#i’m pretentious only in the noble and just ways

[saintobio]

⊹★⋆ two wheels and a hot guy.

pairings. gojo satoru, fem!reader tags. 1k wc, biker boy x biker girl au, non-sorcerer au, crack, fluff, dirty jokes (?), satoru rides an s1k, biker!sukuna mentions, same au as my other fic. sparked by a random idea bcos why haven't we thought abt biker!gojo honestly? he would be so funny on tiktok if he was a biker boy lmao

You’ve all heard about Biker!Sukuna. That famous biker boy on biketok who has tattoos and rides a blacked out Yamaha R1. 

But have you heard about Biker!Gojou? 

Well… For starters, Satoru Gojou wasn’t a seasoned biker. 

In fact, he was more of a poser than anything, but you’d never catch him admitting that. His prized BMW S1000RR, the crown jewel of superbikes, was more about image than skill. The sleek, aggressive lines of the machine, combined with the prestige of the BMW logo, were all he needed to keep up appearances on TikTok. And he learned that appearances were everything, especially when Sukuna, with his obnoxious face tattoos and natural charisma, hogged the limelight (especially from all the girls!) with every post, even with a girlfriend already in tow. The sheer audacity of that scum was enough to drive Satoru up the wall. Fine, he had to admit. He was jealous of Sukuna’s popularity and the fact that he snatched a cute booktok girlfriend as his backpack. 

Suguru, his best friend and fellow biker, didn’t let him forget it either. As they stood by their bikes outside Barnes & Noble to spot booktok girls, Suguru glanced at Satoru’s liter bike and smirked. 

“Pretentious motherfucker,” he muttered, slinging a leg over his Yamaha MT-10, the less flashy but undeniably badass naked bike. Unlike Gojou, Suguru didn’t care about clout. The MT-10 was all about raw power and agility, the kind of bike a real rider appreciated. “You only got that thing because it’s a BMW. You gonna actually ride it for real one of these days?”

“Shut up.” Satoru rolled his eyes, adjusting his white Alpinestars riding gloves while holding his phone up to go live on TikTok. Starting with a 1000cc as a beginner bike wasn’t a very wise choice, but still... “People love the S1K, you know that.”

And let me tell you about Satoru’s favorite time of the day (or night). It was whenever he would go live, and the comments would pour in as soon as his stream started. That was when he could lavish in his social media presence the most.

user19463: Bro, when are you gonna show us some actual riding content?

anon875biker: All that thirst trapping. Bet you don’t even take that thing out of the garage. 

harleysRbetter: U punks R ruining the riding community! 

Gojou grinned at the screen, winking at both his followers and haters. “Alright, boomers, calm down. I’ll post some riding content soon. Don’t cry too much before then, yeah?”

r1.skn: Sir, can you do wheelies? 

Suguru found that comment hilarious, recognizing the username and knowing exactly who it belonged to—Sukuna. But Satoru’s competitive nature kicked in instantly while he continued to scroll through the comments. “Yeah, I can do wheelies. Ignore Sukuna, guys. Focus on me!”

msbikerluvr: Still looking for a backpack, Gojou? Lmao.

“About the backpack… you know, I’m just waiting for the right one. Applications are still open—” He was about to launch into another witty retort when a sound cut through the chatter of his stream—it was a deep, throaty rev that sent a shiver of excitement down his spine. Satoru’s head immediately whipped to the direction of the sound, just in time to see a flash of race blue zipping down the street.

There you were, riding a Yamaha R7, your black Dainese jacket hugging your curves as you leaned into the wind. The way you handled the bike, so smooth and confident, it was as if the motorcycle was an extension of you. 

“Damn, she’s hot.” Without a second thought, Satoru ended the live stream abruptly, “Gotta go, guys. Someone just stole my heart,” and pocketed his phone.

“Did you seriously just—” Suguru started, but Satoru was already mounting his S1000RR.

“Catch you later, Suguru!” he called, gunning the engine without even looking at his best friend. Soon enough, the 1000cc bike roared to life when he shifted into first gear, and he sped off in pursuit of the blue R7.

He caught sight of you at the next red light, the signal holding you in place just long enough for him to catch up. Thank God there was no sign of a biker boyfriend around when he pulled up alongside you, visor down, adrenaline still kicking him alive. He tried to get your attention by revving his S1K, and you turned your head slightly, barely acknowledging him as you pulled your visor up and revealed the prettiest eyes Gojou had ever seen. 

Satoru flipped up his visor too, then flashed his most charming grin. “Hey there,” he said, trying to keep his voice smooth and casual. Like it was a normal encounter. “You’re fast. I like that.”

You may have rolled your eyes, but he could tell you were smirking underneath the balaclava as you talked through the Cardo intercom linked to your AGV K1s. “And you’re obnoxious. I don’t like that.”

Oooh, she’s spicy. He laughed at the silly thought in his head, unbothered by your dismissal. “Come on, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to get to know the girl who stole my heart in the middle of a live stream.”

“Your heart, huh?” you teased, revving her engine just slightly. “Sounds like you’re more interested in what’s under my jacket.”

“Now that’s a baseless accusation,” he retorted, leaning in slightly. “I don’t do anything on the first night, you know. I usually wait until the second, after a nice dinner. I’m a gentleman like that.”

His remark made you snort, shaking your head at his boldness. “You’re a ridiculous guy.”

“But I’m also serious,” he added, his voice sincere despite the playful glint in his eyes. “Let me take you out, just dinner. No strings, no funny business—unless you’re into that kind of thing. I don’t mind that, either.”

Your laughter sounded like a sweet melody to his ears. “You’ve got guts, mister. I’ll give you that.” Has anyone told you how hot you looked while leaning into your bike? Damn. Satoru was distracted, checking you out for a moment until you spoke again, “Fine. One dinner. But don’t think you’re getting into my pants just because you ride a fancy bike.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he promised, grinning from ear to ear.

The light turned green, and without another word, you revved your engine and took off with Satoru right on your tail. The chase was on, but this time, it wasn’t just about the thrill of the ride. 

For Satoru Gojou, it was about something far more exhilarating—winning the attention of the most intriguing biker girl he’d ever met. 

And perhaps, the biker boyfriend and backpack girlfriend content he’d been hoping to post on Tiktok may slightly change into a different direction than he expected. 

[coralinnii]

Hello! If u dont remember me I'm the person that requested the villainess au Trey x reader from a long time ago, just wanna drop in and say I really look forward to your works and hope you have a great day/night/time! Sorry for bothering you if this message ends up being a bother

‧₊˚✧ Being Reincarnated into a New World as the Bad Guy‧₊˚✧

feat: Trey

genre: slow burn, coworkers-to-something more

note: no pronouns were used for reader, reader is implied to be old enough to work, mentions of poisoning and assassination attempts, reader is somewhat emotionally constipated.

extra note: While Trey is not quite in-character as I would like, he is supposed to be younger than his canon version, so I wanted him to be more unsure and inexperienced than his future self.

I did it, I finally got this done. Praise me (don't)

Being Reincarnated as the Bad Guy aka Villain/ess AU masterlist

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense. No, you seriously don’t.

One minute you were finally getting off a particularly bad shift at work, only to be in this strange world you don’t recognize…as a low-ranking servant to the bloody royal family!

The rules, the standards, the pretentious nobles you have to smile in fear of having your neck sliced…where’s OSHA when you need them?

At least your coworkers were decent and you’re not in charge of anything too major like waiting on the Queen or her son, unlike that young aide-in-training you see running up and down the palace…poor Sir Clover.

Not your problem, though

…Until a couple of greedy noblemen forced a vial of poison into your hands, promising you a grand reward of money and status for your compliance. They wanted you to spike the drink of the crown prince’s closest aide-in-training so they could plant their own men by his side.

With your best service smile on, you handed back the vial back.

“No ❤️”

When they try to threaten you, you kindly remind them that if they plan to drag you in the mud, you’re not above pulling them along with you.

“If I’m going down, I’m dragging everyone with me.”

Once that was over, you wanted to cleanse yourself from this ugly conspiracy. You were way too busy worrying about your own neck, and you assumed that Sir Clover was cautious over his own safety that you, a mere worker bee, have nothing to contribute.

However, you do notice that the young green-haired man seems to prioritize others over himself, and the lights to his room are often still lit until late into the night. An honest young man burdened with responsibilities; his defenses may not always be on guard…

Ugghh, what a pain in the-

“Um, excuse me?” You looked to the tall nobleman trying to capture your attention.

“Yes, Sir Clover?”

“Were you originally scheduled to work today?”

You held your urge to click your tongue. Of course, Trey would be aware of at least who was scheduled to wait on Prince Riddle and him. What an annoyingly conscientious man.

“My colleague was feeling unwell so I offered to take her place for today. I apologize for not informing you beforehand.” You bowed politely which made the bespectacled man a little flustered.

“No, I’m grateful she could take a rest. Thank you for taking up the role but please let us know next time so we can offer some medical help if needed.”

That wouldn’t be necessary, you thought as you nodded regardless. Your coworker wasn’t really sick in any way but she was more than happy to switch schedules with you.

Many of the servants are under the impression that you harbored a crush on the admittedly cute aide-in-training since you were caught glancing at his direction more often than usual. It wouldn't be surprising if your “crush” in question is also aware of the gossip, which leads to his tenseness around you. Be it kindness or hesitance, Sir Clover chose not to reprimand you for doing as you please.

“What a pain, but I guess it works in my favor anyway.”

A knock rang through the room and with Riddle’s permission, an anxious maid came in with a tray carrying a tea set, confusing everyone in the room.

It’s not time for afternoon tea yet.

“What is the meaning of this?” For someone so young, Riddle’s sharp tone ran a deadly chill down everyone’s back. “Afternoon tea is not for another 13 minutes.”

The maid stuttered in fear, the tea set clattering slightly in her hands. “T-The servants thought that His Highness and Sir C-Clover have been working tirelessly today and perhaps some tea could help.”

You had too much of a survival instinct to dare look at the prince but the silence and building heat in the air was evidence enough that the thought was not appreciative.

Trey was quick to clear the tension with an awkward cough and a smile. “Thank you, I could use some.”

At his words, you dutifully proceeded to reach for the set when the maid hastily pulled it away from you.

Strange

“I-I can do it. Please excuse me” Without sparing a glance towards you, the maid quickly set the tray down on a nearby table and worked to pour a cup.

You’ve seen this maid only a few times. She was a new addition to the roster, too new to approach the royal family but here she was. She hadn't even learned how to properly hold the pot which was noticeable to everyone but was ignored (at the behest of Trey’s wordless plea) due to assumed inexperience.

“She’s so nervous but here she is, so adamant about serving some damn tea…”

A suffocating feeling rising in your throat, you watched with trepidation as the maid walked towards Trey while holding the teacup almost too preciously.

“Eek!” The maid shrieked when your hand squeezed her wrist in an unforgiving grip. She turned to question you but your glare kept her silent.

Trey looked at you with confusion, but your attention kept on the shaking maid and the teacup. With your other hand, you reach for your silver brooch given as part of your uniform to symbolize you as a person of the royal family.

The confusion in Trey’s eyes turned to disbelief when he watched your silver brooch become a damning color as you dipped the silver into the tea.

The broken maid would have crumbled completely onto the pristine floor if not for your hand still on her wrist. While she seemed to be a bumbling mess begging for her life, you couldn’t risk her making a run for it.

You don’t get paid enough for this nonsense.

”So, it was a plan to replace me…permanently.”

You stood silently in front of the solemn man in his office. After arresting her, it was easy to extract information from the maid and prince Riddle is gathering evidence for their act of treason, including your own interrogation.

“You are the trusted aide-to-be of the prince that cannot be bribed. You’re considered an obstacle.” You bowed your head. “I apologize for not speaking out sooner but if it were just my words without evidence, I could have my tongue removed for accusing nobility.”

If it was just you, then you wouldn’t be as confident. But to think that those corrupted nobles managed to convince someone else to do their dirty work. They were desperate and now that there was an attempt, the higher authorities have to take action.

“I shouldn’t feel bad for that maid…why should I for the choice she made…” you could still feel the sensation of that woman’s shaking body in the hand that held her. You don’t like it.

“Ha, you really don’t sugarcoat your words.” Trey’s voice pulled you back as he tried to laugh but his young body felt too heavy to put his whole heart into it.

But it’s finally over. The poisoning failed and those stupid noble scums were on Prince Riddle’s hit-list. That feeling of guilt that ate at your heart could finally rest in peace…right?

Even when he was the victim of all this, Trey was still sitting in his office in charge of investigating his own assassination attempt, on top of his usual duties in assisting the Royal family.

“Thank you for your time,” he even dares to smile kindly at you with dark circles under his warm eyes. “If you could, please call over the head staff to plan on interrogating the rest of the servants.”

“No.”

“N-No?”

“I won’t be doing that. I could ask the head staff to leave his schedule open if needed or if he could handle it with the guards since that’s his f*cking job,” You stared right into Trey’s eyes which widened in surprise. “For now, I humbly suggest Sir Clover to take a rest in his room or to work on something other than your assassination case.”

You didn’t wait for your stunned employer to reply as you bowed politely once more. “If there is nothing else, I shall take my leave.”

You moved away, making your way to the door before pausing. You glanced back at the young man in such a large office and your consciousness felt heavy. Your body was physically no older than Trey or Riddle but the weight on their shoulders was immeasurable, too much for either of them to handle on their own.

“Sir Clover,” you refused to look him in the eyes, “if you ever need anything…I’m willing to assist however I can.”

Immediately regretting your embarrassing words, you quickly added “but during work hours only!” before hastily leaving the office.

A shame really, since you missed the way Trey let out a genuine laugh after so long.

[thebellearchives]

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋

~ lucifer ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : the tension of dancing with the last of the seven sins who refuses to make a pact with you might feel like something else besides rivalry

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!mc, i used “Morningstar” as a last name

‧₊˚ a / n : genuinely no context here, it’s very much based on the OG timeline but i just randomly added a ball before mc made a pact with Lucifer because yes 💃🏻 and no i’m still not a luci girlie okay I JUST HAD THOUGHTS bye

You walked towards the center of the room guided by Lucifer Morningstar’s gloved hand. Your heart pounded in your chest, demons eyed you up and down as The Avatar of Pride elegantly turned to you. Violins and cellos slowly started filling up the ballroom when Lucifer held your hand and your waist under a glistening chandelier, each crystal reminiscent of luxurious jewelry.

“Your first dance of the night shouldn’t be with someone other than me” he had said.

And so the dance begun, garnet eyes staring down at you in a mixture of disdain and inquisitiveness. Your fingers held his firmly, eyes stabbing right through his irises refusing to let him intimidate you even when his tall figure and broad shoulders towered over you, looking like a predator waiting for the right moment to attack. The music drowned out the malicious whispers and the clinks of alcohol filled glassware, Lucifer’s grip keeping your mind rooted on him. No Demon Prince eagerly studying you both from the other side of the room, no jealous stares from the remaining six rulers of the underworld.

As your steps became more decisive, you and the older of the brothers started being more aggressive, wider steps, swaying across the ballroom in a dance that almost seemed like a battle. It was only Lucifer left, you had secured a pact with all of his brothers and still the prideful demon refused to kneel for you. Still he held onto that spark of rivalry. Still his scarlet red eyes burned over you in a persistent defiance. You may have bewitched his brothers with that charm of yours, but you were not having it your way with him.

Or were you?

Lucifer twirled you effortlessly, admiring the fluidity of your movements. The confidence and resilience flickering in your gaze that threatened to burn him alive like hellfire if he didn’t struck that last deal with you. The simple human warmth of your grasp in his shoulder reminding him of just how ravishing your character was. Just a human, the people he had always deemed fragile and small, but then there you were, proving him wrong and opposing him once again with an intensity that almost bordered on insolence. It was disrespectful and daring, but oh so endearing to him. So much so that he almost found himself leaning even closer to your body after each twirl, pulling from your waist just a little bit more through the step sequence. Just a small hint of desire in the way his touch felt through the fabric.

The pretentious flock of nobles had retreaded to the sidelines in order to give you and Lucifer more room, to the point where your shoes slightly reverberated against the polished ceramic and granted percussion to the melody guiding your bodies. The grip of the demon becoming stronger, almost possessive. His stern frown had faded away, now a small hint of an amused smirk tugged from the corner of his lips. An irrefutable connection lingered in the now scarce space between you and him, a tension so insistent you could almost grasp it with your fingertips. A longing for his closeness now that you were in his arms, in his firm chest, surrounded by the aroma of his fine cologne.

“If I were to agree to your request…” his words immediately prompted the intensity in your stare to grow, an unusual glint shone in his “I will not belong to you, you will belong to me. Do you understand?”

As the music faded and your dance slowed down more and more, your heartbeat became faster, blood pumping through your body in a rush of adrenaline.

“I understand” you spoke with eagerness, no hesitation, not even a blink.

“Very well” he stopped, the ballroom that at a certain point had felt empty suddenly got crowded as the satin-cladded bodies of demons flooded the dance floor. Lucifer licked his lips slightly before giving you a crooked smirk, white teeth almost making fun of you “then look for me in my study when the party’s over.”

Then his hands slid away from you, his frame slithering in between the guests until he was nowhere to be seen. Loud beating in your ears in excitement brought a smile upon your lips.

Somewhere in between the next few hours you’d have Lucifer’s pact mark engraved in your skin, he would own you. Or so his lips had said. His fascinated eyes had told a different story though.

“Clueless Lucifer Morningstar… I already own you.”

[spiderlily-w1tch-blog]

𝙼𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚕(𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙰𝚛𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚊) - 𝚁𝚘𝚢𝚊𝚕𝚝𝚢/𝙼𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗 𝙷𝚎𝚒𝚛

𝕎𝕀𝕊ℙ𝕊𝕀𝕄ℙ𝕊

— — —

Ft Royal Doctor!Julian, Spectator!(Vizier!)Asra + nondescript Castle Staff; ft breeding, belly bulge, mentions of cunnilingus, creampie

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: I do not own The Arcana or its characters, all credit goes to its creators and actors

WC: 3,199

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: Includes mentions of Age Gap(5 years) and Arranged Marriage, no use of Y/n, 1st Person POV, obligatory exhibitionism/public sex warning (Series Warning)

����𝖎𝖓𝖎 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: Muriel can finally be the King he truly is 😌 Asra is either his Royal Magician or just his favorite Noble, I’ll decide in the car I decided. He’s the Royal Vizier(who also kind of doubles as the Royal Magician bc bby is a magickal boi)(yes i know i sound pretentious with that spelling but like,,,, just go with it)

【Ｍａｓｔｅｒｌｉｓｔ】

— — —

I happily kiss my husband as he slides his hands up my back, pulling me flush against his chest. He had woken me this morning with sweet kisses down my shoulder and arm, stroking lightly over my hip. He had told me that today is the day and I could hardly contain my joy.

Today is the day that the Vizier arrived back from his travels which means that today is the day we may make an heir for our kingdom. My husband and I have wanted children for years now but due to tradition, we had to wait until I, the Queen, would reach my 25th year. I am now entering my 26th year as we had to wait for the Royal Vizier to arrive to oversee the creation of the future Heir.

But he’s back now, which means that Muriel and I can make our dream of having a child come true. While this isn’t the first time we’ve copulated, this is the first time we’ll be able to reap the benefits. As is tradition, we’re presenting in the throne room. Muriel’s ancestors believed it to be symbolic, and mine believed it to be good luck.

Our marriage was initially arranged for peace and unity, we fell in love long before we married. As the sole heirs to each of our Kingdoms, we had been betrothed since we were young. We didn’t get along at first when we first met as children, but after a time apart, we met again as adolescents in my 14th year and his 19th and our love blossomed.

It all came to ahead to where we are now. Sitting in my lovely husband’s lap, nude as the day I was born, with his hands running up and down my skin as we prepare to finally create the child we have so wanted. His hands find their home on my hips and he presses a sweet kiss to my lips in preparation.

“I’m sure you two will make a lovely heir, Your Majesties.” Asra, our Vizier speaks in his usual, naturally teasing tone, though we know he’s sincere. I smile into the kiss and release a breathy chuckle when I hear the door open and the attempt to shut it quietly. Muriel playfully growls against my lips before pulling away, though he kept his gaze on me.

“You’re late.” He states firmly to the Doctor who has just arrived.

“Well, technically, if you think about it, I’m actually early. You’ll really just need my presence in 9 months, Mu- My Lord.” Julian’s voice cuts through the air and makes me laugh at the man’s antics, leaning my head into my husband’s shoulder.

“You’re lucky my wife likes you, fool.” My husband growls out. Everyone in the room knew it was laced with empty threats and false bravado and he actually quite doesn’t mind the doctor but no one points it out. I am perfectly content to only focus on the way my husband’s large firm body is pressed against mine, how his big hands fit so perfectly around my waist, how big his heavy cock feels against my inner thigh.

Finally, we could progress further than simple grinding and get to the main event. I slide my womanhood over Muriel’s dick a few more times to lubricate it enough. Once he had deemed it slick enough, my loving husband tightens his hold on my waist and lifts me up just enough to allow me to reach down and position his massive cock at my entrance. Even with my added lubrication and how much he had stretched me open with his delightfully thick fingers, the stretch of his cock head entering me burns deep in my core. After all the years that we have been married and had sex, granted many of those times were simply fucking my thighs or Muriel staying between my legs for hours on end, his size still managed to prove difficult to take unless we go slowly. Over the years, when we did have sex, I learned to not only get used to the burn of the stretch but quite enjoy it as well.

My husband and I share a sigh of relief when his tip pushes past my tight muscles, the rest will be relatively ‘smooth sailing’, as Portia, our resident Overseas Trader would put it. I slowly slide down on his length, with his help, and pant when I finally reached the base. My love holds me gently to his chest to let me rest for a moment, to get used to his size once more.

We hadn’t been able to have full intercourse in the last many months as it was worried that with this day coming upon us, we would get too excited and forgo tradition, if only by a few months. They were even worried enough to advise us to not even simulate the act, the Elders’ way of telling us that Muriel couldn’t even fuck my thighs as of recently. Luckily, we remained far from abstinent in the time approaching this glorious day, needing to release the pressure building up before we’d spontaneously combust. Muriel maintained his favorite position— aside from being buried inside me— with his face buried between my thighs for as long as he was able. He hardly allowed me to return the favor but I still managed to pleasure my husband any way he would let me.

And that finally brings us to today. The day we’ve been yearning for for years. The sting of the stretch hasn’t fully passed but I couldn’t bring myself to give a damn, I need Muriel to fill me over and over again until he stuffs me full of his cum and breeds me with his child, his heir. More than anything I want to be full and pregnant with my loving husband’s progeny. I truly love my husband more than anything in the world and to carry his child is my greatest wish, the greatest honour I could have.

Lifting my hips, I shiver at the feeling of his thick cock dragging against my inner walls. Without much patience, with help from my husband’s big, rough hands on my hips adding to the momentum, I let my hips fall back into his lap, burying his cock inside me once again. A pleasured gasp slips past my lips and my eyelids flutter shut. Unable to resist my yearning for more, I use my hands perched on his shoulders to lift myself up again and quickly let myself fall back down. The pleasure began building quickly, especially after I haven’t had his cock inside me for so many months for that stupid “precaution” and I quickly feel myself becoming addicted all over again. Addicted to the feeling of being filled so wonderfully by my husband’s spectacularly large cock.

I set a steady pace and easily rise and fall on his length, relishing in the feeling. I look down and see the familiar bulge he creates in my belly every time he fills me. The sight has me moaning more and encouraging a faster pace. My loving husband reaches a hand up from my hip— his other one slightly tightening its grip so as to compensate for the sudden lack of support— and lifts my chin to look at him. He looks at me with eyes filled with love and lust and a deep wanting greed that sends shocks of pleasure down my spine and adds to the pleasure of him filling my cunt.

I vaguely recognise the sound of a short groan from the doors that Julian had previously made his grand entrance from. Without looking, I figure that it’s the maids and other servants milling about that decided to peek into the throne room. I couldn’t care less at this moment, however, as I’m only focussed on savoring the feeling of my King, my Husband inside me. In fact, let them watch. Let them witness the true union of their King and Queen. Finally conceiving an heir. Their future Prince or Princess. We are not malevolent rulers, let them indulge in the honour of witnessing the next King or Queen’s conception.

From behind me, I can hear Asra discussing with Julian. Plans for how to accommodate my pregnancy, most likely, or plans for the birth. I must still attend to my duties as Queen, even if I am with child, at least until the last month or so until I am to give birth. How we shall handle public appearances once my belly begins to swell with proof of my Husband’s seed entering my womb and fulfilling the wish we have waited for since before we were wed. The thought invigorates me and urges me forward on my conquest to receive my Husband’s love. Previously I had been attempting to hold in my more undignified moans and noises but I can’t help it any longer.

Looking into Muriel’s eyes, I am pushed to release a loud, drawn-out moan that I previously had only saved for the privacy of our bed chambers. When he has my legs pinned to my chest as he thrusts wildly into my heat. The noise seems to have an effect on him as his hold tightens into a bruising grip that suddenly makes me dissatisfied that I only wear gowns that cover all of me and I cannot display the marks he leaves on my skin— visible proof of his love that he leaves each time we have such delightful coitus.

“Please, my love— do not hold your beautiful sounds inside. I want to hear you, hear how good my cock is making you feel.” My Husband’s deep, growling voice speaks to me, encouraging me further to my release. Instantly, I comply, moans and an assortment of other sensual and sultry noises flow from my lips. Muriel’s hands on my hips add more force to the thrusts downward and it quickly sends me spiraling into my orgasm. With a loud cry, my walls clench around him and slick gushes into his nude lap, coating his thick thighs with my ecstasy. A muttered curse mixed with a pleasant growl leaves my lover and it sends shocks of pleasure through me, further enhancing my pleasure.

My walls clench around his member, making every vein and small detail more prominent against my sensitive cunt. Muriel lets his head fall back against his throne with a ‘thunk’ with a deep, appreciative groan. The sound of the servants at the door murmuring in surprise and excitement snaps me out of my ecstasy-induced daze and I would be annoyed if it didn’t remind me that my husband still hasn’t cum— hasn’t filled me with his seed. We haven’t finished yet. Silently, I halfheartedly thank them and continue my rhythm of lifting my hips with his assistance. My orgasm made me sensitive so each drag of his thick cock against my walls is like agonizing ecstasy, pushing me towards another orgasm already. My husband’s stomach muscles tense and release rhythmically and his groans become more frequent and more strained and rushed, an indicator I’ve become quite familiar with that he’s approaching his end as well.

“Fuck- My Love- My Queen- So good. So fucking good. Perfect! So perfect around me! Oh, Ancients- keep clenching around me like that.” He begins to ramble, another indicator that had quickly become my favorite since I first heard it those years ago on the night of our wedding. That night we spent hours consummating our marriage. Likely we will be replicating that night once we get back to our bed chambers. And I can’t wait.

His cockhead kisses my cervix with each thrust like it’s trying to bully its way inside. The thought actually excites me. The prospect of his cock inside my womb when he finally shoots his load has the knot in my belly pulling taut in record time. Unable to resist him, I move forward urgently and smash my lips against my husband’s. He swallows my high-pitched whines of pleasure as I take in the gorgeous baritone groans and growls from deep in his chest.

From behind me, I can vaguely hear Julian making his very Julian-like noises that I can hazily recognize that he’s taking perverse pleasure in the situation. Surprisingly enough I can’t hear Asra chastising him as he usually does. With my husband’s length still pounding my insides and his tongue invading my mouth, mapping out the territory he’s claimed again and again, I can’t get myself to care much. If I can remember anything but Muriel’s name after this, I’ll have to indulge my curiosity— though that likelihood is nearly nonexistent.

My husband’s tongue slips out of my mouth and he drags it down to my pulse point and attaches to the spot with teeth nipping at the area and his lips sealed over it to suck a dark mark into the skin, his tongue lapping at the sensitive skin. That sends me hurdling over the edge again, my legs trembling beneath me and my hips faltering in their repetitive motions, and my walls clenching and unclenching around Muriel’s cock inside me. His nails dig into my flesh the way mine do his and his teeth sink into my neck in a possessive bite as his hips jolt up to meet flush to mine. With his hips pressed up into mine and his possessive grip pushing me down to somehow bring me closer, his length fills me completely and wholly.

His tip pushes at my cervix, opening the inner hole just enough that his hot, potent seed floods directly into my womb. The feeling of warmth filling my belly as well as the sensation of being fuller than I ever have before sends my eyes rolling back into my skull; else I would have seen the large bulge in my stomach from his cock pushing in to the furthest extent and his cum bloating my womb even further. Even with his massive cock stretching my cunt as far as it could go and his tip protruding into the entrance of my womb, cum seeps out and leaks out of my slick entrance in tiny streams. With so much cum filling me, there was no way I wasn’t properly and thoroughly bred. I quiver and shake in his hold with my back straight and stiff as an arrow before I collapse bonelessly against my Husband’s strong and solid chest. His muscles remain tense for several moments as the aftershocks of his strongest orgasm yet rush through his body.

He slumps against his throne, hands relaxing against my skin— I can already feel the beautiful bruises forming and crescent indents stinging deliciously— and lazily slide over my back to loosely hold my body against his. My body rises and falls with the movements of his chest as he heaves for breath, his lips brush over my ear and give pleasurable puffs of air against my neck. His warmth— both inside and outside of my body— has me cuddling closer to him and tucking my face into his neck, appreciating the tickle of his long hair on my face and his natural musk meeting my nose.

“You did wonderfully, Majesties.” Asra’s soft voice speaks up from his place before the thrones, though it hardly registers. My husband murmurs praises to me lowly through his slow, deep inhales to get the air back into his lungs from it all being punched out by his powerful orgasm.

“You did so good, my love. So perfect for me. You’ll be the perfect mother to our little one. ‘ll look so pretty when you swell with my child. ‘ll look so perfect so full. ‘m gonna breed you again and again now that we can.” His voice is soft and grumbly with exhaustion and it fills me with another kind of ecstasy. I feel the slow drag of Muriel’s stubbly chin as he turns his face to press a kiss to where he can reach on my face. With the comfort of the warmth in my belly and my husband’s arms around me with soft words whispered into our small, shared space, I’m easily lulled into a comfortable, floaty space.

I vaguely recognize things moving around me but I cannot bring myself to return to awareness. I hear Julian’s voice as well as Asra’s and my Husband’s but I can’t make out what they’re saying. A voice calls out into the space a short order and suddenly the large doors quickly fall closed with a groan and a loud ‘thud’ echoing through the room.

“My love?” My husband’s voice brings me back and I blink the bleariness out of my eyes to see his forest green ones staring back at me with a warm mirth.

“Uh?” He smiles lightly in soft amusement and nods at the two at my back. Lazily my gaze shifts to them to see our Vizier ready with the ring in his hand to signify that the ritual has finally been completed. Shaky, my hand reaches out and he softly cushions my hand to gracefully slide the perfectly sized ring onto my left index finger. The simple jewelry fills me with comfort and accomplishment and I release a sigh I didn’t realise I was holding.

“Congratulations, My Queen. The Heir shall be good and strong like his progenitors.” He kindly smiles and his words quell my mind with a soft joy. Julian comes up once Asra steps back to give Muriel his symbol. With a rare kind smile, he leans down and gently prods my lower belly and hips with cold hands that make me jolt in my husband’s hold, his arms tightening protectively around me and as a reaction to the shifting of my body while his cock still resides heavy inside me.

“Well, if we couldn’t tell before— which we’d have to be blind and deaf not to—“ he jokes making me smirk and Muriel tighten his lips in faux annoyance though I know it‘s to stop the quirk trying to tug at his lips, “I’m more than sure that you’re to be with child very soon. Practically by the time you leave this room with how-” Quickly, Asra rushes over and tugs the back of Julian’s coat away from the thrones, effectively cutting him off with a garbled choking sound that turns into a strained laugh that sounded more like a choking cat.

Smiling contentedly, I comfortably lean my head back into my husband’s shoulder, “So,” I speak softly, catching his attention and making his beautifully dark eyes meet mine. Mischief slips into my smile and my brow quirks up as my gaze flicks to his lips for a mere moment, “Would you like to recreate our honeymoon in our chambers with our newly attained benefit?” My voice drops into a lower sultry tone. Muriel’s brows rise as his eyes darken and he quickly— though still careful of both our sensitivity— hooks his hands under my thighs and lifts me effortlessly and begins a determined trek to our chambers to keep me there for the rest of the day— and likely into tomorrow.

— — —

𝕋𝕒𝕘𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥:

@frosch-thefrog @hellsingalucard18

[idrisofficial]

Which characters/character do you feel most personally/emotionally involved with and why?

oh this is a very difficult question and i appreciate it very much. as any creator would, i’m inclined to say all of them in different ways…but that’s kind of a cop-out.

i think i’ll say brinne and lennox. they’re not the characters i relate to the most, but i do think i feel the most emotional connection towards them. a lot of what draws me to them is their silent suffering—both of them live in glass prisons of their own making. a lot of this is mental illness related, but their natural dispositions are also of great influence (although lennox’s natural disposition is extremely debatable when you consider nature vs nurture).

brinne was the first of any of my idris characters to exist, and the depth of her development definitely follows suit. her transition from a manic but deeply idealistic teenager to a reticent and self-interested monarch through the buildup of her childhood trauma and the final straw of her near death experience is so deliciously heartbreaking. her loneliness, her codependency with adrian, her sexual and alcoholic coping mechanisms, her deep uncertainty in the religion that gives meaning to her entire life…poor girl can’t catch a break. brinne has always been the focus of idris, and i’ve had fun and i’ve had pain hurting her like i do. most of the actual writing that i’ve accomplished revolves around her, and for good reason. she is at the core of the conflicts plaguing idris’s centuries-old culture and still just a twenty two year old girl who never really got to grow up. sometimes i act as though her teenage self and her adult self are two separate people, but the truth is that they are painfully intertwined. brinne’s suppression of her idealism and desire for change in service to her desperate attempts at self-preservation is what drives her motivations throughout every iteration of this story. she cannot escape who she is, try as she might. and i think there’s something so, so compelling about that for someone in a position of such horrible power like she is.

lennox is layer upon layer upon layer. the fact that he was originally inspired by byakuya togami? we’re not gonna talk about that. lennox has also come a long way as a character, the third to exist after brinne and adrian. he’s an og. lennox was a nice kid up until about age six, where the kindness was quite literally shattered in him to make room for solid perfection. a machine with style. he grew into the role almost too perfectly. the pinnacle of competence, a voice of absolute reason and logic amidst his generally wild and dysfunctional generation of nobles. here is why i feel such connection to lennox. he is ice on the outside, ice on the inside, speaks only when necessary but controls the conversation, and casually usurps the throne from time to time. he has studied these same people for sixteen years, understands most of them sickeningly well, and appears virtually flawless aside from his mansplainer bullshit. but my god is he grumpy, bitchy, flamboyant, perfectionistic to the point of petulance, and baselessly sadistic. he’s the second most powerful person in the country and he has constant migraines from dealing with others’ bullshit. he loves his siblings. he’s one of only two characters to understand his sexuality and he’s deeply afraid of it. he gets no bitches. he’s still mourning the death of the cousin whose death he was responsible for and who he was boyishly in love with. he’s sensible as all hell, but my god, he is fucking losing it. nobody gets that. even the people who hate him don’t get that. they hate him for his pretentious swag but don’t understand how much of a loser he actually is. anyways. i’m on a tangent now. he’s flawless. he’s horrible. there is no changing who he is, but would he ever have turned out like this naturally? lennox is a product of both what others have made him into and what he has forced himself to embody. there is no lennox that isn’t a diamond formed under absolute pressure.

[tiredkershyff]

Birds of Feather

DC x TWST

Summary: Tim Drake is a trouble magnet, everyone knew it. Well, it was time for new problems!

on ao3 Chapter 1: I've been feeling lightheaded since I lost enough weight to fit back in my skin Chapter characters: Tim Drake, Grim the Greatest, Dire Crowley Warnings in tags

‎

Ah… My dear beloved,

my noble and beautiful flower of evil,

You are the fairest in the land.

──Mirror, mirror on the wall,

who is the most…

‎

Tim was a bit dizzy, thought tumbling one over each other, trying to make him come to senses. The words, those words were ringing in his head, and they were concerning. What in Snow White was this? Part of him wanted to point at the particular creep known as Ra’s Al Ghul. He would definitely call Tim ‘dearly beloved’. And ‘the flower of evil’? Another speech about ‘come to the dark side, we have cookies’? No, thank you. (God, he is really getting under my skin)

But put away such thoughts, he needed to deal with the situation on hand: WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?

Okay, he was incased in some type of box, the size is just enough to let him a little room to wiggle. It was not a wooden crate for sure, that was obvious from touching it. It was a solid hard material that definitely held some weight in it, smooth and cold to touch, so it was probably some polished stone. It was hard to say what exactly it was, Tim couldn’t see anything, but it might be marble or something similar. 

Tim pushed walls, to see which would move, and only the first one responded to his action. For now Tim decided to let it stay closed. He needed to assess the current situation, his state and equipment. It would be stupid to rush right away without giving it at least some thought, it looked like he might have some time for it. 

Although he better not to spend too much time. The front lid was heavy enough and didn’t allow any airflow if it was untouched, so the situation with oxygen was a bit difficult. Yeah, Tim could open the lid a little bit, but who knew if it would catch someone’s attention or not. So no sneaking some oxygen inside. So he had some time to think, but the time was not unlimited. 

The first question was, why was he here? The second one was where was he? And the third one when was he? His mind was so confused, so who knew for how long he was held there, plus the time-space shenanigans happen so it was always worth considering it.

So, the first one. Why? Tim could remember clatter of hooves, horses neighing, wheels creaking, rolling on the stony road. Those memories were blurry, but he was able to piece it all together. So, it was most likely some type of carriage. That was a bit of an archaic way to kidnap someone. They also keep him in a fancy box, judging by the material. Could it be the Court of Owls? Those assholes are pretentious enough to do this. But still, it was a questionable choice. 

Tim examined himself, to find more clues. The wig on his head, the heels on his feet, it already was a give-away that he was in a Caroline Hill disguise (unless they for some reason decided to dress him up like a girl). The texture of the wig was familiar enough to think it was Caroline’s, he spent a hefty amount of money on the new one, so it would look completely genuine and wouldn’t be itchy. Light touches on his face also confirmed the makeup on his face. Small prosthetic chest and hip padding were the final confirmation of his theory. (I’m glad I don’t have those big boobs like first time, those are much better)

That led him to some thoughts about other reasons on why he could be kidnapped. It was less likely that it was because he was TDW or RR. Were they targeting Caroline in particular? Or someone in the medical industry? Or were they targeting women in particular? Tim doubted someone would uncover his disguise and target him because of it. 

He also was wearing some type of long attire made out of some smooth material, cold to touch, reminding him of silk. That… led to interesting thoughts. It felt like those were some ceremony robes and he was going to be sacrificed by some cult. Probably just his paranoid mind whispering those ideas. But Tim hated how probable this scenario was. (Or maybe it’s some weird-ass ritual from Ra’s)

He didn’t have his utility belt, not like Caroline had it. He did, however, have some cards in his sleeves. Or, well, birdarang and batarangs. It was hard to actually pull them to properly touch them to understand which properties they had. He didn’t have space to put them back. So he slid just one down in his hand. It was an electric one. (Okay, that’s a good one. I wish I had my disks though)

By the look of it, he would need to adapt on the spot and use his surroundings after all. 

Now, to the where question. The probable kidnappers were: Ra’s, Owls, some weird cultists and a percentage for other people (who wanted to have fun, who targeted a specific group, who chose on random, to either kill, torture, sell and a lot of other fun activities). That was… A lot of variables to consider. 

Whatever it was, he would need to decide to be RR or CH in this situation. 

At least the assessment showed that he didn’t have a concussion or even bruises, which meant they were gentle with him. It excluded some minor options. Or, they beat him to near death and the small amount of Lazarus Waters he had kicked in. Though, it would heal only the immediate fatal injury if he was on a ley-line. And then it would have a cool-down, like it was some fucking game. So, they probably were gentle. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a commotion outside. Someone was trying to open the lid, and obviously struggled with it. So it wasn’t someone who kidnapped him, they would have a way to open it without any trouble. So it was someone unfamiliar with it, and, presumably, weak too. Did they want to help? Or cause harm? In any case, Tim gripped his birdarang a tid bit stronger.

He heard a high-pitched voice talking about people coming soon. So they were a third party. And they were talking about getting a uniform. So they presumably needed Tim’s attire. An interesting choice of voice for this cloak. 

Tim decided to open the lid. Judging by the information the person outside said, people were coming soon, and those are definitely his abductors they were talking about. Not good. But it meant right now was the prime chance for an escape, there was only one person outside currently. 

And as he did that, the person said that they were going to use their secret move. So when Tim peeked outside, he was met with a circle of blue fire. He hoped it was a trick that made it blue, because actual blue fire was the hottest. 

As Tim was readying to use his weapon, he saw who was causing all this ruckus. A cat. A goddamn flying cat. (Was it like Teekl?)

“Kyaaa! Why are you up?! And what a girl is doing here?!” It screeched, it looked scared. 

So this gives him some new information. Firstly, apparently he wasn’t supposed to be awake. If he was drugged, that meant his training helped. He wasn’t sure what made him wake up earlier if the cause was different. The second piece of information was the surprise of seeing a girl. So he was less likely to be kidnapped for appearing female. This place was not meant to be for women. If the cat needed a uniform, maybe to blend in or for other personal use in a non-female place, he could be male-presenting. 

While doing the mental gymnastics, Tim gave a quick look-over of this place, his theories about it being a cult resurfaced again. The room was dark, not fully lit. The first thing that he noticed were floating coffins with some ornaments and glowing round stones in the middle. The windows had metal ornaments in the best Gotham traditions. And the chandelier was made out of a clutter of chains with glowing purple stones. But what made his breath hitch and his body freeze was the fountain with a green liquid. It was more goo-y and paler in color, but… The place had an incredible Gotham atmosphere and they used to have some pits with Lazarus Waters. Who knew what could’ve happened with them in the shit-hole that Gotham was with her hazardous water. On top of the fountain was a floating mirror.

So it was a cult. It didn’t look like League, they would use different aesthetics. The placement of coffins indicated it was not the Court, they would do it differently. But Gotham had enough cults on its own. 

At least he knows the where question. Not fully, but even this was helpful. 

The cat was not happy with Tim ignoring Grim the Greatest. (Grim? Like Grim Reaper? Maybe he needs the uniform in hopes of getting into this cult?)

The cat also made a cute attempt to attack him, but Tim easily dodged it, ducking and making a quick escape to one of the exits he noted earlier. The creature was not fast enough to catch up to him, so Tim managed to outran him and discovered himself in the library. He perched on top of one of the bookshelves, the dark cloak worked perfectly with concealing himself in shadows. Plus, this place was poorly lit. 

“Uuugh, you, puny human! I will find you and you’re gonna regret crossing the Great Grim!” the cat exclaimed, getting all worked out. (suure)

Tim was spinning the birdarang in his hand, looking over the library, noting the path through the bookshelves and possible exits. The creature was going to set the place ablaze and Tim started thinking about giving him a mild shock, but was interrupted by the sound of a whip, hitting Grim. (Is it hypocritical of me calling it too much? I was going to electrocute him… Yeah, it’s hypocritical. Still going to call it too much and shame this guy at least in my head)

“This is not a mere rope, but the Whip of Love!” the man exclaimed. A man that looked like someone who could pass as one of the Gotham crazies. If he had a PhD then he would definitely count as their Rogue. Really, most of them had PhDs. Bruce forbade them from becoming Doctors so they wouldn’t become part of the Rouge gallery. Jokes on him, Tim already worked with Catwoman when he was a kid, and now was wanted by InterPol. Although, B didn’t appreciate Tim dropping out of the high school and refusing to go back citing the no PhD rule. 

Also. (Did he just call it the Whip of Love?! What in the name of BDSM is happening right now?!) 

“And you!” the Crow man exclaimed, looking directly at Tim, which made him instantly wary. This immediately placed this bird into a dangerous category for noticing him so easily. “Ah, one of the new students…” he said in a calmer tone.

A student. A fucking student. (THIS IS SCHOOL?!) he screamed in his mind. With that the second thought followed: (He uses this BDSM whip at school???)

So the cat meant school uniform… It was an all-boys school? There were no such schools that looked like that in Gotham. Although the cult theory still worked, some of them worked like that. People wouldn’t immediately realize it’s a cult, and they either realize it when it’s too late or they get brainwashed. Well, he will need to investigate it from the inside. The second time he did that. But… This place had a lot of floating stuff, the cat was obviously magical. And there was a big chance the school either abducted or lured people with magic, and Tim didn’t have an ounce of that. Meaning he would have to pass it on to Zatanna and would help with it in some other way.  

“I finally found you. You shouldn’t have left the Gate on your own!” the Crow furry exclaimed. The Gate… Did he mean those coffins? Why Gate though? (Gates to Hell, Gates to Heaven… Some cults love religious themes. Huh, they could actually use religious guilt and promise to ‘cure’ those kids, while binding them to their use) 

Again, those were just wild theories that always ran through his mind. Most of them were just theories passing by, with a very low chance of being true. But he was also proved multiple times that even those low probable theories were true. Also, Bernard just amplified this urge to make crazy theories at every moment. 

He will roll with the student role right now to learn as much as he could, until the matter of him having no magic will present itself. Then he would see how the situation would unfold to decide how he would have to leave.

Meanwhile the crow man started talking about his familiar breaking rules, how it was so rebellious… Nope, he’s not rolling with this one. Nuh-uh. 

This cat would ruin everything with his attitude alone. And, as Tim predicted, Grim immediately protested. Crow ignored him.

“Now, come out,” the man asked him. (I’m bi. Ah, wait, that’s not what he meant)

Tim gracefully landed in front of the staff member, removing the hood to see the reaction on him looking female-presenting. 

“A girl? What? Or..?” The Crow was confused. 

The ��or’ indicated on him thinking Tim was trans. But what way? Did they think Tim was a trans guy who either didn’t transition yet or decided to look like that for another reason? That would be progressive. Or did he think Tim was a trans girl, but because he was AMAB he was here? That would be… No. But what about intersexes? Crossdressers? Enbys? Ah, so many questions. “We will deal with it after the ceremony,” Crow shook his head. God. No, it was a 100% cult, Tim will stop thinking otherwise. He didn’t need to hurt his brain even further worrying with thoughts if it was or was not a cult. 

Although, it was in a way helpful. Who knows how they would react to him having no magic. Maybe he would cite him being a girl to dip? Part of him wanted to do a Valley Girl accent, but instead decided on a British accent, the strong one like Alfred had. He lived with that man for a few years, he even adopted a few words. Although, it wasn’t like Bruce had it. Half of his vocabulary was British words and he often slipped to that accent when he was tired or didn’t care much. Dick had it to some degree and so did Jason. Though, when tired Dick would slide into a Romani accent and Jason into the Crime Alley talk. Tim, however, would descend into a French accent in most of the cases. When he was a kid he would even use French words from time to time, the result of being raised bilingual (though, there were Korean words from time to time, but not enough to make him trilingual). It was most noticeable when he was way too dizzy, hadn’t slept for days or was under a lot of anesthesia or a lot of pain meds. Fun times. 

“I doubt I am a student here, there must be a mistake,” he started. “I don’t even remember how I got here,” he made a bait for an answer. This time the furry guy actually listened to him!

“There’s no mistake! You got here through the Gate, after all. Although, you are quite eager, aren’t you? Leaving the gate before the ceremony… Ah, the ceremony! It probably is well under the way. Let’s head to the Mirror Chamber!” The man was so full of joy. Disgusting. Tim already didn’t like the guy. 

They went to the ‘Mirror chamber’, probably that place with coffins, seeing how it had a floating mirror there. 

“This little buddy blew the lid off. And I don’t remember going through any ‘Gate’”, Tim huffed. 

“Your familiar is your responsibility,” Crow man said and Tim scoffed at it. “And any student who wishes to attend this Academy must go through the Gate’s door,” answered the furry. “Normally the students wake up only after the door is opened with a special key…” he continued. Tim decided to interrupt it. 

“Well, then why wasn't mine closed? There was no key-hole too,” Tim noted. 

“That’s weird,” the crow man frowned and said it mostly to himself.

Tim’s bird brain immediately went to playing a meme in his head. (That’s weird. That’s suspicious)

“Anyway!” energetically said the staff member. “The open ceremony is about to end. Let’s haste!” ushered the crow.

“I don’t understand where I am, or who you even are!” Tim said in a bit demanding tone. Not a loud one, more on a scolding side. Though, British itself could sound like that no matter what you say if you want to. 

"Oh my, are you still dazed? It appears that teleportation magic has left you disoriented," the bird dude, the bird fella, the guy in a mask said.

(Magic. He said the magic 'magic' word. And so I was teleported here, huh)

"Well, it's alright. It happens pretty often!" The staff member explained.

(NO IT'S NOT ALRIGHT YOU MORON)

"I shall explain everything to you. Ahh, my kindness is boundless!" The bird serenaded to himself. (Oh god, he is a broken reflection of those people on Galas, who donate money and praise themselves for it endlessly)

As they went to the courtyard, the bird man continued: “And I am Dire Crowley, the Headmage appointed by the chairman to take care of this place.” (Crowley? Could’ve figured this much. And Dire? Well, that’s certainly the way. He would fit in Gotham so well), "This is Night Raven College, the most prestigious academy of Twisted Wonderland for those who are blessed with a rare aptitude for magic," and whoo bay was it a big can of worms to open.

So he was right about magic, and about them abducting people with it. Because, yeah, magic was still rare, but they made a school for it. That was a front for a cult and didn't even try to hide it. Although, the atmosphere could be mysterious on purpose, to appease kids. Plus, none of the magic users he knew mentioned something like that. And they would, seeing how it looked so Gotham, just to tease about their gothic brand. 

And, Twisted Wonderland? What in Lewis Carrol did he mean? 

"I don't–" Tim got his confirmation. So it's better to confront that man about Tim having no magic now, instead of in the middle of the ceremony. And of course he was interrupted.

"Only those who the Dark Mirror perceives as talented in magic are admitted to the Academy. Those are summoned by Gates which could appear anywhere," the crow man kept feeding him information without any thought.

So, it could appear anywhere. Such an easy way to kidnap. Could spin the story about them being so talented, that they were the 'chosen one' to study here. And why was he transported without his equipment then? Did it just drop right where he was standing before being abducted? That could be bad. 

"Anywhere? Then why–" started Tim, only to be interrupted again. A bit more and he was going to go full on Janet Drake on him.

“An Ebony Carriage carrying a Gate should have come meet you”

(Ebony? Ebony Dark'ness Dementia…Focus!)

“I don’t recall such thing,'' managed Tim to say something. 

“Huh? Seems like you had a bit of a bad reaction to the transportation…” murmured Crowley more to himself then to him. “Anyway! Let’s go to the entrance ceremony!” (god this man is awkward…)

Grim was trying to say something, but no one cared enough to listen to him. 

When they came closer to the ‘chamber’, they heard people talking about Headmage. Huh, looks like students weren’t thinking much about him as well.

But then all looks were on him, as Crowley asked him to go to the mirror. Tim tried to argue, but Crowley really wasn’t listening. That's bad.

“Wait, a girl?”

“What girl is doing here?”

“Maybe that’s…”

“State your name” said the ominous mirror, floating on top of /not/ Lazarus Waters. Tim tried to look as confident as he could. It really was time for Janet Drake.

“Caroline Hill” he said with some dominance in his tone.

“Your real name, boy” (Aw, there goes my cover)

––––

“Wait, what?”

“So… it’s a dude?”

“For real?”

“Since when is the mirror transphobic?”

“It wasn’t before…”

After some pause Tim tsked in the manner some socialists did. Or Damian. It was bad, because explaining later why TDW was here? But it looked like there was nothing he could do, not with all those people around, who all presumably had magic. Too many and he wasn't prepared enough.

“It’s Timothy Drake-Wayne, mirror,” he said, proud of his name.

“Hmm, the shape of your soul… is tarnished and unknown to me”

(Tarnished, you say…)

.

.

.

(sounds about right)

[angy-mouse]

Chapter 8: A Brief Intermission for Panic

I decided keeping tumblr a chapter behind ao3 was more trouble than its worth

<Prev Next>

“Make a hole, people!”

If you were calmer, you would take the time to reflect on how much you appreciated Minx and her ability to send people scrambling out of her way. It was the kind of brash authority that you simply couldn’t exert as a royal- you had to keep your authority very dignified, something that was more subtle and unspoken.

However, you were not calm, and ninety-five percent of your brain was focused on not fleeing to your bedroom to hide under the covers forever.

“It’s fine- everything’s fine. It’s not like I’ve spent weeks planning this, sending out invitations to four kingdoms' nobility and dangling the promise of a possible joint heir for three princes over their heads only to possibly cancel an hour before the ceremony-”

Maids and butlers alike flattened themselves against the walls as Minx stormed past them, knowing infinitely better than to not heed her warning- especially when she was dragging you by the wrist like a naughty child.

You happened to lock eyes with Niki and knew the look on your face must be something awful: she chucked her armful of napkins at the nearest person and threw open the doors to your drawing room like there was a fire. “In, in, in,” she chirped, letting Minx stomp her way inside with you right behind before she closed the doors behind you three. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

You swore someone had your throat in a vice. Your heart was swinging a sledgehammer against your rib cage with every beat, desperate to get out. You stubbed your toe on the couch before you realized you were pacing. “H-How could I overlook this? I planned everything- I planned for everything!”

“Pumpkin forgot what a concubine is,”

“Did you notice neither Prince Corpse nor Karl’s parents were there? Because I didn’t! Because I was distracted, ogling at two of the most handsome men I’ve ever seen! I don’t ogle! An emperor doesn’t ogle!”

Minx’s voice rang through the room, barely noticed by your racing thoughts. “It’s okay, hun, just talk it out.”

“I mean, at least Dream seems to be a smarmy, pretentious sleaze, but he’s still physically attractive, I mean that was the point of not just accepting randomly, but it’s completely different when they’re standing right in front of you. Even Sapnap grew up to be a total hunk, I mean when I hugged him I thought he could snap me in half with those arms, he’s built like a brick wall, and I’m totally into that. But I can’t think of him like that, I mean we’ve taken baths together, for gods’ sake-” You saw Sapnap- present-day Sapnap- reclined in a bubbly tub, beckoning you to join him, and flung your hands to cover your face. “No, no, bad mind, stop that!”

“She’s had dirty thoughts before this, right?”

“I honestly don’t know at this point.”

You parted your fingers to glare at them, though based on the heat in your cheeks, it wasn’t at all intimidating. “Those are thoughts! These are real men, who I’m supposed to regularly have sex with- oh, god, I could get pregnant.”

“Okay, that’s enough spiraling,” Niki decided firmly, crossing the room to hold you by the shoulders. “Sweetie, take some deep breaths and listen to me, okay?”

“Okay,”

“You are the emotionally strongest woman I’ve ever met.” Her lips twitched into a faint smile as you mindlessly nodded along, accepting her words without question. “You can keep your cool while dozens of uptight nobles stupidly debate your decision, and you can look Babish in the eye with crumbs on your lips and tell him you didn’t sneak a snack. You can totally handle a few guys being flirty.”

“Yeah,” you realized with a nod, “I can handle this.”

“You are a gorgeous, sexy, full-figured woman who turns every head in the room without even trying. Those princes are in the library right now, each one praying to catch your eye.”

“I am gorgeous!”

“And if they dare try anything you don’t want, Minx will cut off their dicks.”

Minx raised the glass of brandy she’d stolen from the end table. “Hear, hear,” she chimed, downing it in one go.

“Plus, you wrote the contracts to expire in a year, so worst case scenario we have a eunuch wandering around for some months.”

“You’re right,” you breathed, slowly nodding. “You’re absolutely right. I’m in control here, it doesn’t matter how handsome or charming… kind… did you see the flower crown Karl made me? O-Or the ring from Corpse? Sapnap brought me-”

Niki snapped her fingers in front of your nose like you were a puppy for her to train. “Focus.”

“Right, right, focus. Calm, cool, collected, confident.” You took a few deep breaths, squaring your shoulders and fixing your posture. You set your features as pleasant, but stern, and tried to embody your mental image of a glorious emperor.

“Just like that,” Niki cheered, spinning you around by the shoulders. “Now, go get ‘em, tiger!” Her hand cracking down on your ass spurred you into action, and you strutted to the door, throwing it open with a confident flourish. Your little party’s footsteps echoed through the long hall as you walked, until you had a sudden realization and froze in place.

“Wait- Niki, you can’t spank me, I’m your emperor.”

“Just go, I have tables to set.”

“Yeah, okay,”

[auroragehenna]

No matter how much you squirm you won‘t get out ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Friendly chat

CW/TW: Posessive Whumper, fantasy whump, implied family issues, implied fantasy drugs, magic exploitation, Word count: 1'363

Electra summoned Harmonia to one of the living rooms today. Harmonia doesn’t know why; she can’t remember doing anything wrong. At least nothing Electra knows about, besides, there’s never torture in the living rooms. Still, she‘s worried as she follows the two maids through the halls. They never talk to her. Barely look at her. And when they do their gaze is full of scorn. When Harmonia arrives in the living room Electra awaits her in an armchair.

“Sit, doll.”, she orders and points to a little stool diagonal from her chair.

Harmonia gives the stool a look, a glint of disgust hushes over her face and promptly the familiar pain erupts on her torso. But she still sits down.

“How are you, my doll?”

“I am fine. Aside from you know, getting held captive and getting everything taken away from me.”

Electra gave her a cold look and watched as Harmonia twitched and clasped her hand around her shoulder where no doubt the lightning pattern grew again, cutting itself into her marble-like skin. “I would like to get to know you better, doll. So why don’t we talk while you make yourself useful, hm. I hope for your sake that you have practised as I ordered you.”

“I did, Ma’am.”

“Good. Then don’t make me ask twice.”

“Of course not, Ma’am!” Harmonia lowered her head and her gaze started to glaze over. It sickened her to the core to address the demoness like that. To obey whatever she said. To be used this way. But she figured she could mostly stay out of trouble if she went along with it. If she played her part convincingly enough she might just be able to fly under the radar and avoid becoming like the others she sometimes caught a glimpse of. Broken. It worked well so far. Mostly.

Before she could really zone out Electra snapped her fingers in front of her Angel’s face. She flinched and looked back up to her with wide eyes. “Don’t you dare try to ever.hide yourself from me, doll, do you understand!?”

“Understood, I’m sorry, Ma’am.”

Harmonia’s gaze glazed over again and soon enough her eyes started to shimmer. A few moments later brilliant tears started to trickle down her face, filling the room with dancing beams and rainbows. She picked up a vial from the floor next to her and started to carefully collect the tears in that vail.

“Tell me about your heritage.”, Electra’s voice sounded from the armchair diagonally above her.

With a deep breath, Harmonia obeyed: “I was born in Paradisio, coming from a family of low nobility. I made a mistake, messed up my future and they disowned me.

“What mistake?”

“So you know how in noble society there’s always those fancy, pretentious, parties? Yeah, whenever I could, I avoided going there. More often though I had no choice in the matter. And one of those times it happened. I was paying my duty and talking to these peacocks as one of them, a higher rank, approached me. He started harassing me, talking down to me and downright provoking me. I was tyring my best to stay calm but…- “

“You obviously failed.”

Harmonia threw a sarcastic look at the demoness, figuring that the pain was worth it. “Yes. I did. I snapped and I…poured my beverage over his wings.

For the first time in her storytelling, Harmonia gives off a hint of embarrassment.

“You did what now?! Wow. You really have no idea of respect, but nothing to worry about, I will eradicate that. It’s a miracle really that they only shamed and disowned you. Why did you stay in Paradisio?”

Harmonia tried to ignore the threat the demoness dropped so casually and focus on her answer instead. “Where else should I have gone? I don’t know anything else. Thus, I stayed and had to make a living for myself. Even if we were only lowly high-born my parents insisted on a high-standard education for me and my siblings. Thus, I had skills in multiple different branches. But even with that I couldn’t really find a place for myself. That’s how I ended up finding more…unconventional jobs. Finally, I had something I was good at! And I stayed doing that, working for a lot of different people until I ended up here.”

“So, every choice you made, led you to me. Can’t you see? It was supposed to be like this.”

“Oh, get fucked…Ma’am.” She caught another tear in the vial. “Great job Harmonia. That’s staying under the radar.”

Electra’s gaze hardened, but she knew her curse mark was already doing its job punishing her. Instead, she just bowed forward in her armchair, supporting her head in one hand. “Angels are hilarious you know. Though I have to say you aren’t the funniest one.”

“Wow.” Harmonia cocked an eyebrow. “Did you decide to change your game from threatening me to insulting me?”

“Oh no, doll, that wasn’t an insult. You may not be funny, but you’re…intriguing.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“For example, for an angel, you swear an awful lot. And you’re wings why are they brown?”

“With all due respect, Ma’am. I’ve already been disowned, shamed, and now captured, why would I still try to refrain from things like swearing? (I have no clue why her wings are brown?)”

“I suppose you’re right. Though you’d do good to remember to hold your tongue here, doll. And just so we’re also clear on that, I will not accept such behaviour as with your higher ranks. Now, the loss of your family, how did that make you feel?”

“I-It hurt of course. Still does a bit. But I’ve come to realise that I don’t want somebody as a family who would cut their loved one off that easily. I made it on my own. Somehow.“ Harmonia collected a last tear and pushed the cork onto the vail.

Well, you’d be a shitty Morningstar. But…there might be something else. Electra thought to herself. „Yes, you did. You had found a place for yourself. Somewhere where you finally…belonged. Right?“, her voice had imperceptibly gotten a luring undertone.

„I…Yes, Ma‘am.“

Electra sighs. „Doll, what did we say happens when you lie to me?“

Harmonia flinched and avoided the demoness‘ eyes until the pain of the marks forced her to look back at her. „…I never really felt like I belonged, Ma‘am. I always felt a bit…lost I suppose. Like…- “

„-Like you didn‘t have a purpose?“, Electra finished her angel‘s sentence. For the pieces finally fell into place. Harmonia just looked at her, not daring to say another word and visibly uncomfortable with the vulnerability this information caused. She sat back in her armchair and looked at Harmonia. „You had a purpose, a life ahead of you as a fair noble lady. Even if you didn’t like it, it gave you structure and identity. But then all of a sudden it got ripped away and you were left to fend for yourself. Always alone. Never right.“ She noticed her angel‘s wings lowering and had to suppress a triumphant grin. „Harmonia you don‘t have to feel like that anymore. I know all of this feels like a curse to you. And it hurts. But it only hurts because you resist. How can you be so sure that this isn‘t what you were supposed to do? We already established that every step you took brought you here, to me. And I took you in, I am giving you my time to help you learn and soon it won‘t hurt anymore. If you just comply, you will see it too. This is where you belong, this is your home.“

Harmonia didn‘t find words but the demoness didn‘t look like she expected a response. She took the vial, opened it, and pulled out a sterile syringe.

„You can go back to your quarters; it is late and you should sleep.“

„Of course, Ma‘am.“, Harmonia managed, she got up on tingling legs and hurried back to her quarters. Once there she rolled herself in front of the fireplace and fell asleep, the woman‘s words repeating in her mind.

Introduction post series! Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt, @imnotamurdereripromise

[gladiator-gladiolus]

My prejudgement of the engage cast: Solm edition

Like I said before, this is as of before I venture into chapter 4 this time, so obviously I don’t actually know ANYTHING about anyone except what I’ve accidentally absorbed through fanart. This is all purely based on their appearance and the vibe. I’ll reblog with what I actually think of them after I’ve finished the game, or have sufficient enough exposure to them

(^_−)−☆

(These are probably really harsh, I have unleashed my full prejudice)

Fogado

Sylvain and Yuri’s personality love child

manwhore (but respectfully)

Looks like he has committed numerous war crimes and does so with an irresistible smile, 10/10 would do again, 5 star review on yelp

Knows how to emotionally manipulate you

Can dance really well but won’t tell anyone

a very good leader

Charismatic as FUCK

knows his people well and they love him

has a fanclub

Is known to prank people

sexy and he knows it

I’ll either be in love with him and won’t admit it or I’ll be completely immune

Pandreo

What is going on with his hair???????

ngl im kinda into it though

Has “goes to the same hairdresser as Lorenz” syndrome

Really mean but everyone is into it

Gay but is almost homophobic about it

would kick a child and call it character building

Has another male character he is shipped with religiously

the red flag everyone ignores

obnoxious pretentious little meow meow

I’m going to absolutely adore him

pretends he knows everything but actually dropped out of school at the age of 9 months

Bunet

Chivalry isn’t dead personified

excuse me hi, yes, my name is micromanagement supreme

Probably a Nationalist

Comes across as a jock at first but is actually extremely skrunkly dunkly

His work is his life

would rather the world be shaped into a cone and everyone slide off the face then see his friends hurt

Would rather be dead than not feel useful

In a modern Au would be obsessed with guns and holding dead animals

his parents are silly :(

is trying to further his reputation for 60% of the game

accidentally adopts one of the younger characters

is actually a bit of a nobody

Timerra

If you sucked every inch of optimism out of the world and concentrated it in one place, this is what would grow legs and emerge

Social butterfly

Comes across very confident but is actually really insecure

Is an only child

Tends to avoid reality

Shockingly the most religious out of all Solm characters

either extremely childish or overly mature with responsibility issues and there’s no in between

Kins Pinkie pie

Merrin

Wears winter clothes in the height of summer and visa versa

Tell him to bring a coat and he won’t then will blame you when he gets cold

is probably a girl that I mistook for a boy

Wants you to think he shops at hot topic but can actually be seen buying neon vests in the rave shop

Goth but the heart’s not in it

“I dOnT nEEd fRieNds, tHeY diSaPoiNT mE”

Quiet and reserved

Takes a long time to think about things but when he gets back to you on that, it’s going to be the best idea you’ve had the pleasure of hearing

Has a strong sense of self worth

was abused by his dad

Seadall

no, Navarre isn’t my twin brother why would you say that?

while you were busy buying body pillows, he studied the blade

Is a martial arts genius

If you’re not talking about combat, get lost

One of the most morally grey people you’ll meet

Is a sword for higher but would probably do it for free if you said please

noble gone bankrupt

Has a cruel master he has weird sexual tension with

the one Merrin looks up to

Man of no words

a woman I’m mistaking for a man

Panette

I saved the worst for last

not the clown but the whole circus

the quiet kid (trademark)

edgelord

who am I kidding, I’m just jealous because she’s way cooler than me, I’m going to end up loving her to bits

Super slay makeup so is super slay in all aspects of life

doesn't take life too seriously

just go with the flow

Likes causing people pain

favourite film is probably final destination

likes the smell of dead bodies

in reality cares about the well-being of others too much

doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her

the most mentally stable in the entire game

has a weird obsession with marionettes

Solm will most likely be my favourite but right now I’m in denial

[m1ckeyb3rry]

STOP! YOU HAVE TUMBLR? 😭😭I love your stories so much, the amount of times I read ‘Promise’ is unbelievable. I love your writing style, it’s so beautiful. The words are creative yet they are so simple and flow so well with each other. And Y/N is always so funny, it’s never the perfect Y/N since we can see the flaws clearly within her and she understands them.

My favourite without a doubt is ‘Promise’. It’s so hard to find a character who joins the Military Police or is born a noble (plus the Eren is a bonus). Her relationship with both friends and family are important to her since in most stories it just focuses on romance. Also poor Levi. I never realised how funny of a best friend Jean would be, and I live for their friendship. I swear my sister is so bored and tired of my ranting about this story. When I read ‘Swear’ I could tell the difference but also the similarities, both were so fun to read. I’m excited to see what happens next with Swear if you continue to write it.

Endure…. That had me bawling. It was so heartbreaking yet sweet. She went through so much shit and managed to pull herself together even when the man she loved was destroying everything. And the fact she moved on was so sweet yet sad, she loved Eren but Armin and was so torned between them. And the cabin scene with the little waltz that she taught him a long time ago gave me tears. You know how to make me cry, I also cried in the last chapter of Promise when she dies and they meet again in another life. I swear most Y/Ns always live up to the end, the plot armour is so strong.

I recently started SITH and the Colt love ❤,but I’m also suffering from second lead syndrome cuz he is so sweet. But I am also curious what will happen to the Jeagerist Ackerman Y/N? I’ve never seen a type like that before and I’m so curious to know what happened next. I’m dying of my impatience to see her arc and story and I think I will most likely cry in it.

Sorry for the little rambling but you are my favourite author since your stories fit it so well and the characters are never ooc.

YESS I DO HAVE TUMBLR!!! I’m trying to be more active on here nowadays :) and thank you so much I’m so glad you like my writing!! I really try to balance being creative and having “poetic” writing with being easily understandable and not overly pretentious. I also don’t like reading perfect characters so i always try to write Y/N characters that have flaws and act at least SOMEWHAT realistically.

I’ll respond to everything else under the cut because I don’t want to take up too much space on the dash lol

I think promise is one of the only stories where Y/N is an MP!! I’m sure there’s others but definitely not many hahaha. To me when it’s just romance it makes the plot and experience of reading the story almost boring?? It definitely makes writing it boring so I usually focus on platonic and familial relationships as well as romantic ones ofc. JEAN IN PROMISE IS SO FUNNY i actually love him so much in all of my stories but especially that one…he’s just so good as a best friend character honestly. And noooo not your sister LMAOO I get it though I always make my best friend (the inspiration behind Tullia) listen to all of my story ideas and she’s definitely so done with it by now. If you ever want to rant about anything my inbox is always open!! You can send an ask or just dm

Honestly endure feels like a fever dream at this point I’m not sure why i just feel like a completely different person wrote it if that makes sense?? I’m not huge in the AOT fandom anymore so maybe that’s why 🤔 regardless endure always feels like home in a way because it’s my longest story and the one that most people have read so it’s just super important to me…kind of like a childhood room HAHAHA and yeah Y/N characters usually have massive plot armor but you’ll never catch me slipping like that 💪🏻

SitH was meant to be a Colt fic but at this point it’s a Y/N fic 😭 jkjkjk it’s still a Colt fic ofc but the romance is so not focused on we’re like 130k words in and they haven’t even kissed or anything — it’s more plot and character driven. I’m not sure how far into it you are so I don’t want to spoil or anything but SitH Y/N is probably my favorite Y/N I’ve written because she’s super unique and the story really leans heavily into some aspects of her character and trauma that a lot of fics don’t usually touch on. I definitely feel you about the second lead syndrome though I feel like it’s so easy to get with SitH because Friedrich is so bf material (idk if you’ve gotten to Hadrian yet but he also has very much second lead syndrome vibes although his situation is kind of different because he’s not exactly a second lead??? But he is??? But he isn’t??? I can’t explain it I’m sure you’ll know what I mean if you’ve gotten there already)

Unfortunately swear and hostis humani generis (the Jaegerist ackerman Y/N fic) were victims of the great m1ckeyb3rry cleanse and I don’t really anticipate finishing them 😭 I did have their endings planned out though so if you really want I can give you the sparknotes versions :) rest assured though both endings were very sad as is expected from me by now

I LOVE RAMBLING NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR IT!!! Long asks are literally my favorite thing ever I love reading and responding to them. Ramble as much as you like!! Also I’m super flattered to be your favorite author and it’s so nice to hear that you think my characters aren’t ooc because i’m always paranoid that they are. Thank you sm for reading and leaving an ask. UNRELATED BUT I SAW YOUR ART ON YOUR TUMBLR ACCOUNT IT’S SO BEAUTIFUL I’M JEALOUS

[dfroza]

“Remember His call, and live by the royal law found in Scripture: love others as you love yourself.”

Today’s reading of the Scriptures from the New Testament is the 2nd chapter of the letter of James:

My brothers and sisters, I know you’ve heard this before, but stop playing favorites! Do not try to blend the genuine faith of our glorious Lord Jesus, the Anointed One, with your silly pretentiousness. If an affluent gentleman enters your gathering wearing the finest clothes and priceless jewelry, don’t trip over each other trying to welcome him. And if a penniless bum crawls in with his shabby clothes and a stench fills the room, don’t look away or pretend you didn’t notice—offer him a seat up front, next to you. If you tell the wealthy man, “Come sit by me; there’s plenty of room,” but tell the vagrant, “Oh, these seats are saved. Go over there,” then you’ll be judging God’s children out of evil motives.

My dear brothers and sisters, listen: God has picked the poor of this world to become unfathomably rich in faith and ultimately to inherit the Kingdom, which He has pledged to those who love Him. By favoring the rich, you have mocked the poor. And, correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t it the rich who step on you while climbing the ladder of success? And isn’t it the rich who take advantage of you and drag you into court? Aren’t they the ones mocking the noble name of our God, the One calling us?

Remember His call, and live by the royal law found in Scripture: love others as you love yourself. You’ll be doing very well if you can get this down. But if you show favoritism—paying attention to those who can help you in some way, while ignoring those who seem to need all the help—you’ll be sinning and condemned by the law. For if a person could keep all of the laws and yet break just one; it would be like breaking them all. The same God who said, “Do not commit adultery,” also says, “Do not murder.” If you break either of these commands, you’re a lawbreaker, no matter how you look at it. So live your life in such a way that acknowledges that one day you will be judged. But the law that judges also gives freedom, although you can’t expect to be shown mercy if you refuse to show mercy. But hear this: mercy always wins against judgment! Thank God!

Brothers and sisters, it doesn’t make any sense to say you have faith and act in a way that denies that faith. Mere talk never gets you very far, and a commitment to Jesus only in words will not save you. It would be like seeing a brother or sister without any clothes out in the cold and begging for food, and saying, “Shalom, friend, you should get inside where it’s warm and eat something,” but doing nothing about his needs—leaving him cold and alone on the street. What good would your words alone do? The same is true with faith. Without actions, faith is useless. By itself, it’s as good as dead. I know what you’re thinking: “OK, you have faith. And I have actions. Now let’s see your faith without works, and I’ll show you a faith that works.”

Do you think that just believing there’s one God is going to get you anywhere? The demons believe that, too, and it terrifies them! The fact is, faith has to show itself through works performed in faith. If you don’t recognize that, then you’re an empty soul. Wasn’t our father Abraham made right with God by laying his son Isaac on the altar? The faith in his heart was made known in his behavior. In fact, his commitment was perfected by his obedience. That’s what Scripture means when it says, “Abraham entrusted himself to God, and God credited him with righteousness.” And living a faithful life earned Abraham the title of “God’s friend.” Just like our father in the faith, we are made right with God through good works, not simply by what we believe or think. Even Rahab the prostitute was made right with God by hiding the spies and aiding in their escape. Removing action from faith is like removing breath from a body. All you have left is a corpse.

The Letter of James, Chapter 2 (The Voice)

A set of notes from The Voice translation:

We are often mesmerized by the rich, powerful, and beautiful people of the world. We dream of associating with them; but when we focus our attention on the fashionable people of this world, it is often at the expense of those who need it the most.

Ignoring the needy and favoring the wealthy is completely contrary to the example Jesus modeled for us while walking on earth. God often chooses those who are the poorest materially to be the richest spiritually. We should welcome everyone equally into God’s kingdom, even if it means upsetting boundaries like class and race. The rule is simple: we should treat others in the same way we want to be treated. God does not play favorites, and neither should we.

•

James’ focus on works is frequently cited as a contradiction to other messages in the Bible. On the one hand, it appears James is saying that salvation is achieved by works; on the other, writers such as Paul emphasize that salvation comes by faith alone, not works of the law (Galatians 2).

Look carefully and you’ll see that Paul and James are talking about different issues. Paul is in the middle of a debate with Jewish Christians over whether Gentiles must live like Jews to enter the family of faith. He says that no one is made right with God by performing the works of the law. Instead, all people are made right by faith, thanks to God’s grace. For James the situation is entirely different. The works he is talking about refer to God’s people helping the poor, not whether non-Jews must live like Jews. He’s concerned about a shallow, insincere, and hypocritical faith.

Paul describes the root of salvation; a person is saved by God’s grace received through faith. James is explaining the fruit of salvation; saving faith is a faith that works.

Today’s paired chapter of the Testaments is the 30th chapter of the book of Ezekiel:

The word of the Eternal came to me with a lament for Egypt.

Eternal One: Son of man, speak! Tell them this is what the Eternal Lord has to say:

Weep and wail,

for today is the day you’ve dreaded;

The day of God’s judgment is near;

the day of the Eternal is closing in!

It is a day of dark clouds and gloom

that foreshadows the doom of the nations.

A sword will come against Egypt,

agony will invade Ethiopia,

When the dead cover the land of Egypt,

when her wealth is taken away and her foundations are leveled.

Every nation in league with her will be destroyed in the war: Ethiopia, Put, Lud, all of Arabia, and Libya.

Egypt’s friends will crumble

along with her arrogance, her proud strength.

From Migdol to Aswan,

they will fall by the sword.

Egypt will be laid waste, a tragedy among tragedies, the most devastating of devastations! Her cities will lie in ruins, surrounded by the empty desolation of other ruined cities. Then they will all know that I am the Eternal One after I burn down Egypt and demolish her allies. On that day of destruction, I will dispatch messengers in ships to wake up the sleeping nation of Ethiopia. They will drown in agony when they hear the news of Egypt’s doom! They will know, “We’re next! Judgment is on the horizon!”

This is what the Eternal Lord has to say:

Eternal One: I will put an end to the wealth and population of Egypt

using the power of Nebuchadnezzar as My weapon.

I will dispatch the king of Babylon and his armies—

the most ruthless in the world—

to ravage the land!

They will unsheathe their swords against Egypt

and fill the land with the slain.

I will dry up the waterways of the Nile

and sell the land to those who have evil designs.

I, the Eternal, promise to recruit foreigners

to destroy the land and plunder away everything of value.

I, the Eternal Lord, have this to say:

I will demolish the breathless idols

and destroy the vulgar images in Memphis.

There won’t be a prince left in all the land of Egypt anymore;

I will infect the entire nation with a plague of fear!

I will crush Pathros in the south, set fire to Zoan in the delta,

and deliver a horrific punishment to Thebes and all its temples.

I will drown Sin—the great fortress of Egypt—in My wrath

and put an end to the wealth and population of Thebes.

I will set fire to all of Egypt!

Sin will writhe in pain.

Thebes will be torn apart;

day after day Memphis will live in fear.

The young soldiers of Heliopolis and Pi-beseth will die in the battle;

the women will go into captivity.

An unnatural darkness will cover Tehaphnehes

when I destroy the dominion of Egypt.

I will put an end to her arrogance, her proud strength!

Dark clouds will veil her,

and her daughters will be led away as slaves.

This is how I will deliver My punishing judgments against Egypt;

then they will know that I am the Eternal One.

During the eleventh year, on the seventh day of the first month, the word of the Eternal came to me with a message about Egypt:

Eternal One: Son of man, I’ve broken the arm of the Pharaoh, king of Egypt. Look! The bone has not yet been set, and his arm has not been splinted in order to promote healing. Therefore, he won’t be able to handle a sword to defend the nation’s power. So this is what I, the Eternal Lord, have to say: Look! I oppose Pharaoh, king of Egypt. I will break both arms—the strong one and the already-broken one. I’ll make sure he’ll not be able to handle a sword! I will scatter the Egyptians to the wind—dividing them among the nations. Meanwhile I will strengthen the arms of Babylon’s king, and I will place My sword in his hand. But I will break Pharaoh’s arms, and the king of Egypt will groan with the pain of his injury before Nebuchadnezzar. So I will make the arms of Babylon’s king strong, even as the arms of Pharaoh grow weak and fall limp at his side. Then Egypt will know that I am the Eternal One—when I place My sword in the hands of the Babylonian king and he wields it against the land of Egypt. When I scatter the Egyptians to the wind and divide them among the nations, they will know that I am the Eternal One.

The Book of Ezekiel, Chapter 30 (The Voice)

A link to my personal reading of the Scriptures for Sunday, november 26 of 2023 with a paired chapter from each Testament of the Bible along with Today’s Proverbs and Psalms

A post by John Parsons about being a child:

"Because you are his children, God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying, "Abba! Father!" (Gal. 4:6). Note here the Spirit does not cry out using “esoteric” or magical names for God, nor does the Spirit refer to one of God's many titles based on the divine attributes, but instead uses a term of intimacy and profound trust. After all, the word "abba" (אַבָּא) is not so much a name for God as it is a claim about who you are -- it is a confession that you belong to the Lord as his beloved child...

Throughout his ministry Yeshua referred to the LORD simply as his "Father," though he used the intensive address "Abba, Father" (Ἀββᾶ, ὁ πατήρ) just before his arrest and crucifixion, that is, during his intercession at Gethsamane (גַּת שְׁמָנִים), near the olive oil press on the Mount of Olives where the anointing oil for the Temple (שֶׁמֶן הַמִּשְׁחָה) was made, and therefore he called upon “Abba, Father” while in deep suffering and tribulation of heart (Mark 14:36). “Take this cup away from me. Yet not what I will, but what you will..." The mixed dialect of Hebrew and Greek here (i.e., Ἀββᾶ, ὁ πατήρ) may indicate identification with both the Jewish people and the Gentiles who would be united in his passion, as it says, shalom shalom la'rachok vela'karov: "Peace, peace, to him who is far off and to him who is near," says the LORD; "and I will heal him" (Isa. 57:19, Eph. 2:15).

Knowing God as your "father" is an intimate matter of the heart, an inner cry or groan coming from the miracle of spiritual rebirth. "The Spirit himself bears witness to our spirit that we are God's children" (Rom. 8:16). Amen, and Shabbat Shalom chaverim...

[ Hebrew for Christians ]

========

Isaiah 12:2 Hebrew:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa12-2-jjp.mp3

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa12-2-song.mp3

Hebrew page:

https://hebrew4christians.com/Blessings/Blessing_Cards/isa12-2-lesson.pdf

PS> His Name is also Yeshua (יֵשׁוּעַ),

the Name above all names (השם מעל הכל),

the Wonderful One (המופלא),

Sar Shalom (שַׂר־שָׁלוֹם), etc. (Phil. 2:11).

11.24.23 • Facebook

from yesterday’s email by Israel 365:

The answer is that God would find another way for his promises to be fulfilled. God does not stand in the way of our freedom to choose on an individual basis. If a given Jew chooses to leave the land and not participate in the fulfillment of Biblical prophecy, God will not stop him. Think of God as a master chess player. He will undoubtedly win the game. But which exact moves He makes along the way will be a response to our choices. He will find a way to maneuver the situation so that His will is done, despite our choices.

•

The lesson for us is powerful. As people of Biblical faith, we know that God’s plan for the world will be fulfilled. We can choose to help bring that plan to fruition or to sit on the sidelines and watch someone else make it happen. The partnership between God and those who serve Him calls upon us to be active participants, aligning ourselves with God’s promises and thus meriting to play a part in their fulfillment.

Today’s message (Days of Praise) from the Institute for Creation Research

November 26, 2023

The Meaning of "Day"

“And God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And the evening and the morning were the first day.” (Genesis 1:5)

Many people today, professing to believe the Bible, have compromised with the evolutionary philosophy that dominates our society by accepting its framework of geological ages. This system interprets the rocks and fossils in terms of a supposed 4.6-billion-year history of the earth and life culminating in the evolution of early humans perhaps a million years ago. In order to justify this compromise, they usually say that the “days” of creation really correspond to the geological ages, arguing that the Hebrew word for “day” (yom) does not have to mean a literal solar day.

Oh, yes, it does—at least in Genesis 1! God, knowing that the pagan philosophers of antiquity would soon try to distort His record of creation into long ages of pantheistic evolution (as in the Babylonian, Egyptian, Greek, and other such ancient cosmogonies), was careful to define His terms! “God called the light Day,” and that was the first day with its evening and morning. All subsequent days have followed the same pattern—a period of darkness (night), then a period of light (day).

One may quibble about the exact length of the day if he insists (e.g., equatorial days versus polar days), but there is no way this definition can accommodate a geological age. This is the very first reference to “day” (or yom) in the Bible, and this is given as an actual statement of the meaning of the word.

This ought to settle the question for anyone who really believes the Bible. One may decide to believe the evolutionary geologists if he wishes instead of God, but he should at least let God speak for Himself. God says the days of creation were literal days, not ages. “In six days the LORD made heaven and earth” (Exodus 31:17). HMM

[chameleonsallinvermillion]

The differences in my two dogs are perfectly illustrated in their reaction to visiting The Forbidden Zone. You see, my mother was not raised to live in the countryside. She was raised to live in a very clean townhouse filled with pretentious alcoholics and this rural farming energy is something she still struggles to adjust to. A compromise has been achieved. The downstairs of this house is basically the outside. It’s indistinguishable. You can wear shoes downstairs, you can have animals downstairs, it’s just a field with a roof, it’s fine. Upstairs is a sacred space where no shoes, no dirt, no outdoor coats, no impurities of any kind may tread. The dogs, therefore, Do Not Go Upstairs. 

The upstairs is the realm of the gods. It is Mount Olympus. It is some forbidden heaven into which they must not tread but to which we often disappear, unannounced and unexplained, with only the sound of our presence to reassure them we will ever return. 

My sister, however, disapproves of The Forbidden Zone and sometimes, when she thinks she’ll get away with it, she brings a dog of her choice on what she terms “the royal tour”. The elder dog, the one who looks like she belongs embroidered as a noble hound on a medieval tapestry, is aquiver with anxiety. She knows her hubris. She is intrigued and honoured, but she fears at any moment the wrath of the gods. She awaits the lightning bolt. The younger dog, the one who looks like an illustration in a children’s book from 1932, knows no such fears. She is of the gods. She knows the rightness of her place in the holy realm. She arrives aglow with excitement, overjoyed to greet you again, thrilled by the prospect of remaining forever with you in this immortal land. 

All of which is a long-winded way of getting to the point that I’m sick in bed and my sister brought both dogs to see me today. One sat silently at my bedside gazing at me as though willing me back to health with her dark shining eyes. The other descended upon me like a blizzard, threw herself bodily at my sleeping head, and burrowed deep beneath the blankets in an effort to prevent herself being picked up and removed again. Guess which. 

[yulin-pop]

300 follower event love quote 11. “I promise I will marry you when we’re older!” with leona if that's okay?

↛ ❀ Love quotes

Leona Kingscholar

“I promise I will marry you when we’re older!”

The Afterglow Savannah has never exactly had enemies. But they did have some questionable relationships with other places.

It was best to create an alliance between Afterglow Savannah and Twilight Prairie. Afterglow Savannah undoubtedly reigned over most of the land but Twilight Prairie was smaller. But it’s military forces were just as strong, if not even stronger.

It still had many connections, therefore it was very important to try to make an ally instead of an enemy.

Leona was dragged along to attend the first meeting between the royal families. Not that he would even have anything to say, the only purpose was to sit there and begrudgingly listen in on whatever they were speaking of.

He glared across the table.

Looks like any pretentious royal family I’ve ever met.

Though he couldn’t ignore one particular figure staring over at him. He saw sparkles in their eyes with their jaw wide open, practically drooling.

Must’ve taken an interest in Falena. They’ll learn it the hard way I guess.

Leona was disinterested in the whole conversation. Not that he even got a say in the matter or how it played out. He actually payed attention to the introductions of each individual person though simply because everyone’s voices were very bold and loud. He said the obligatory responses to any questions thrown his way. He really wished he could’ve just stayed out of the meeting entirely but of course he had to be there…

It was over before he could even fall asleep (not that his brother would even allow him to) to his relief.

“Their Highness, [Name], seemed awfully fond of you Leona.” Falena commented with a lighthearted tone on the ride back to Afterglow Savannah.

Leona turned away, “Don’t even kid me with that.” Leona turned to stare out the window. His brother was always making all sorts of baseless comments that weren’t funny in the slightest.

The time arose where the Royal family of Twilight Prairie would visit his palace.

“Leona, they have a child around your age.” His father said from his doorway.

“So? What do you want me to do?” Leona responded while turned to his side, facing away from him.

“I want you to show them around. I know you’re not very social like your brother but you must do this.”

Leona grit his teeth and his tail shot up in irritation. “Fine. Just go if that’s all you need me for.”

With that, he couldn’t say he was any happier to be walking beside you. You had the same shine in your eyes as before.

“So, Leona right?” You leaned forward to take a glance at his face. Leona responded with an obligatory yeah.

“You’re the same age as me, 13, right?” You asked. He had assumed he was maybe a year older or vice versus, he nodded.

You questioned him a few basic facts about himself. The way you spoke was very much different from how most noble brats would talk. You sounded more like a downtown local.

“Leona, you don’t mind if I do this, right?” You dragged out that last word before gently grabbing onto his arm.

He flinched but inevitably never pulled away. He gave you the strangest stare which was enough to know how he felt.

“Okay okay I’m sorry. I won’t do that anymore!” You playfully said while backing away from him.

He knew your behavior was strange, he couldn’t find a word for it but he knew he didn’t like it.

You spent most of the time admiring him. Leona wasn’t very oblivious but the thought of you having feelings for him never entered his mind.

“Leona, do you know what will happen?” You asked with an indifferent attitude. He mumbled out a no.

“Yeah, I could tell you weren’t listening that first meeting. But with our ages, arranged marriage is a high possibility. I was told to make myself as presentable as possible. I know my own feelings don’t matter when it comes to family business but I dread the idea of this.” You digressed, “My family is very traditional. Since I’m not the first born, my siblings and I are being used as trading pieces. Getting married for the sake of connection… but I want to be with someone I know well. Which is why I’m saying this now. I promise I will marry you when we’re older!” You passionately said. “I think when I first saw you, I knew I would love you.”

It then became official. Fiancés but not getting married until both of you finished your education.

Leona thought about how sad it was for you. Your purpose was to be given away like a prize of some sort. His blood boiled at the thought of it happening to him.

“Leona you’re so lazy. Entertain me! Tell me a story!” You said while shaking him back and forth.

Leona groaned while politely pushing you away. “Quit nagging me.”

“Tell me a story!” You proclaimed. Leona’s ears twitched as he then laid back down with his hands behind his head.

“You want a story? Fine. Once upon a time, there was a little lion cub. The little lion cub was not the first born, which meant he would never be king… The little lion cub lazed around until a parasite came along and latched onto him. The end.” Leona smirked while eyeing up at you.

“Wow. That was a terrible story—“ You raised your fist and growled. “Wait a minute, am I supposed to be the parasite?!”

Leona managed to catch your wrist before you could knock up in the head. He pulled you down next to him.

“I don’t know, are you?”

You grit your teeth in dissatisfaction but you yanked your hand away but laid down next to him.

“I believe it’s almost time for us to graduate.” You said. “I’ve already heard you’re going to Night Raven or at least a magic academy.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t my choice though.”

“That’s sad. You’re going to be gone for… four years? Actually, knowing you… You’re gonna get held back.”

Leona clicked his tongue.

“Maybe I’ll see you in ten!”

“Ten years away from you.”

You laughed while Leona chuckled quietly. “But seriously, don’t take too long. As soon as you’re done, I need to fulfill that promise.”

[fe-fictions]

Hey ! Do you have the fic where Byleth heard what the noblewomen were saying about her, so she was obviously S A D and there was Dimitri so yeah I hope u see what I mean cuz I haven't explained it quite well ;v;

(I do have the story abt noble loser ladies tryna steal yo man ;0)

He was speaking to them, again. A hoard of noblewomen flocked around Dimitri with bright smiles pasted on their faces. They laughed at every little thing he said, humorous or not. You watched them with a frown.

It was early in the morning, so the king had barely stepped out of your quarters before he was swarmed. You thought you’d try to sleep in a little longer, but the high-pitched squawking of pretentious women made your blood boil.

So you watched from the doorway, and hoped Dimitri was turning them away. He seemed stiff, and uncomfortable...but he addressed them politely, nonetheless.

Hurt twisted in your chest, knowing there were plenty of laws in place that would allow him to take one (or several) of them as a concubine. The very thought made your heart wrench. It wasn’t a very pleasant feeling.

Dimitri wouldn’t want them, though. He assured you that his heart beat only for you, that you were everything to him, and you’d been through far too much to ever consider loving anyone else. You knew that much to be true, and so you trusted him.

It just wasn’t easy.

Your gaze jumped to the women when they shrieked a terrible fit of giggles. Your lips turned further downward. He seemed to be genuinely entertaining them.

You were drawn out of your thoughts when you realized someone was knocking on the door you were currently standing behind, and you looked up to see Annette looking at you, an understanding expression hidden behind her smile.

“Good morning, Archbishop Byleth!” She said in far too loud a voice, and you immediately felt the eyes of your husband and some of the women on you.

At least the flirting stopped.

“How do you do, Annette?” You replied as smoothly as you could. She dipped her head in a brief curtsy before pulling the door completely open.

“I am fine, thank you!” She replied cheerfully, “Would you like to come out and speak with His Majesty? I’m sure he’d love your company.”

“I guess, but…” Your gaze flitted to the envious looks of the women, “I don’t think they would.”

Dimitri’s gaze lingered on you when you followed after Annette.

You seemed a bit upset, and that concerned him. Carefully excusing himself from the now void conversation, he made his way to the bedroom.

The women seemed a touch upset that he was abandoning them, but they weren’t the one on his mind.

It took a moment for you to acknowledge him, but your expression remained as cool as ever when you did.

“Dima...I thought you had duties to attend to.”

He nodded, “I was planning to, however I ran into a few...obstructions in my path.” He replied simply. You did your best to maintain.

“Well, now that you’ve escaped, is there something you need…?” You asked softly, and he nodded again, walking towards you.

“You seem a bit off-color this morning, Byleth.” He mentioned, standing in front of you. The concern was flickering deep in those beautiful red eyes.

You sighed and shook your head, careful not to say anything about the women. After all, they were nobility. One doesn’t speak ill of the nobility.

“It’s nothing, I promise. I just...had a bad dream.”

“You were fine before I left.” He pointed out, making you shrug. “You aren’t lying to me, are you?”

“No!” You denied, the tone of your voice giving you away without even realizing it. He quirked an eyebrow, turning your nerves into indignance. “I...didn’t want to worry you with it, is all.”

“Oh, really?” He leaned closer a hand coming to trace the dip between your neck and shoulder. “Well, consider me worried. Dare I ask what this alleged nightmare was about?”

You huffed, chewing the inside of your cheek as you searched for a scapegoat. “It was just...those women. There are so many of them.” You finally said, making his brow furrow. “All swarming around you like a bunch of vultures. It was frightening.”

“Beloved...are you jealous?”

“J-jealous? Of what, those awful women? No,” You give a forced laugh, “I’d never be jealous of people like them.”

“Yet you seem distressed. Come, Byleth. Tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong, and I’m not jealous.” You fired at him, pulling away from his hand and crossing your arms over your chest. “I’m just...worried.” “Worried?” He repeated, brow furrowing. “Whatever could you be worried about?”

You heard him sigh, and felt his hands on both shoulders. Gently he turned you to face him, his gloveless hands warm against your skin.

“If you’re worried about me thinking less of you for some reason, you needn’t be.” He stated in a quiet voice, making you look up at him. “You are my one and only Beloved. No one else compares.”

“But there could always be someone who piques your interest in different ways, right? I’ve heard that’s why rulers will take many concubines, in addition to a queen...to satisfy all their desires.” You pointed out, making his fingers tense.

“Byleth…”

“I’ve learned a lot about what royalty can and cannot do, and among that are all the rules that come with choosing a concubine. A queen must hold her place politically, but you can take on as many women as you want in addition to me. I could be cast aside without another thought, and-”

Well, you hadn’t meant to say all that. The words spilled out of you without warning, blurting out all the insecurities that had been silently building up over time.

The hurt that flashed in his eyes made your mistake evident.

It wasn’t like Dimitri had done anything to foster those fears to begin with. He seemed to be talented when it came to turning those women away, yet those whispers of doubt successfully took over your mind.

Dimitri could see that, and he wouldn’t have it any longer.

“You could, but you won’t be.” He said firmly, giving your arms a squeeze. “I would never replace you, regardless of whether it was my right or not.”

He watched as your face transformed from hurt to hope. It made a small smile cross his lips, and he took your hands in his.

“You are my queen, and you alone. I don’t need another, and I never will. Any purpose for a concubine has already been fulfilled by you, Beloved.” He explained, his lips tapping your forehead. “Although I wouldn’t want one, anyway.”

“Dimitri...I-I...I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologize for. There are many rules and laws in place that are ridiculous and uncomfortable. I should be apologizing for allowing you to feel so anxious without realizing what was going on.”

You squeezed his hands. “Thank you for being patient with me. I-I do trust you. I just...need to practice.”

“I have all the patience in the world and more for you, my love. Take all the time you need to get adjusted to this life. I’ll gladly wait for you.” He smiled at you, “Now come, we’ve some matters to attend to. I would rather avoid being stopped by the…‘noble’ women, this time.”

You bit back a grin. “Don’t let them hear you say it like that. They’ll know you’re unimpressed.”

“I don’t intend to.” He replied again, escorting you down the hall alongside him. You followed with a bit of a skip in your step, practically glowing with the knowledge your husband was actually a far better man than any that came before him.

The jealous glares that burned into your back just made the realization even sweeter.

[kuronekonerochan]

Random Hanadan/BoF Shitpost

After hearing that Love in Flames of War, a republican era cdrama had Hana Yori Dango/Boys Over Flowers/ Meteor Garden/ F4 vibes... but eventually failed to deliver on that front I rambled at @dangermousie​ that, actually, we SHOULD have a Hanadan version of every genre of cdrama.

 No...wait...I’m joking...but also not. My reasoning for this is solid:

 1) No matter what you thing of Hanadan and all it’s objectively toxic and dated glory, you can’t deny it is a hallmark in the history of shoujo manga/anime/asian drama/ live action adaptation/remake pumping machine. It paved the way for all the ItaKiss, Fated to Love You, etc...and it is still to this day a nostalgia magnet for an easy cash grab with each remake (also the latest one might be the best lol).

 2) *Surrender by Cheaptricks plays in the background, talks in “there is no war in ba sing se” mode* There are no new ideas in media. Everything is a sequel, prequel, remake, reboot, retelling, soft reboot, parody, homage, the same thing over and over again but call it by another name (it’s still a rose, yeah Shakespeare, you’re a genius, congrats!).

 3) Let’s face it. Dramaland is going through the lowest of lows. Cdramas are bad and boring, Kdramas are scarce and boring and Jdramas are 10 ep cute little intros to the story you really wanna see that’s about to begin...at the end of ep10, last episode, no 2nd season. So, they might as well try Every Hanadan Set Everywhere all at Once.

 So, without further ado, introducing...every genre of Cdrama Hanadan (with crazy plot eggs for some and none for others bc I say so):

Starting with contemporary…

1)      Reverse hanadan where the fl is a rich asshole and the ml a poor little meow meow

2)      Time loop hanadan

3)      Modern Fantasy hanadan (sort of like the beginning of Bulgasal but more petty and less angsty lol)

4)      Transmigration low budget web drama romcom hanadan

5)      *barfs* modern office corporate romance hanadan

6)      *barfs again* gaming hanadan

7)      Sports hanadan (aka if HanaKimi wasn’t genderbender or cute but toxic instead)

8)      Coming of Age/ Youth to Adult Married life Hanadan 

Syke! Too late! There is already an OG classic toxic Hanadan of this Genre, it’s called Itazura na Kiss (and it’s my guilty pleasure, my personal hanadan lol)

9)      Ice sports hanadan....yesss...get gory with the bullying with ice skating blades muahahaha. The red card locks her on the ice rink and they oil the railings/plexiglass around it so she can't even climb out and she nearly freezes to death. They rope her to the back of a zamboni and drag her through the ice. While she is trapped on the ice rink, they rig a bucket of water to fall over her so she freezes faster.

Now for the period dramas…

10)   Republican Era hanadan

They could use the boat scene ending from the finale of the anime as a convenient plotpoint to escape the republican era without dying in the republican turmoil. "Oh, they just reunited dramatically on a boat post amnesia and went abroad together and missed all the political fatal shit and lived happily ever after. Their kids returned to China and lived happily under the great CCP rule (/s)!

11)   Palace hanadan

It’s hanadan meets legend of Ruyi where he is the Crown Prince but the Empress Dowager holds all the power and on some humiliation move has him take a barbarian slave as a concubine...and the red card is that it's open season on her from every noble or regular consort of his harem and his friends in the court...all is fair the only rule is she cannot be murdered, everything else is fair game. So she is beating to the brink of death, poisoned daily with agonizing pills only to be given antidotes at the last minute, drowned, flayed, etc.

12)   Wuxia hanadan. Similar. Dude is the leader of the jianghu, declares her a demon bc she offended him and has all the pretentious righteous sects go after her with agonizing Gus pushed on her body, plenty of chains, kebab her in multiple ways with stakes in torture chambers to cast out the evil.

13)   BL Wuxia hanadan. (this one is just here by popular demand. Mine. No, I will not elaborate on that).

14)   And at last…my personal favorite….drum rolls… Xianxia hanadan (here is the plot):

She spilled peach wine on his cloud robes once by accident before the Great Heaven's Ceremony so he scribed her name carelessly on the stone of the doomed as petty revenge hoping she'd get some bad karma. But at the time the Demon Overlord was fighting the Lord of Fate and the Dijun on Kunlun and as they made their final strike the demon overlord turned into a cloud of heavy miasma that swirled away swiftly for miles and landed on the stone of the doomed. Hence, for the next 10.000 years the calamities and heavenly tribulations of every god were transferred into the unlucky FL.

In the first 300 years, the gods were unsure of what was happening, but soon word spread of a small menial demigoddess who seemed to be getting an abnormal amount of calamities and trials and yet never ascended into a higher level god. But other gods were getting past their fated tribulations dates without experiencing the event itself but still ascending afterwards. Soon this bizarre phenomenon was being gossiped throughout all the heavenly realms and the gods were rushing to get their hands on every magical item capable of moving forward their tribulation dates... After all, who knew how long this free meal would last? So it follows that our female lead spent the next 10.000 overbooked from torturing calamity to the next without a break or a reward.

Our cloud cloaked protagonist came to learn of this business about 500 years into it. It was not his intention for the karmic payback to be that harsh...but then again it was his best cloud vest that the annoying, insignificant little demigoddess had ruined...and if the consequences had been that rough, who was he to question the Great Design. He soon forgot all about it, surely none of that pesky matter would come back to bother him...

10.000 later: Our fuming fl finally had enough...after experiencing every form of dismemberment as a human, for eons, though she didn't collect an ounce of heavenly grace to ascend to higher goddess....she sure damn well accumulated enough yin to form a monumental grudge...and she would use all of that energy into one single punch for a certain cloud clothed god that would send him so high the gods would finally know what lies above the heavenly realm...not that he'd get the opportunity to tell the tale.

Congrats! you made it to the end of my loooong ass ramble. 

Here’s some Ice Cream...

[cominfromtheforest]

Veil of Shadows: May I have this Dance?

Quirrel sighed into the glass, emptying out the rest of the punch. He was quite sure he had had enough for the evening. And had quite enough of the evening, too. Not that the ballroom full of drunk nobles terribly cared what he was feeling.

“Excuse me…” 

Quirrel turned to his right to see a little nervous looking royal retainer. His first feeling was confusion, before his eyes drifted up to see Ghost looming above the retainer. He waved at them.

The retainer cleared his throat; “Their grace has expressed the desire to speak with you, to give me a break. I understand that you know sign language?” 

Quirrel suspected that this retainer might be new to his job to be so nervous about talking in Ghost's stead. He assured the man about his ability to humour Ghost for a little while, before said royal sent the retainer on his merry way.

“Quirrel,” Their voice purred in his head the moment the retainer turned his back. He looked at them, once again searching for the eyes he couldn’t see. Though this time, they were wearing the veil which had an eye depicted in it. They weren’t wearing their usual robe either. Instead they had on a clearly specifically for them tailored tailcoat suit, of course in their preferred dark blue. The design looked intricate and Quirrel knew that the fabric was expensive. They looked incredible, they looked expensive, as royalty should.

“Your highness…” he bowed a little, knowing that they were surrounded by people who very much cared about how he spoke with royalty. Ghost sighed, but didn’t say anything.

“You know, I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that I can hear you loud and clear, while none of them seem to…” Quirrel muttered, his eyes scanning the room. No-one was even looking their way, despite it being Ghost who was standing next to him.

They hummed. “Do you wish you couldn’t?”

“I didn’t say that! I just… Why me?”

“I don’t know, really. I suppose you’re special,” There was a playful tone to their voice, and Quirrel let himself laugh.

Ghost was looking around the room attentively, something about their demeanour just a little more stiff than usual. Quirrel assumed it could have been their nerves, since they very rarely attended any of the Kings parties due to their health problems. Though he wasn’t sure what that meant, since every time he had seen them, they seemed just fine, and he had even heard from the retainers that Ghost was a skilled knight as well. How they were sick, not many knew, and those who did didn’t speak about it.

“You know,” Ghost turned to him, and Quirrel could hear the jewellery in their horns chime quietly, “I was so sure I saw you arrive with someone, and yet you’ve been here alone for most of the evening…”

Quirrel could feel heat rise to his face, but he pushed down whatever excuse he was going to make. “I did. I’m sure you know I’m engaged, as a good man of my age should be.” He could see his fiancé, surrounded by much younger noble women. “He doesn’t care for me much,” He whispered then, not looking at Ghost.

“That one with the ill-fitting suit?” They asked, looking at his fiancé and then back at Quirrel. “He should really find a better colour…”

He scoffed. Quirrel looked at him, humouring his audience. He could have been reciting poetry, the pretentious asshole. He really should find a better colour, too.

“So this… man, you’re engaged to, has left you alone all evening? Even though you arrived together?” Ghost sounded almost insulted, though there was something else in there too, something smug.

“Yes,” Quirrel sighed, eyes still glued to the man.

Ghost glanced at him, before they extended one of their hands towards him, catching him off guard. “Care for a dance, then? Since I assume he hasn’t given you that courtesy tonight either…”

“I… It’s not proper…”

Ghost huffed a laugh, their posture relaxing, and once again they were the only person in the room. “I dance with whomever I please, and tonight it’s you. So may I have this dance?”

Quirrel took their hand and let them lead him amidst the handful of pairs already on the floor. From the corner of his eye he could now see his fiancé looking at him, before Ghost turned him away, assuming the leading position.

He let himself relax: Ghost was a good dancer, which perhaps shouldn’t have been a surprise, considering how much their parents loved dancing. Every spin, every gentle dip went on without a hitch, and Quirrel let himself ignore everything else. He was having fun for the first time all evening. Their touch was gentle, and truly,

Getting to see the look on his fiancés face made the whole evening worth it.