispers, "Cum for us." Price orders, kissing you so softly it disgusts you, like heaven wrapped in thorns.

You feel fresh tears spill down your tears as the dam not letting you cum is finally torn down. You hiccup your 'thank you sir's against his lips as you spill inside Simon. You can just distantly hear Simon groan as you dump your cum into his sloppy hole, muscles weakly fluttering around your cock as you roll your hips, fucking your cum deeper into him, just the act of cumming hurting almost as much as being denied, your balls aching with every spurt of cum.

You collapse on Simon, pushing the breath out of his lungs, as boneless as him. You don't struggle when Price rolls you to your side, your cock slipping out. Cum and lube gushes out from his hole like a firehose, flooding the small space between you two, his rim red and irritated, muscles weakly fluttering around nothing as they try to close.

You try to thank him but you slur your words into his skin, feeling the muscles in his abdomen quiver as you huddle closer and wrap your arms around him, your chest pressed flush to his back. You expect him to pull away, Makarov hated being vulnerable like this longer than he needed, but all Simon does is grunt and tip his head back so you can hide your face in the space between his shoulder and neck.

"You olright Simon?" Price asks, brushing a hand through your sweaty hair for a few seconds before you feel him softly wiping away your spend from you two.

"Fuck," Simon breathes out, voice scratchy and rough. "Are we sure Makarov's human?" His hand reaches up to scratch your scalp as you kiss one of the numerous bite marks you left on him. His skin is a canvass of black and blue bruises, your bite marks starting to clot across his body. "Shit, I can't feel my legs."

His words feel like a slap in the face, and you don't notice how you let out a small whimper, your hold tightening. This is it, you'll have to let him go soon, he'll order you to leave like Makarov always did.

"None of that son." Price's voice is calm in your ear, rubbing soothing circles between your shoulder blades. "You did good."

Simon hums, his fingers running lower to scruff you, "Mhm, yeah," His words are slurred, exhaustion weighing on both of you. "Best snog I've ever had." He grumbles, and you don't doubt he won't admit it in the morning, but for the moment, as you feel yourself slowly drift off to sleep, you let yourself enjoy the praise, the warmth of human touch, the care you can feel in both of them.

This is starting to feel nice.

[casuallyanidiot]

hi do you agree to do a story about yandere husband with darling wife who wants to divorce him but her in laws enable her husband and doesn't let her upset him even a little (because it will break the poor man heart)

Oooooh very very toxic!

Yandere husband knows that you and your family are kind of estranged. They push your boundaries in ways that you don't like, and you express how much sway they have over your decisions. He turns up his sympathetic, understanding charm whenever they pressure you into painting the house a different color, or when they push you into hosting an event that you didn't even want to attend.

Yandere husband who hates seeing your family push and prod you in very subtle ways. They're not nearly as good at manipulation as he is, but you're just so sweet and soft that you just can't say no. That's why he loves you, honey. He likes being the shoulder that you cry on after you've been bullied yet again.

But then you go and fuck it up.

Yandere husband can't help but roll his eyes and laugh when you call him crazy and obsessive. So what if he has a collection of intimate and invasive photos of you? It's your fault for looking, honey. He's frustrated when for the first time in forever, he can't seem to get you where he needs you to be. Now you're all going off about how you want a divorce. It's so stupid, but he knows that for once he has to take you seriously.

It's such a pain in the ass when he cozies up to your family. He's always been in good graces with them anyways, so it doesn't take much to have them lapping from his hands like good, obedient mutts.

Soon, your family is hounding you for even thinking to leave him. They call you dramatic for wanting to divorce such a wonderful, caring man over some pictures. After all, anyone should be grateful to have a partner that would even care about you enough to do that in the first place. They make it clear. You try and separate from your Yandere Husband, you will no longer be welcome in your family.

It's such a slap in the face, and Yandere husband feels a little guilty, but it's a small issue compared to how relieved he was now that you were safely wrapped in his arms. He send thank you messages to the rest of your family, all complete with a photo of your smiling face he forced you to take. He invites them all to the baby shower that he's planning in the nearby future.

He's seen how much your relatives can help him keep you in place. It's a comforting feeling to know you're so pliant and polite, so now he's gotta make sure that you have his baby. That way he can have another tether to keep you close.

[glitter-stained]

More Star Sapphire Jason from the batfam lantern AU because you gotta feed the hounds:

Jason: *makes a gun construt*

Jason: *makes a shotgun construct*

Jason: *makes a machine gun construct*

Jason: Okay, fine. I understand the appeal.

*****

Jason: *passive aggressively drops a detailed rendition of the Joker's severed head as a construct at Bruce's feet.*

Bruce: And who exactly is fueling your emotion to maintain such a complex construct?

Jason: It's called self-love.

Bruce: Now see, that I will not believe.

****

Jason plays Go Fetch with Dog using construct balls and sticks as practice. It works great, because Jason loves Dog.

***

Jason: hey Kyle, you don't have to look at them like that, you know I don't have tasers there in that uniform right? I really tried, but the space magic won't let me incorporate most of my Red Hood suit features into it.

Kyle, who definitely was staring at Jason's uniform's boob window : What? I wasn't looking, why would I be looking- wait, your other uniform has tasers where?

*****

Jason: *tries his best to make a flamethrower construct, cannot construct the necessary chemical reaction*

Jason: *tries to make a construct of a book he has been wanting to read but hasn't gotten to yet, the pages are blank.*

Jason: *tries to construct himself a cup of tea and drink it, fails.*

Jason: *tries to construct an actual living breathing cat. Obviously fails.*

Jason: I think God hates me.

*****

Jason, beating Bruce up with a baseball bat construct made out of his love for him: So, my relationship with my dad is going great-

_____

Alternate Lantern Lore explained in this post:

[crimsonbubble]

Sweet Dressings

cw. nsfw, afab!reader, college prof. joong, office sex, exhibitionism, praise, nipple play, clothed sex, creampie, cockwarming *not proofread, just pure horny

[indirect part two of bitter toppings]

taglist (dm to be tagged); @sidusvenari @sugarnspice630 @ravenempress101 @autieofthevalley @linearities @wisejudgedragonhairdo @madiexuberant @mifuelarts @straytiny127 @yun-fangz @huen1ngk41 @juyeonshour @uniq-tastic @hongjng8 @miyaluvvsyou

There's no doubt that Hongjoong loves you, and his students love you too. They've all seen pictures of you and have heard all types of stories about you. Of course, this now means that they're all hounding him to meet you. So when your scheduled day off falls on one of his working days, he knows to make the most of it.

As much as he loved the time spent with his students, he loved having you in his personal on-campus office. It's cozy and homey. The perfect place to have some downtime. If your planned downtime means perched all pretty in your husband's lap with your dress bunched around your hips and your soaked panties pushed to the side, then you're in luck.

Hongjoong's hands grab handfuls of your ass, bouncing you on his cock. “Fuck me, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.” He greedily tugs at your dress straps, pushing them down your shoulders and tugging the hem down your chest. His hips bucked up as he groped and fondled your chest. His lips sectioning around your pert bud. You clung to his forwards, nails digging into the taut muscles. “So fucking tight ‘round me, such a good fucking girl for me.”

The rushed and breathy tone made you clench, rocking your hips even harder. Hongjoong moaned against your flushed skin, his hips kicking up with every muffled whimper that threatened to leave your lips. “Fuck, baby. Im so fucking close.” Hongjoong tugged at your puffy nipples with just teeth, lapping his tongue over it and repeating the process. He slipped a hand between your bodies, rubbing your clit in quick circles.

Your body grew taut, writhing against his as you peaked. Hongjoong pumped himself inside you in uneven thrusts, his mouth falling open as your pulsing cunt milks him dry. You hid your face in his neck, breathing labored as he steadily fucked you through the haze. Hongjoong's hands fell to your hips, smoothing out your dress as you both came down from bliss. Hongjoong lazily kissed up your neck, his arms wrapping around your waist.

Hongjoong's alarm made you jump apart, hitting your back against the edge of his desk. He silenced the alarm, sighing as he hid his face in your chest. He whined softly, most of it muffled as he cuddled further into you. There were a few minutes of peaceful silence as you held each other, letting the outer world fade. Until another alarm went off, startling both of you again.

Hongjoong carefully pulled you off of his dick, pulling your panties back into place. He pulled your straps back onto your shoulders, adjusting the bodice with nimble fingers. He helped you stand, kissing above your knee as he helped you step into your shoes that you had hurriedly kicked off when you walked into his office. “There's a bathroom down the hall on the left. I gotta go now, but I'll be home before 7, I promise.” He guided you with a hand on your back, pressing a lingering kiss on your lips as he walked out the door.

He turned around to you as he walked backward, sending you a kiss and waving as he trekked down the halls. A smile tugged at his lips as you rolled your eyes, waving to him as you headed for the bathroom.

Hongjoong's phone dinged in his pocket, switching his bag to his other hand to grab it. Another adoring smile on his face as he read your message. “Don't keep me waiting too long, professor Kim <33” He quickly types out a reply as he gets to the stairs, tucking his phone back into pocket as he approaches his final class.

“I won't, sweetheart. Home by 7, as always :))”

[dee-writes-smut]

Hopping, Hopeful Hounds (Eris Week Day Four)

FEATURING Eris Vanserra x Reader

SUMMARY Eris' peaceful proposal doesn't go as planned thanks to his excited pack of hounds

CONTENT WARNINGS just people getting tackled by dogs, the only pure fluff you'll ever see from me LMAO

AUTHORS NOTE happy day four @erisweekofficial!!! I'm early today, gotta give myself a pat on the back for that one. Any whoooo, today is tradition and hounds, hope you enjoy!

The crisp air of the Autumn Court was scented with the rich fragrance of falling leaves, the last hues of daylight casting everything in a golden-orange glow. You stood at the edge of the forest, arms wrapped around yourself as you watched the gentle sway of the trees, the ground beneath your feet blanketed in amber and russet leaves. It was peaceful, almost too quiet for a place so alive, but that peace settled into you, grounding you in the moment.

Eris had invited you here, to this quiet part of the Autumn woods, and while you didn’t know why, you didn’t question it. There was always something calming about the time you spent together, especially here, in the forests you both loved. His presence brought you comfort, a warmth that wrapped around you just as gently as the autumn breeze.

Footsteps crunched softly behind you, and you turned to see Eris approaching, his red hair glowing like fire in the golden light. There was something different about him today—a certain nervousness in his step, a glint in his amber eyes that had you tilting your head in curiosity.

He stopped a few feet away, giving you one of his crooked smiles. “You’ve always loved this place, haven’t you?”

“I have,” you said softly, letting your gaze drift around the forest again. “It feels like home in a way.”

Eris stepped closer, his hands sliding into his pockets as he watched you. “It’s always been that way for me too,” he murmured. “Especially with you here.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing the weight behind his words but unsure what he was leading to. The gentle teasing he usually employed was absent, replaced by a sincerity that made your heart beat just a little faster.

“Eris—”

But before you could ask him what was going on, he took a deep breath and, to your shock, dropped down on one knee. Your breath hitched, your eyes widening as you realized what was happening.

“(Y/N),” he began, his voice warm and steady, “I’ve spent my whole life thinking I didn’t deserve happiness. That love was something other people could have, but not me. But then… then you came into my life, and everything changed.”

Your heart fluttered as you stared down at him, a million thoughts racing through your mind, but you were frozen in place, overwhelmed by the weight of the moment.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” he continued, his eyes soft and filled with an emotion that took your breath away. “I love you, and I can’t imagine a future without you by my side.”

Just as he reached for something in his coat pocket—presumably a ring—you heard a sound that broke the solemn air. It was a deep bark, followed by the unmistakable rustle of paws against the forest floor. Your head whipped around just in time to see Eris’s hounds barreling toward him at full speed, their large bodies moving with all the grace of excited puppies.

“No, no, wait—!” Eris barely had time to shout before the first of the hounds tackled him, knocking him flat on his back with a loud thud. You gasped, your hands flying to your mouth as the rest of the hounds eagerly joined in, piling on top of him in a flurry of wagging tails, wet noses, and happy barks.

The sight was so absurdly comical that you couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Eris, his face somewhere beneath the mound of fur, let out a groan, though there was no real frustration in his voice.

“I was in the middle of something important, you little terrors,” he muttered, struggling to sit up as one of the hounds licked his face eagerly.

You couldn’t stop laughing, tears forming in your eyes as you knelt beside the pile of dogs, doing your best to help Eris untangle himself from his furry companions. The hounds, completely oblivious to the seriousness of the situation, only seemed more excited by your laughter, their tails wagging even harder.

After a few moments, Eris managed to sit up, his hair a mess and his expression somewhere between exasperation and amusement. “This wasn’t exactly how I pictured this going,” he said, a smile tugging at his lips despite the chaos.

You finally managed to stop laughing long enough to speak. “Maybe it’s better this way,” you teased, brushing a lock of his tousled hair out of his face.

His amber eyes softened as he looked up at you, still on one knee, even with the hounds clumsily nudging at him for attention. He held out the small box he’d somehow managed to keep safe during the ambush and opened it, revealing a simple yet elegant ring, sparkling in the fading light.

“Will you marry me?” he asked again, his voice quieter now, more vulnerable.

Your heart swelled as you gazed down at him, surrounded by the love he had for his hounds, the love he was offering to you. And in that moment, nothing felt more right.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion. “Of course I will.”

As soon as the word “yes” left your lips, the smile on Eris's face was brilliant, almost blinding in the soft light of the Autumn Court. Before you had time to fully process the moment, he pulled you into his arms, still kneeling, wrapping you up in a warm, firm embrace. The hounds circled around, their excitement palpable as they barked and wagged their tails wildly.

You barely had a second to savor the feel of his arms around you before something heavy collided with your back.

Another hound—then two, then three—threw themselves against you, tackling you both in their joy. You let out a surprised yelp as you were sent tumbling forward, right on top of Eris. The two of you collapsed onto the forest floor in a tangle of limbs and fur, laughter bubbling up from deep within your chest.

Eris groaned dramatically beneath you, though you could see the laughter twinkling in his eyes as he lay beneath the weight of you and his boisterous hounds.

"Really? Now they go after you too?" he teased, his voice strained under the pile of dogs enthusiastically licking your faces.

You were laughing so hard you could hardly respond, your sides aching from both the impact and the hilarity of the moment. One particularly large hound licked your cheek, its tail wagging so hard that it nearly knocked over another one of its companions. The pile of fur and limbs wriggled with excitement, completely oblivious to the fact that they had just interrupted one of the most important moments of your life.

“I guess they wanted to make sure I wasn’t getting away after I said yes!” you managed to gasp between giggles, your face buried against Eris’s chest as the dogs continued their excited assault.

Eris chuckled, his arms wrapping around you tightly, pulling you closer despite the chaos. “You’re definitely not getting away now,” he said, his voice soft but full of warmth. “Not from me.”

One of the hounds let out a happy bark as if in agreement, and the rest of them seemed to settle down, content to simply be there in the moment with the two of you. You finally looked up at Eris, your face flushed from laughing so hard, and saw the way he was gazing at you—like you were his entire world, chaos and all.

With the hounds still playfully nuzzling into the two of you, Eris leaned up, brushing his lips against your forehead with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

“You’ve made me the happiest male alive,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the forest and the contented huffs of his hounds.

You smiled, resting your head against his chest as the weight of the hounds pressed down on both of you, the forest quieting around you as the last traces of sunlight filtered through the trees.

“I think I’m the luckiest,” you murmured, glancing around at the mess of dogs and leaves that now surrounded you both.

Eris let out a soft laugh, brushing a strand of hair from your face as he looked down at you. “Welcome to life with me and the pack,” he teased.

And as you lay there in the cool autumn breeze, tangled up in love, laughter, and fur, you knew you wouldn’t have it any other way.

ERIS WEEK TAGLIST

@littlest-w01f @mp-littlebit