#isn't it better for women to stay in the house? and shouldn't men be with their wives and children?

[worstloki]

*guy who is really passionate about advocating for a 3-day weekend at any cost voice* can we really call the nation secular if Shabbat and Lord's Day are recognised days off but Jumu'ah isn't?

[kiefbowl]

so I just made a couple posts about this post, and rereading it I am going to try to be charitable as possible to everyone involved, but the vibe of this post really bothers me. but op deleted the post so I'm blocking out all the names out of respect for that, but I want to talk about this post

I think this is a very normal ask. It's literally just "hey, what are your opinions" and I don't see why that shouldn't be welcomed in a supposed feminist space. questions drive conversation, and not everyone is of the same opinion, life experiences, or knowledge, you know?

To be charitable to the green poster, they're just answering. I do think the "is literally the most anti-punk and anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting other people" is a bit much, and I also think she's misreading the op. I read Op as asking "if you're a feminist, what are some of your general opinions on subversive make up, and here's a list of examples: goth punk emo" and green is saying "conforming to patriarchy is never punk, and make up is patriarchal."

So I think the next response from Op shows that she took it a little personal as if being called out for doing the most "anti-feminist thing you can do without genuinely hurting people," which to be fair I'd probably be a little miffed too on a first read. And I think she's trying to pull out her question a little bit more, trying to re-contextualize it so that green gets what she actually meant. But this is a casual social media site so she's being casual and social. She's saying "okay, sure, but I'm asking about make up trends that are outside of what's commercialized" but I guess the big no-no is that she said "not male fantasy." Because yes, I ultimately agree, just because it's a more subversive culture, doesn't mean it's specifically feminist, or that the trends with-in aren't dictated to some degree by male fantasy. And then of course she asks: "If a woman wants to, isn't it regressive to say she can't?" So, to be fair to Op, she never specifically asked if make-up was specifically feminist or punk. But to be fair to green, green never specifically said a woman can't wear make-up.

But this is when it goes a little sideways, because frankly neither of them were being rude-rude. But green's next response is pretty rude imo. I think the subtext is "you're a big dummy." Op is not, and Op's first ask is what actually could be a very interesting jumping off point to discuss a variety of intersecting interests for feminists. Because I'm going to be real with you, there is no "The Answer" to make-up. Just because make-up and consumerism is never specifically feminist, doesn't mean it's always specifically anti-feminist. Sub cultures like Goth can be multiple things at once - subversive, and conforming. They also don't exist solely in one way. Copse make-up isn't feminist not because it's make-up, but because it's just make-up. But, like, yeah there's an element of subversiveness within western culture. There's also an element of acceptance, as long as it stays in the agreed on designated zones. A tee-shirt can't be feminist, either. Even if the tee-shirt says something feminist-y and subversive, like idk "I hate men and I love to abort their children" or w/e. Like okay, it's just a tee-shirt. And if you didn't make it yourself, it was probably made with slave labor, anyway. So you can wear it to the feminist poetry open mic at the local coffee shop, and you can wear it to a conservative's house, and the reactions in either place don't prove much about it's effectiveness. But it is a form of self expression, it's a form of participating in our culture(s) one way or another, and women are people they do participate. They can't not. So participating with some level of intention is better than her letting life passively happen around her. It's just not one thing, which makes it interesting.

So with all that being said, I think op's response is a sassy response to feeling like they're being spoken to rudely, which I think is fair enough.

This is not fair enough, and I find it bizarre. Maybe I missed something in another comment or post, but Op didn't 1. talk down to anyone and 2. didn't insult anyone who disagreed with them. But, to be charitable to pink - I understand why some women are on edge with the proliferation of troll accounts. But my ultimate advice to any women, young or old, trying to participate in a feminist space is to know that feminism is not a "solved" thing. Women have a variety of ways to think and approach a problem, and just because two ideas are conflicting doesn't mean they can't both have some merit. And since I think Op is a genuine person, this comes across as ostracizing a woman for asking a good natured, good willed question towards feminists to incite some discussion. A thing that should be welcomed if anything.

And then this response tries to be fair to Op, but also seems completely tone deaf to what she ever said. When in any of this exchange did Op ask for validation on anything? She admitted she is in a sub culture that both men and women use make up in, didn't specify what the subculture was, and then asked "hey, what are your opinions on this situation a little outside the norm of how we normally criticism make up." Then reacted to what one person's responses were, which the first response was simply direct but the second one was dismissive and rude.

So my point is, in order to be a successful feminist, I think you need to be able to navigate conversations with women that involve thinking outside the bun without devolving into sassiness when they aren't in complete lock step with you and have a predictable amount of curiosity. Feminism is a living discipline, and this could have been a moment of a meeting of the minds and a moment of cooperation to consider multiple sides of a question. That should be the ultimate goal.

And, to circle back to complete fairness of green's first response: when women are being direct with you, and maybe even misreading you a bit, it's worth taking a beat and thinking "can I read this in a kind tone at all? and if yes I'm going to assume that was the intention" because it can help get these conversations moving in the direction of cooperation rather than fighting.

And ultimately, have fun out there :)

[multiverseofstrangeness]

King!Daemon Targaryen x Female!OC

A/N: Well first of all I hope u all had wonderful Holidays. I haven't published for a long time cuz I was busy with school. So I take place in a Christmas Challenge from Vee (@sstan-hoe) and yeah I gave my best to make outta the prompts a whole story. Excuse my English and if my smut scene isn't that good: excuse that too. Anyways: Hope u enjoy it. Have a great day/night/evening and we'll hear eachother next year! Prompts: "Such a good little pup, aren't you?"; King!Daemon; Christmas Trees and Dragons Warnings: Out of Storyline, smut (18+), kinks, harsh words, slight dark!daemon, oral receiving (p in v), NSFW, my English (I am no native so excuse my grammar) Words: 1,567

Her eyes flow over the crowd of men and women, showing their desire. Her eyes disinterested in their behavior. The warmth of the room filled her cheeks, and a smile crept along her lips as she saw her sister coming over to her. 

"You got a room?"

Her sister nodded. 

"Very good. I mean it's uncommon to stay here in a brothel, but better than sleeping on the street." 

Her hand was resting on the table, and her fingers were drumming on it. She cast her gaze around the room and noticed a man in a corner. Unlike many others in the room, he wasn't accompanied by a woman on his lap. This rarity brought a smile to her lips, and she appreciated his lack of lustful behavior.

"To your information, he is the King." 

Her sister whispered into her ear. She let the sound of it run along her tongue. A King in a brothel, what a rare sight. Her smile rose as he noticed her view and smiled back at her. Her sister interrupted her thoughts. 

"You shouldn't stare like that. Rumors say that he is a vicious and violent man. Better for you to keep away from it. Furthermore, he is the king, he has higher interests than a mercenary." 

"Since when are you a spoilsport?"

"Since I got to hear the rumors about him. Keep away from him for your own sake."

She rolled her eyes and sipped at her wine. Her sister huffed and moved away, probably on a search for a useful man for the night. She tried to look at the man again and noticed that he was gone. The corner was empty. A person appeared in front of her. It was him. Her eyes widened a little not noticeable, and she swallowed. She saw the dark in his eyes, and she knew this man had power. 

"Your majesty." 

She mumbled under her breath. His lips raised to a smile. 

"No need to be formal, My lady. May I?" 

He pointed to a seat next to her. She only nodded. Her eyes followed him as he sat down. 

"What's ur name?" 

She looked at him still with big eyes. He laughed. 

"I am sorry. I didn't expect the King to talk to me. But my name is Isabella." 

He smiled.

"A beautiful name. What are you doing here, Isabella?"

"My sister and I searched for housing for the night." 

"So u are not from here?" 

She shook her head. 

"We are from Braavos." 

"A Braavosie beauty, what a rare sight." 

She smiled lightly. 

"Thanks." 

His eyes wandered over her, and a smirk played in the corner of his lips. His eyes met hers, and it seemed like he was sure with his next sentence.

"Isabella, what do you think about a more private space? A space with less desires." 

He pronounced the word "desires" more than the others. She understood what he meant and smiled. 

"It would be me an honor, my King." 

"No formalities, as I said. Call me Daemon." 

She smiled even more as he said so. 

--

They moved to the back of the brothel where the more private rooms were. He led her inside one. The smile still on his face. He opened the door and let her move inside. The room was big and painted in one color. In the corner, there was a Christmas tree, as nearly everywhere around. The bed was big and completely red. He closed the door behind him. 

"So, my dear, tell me something about yourself except that you are beautiful." 

She turned to him, and a light blush covered her cheeks.

"Well, what should I say? I am 21 years old. I am from Braavos, and I am a mercenary." 

"U are a mercenary?"

She nods her head. His eyebrows raised in amazement. 

"What are u doing in Westeros?" 

"We had business to do." 

He laughed softly and looked at her. 

"I am a little curious: You sleep in a brothel but don't sit on the lap of a good-looking whore. Why? I mean, every whore would scratch eyes out for someone like you." 

She felt the blush return. How does this man always know how to make her blush? She was intrigued by him. His eyes wandered again along her body. As he noticed that she was watching him, he locked eyes with her again. 

"What do u think about getting to know?" 

"Highly overrated." 

He smiled and leaned a little forward, his eyes were still locked with hers. 

"U just became one of the most interesting girls I've ever met. Tell me, what do you know about dragons?" 

Her eyebrow raised.

"To be honest, not much. I mean I know that Balerion was the biggest Dragon and Vhagar was one of the big three, and she is still alive but not more." 

He smiled. 

"No worries, you will learn the rest but for the beginning, it is very good. Tell me, would u sleep with a Dragon?" 

Her eyes widened. 

"No. Definitely Not."

"And with the blood of the Dragon?" 

He leaned even more forward, their faces nearly touching. A dark smirk appeared on his lips. 

"If the blood of the Dragon is so good as they say." 

"You know what you are getting yourself into, my dear girl?"

--

She nodded. He stepped even closer. His breath hit her face. His hand cupped her cheek, and his eyes showed something like affection. His lips were close to hers. One last step and his lips laid on hers. A warm rush of feelings ran through her. His lips were soft and passionate. His hands ran through her hair, and his kiss got even more passion.

She replied to the kiss. At first, she moved her lips slightly on his as he pressed his body even closer to her she raised the passion. He pressed his body even closer to hers. A tingle ran down her spine as he moved his hands to her hips. 

He broke the kiss but stayed close to her face. With one fast movement, he pressed her against the next wall. She gasped as she felt the wall hard on her back. His eyes were darker than before the desire nearly sparkling out of them. 

"You are the most beautiful woman I ever met. May I kiss u again?"

She nodded and he kissed her again, this time with way more passion. She felt his hands all over her body. She felt his breath on her face and his lips on hers. He moved his hands further and further down till he laid one hand on her tighs. She gasped a little as she felt the little movements of his hand on her thigh. He only laughed softly and kissed her further. His lips trailed down to her neck. 

"Such a good little pup, aren't u?" 

Her heartbeat increased by his words, and her breath stuck in her throat. 

"Breath, little one." 

Her eyes closed as he started to suck on her neck. She felt his hand still on her tight. His hair lightly tickled her face, and she sighed as he hit her soft spot. 

"Oh, Daemon." 

He laughed and kissed down to her collarbone. As she lightly moaned he looked up and searched for permission to go further to bring her to her climax. She only kissed his neck as permission and he laughed again. He unzipped his trousers and ruffed her dress up around her hips. 

She was still pressed against the wall. Her breath was fast, and she felt him with her whole body. His cock was near her entrance, and he kissed her again before he moved into her. She moaned as he did so. He started to move, and his thrust only got faster. As he got faster, her moans were more and louder. The room was filled with their noises of pleasure. His thrusts were hard but exactly on point. She had her head in the space between his neck and head. He held her hair in one hand and held himself with the other at the wall. She reached her climax and screamed his name. He reached his climax too, as she reached hers.

His thrusts started to get less. His breath was fast and warm against her head. His hand in her hair started to stroke through her hair, and he whispered comforting words in her ear. The other hand on the wall comes to her hips to hold her. He left his cock inside of her. 

"You are such a good little girl. You were impressive." 

His body was hot, but his words were soft. She had her head still in his space between neck and head. 

"You would make a good wife, my dear." 

She smiled. Her breath was still fast. 

"No joke really. You know what? I want you as my personal mercenary. Stay by my side." 

She lifted her head and looked at him. 

"U sure?" 

He nodded his head. 

"Yeah totally. Stay by my side. Stay with me. My love." 

She smiled and kissed his lips. His hands moved to her cheeks, and he cupped her face in it. 

"Stay with me till the end of the line." 

One last kiss sealed his request, and she knew she would stay with him now, even if that would be a new experience. 

[lyraspace]

Here are some old sketches of my interpretations of the Bone Cousins' parents!

(Bios under cut)

Phonicible P. Bone Sr. and Lunette (née Bonebright)

Full of a slick wit and an irresistible charisma, by the end of the day you WILL want what Phonicible's selling. It's gotten him into many a shady deal and sticky situation, much to his older brother's chagrin, but most of the time he's been able to talk his way out of it, somehow. You'd think he'd have girls all over him, but surprisingly not so; Phonicible plans to use his charms to win over one girl in particular, but he has his work cut out for him so far...

Meanwhile, as Heiress to one of the richest families in town, Lunette is used to the finest of delicacies and goods; no imitations. The same goes for her choice of men; she often plays hard to get and abrasive just to get most of her suitors to back off.(Most of them are pompous losers that think women shouldn't vote anyway.) She's slightly intrigued by Phonicible's endeavors to win her over, even more so by his family's old money and illustrious status. If only he didn't dress like a carnival barker out for a quick buck. But he is respectfully persistent, she'll give him that.

Oswald "Ozzie" Bone and Garland (née Bonewort)

Strong as an ox. Gentle as a lamb. Fills a room with laughter wherever he goes. Despite being the baby of the three brothers, Ozzie is larger than life in more ways than one, being one of the few inheritors of what his family calls "The Freak Tall Gene" (Nobody knows where it comes from.) A jack of all trades, Ozzie prefers to help out where he's needed rather than stay stuck in one job forever. He'd even do it for free if it weren't for Phonicible and Silas insisting he get paid for his labor. Ozzie doesn't have many cares in life, but there's something about the girl who lives in that miserable looking run-down shack at the edge of town that he can't get out of his head. If only she saw herself the way he does…

Nowadays, Garland is pretty good at a lot of things. Cooking, sewing, gardening, you name it; you'd be hard pressed to find anyone better at it than her in Boneville. She's never one to brag, though. But once, she hardly had the self worth to think she could do anything right. She used to be a skinny, nervous girl who lived in a dump of a house with even lousier parents, before Oswald met her. She ran away to live with him and never looked back. Afterwards, she blossomed into a beautiful, bubbly person inside and out, with a smile to match.

Silas Bone and Harper (née Brookbone)

As the eldest of the Bone Brothers, Silas takes his job as head of the family very seriously, but it doesn't mean he doesn't like his fair share of fun. An avid writer, he loves documenting the history of his extraordinary family and the interesting town they call home. His books aren't the most popular, but he doesn't mind; he'd love to talk to you about them anyway, especially so with the young library assistant that's his biggest fan...

Quiet, shy, and her face always in a book, Harper isn't really the type of girl that turns any heads. To escape her mundane life as a library assistant, she absorbs herself into the hundreds of books at her disposal and loves to imagine herself as an active member of the adventure. Her favorite of which being the adventures of Big Johnson Bone and his descendants; the most interesting of them being Silas, the author. Chatting with him about his books is the most exciting part of her day...the days he visits the library, at least. Maybe if she pulled herself together and opened herself up to Silas more, he'd finally see her in a different light and make her a part of his story...

[feral-radfem]

I don't think it's helpful in this moment to no true Scotsman the screenshots. Nor do I think it goes against radical feminist principle to try to take part in raising the next generation of men to be non-misogynistic. If you think participation and activism towards radical feminism is inherently incompatible with motherhood then you are excluding most women from radical feminism. That is antithetical to the message of liberating all women, not having a child. Which is ironic, considering that most of the people that would make those comments online, don't do shit for radical feminism. The keyboard warriors of our social movement really don't need to be throwing rocks at glass houses.

I know this is going to rock a lot of y'all's worlds, but if we want men to get better the likelihood is that people with our morals are going to have to raise more men. Be more aware of what the sons we bring into this world read and watch so that they can influence the sons raised by tradwives and male supremacist.

What she needs is a community of women also dedicated to raising children well so that we can make an impactful difference. Which with the rise of voluntarily single mothers and co-parenting with their female friends this is happening. I don't see how raising children amongst your female support system with your feminist values is antithetical to feminism. I just don't. Yeah, I agree you shouldn't live with a man you're having a child with/by because they used them as a way of control women, but I say that like I say carry a knife on you. It's a precaution to protect yourself, not an inevitability, a concept I think online radical feminist spaces are having a hard time wrapping their heads around. Just having a kid by itself is not anti-feminist.

Women are going to continue having children. Either through their own choice or not, especially with the state of roe v wade, and it's our job as feminist to support women in vulnerable situations. Which motherhood inherently is. Not to ridicule and belittle a choice they can't go back and undo. What do any of you expect this woman to do? Throw her baby in the dumpster? How cruel are we going to allow treatment to living children in the name of radical feminism.

Let's be very clear here: the reason this mentality has surfaced around radfem spaces and has become so rampant isn't because the blackpilled girlies are taking over, it's because y'all have been increasingly pushing that male behavior isn't due to socialization but rather the bioessentialist reason that they're born like that. Meaning that we can never feasibly work towards correcting our misogynistic society because it's their nature. Therefore women who give birth to men are inherently birthing rapists and DV abusers when they give birth to men because y'all are so convinced it's an inherent part of their nature. Which, don't let me parse words here, is fucking stupid. It's defeatist nihilism and it ends up with you being a pessimist who can't treat people (women, girls, or boys) in a normal, rational, and humane way.

Why even try to be a feminist if you think there's no point? Why be a feminist if you only want to collaborate for liberation with women who think and act exactly like you do? Why even call yourself an activist if you aren't going to make the active effort of trying to make the world a better place for the girls who come after us? A lot of y'all's plan for feminism seems to be solely separatism then the annihilation of the human race which lacks all political feasibility and ends with y'all just being angry nobodies on the internet. Like I get the anger, but it's misdirected at the wrong target, and now you're part of the problem. I think people posting things like this need to step back and reevaluate why they're here. If they can't find a good reason to stay here and remain compassionate towards the women we have dedicated our time and effort to liberating, they should abandon the cause. At this point they are just detrimental to garnering support for our cause.

Why are radfems becoming so dogmatic?

How do you expect women to be receptive to your ideology if you constantly talk down to women who you don’t agree with?

[kookiecrumb]

His sweets ..

These r the answers to the questions u asked about my crush not sure if u wanted to see the answers or it was questions for me to be answered in my head but yeah i wanted to share this so u can tell where to take this ..

He's kind to everybody i know yes (even when he talks about others to me he knows what he should say and what he shouldn't... We once spoke about his ex and how they broke up .. in my opinion the girl wasn't right regardless of my liking for my friend she really wasn't right for him and did him dirty yet ... He never blamed her for anything he'd not bad mouth her at all )

He has a clean reputation, better than mine actually because he makes evryone around him very proud , he's the best son to his parents ( really good in academics behaviour and presentation) while I'm least bothered about his academics it does matter when it comes to our future, he's a degree student and he's gonna start his internship in a few days after his finals ..

So for now he's not stable , he's basically living on his parents money just like me .. from what i know is his parents are really stable and stuff .. also he has elder siblings one elder sister and a brother he grew up with them and i can tell that his upbringing is really good by the way he talks about women in general and his opinion on various topics

He used to treat his mother well but she isn't the best mother so now things r a bit different ... The said mother chose her career over her children so he's staying alone all by himself in whichever city that he lives in , he's literally left alone in the house to take care of himself...but yeah his parents don't hate him .. it's just that they work far away from the city and he had to stay back for his studies so now they only converse over the phone and sometimes it's a really short conversation because like he says his parents are too busy

He's financially responsible.. he's very concious about wasting money on unnecessary things because it's not his money and he doesn't want to misuse his parents hard earned money so yeah , he's very minimalistic with everything but ofcourse since his parents r really stable like i said they gift him stuff like a bike or a laptop , he doesn't ask for it. . they just gift him at occasions when he scores reall good marks in his exams or anything like that

He'd never have a problem with me pursuing my career or earning better than him because he's always begging me to study and score the best for myself he always says that the efforts i put it now will help me live a better life later .. tho he himself is a young student ...who also himself procrastinate sometimes he never lets me do that. . he's always hyping me up to get things done well and nice

He does not think that women's value decreases depending on how many children they have or how much sex they have ... It's just that he's a family person and his last two relationships were really bad and toxic for him so he says that he's not gonna date anyone ... Atleast not for a very long period of time

He says he'd want to earn and take care of his parents till they're alive .. buy his dad a car with his own earnings and yk all such family goals so yeah idk about his thaughts on children.

He's kind of Demi sexual.. he didn't say this he probably doesn't know what that means but from everything we spoke about i concluded that he's a demi sexual ..

Also he's straight af , he doesn't hate anyone based on their gender / sexuality / religious BUT he gets uncomfortable when his not so straight friends flirt him ... So once i asked him if he was a homophobe and he straight up declined

Later i told him about how im a bisexual but more inclined towards men so he was like "wow so cool , we can simp over hot women together now" so i conclude that he's not bothered by anyones sexuality ...

Yeah so the thing is he loves me alot , like too much but it's way too platonic and he trusts me that i don't break our friendship that has become so special to us , if i confess i know the answer it's a no but if i choose not to confess then l be very happy and certainly he too

He says he hadn't had such a bond with anyone for such a long time , he cherishes the time we spend together chatting up until late night and how we know each other so well ...

After all you've read above u must be thinking that she just described a too good to be true guy and that's my problem he's so nice that sometimes i start overthinking into what if this is all fake ? What if this is all a drama to gain my trust and then break it ?

I DON'T KNOW.. usually boys here at my place block you if u refuse on sharing sexual stuff with them but the fact that he doesn't want it from me makes me feel special he makes me feel like he doesn't love me only for my body and that feels so special yk ..

When he talks about my health , about how i should fix my eating and sleeping habits and how should I talk to my parents.. make things workout for myself ...

So yeah overall i love him alot but it's not all that romantic i do have a crush on him but I'm totally down with being platonic as well ! Because I'm not too deep in romantic love with him it could just be the heart flutters for now and maybe just the butterflies since no one calls me "love" these days ..

So yeah i myself have attachment issues , that way i don't wanna fuck up his already fucked up life

Plus even if we're both willing to date each other it's not the best plan because there's a chance we never meet in person even if we do thats ky after 4 to 5 years because the distance is took long that's why i don't want to confess

You will regret not confessing if you actually like him.

I've been in a long distance relationship with the person I plan to marry for almost 4 years.

Second of all...boys never overthink these sort of things. They're simple creatures.

He's not thinking like this: "Oh I'm gonna gain this girls trust just to betray her" because that's a pain in the ass and takes a long time.

If a guy is going to betray you, it's going to be sudden and thoughtless.

THAT BEING SAID, I think you should at least commit to each other.

You should talk with one another and you should express to him how you feel about him and how you wouldn't want him to be with anybody else but you. That you don't want to label it as dating (maybe), but you really like him and you want to spend your life with him.

Communication is the key to a long and stable long distance relationship. Also, acceptance that sometimes things will get very difficult between you.

He seems nice. I'd be honest with him instead of sitting here and asking me for help. HAHAHAH!

Show him you're not afraid to take initiative. Guys like who you describe value assertive yet supportive women.

[ahsxual]

Unbreakable Connection

Pairing: L!Joker x reader

Summary: You and J met each other coincidently and now, after a few months, you somehow managed to become really close friends.

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: 1,8k

A/N: Soo this is a request from lovely @heavymetalnarwhal where J and the reader have a platonic relationship. They've become close friends after they accidentally met. J has grown and now he trusts her, her home eventually becoming his haven and in return, the reader can finally have someone trustful to talk to, and someone who can understand her and be there when she needs him most. So darling, I hope you enjoy this! <3

(I don't own this gif!)

On a specific day, you were in the mood for a night walk: after all, you weren't having a good day, so you thought that this was the best thing to do to get away from your haunting thoughts;

Your usual way of relaxing is staying at home while watching some movie, reading some book, listening to music... but that particular day you just wanted to do something different, what lead you to something you would never expect to happen...

While you were walking into some empty and narrow street near a port, you heard some uncommon noises... more specifically from people talking and moving heavy objects hurriedly, you supposed;

You were about to return to your home when you heard them, but since you weren't in a hurry, you let your curiosity take the best of you;

Oh, how simple choices like this could origin such a drastical change in your life...

You hide yourself behind a corner, where you could see what seemed like ten people moving huge boxes with a "caution" warning on it into a truck, all of them covered in familiar masks;

When you were about to remember where those masks were from, you suddenly saw the one and only prince of crime of Gotham city: the Joker, jumping outside of the high truck into the ground effortlessly;

You covered your mouth after releasing a loud gasp unintentionally, earning suspicious glances from some masked men... or should you say women?

The Joker has women working for him too?? you thought, surprised by that fact.

After that, you started to run as fast as you could to your house, concluding that you had seen enough;

Little did you know that the psychotic clown saw you from afar, following you discretely after, while his goons continued to work;

When you got home, you went to bed and tried to sleep, thinking on how bad and strange that day was;

Since then, everyday you had the feeling that someone was following you, which obviously made you terrified. You thought about calling the police, but what if all of this was just your mind tricking you? What if you made yourself sound like a fool in front of the authority, wasting your time only to get to see them laughing at you afterwards? Yup, that's how Gotham police worked... and it was completely not worth it;

When you got home and finally managed to calm yourself down, you opened the door and instinctively screamed once you saw the most wanted psychopath in the city, chilling out on your sofa like he was in his own house;

"W-what are you d-doing here??" you asked, trembling, shaking from the inside out of your vulnerable body towards his presence;

"Oh, you arrived! I ah... just couldn't wait to finally meet the ah... little kitten who was picking at what she... shouldn't. But curiosity sometimes it's stronger than our own safety, isn't that right, huh?" he calmly, yet dangerously said, getting up from the couch to approach you slowly. You had nowhere to escape: you knew if you tried, he would kill you right then and there, and you wanted to do whatever was needed to stay alive just for a few more seconds;

"P-please, don't k-kill me...!" those words were the only ones that could came out of your quivering mouth by your frightened mind.

He looked at you disappointed, however he wanted to ask you something that he didn't understand just yet. "How... all of you are so... predictable. <Please, don't kill me!!>... Really? That's all ya have to say in your defense doll, huh?" he tried to imitate a little girl begging for mercy, which would make you laugh if you weren't on the that exact position.

"I-I guess if you were me, you would s-say the same thing. I... I don't k-know what else to say to you..." really? Were you really justifying yourself and trying to have a decent conversation with Joker?? He then stared at you intensely for a few moments, like he was analyzing you.

"Well, I guess I have to ah.. agree with ya on that one." he said. "But I didn't come here to ah... have a chat while drinking hot tea with ya. I actually wanted to ah... ask ya something."

"W-what is it?" even if you tried, you couldn't stop yourself from stuttering every time you spoke.

"Why didn't ya tell anything to the men that eat donuts 24/7 with a pistol in their ass pockets, the so called heroes of this city about ah... what you saw the other night, huh? If ya had reported me, I would probably be in jail right now instead of having this little... shitty chat with ya." even you didn't know the real reason, if you were honest. Maybe you thought this city was already fucked up, so what's the point in trying to arrest him when there’re many killers, thieves, and who knows what out there? You're just trying to live a quiet life... and if you did denounce him, you probably would be his next brutal victim once he lays his eyes on you again;

"I-I don't know... I just... want to live a quiet life. Let's be realistic: you probably would get out of the prison soon, so... it wouldn't make any difference, I guess..." this time you managed to speak without stuttering so much, which impressed you. He seemed thoughtful about your answer: he was good at reading people, and you didn't seem the kind of person that just wants to live their life in the best way possible, only caring about money and fame, not giving a shit about others. You have your own world, your own perspective of life, your own space without bothering anyone, and he admires that;

He could tell you're a shy and introverted person, not having anyone truthful enough to really talk about what happened... and Joker liked that fact.

From that, he already could tell that maybe you were someone to trust... and that's what he was about to find out;

After that, he nodded, telling you there was a chance of him coming back, since he got interested in your way of being. He decided to spare your life since you didn't report him, making you feel utterly relieved for not telling anything to the police or anyone;

Days passed and he wouldn’t show up like he said, and if you were honest, you actually missed him: you didn't have any romantic intentions with him, no no no, yet you thought maybe he could understand you... and accept you, finally valuing your worth and see you for who you are, without judging or offering rude side glances like most people do.That's when once again, he managed to impress you.

"Ta-daa!" he loudly exclaimed, making you jump from your secretary.

"What the hell?!" you exclaimed back, angry ‘cause he scared you by coming out of nowhere... again. "What are you doing here Joker??" calling for his name sounded strange... yet familiar, like you already knew him for a long time;

"Ah... from what I remember, I said I would come back. Soo here I am!" he then laid down caressly on your fresh-made bed. "Ohh this one's good! How much ah... did it cost, huh?" he said happily, finally having a comfortable bed to lay on instead of the rigid ground where he uses to sleep... when he can sleep.

You were speechless, him being completely at ease, but you decided to respond him. "Uh... it cost around 600 dollars. I saved a lot of money to buy it, so please be careful." suddenly, he started to laugh at you, like you said the funniest joke he ever heard.

"600 dollars?? Are ya kidding? Ya could just have stole it! And there would be so much fun and adrenaline on it as an extra!" he admitted excitedly, sounding like a kid who had the greatest idea about something random.

"Well, I'm not an expert thief like you. And I prefer to be humble and pay for it, thanks but no thanks." you answered, returning to do whatever you were doing previously before he unexpectedly entered your room.

"Oh... humility. Where does that lead us to, huh? To people getting whatever they want from us? Playing us like their little toys? Thanks, but no thanks." he imitated you casually with his arms resting under his fade green painted hair, which made you laugh this time since, somehow, you didn't feel scared of him anymore.

From that day on, he would visit you almost every day: firstly you felt like he was using you just to get a place to sleep and to properly eat: he has people working and doing anything for him, so why would he need you? Some common girl who's life isn't that interesting? You sadly thought. But with time, you could see he actually enjoys your company;

You would even tell him your problems, when a day went wrong or someone would bother you... and in that case, the next day that same person wouldn't be alive to tell the story. You thought strange at first, not knowing why everytime someone was mean and rude to you, they wouldn't be alive the next day. But then you put all the pieces together... so from that moment you stopped telling him when someone messed with you, unless it was really necessary and serious;

Sometimes you would tell him he was your guardian angel, to which he made a disgusted expression, making you correct yourself to "guardian demon";

"That sounds so much better, sweet cheeks." he said before winking at you. Every time he did that, you would blush furiously and hide your hot face, since you were a very shy and timid person, specially around him for some reason. He loved teasing you just to see you embarrassed, but of course he respected you, so he never crossed the line;

And all of this leads to now, where J is practically considered your weird best friend, the one you tell everything, the one you can truly trust and ironically, feel safe. If you only knew that one simple walk would make all of this happen... how funny life can be, putting two completely opposite people together and create this unbreakable connection between you two... like they always say, it's just destiny doing his work.

[andthisiswitchcraft]

Familiars: what are they?

This is something that comes up every once in a while and lately has been coming up a lot, so we should discuss familiars. It is largely thanks to modern commercialization of misconceptions from the European witch trails that we get our current misunderstandings of familiars. So let's breakdown the history and perceptions of familiars to get a better grasp of them.

Familiars are a kind of tutelary spirit, a non-corporeal intelligence that a witch/magician summons and binds to themselves. In a way, they are like a servant to the witch, but under some conditions. For instance, the magician needs to appease their familiar to keep its company. If a familiar feels that the magician has violated the terms of their pact, they will leave and may even harm the magician. Likewise, if the magician were no longer happy with the services their familiar provided, or they felt their familiar was leading them into danger, they would banish them or call on another spirit to send it away forever. Ultimately, assuming a good bond has been made, the familiar will stay with the magician for the remainder of the magician's life, as familiars do not die. They're spirits, so they don't die. They will assist in magical practices, teach, heal, fetch money, fetch mightier spirits to help, et al. In return the magician will give shelter, food, water, and whatever else the witch-familiar compact may have an agreement on.

The oldest and closest thing we have to the modern idea of a familiar are the household gods of the ancient world. Even as cities developed, individual households had their own gods. It isn't until much later that we see cities and states develop their own "household gods" or gods of the city.

Prior to the Romans there does not seem to be much of a distinction between household gods and the larger religion gods. But the Romans had three different names for these sorts of spirits that give us some clear distinctions of the perceptions these people had of their gods: genius loci, dii familiares, and lares. The genii loci were "spirits of place," and were spirits that governed and protected a specific area, such as a neighborhood, a crossroad, a forest, etc. Genii loci that governed a household were called lares. These were the household gods that residents set up shrines to just inside the doorway, a common practice to this day. Then there were the dii familiares, which were something like the lares, but watched over the whole family, as the family did not always stay in the home, but expanded, moved, went to the market, etc. If these household gods were not kept happy, they would leave the house and family, leaving them unprotected, and may even come back to harm them.

We see evidence of this in the Bible, particularly in Genesis where Rachel steals her father's household idols. Eventually there would be state genii loci, lares, and dii familiares, such as Roma personified as a goddess in her own right. Hermes was also a genius loci, usually at crossroads. Enodia (Hecate) was another crossroads genius loci. However these two gods become more state religion deities with their servant spirits watching over crossroads. Jehovah is very much like this with the ancient Israelites, even having a pact, i.e. the Covenant, of which the Ark of the Covenant was a fetish object to house God.

However, truly the oldest idea of a familiar is the personal daimon or demon, a specific daimon that is assigned to each person at birth. The oldest complete example of conjuring a personal daimon is described in the first portion of the Greek Magical Papyri, a collection of magical spells and rites dating between 1st century BC to 5th century AD. This rite details how to conjure a daimon that will be bound to the magician, and will teach and guide them, dine and sleep with them, and be with them until the end of the magician's days. Socrates himself may have had something like this when he refers to his daimonion, a "divine something" that advised and guided him, but never controlling him.

This personal daimon becomes a central feature of western magic. In Byzantine magic, such as in the Hygromanteia, the daimon becomes something akin to the dii familiares, though distinctly personal to the magician and the same familiar can be passed from master magician to apprentice (such as Dr. Faustus to his pupil). All grimoires been the 13th and 18th centuries have a rite to conjure a familiar or to conjure a spirit to bring a familiar. A great example of this is in the Ars Goetia where several demons are listed as being good for bringing familiars. Similar examples are found in spirit registers such as in the Grimorium Verum. Even folk magic includes ways of gaining a familiar, and the rites are usually a lot more simple than the formal ceremonial magic of the Renaissance grimoires. These are found in various Secreti or books of secrets (see for instance Treatise of Magical Secrets and Mixed Cabala, trans. by Rankine and Skinner)

Our current conceptions of a familiar come from the witch trails of the 16th and 17th centuries. Prior to this time period magic was not exactly forbidden. Magic was usually something that was tacked onto other charges, usually treason. Since magicians held their reputations via rumors and recommendations, and rumors are what Oliver Cromwell sought to destroy, thus witchcraft enters the courtroom thanks to such rumors of magicians. As witchcraft becomes chargeable on its own in the 16th century, we see players like Matthew Hopkins enter the stage. These "witch hunters" were nothing more than opportunistic assholes who used Cromwell's methods of hunting via rumors. Anything could be used as evidence of a witch, and townsfolk often used these opportunities to get rid of someone they didn't like by accusing them of witchcraft. Most of the people, usually women, though there were plenty of men tried as well, who were accused of witchcraft were not actually witches. They could just be lonely old widows that have a dog or a cat to keep them company.

Familiars, or rather pets, were a common way of determining if someone was a witch, since that was part of being a witch. However, people back then had pets like anyone today. So these women who were seen as unusual and therefore a witch, had their pets used as evidence against them. And really, they were like many of us: they had a close relationship with their pets, talked to them, really cared for them, took them everywhere with them. This all sounds strangely like a familiar, and to opportunists like Hopkins, it was the perfect rumor to locate a "witch." But really it was just an excuse to kill a quirky old woman no one liked who lived alone and loved to talk to her birds, and someone else probably really wanted her land.

Much of this pet as a familiar has become sensationalized today. In a way, yes, you can conjure a familiar to inhabit the body of your pet. In the Renaissance, possessing an animal with a spirit was no big deal. Today that would probably be seen as unethical to your pet. But there really is no need for this, as a spirit will physically appear to a magician at their command, and can even take on familiar forms such as a dog if the magician requests it. It is not uncommon to see in Renaissance grimoires a portion of the conjuration includes the magician stating, "appear to me in a pleasing form."

Further, it's borderline animal abuse to truly treat your pet like a familiar. A lot of energy is exhausted by familiars to be your servant, but they're spirits and can usually handle it, and if they can't, they go get you a bigger stronger spirit to handle it. Pets cannot do that, and they shouldn't have to. To truly use your pet as a familiar will most likely harm them in the long run. Pets should be treated like family, not your magical teacher and conduit.

In practice, the familiar can be almost any kind of spirit. In the Abramelin rite the familiar is called the Holy Guardian Angel, a divine heavenly entity assigned to each person at birth. In the Faustian tradition, the demon Mephistopheles is Dr. Faustus's familiar. In the Christian tradition, the Holy Spirit acts as a sort of familiar to Jesus, assisting Jesus with his miracles, and according to Paul raised Jesus from death. But familiars can also be souls of the dead, such as ancestors. In fact, the lares and dii familiares may have been ancestors of that family/household that always stuck around to watch over everyone, and later became deified.

So while our pets are very important to us and can even be a bit magical, they are not the same as a familiar. And in many ways it's wrong to say they are. It takes something that was viciously used to torture and kill lonely old women and sensationalizes it into an aesthetic, rather than a way of life, a devotion, and a compact you keep and renew each and every day with the same entity. And to make your pet an actual familiar is abusive. Having a tutelary spirit (or several) is central to western magical practices, but it is not the same as having a pet. If you want to get a pet, get a pet. If you want a familiar, there are hundreds of ways to conjure one up and make a lifelong pact with it.

The reason this is important to understand and differentiate is so you become a better pet owner and a better witch.

Franklin

Image: Matthew Hopkins, "Witch Finder General" (a title he made up) investigating witches and their familiars.

[alexhogh7137]

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Thirty-Five Part One

Chapter Thirty-Five Part Two: The Seige of Wessex England

Word Count 4.9k

Warnings: mentions of blood and death, angst

The Morning Of~

Ivar did not sleep well, he figures that he only got two hours of sleep. But still, his head is in the right place and he is more than prepared to give you the justice today that you so rightfully deserve. Is he concerned, yes. Is there a possibility that they could be going into a trap, yes. Is he worried for your safety, most definitely. Nonetheless, today must be done for the wellbeing of all of your futures. A future cannot be guaranteed until your father's head is on a spike. So there he is, in bed with you tangled up in his limbs. He is focusing on every perfections and imperfections of you. Oh how he loves you. 

You begin to toss and turn while he massages yours skin with his fingertips. His rough yet soft skin gives you the best chills of satisfaction. You begin to hum, making Ivar smirk proudly.

Ivar "Princess.." he whispered.

"Hmm?"

Ivar "We have to get out of bed." The way he was touching you, made you forget completely that today was the day of the siege. And your stomach began to turn into knots almost instantly at the thought of seeing your father. So you rise up from your place in Ivar's arms and plant your head in your palms. The warm fur blankets cover your bare chest but your back is fully exposed to your husband. So he takes it upon himself to rub your back for you. 

Ivar "I know babe.."

"I completely forgot. How could I forget, it's my battle?"

Ivar "Your mind blocked out the thought. It is not a bad thing, my love." You sigh, "But we have to get out of bed."

"Yeah..yes of course." You begin to move but Ivar grabs your arm closest to him and pulls you to him. He rises from his pillow and grabs your cheeks to kiss your lips for a good moment. His kiss is like heaven on earth. 

"I don't want that to be our last kis-"

Ivar "Hey, do not think such a thing. Do you understand me?" You nod with tears in your eyes, "We will live to see another day, my love. Alright? Do not worry."

You sniffle, "Do you wish to hear something crazy?"

Ivar "What type of crazy, hmm?"

"I am officially 4 months.."

Ivar smiles, "That is...wonderful my love."

"I should start to feel her move..even kick!"

Ivar "Oh my sweet, that is wonderful news."

"I can't wait to feel her little feet. She has grown so much over the last few days."

Ivar "She certainly has, our little warrior." You lean into Ivar's side as he holds you and your belly. This moment is special for multiple reasons: today marks not only your strong will to overthrow your father but it is also the day that starts the next chapter of your pregnancy, Ivar is getting to share this moment with you and you feel so lucky to be his wife. 

"I love you, Ivar Lothbrok."

Ivar "And I love you Y/L." Soon after, Ivar got out of bed and got his armor on and left yours and his chamber room.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next one to come in while you are getting your armor on is Hvitserk. Ivar wanted the armor to be underneath your black dress, that way you are even more protected. When you see Hvitserk, he looks like he has been crying all night long.

Hvitserk "Hey." His voice is rough and coarse. You find yourself not being able to speak, due to your throat burning and the tears that fill up in your eyelids. He notices your sudden change in behavior and walks up to you and just holds you firmly in his arms. 

"I am so scared, Hvitserk."

Hvitserk "I know, I know."

"I can-can't lose you..I can't lose any of you!" You start hyperventilating.

Hvitserk "Hey, hey, Y/n..you have to breathe, c'mon..breathe in...and out. In...and out." You do as he tells you and your breathing begins to steady itself. "Good. Now you listen to me, I have a reason to fight. I have a reason to live. So what I need you to do, is fight with everything that you have and live..do you hear me?" You nod, "Because you are what is keeping me alive..you and our daughter. So I need you to stay strong and turn your fear into power. I know how strong you are, and I know how powerful you are. So do not let him win, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah."

Hvitserk "I love you, do you hear me?"

"I love you Hvitserk." He leans down and kisses your lips quickly, before your maidens came back in to help you further with your armor.

"My queen, we must finish."

"Y-yes of course." You say as you wipe away your tears and pick your head back up. 

Hvitserk "I'll leave you be to get finished, and hey, you make her as safe as possible, y'here?"

"Of course. That is my duty." He nods and walks out the door. You try to pound into your head everything you can possibly think of that will power you, give you the strength you need to face your father. 

"I am going to place an extra layer of armor over your belly, my queen."

"Hmm? Oh thank you sweetheart. That is kind of you." She nods as she places an extra layer. You have to admit, it feels good to be wearing armor again. It makes you feel a sense of dignity and honor to be a warrior and a queen. 

When you walk out of your chambers, there is no one in your home. Everyone is out, preparing to leave Kattegat and head to Wessex. You are almost proud to see your people come together and fight for you and for your justice. That is, until Rollo comes into the house.

Rollo "Ah, my queen!"

"Hello Rollo."

Rollo "I must say, you look incredible but where is your armor? Are you-"

"Yes, I am fighting. Ivar insisted on the armor being inside of my clothing for more protection."

Rollo "Huh..I have never heard of such a thing."

"I think it is brilliant. Now shouldn't you be with your men, Rollo?"

Rollo "My men are all in order, my queen."

"Good, that is good isn't it?"

Rollo "Oh yes."

"And my husband is.."

Rollo "With his brother's."

"...and where are his brothers?"

Rollo "By the tents...by the ships." You nod and walk away from him. He really gets under your skin, not as much as your father used too, but deep enough to enrage you fairly quickly. "Oh and my queen!" You stop just a few inches out of the door, "May the gods be with you." You smirked and left the house. You do not know if he meant that as an insult or if he was sincere. No matter, you know that the gods are with you and your people. You can feel their strong presence. 

…

You look around and find Ubbe with Torvi at first. She is holding little Ragnar in her arms as her daughter clings to Ubbe's hip. She must be so worried for her father's return to Kattegat. 

Torvi "When are you leaving?"

Ubbe "As soon as we can. I promise to make it back to you and the children."

Torvi nods, "I love you." 

Ubbe "So much." He kissed her and watched her walk away, finding you walking towards them. Torvi stops in her tracks when she spots you. You can tell that she is holding back tears as you get closer and closer to your dearest friend.

Torvi "Oh my queen."

"You don't have to call me that-"

Torvi "Oh but I do..uhh." she sighs.

"What."

Torvi sniffled and bursted into tears, "You should not have to fight as pregnant as you are..!" You walk closer to her and cup her cheeks.

"I am not fighting at nine months, Torvi. I have to fight my own battle.."

Torvi nods, "I know. I am so very proud of you Y/n. You are a strong and courageous women and shield maiden. I am so lucky to call you my friend." You cry then and pull her into your arms for a warm embrace. Little Ragnar starts to cry, from seeing his mother so sad you can imagine. 

Torvi "Oh shh shh-"

"Go on, go inside and get your kids warm. I will see you tonight."

Torvi "I better."

"You will, I love you."

Torvi "I love you back-"

"Are you fighting!?" Her daughter screamed as she grabbed my hand. You kneel down and get down to her level so that you can look at her fully as you speak to the little girl.

"Why yes I am."

"Why!? You are queen!" She stammered.

"And that is why I am fighting. A queen has many duties, little one. And one of those duties is to fight alongside the king."

"Will you be back?" Ubbe has joined his wife's side and listens to his daughter's cries and fears.

"Of course I will. I would not want to leave Kattegat without a queen."

"You are the best one.."

"I'm sorry?"

"Best queen...ma'am." You look up at Ubbe who is fighting back tears of his own. 

"Thank you, beautiful. You make me so proud to be your queen. Now go on, go with your mother and get warm." Torvi takes her hand and leads her to the house as Ubbe pulls you in his arms. 

Ubbe grunts, "I have never felt less Viking before in my entire life.."

"Why do you say that?"

Ubbe snickers, "Because I have never cried as much as I have been since the death of my parents, princess." You listen, "I want you to know that I am so happy to be your brother...even though it is not by blood, I am still your brother and I will always protect you."

"Thank you Ubbe, that means so much to me." He nods and leads you towards Ivar and Hvitserk, who are sitting on a stump, sharpening their swords.

Ivar "There you are." 

"How is our army?"

Ivar "They are ready, my love. We were all just waiting for you."

Hvitserk "Should we all..um..take a moment before we head out?"

Ivar "What are you talking about?"

Hvitserk "I mean a moment of us all being together..we are going to be separated on the field-"

Ubbe "Yes," he clears his throat, "that sounds like a good idea brother." Ivar pulls you into his side, Hvitserk next to you and Ubbe next to Ivar, then you all stand together and have a moment of silence before the chaos. The calm before the storm, some might say.

Ivar "I uhm, I know I've never said it to you..my brother's. But I love you, believe it or not, I do. And I am sorry for not saying it enough or at all before now but just know that I do.."

Ubbe takes his shoulder and places his head upon his, "And we love you, little brother." Hvitserk kisses your hair before grabbing his sword and walking aboard one of the ships. Ubbe swiftly does the same and then Ivar looks at you for a second before connecting his lips to yours.

Ivar "I love you."

"I love you."

Ivar "Forever."

"And always. I will be flying above you.."

Ivar "Good, go on." You walk towards your three beasts and get upon Ryuu. Ivar does not command the ships to leave until he sees Ryuu begin to fly. As soon as him and his army, along with Rollo and his army, started sailing, his fury began and all he saw was red. That bastard king of England's reign will come to an end on this day, Ivar will make certain of that.

...

As you fly above your husband's ship, you see how large your army is in full perspective. You can't help but look at everyone and smile in absolute disbelief that this battle can be won. Then you look up at the sky and through the clouds and whisper to yourself, "I'm going to make you proud mother, I promise. Be with me. Be with me. Be with me." Neith looks over at you as she flies parallel to you. She talks to you with her eyes and says, 'she is mother, she is with us always.'

"Yes she is, baby. Now..let's go avenge her!" 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mid-day~

When your home comes into view, your expectations were that you would tremble with fear, that you would want to call off this attack. But no, your first thought is to burn it all to the ground. Leave no one alive. See the kingdom of Wessex be nothing but a pile of ash. Maybe that is what you will do, if you feel like it is necessary.

When Ivar see's the kingdom, he asks himself, 'where are you hiding?' He searches every corner that he can get his eyes on but he sees no one. Not even a civilian, why?

Hvitserk "Where is-"

Ivar "I don't know."

Ubbe "We could be going into a trap, brothers…"

Ivar clenches his jaw, "If so, we will push right through them. If anyone dies today, it is the bastard who calls himself king." Ivar ends up commanding Rollo to go ahead of them in case it is indeed a trap, he does not want his warriors to get the blunt of the attack. You make your dragons hover above your warriors ships to wait it out. And that is something caught your eye: two large slingshots being pulled close to the gates. 

"Ivar!" He looks up at you, "Now!" He looks at you for a second longer and then looks forward and sees an army coming out of every entrance. 

Ivar "Forward!" You didn't take a moment to think before you fly towards the enemy. You didn't have to command your dragons to fire at the weaponry that your father was attempting to fire, they did it themselves.

You have taught them well. As your dragon's burn every inch of the ground, along with some warriors, you search the castle's borders in search of your best friend. That is until you hear the screams of two thousand warriors, drawing their swords for a war that they would not win. Ivar's mind is scattered. He sees his uncle's warriors getting slaughtered at the entrance, his wife in the air, and his brother's killing warriors who have reached the boat.

He makes a quick decision to get him and his men off of the ships and onto land: that way, they are stable enough to kill the way that they have been trained. You see your husband and his brother's get off the ship and onto the land. All at the same time you see your father holding onto your best friend by her throat. You witness too many things all at once, first it makes you terrified,

but then it enrages you and all you see is red and fire. You command Ryuu to fire your father's surroundings but leave him and your friend unscathed. 

"My daughter!! Welcome home!!" He hollered from the ground. 

"Let her go!"

"Why would I do such a thing? How could I be so clumsy? She betrayed me!"

"And you betrayed your daughter! All of those years of torment, when all you had to do was be a loving father..a loving king!"

"It is better to be feared than loved Y/n!"

Thyra "Long live the queen!" And before you could speak, he took out his sword and slit your best friend's throat right before your eyes. You scream out in pain as you watch her fall to the ground, choking on her own blood before she soon joins Valhalla. Eldr flies down to the ground, takes your father in his mouth and flings him over the castle. If he survives the fall and the puncture wounds from your son's teeth, then you will get the chance to make him suffer for everything he has put you through. Your friend's death sealed his fate. He will suffer an agonizing death. Ivar hears your screams, he hears your whimpers but he does not know why you are screaming. There is a hill blocking his view of what you are hovering over. His mind races and makes the decision to wall his way over to you. White Hair stays close to Ivar, killing everyone that comes in contact with Ivar. But you see, Ivar is a king and he knows how to fight. He knows how to kill in one strike, and he does just that. 

Ryuu lands and you get off of him, walking towards your friend's body. You hold her head in your lap and mourn her for what feels like hours. And repeat aloud, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry! I am so sorry, I'm sorry I couldn't save you!" You feel a hand over your shoulder and you quickly take out your dagger to strike the man who has a hold of you, but before you pierce his skin, you realize it is not the enemy, it is your husband. 

Ivar "My love, it's me hey..it's me!" You drop your dagger and fall into your husband's lap. He holds you for a moment before White Hair tells you that you have to move to somewhere safe. 

Ivar "In the castle, go!" Once you are inside, you fall to the floor in grief. "You couldn't save her, my love."

"I promised her, Ivar. When we were kids, I promised her that I would always protect her!" You said out of breath.

Ivar "And you did just that, Y/n. Up until now, you did protect her. It was her time to join the gods. There is nothing that could have stopped that."

"I want his head.on.a.spike." 

Ivar chuckles, "Oh his head will be displayed as a monument for the people of Wessex. I will make sure of that, now we must go out there and fight. Are you with me?"

"Always."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hvitserk is in his own zone. He is killing left and right. He feels like he is unstoppable. He has never killed so many men in all of his life. And that is being said when he has been in more battles than he can count with his fingers. But he has a mission, and that mission involves you. Therefore, he takes it very personally. 

Ubbe "Where is Ivar?" He yelled when he realized that he had lost him in the midst of battle.

Hvitserk "More importantly, where is the queen?!" Ubbe looks up and finds your dragon's circling over the castle, so he puts two and two together and figures that you have to be close by. 

Ubbe "The castle, let's go!"

They kill as they walk, not stopping for anything. They have to get to you, you have to be protected. When he finds you, you are fighting multiple men at once and so is Ivar. White Hair is battling his own men and he is struggling. 

Hvitserk "Help White Hair, I'll help Y/n!" He screamed. Ubbe does just that, helping White Hair off the bloodied ground and back on his feet. While Hvitserk butchers your warriors who would just not give up. Once they are dead, Ivar looks over at his brother and thanks him with his eyes. 

"Thyra is dead." 

Hvitserk "She-"

"My father killed her." You move your head and gesture for Hvitserk to look behind you, where her body still lays. Once he saw her, he apologizes for your loss. 

"He will die today, I am not leaving Wessex until I have him in my grasp."

Ubbe "WHERE IS THE KING?!" He hollered in a grizzley voice. You try to answer but a warrior comes up and knocks you to the ground with his shield. Everyone is caught off guard and your boys immediately kill and decapitate the warrior that knocked you off your feet. You fall so hard that you bump your head, and your vision goes blurry. You look around and make out your boys killing that warrior, but what they are doing is very unclear. You look up and see your dragon's fire down at the warriors who are attempting to burn down your ships. Dirt is being flung onto your face and your eyes struggle to stay open. 

When your eyes finally reopen, you see Hvitserk carrying you into the castle. When he places you down, you see Ivar dragging your father's body into the castle. Ubbe, Rollo, White Hair and Rollo's personal guard are at the door, blocking anyone from coming in. 

"How long was I out?"

Hvitserk "Long enough for Ivar to find the bastard and get him here."

Ivar "Honey, are you alright? Does anything hurt?"

"I'm going to have a little lump from the fall but I am alright. Is the battle over?"

Ivar smiles, "They have surrendered, my queen." Your emotions overflow in your head, making you cry out tears of joy and victory. That is until you see your father, clinging to life and bleeding on the marble floors of this kingdom. You get up and walk over to the man and kneel before him. 

"Look at me, old man." He does not, "LOOK AT ME!" He jolts and looks up at his daughter. "Just answer me one thing. Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why did you kill Thyra? Wh-why her?"

He coughs up blood as he laughs, "She made me do it."

"All she did was be my friend. And all you did was kill an innocent woman."

"I .. I am sorry, little one."

"Sorry, SORRY?" You take out your dagger and hold it to his chest. "You are not sorry. You are NEVER sorry. You are only saying what I want you to hear..so I spare your life. Isn't that right dad?"

"I have given you life. HAVE I NOT? I have given you the gift of magical creatures. HAVE I NOT?!" You take a step back from him and begin to tremble. 

"You have given me those things father, that is true. But you have taken more things than you have given." He scuffs, "Do you not remember what you did to me as a child?"

"What thing's-"

"I was just a child," you choked on your tears, "I was just a little girl and you treated me like a grown woman!" Hvitserk holds onto the small of your back in attempts to comfort you. "I almost died, Father!"

"I wouldn't have let you died, stupid girl." He coughed, "You were far more valuable to me alive then dead." Ivar takes a few steps forward and lowers his torso so that he can look the man in the eyes. 

Ivar "You watch your mouth," he growled, "before I remove your tongue." He spat. 

"How does it feel to lose your kingdom to your daughter, hmm?" You said with your head held high. 

He snickers, "Who said that I didn't let you win, little one?" 

Ivar "My love, if you do not kill him, I will. I have had enough of his mouth."

"You think I am weak? You think I cannot kill him myself?"

Ivar "No, no not at all. I admire your strength. But allowing him to talk, allows him to slither his way back into your head." You know that he is right. So you pull your three men aside while Rollo and his men watch over the king. 

"I think that we should prolong his death. He is already dying. Eldr's teeth pierced through his armor. You can hear his breathing starting to fade-"

Hvitserk "What are you saying?"

"I am saying...I want his death to be as horrific and agonizing as possible, for what he did to me and my family."

Ivar "So what would you say we do?"

"Bring him back with us, place him in the cave that your guards put me in when I first arrived. Ivar, if we starve him, remove his clothing so he feels the bitterness of winter on his skin...his death will be long and painful. He will beg for mercy." 

Ubbe "He would beg for mercy.."

Hvitserk "And the cold will prolong his death. He will freeze from the inside if we do this."

Ivar "Good. And I will spend some quality time with my father-in-law..make sure he is enjoying his stay." He smirked. You know that Ivar meant that he would torture the man, and you love the sound of that. Sickening as it sounds for a daughter to say that about her father, if anyone deserves torture, its your father. "I am proud of you, my beautiful wife." He kisses your forehead before turning to White Hair. 

Ivar "Prepare a ship! He is coming with us."

"No! No, no! Just kill me, PLEASE! Y/n, please!" He pleaded.

"Oh don't worry father, you will. Just not how you would like. Or should I say, how you would demand to die." You lean down to your father once more, "You are going to love Kattegat father, especially where you will be staying. It is just like the dungeon you and king Harald placed me in to wither away and die. Take him!" He begged and pleaded, he even apologized multiple times before White Hair placed him in the boat. 

When you walk out of the doors, your best friend's body is still on the ground by the front entrance. 

"I will bring her with me as well. I wish to give her the proper burial."

Hvitserk "Which ship do you wish for her to be on, princess?"

"Not a ship. Neith will bring her home. Just help me get her up there..please." He nods. Him and Ubbe swiftly got her on Neith's back and she flew off into the horizon. When you get out of the castle with Ivar by your side, you hear your name being chanted. You look up at Ivar with a confused look on your face, but all he has on his face is a pure, soft smile. 

"They are thanking you, my love. You saved them from their ruler." Before you know it, the people of Wessex are before you and kneeling in praise. Among them, you spot Thyra's mother. Shs is bowing to you herself with just gratitude that it takes you aback. You walk towards her, take her hand in yours and beg for her to rise. 

"Thank you for saving this kingdom, my sweet girl."

"I..I don't know what to say. I couldn't save your daught-" 

"You have saved her life in more ways than one, Y/n. She loved you more than you could have ever known. Do not blame yourself for this tragedy. Because she was ready to move on to the next life." You burst into tears and she pulled you into a warm embrace as she cried with you. When she pulls back, she cups your cheeks and kisses your forehead. 

"Thank you for saving this kingdom."

"I um..my dragon is taking her back to Kattegat, that is my husband and I's kingdom..I wish to give her a proper burial. You are more than welcome to join us, I know that she would want for you to be there." She nods and smiles.

"I would like that very much. Thank you. Thank you so much." You nod and turn around and find your husband standing close by, talking to the people. You introduce her to Ivar and explain to him that she will be joining them for the ceremony. 

Ivar "You are more than welcome into our home miss-"

"Helga."

Ivar "Helga. Such a beautiful name."

Helga "Thank you kindly."

Ivar "This is my brother Ubbe, he will show you to our ships. We will join you shortly." 

Ubbe "This way." She nods and takes Ubbe's arm. When she walked off with him, Ivar took your hand and rubbed it softly. Your bodies are splattered with blood but neither of you care.

"I can't believe she thanked me even though she lost her daughter today.."

Ivar "She knows that even though she lost her daughter, she gained a safe kingdom today."

"But who is to rule? My mother did not bare a son and I rule with you.."

Ivar "We will figure it out, my sweet. But right now, let's go home." You agreed and got into the ship with Ivar and Hvitserk while you let your two dragon's fly above. Today was a success. The kingdom of Wessex is technically under your rule. But you still have unfinished business to take care of. And that is your father. But sure enough, he will pay for what he has done and then you will finally be able to rest. 

Ivar "Come here, my love. Rest now. You have done your duty as queen and shield maiden. Close your eyes," you rest your head on his shoulder, "I've got you. We will wake you when we are home. I love you."

"Love you." You mumbled. You did not realize how exhausted you were until your adrenaline died down and you were in Ivar's arms. Hvitserk sits down in front of you two and breathed out in relief that the battle was won and that they were all together and heading back to Kattegat. 

@hvitserkmarcosource @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @a-mess-of-fandoms @heavenly1927 @saldelys @conaionaru @readsalot73 @herestherealproblem

[brycelahelalover]

Relightning the spark

Pairing: Bryce × f!MC( Tesse Sterling )

Author's note: Hello!! I'm back witn another fanfic, though this one is going to be special to me. If you want to know why, stick around to the VERY end to know. Enjoy.

Warning: Angst.

Part 2 Part 3

The past

"... and Cinderella and Prince charming lived a happy life together. The end." Tesse concluded, closing the book.

"That story is.. lame." Snarked Keiki, rolling her eyes.

"But you chose it..." Said Bryce.

"Yeah, in hopes that it might be less lamer than the movie. But jokes on me, it was worse.. I don't know why mom insists on buying me this kind of books. I'm really not interested in reading stories about a Prince swiping the poor women off her feet." Responded Keiki while rolling her eyes again.

"You're a six years old girl." Said Bryce.

"Your point being?" Asked Keiki while arching her brow.

"You should like this kind of stories. About the princes and princesses and whatnot." Said Bryce like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

"She SHOULDN'T like anything. And I agree with her. All Disney princesses stories are sexist. They all represent the girl as this fragile creature that needs the help of the man to get out of her miserable life." Added his girlfriend.

"See? Tesse gets it." Said Keiki while giving her brother a pointed look.

They continued bantering over which one of the Disney movies is less sexist when they heard a loud bang followed by a scream.

"Is that your mom?!" Tesse asked Bryce frantically.

"Yeah.. Tesse, Keiki, you two should stay here and lock the door after i leave." He said while looking in the door's direction.

"What? No, I'm coming with you." Replied Tesse, following him up from the foot of Keiki's bed.

"Tesse.."

"Bryce, no. I'm coming with you. End of story."

"You're a real pain sometimes, but fine... Keiki, you stay here. Quiet. We'll come back as soon as we can, alright?" Said Bryce.

"Okay." Responded Keiki, looking scared.

Bryce kissed his sister's forehead and then went and opened the door slightly, checking the hallway. Tesse followed him but not before giving the little girl a tight hug.

"You're going to be alright, okay?" She told her before her and Bryce left the room.

Bryce and Tesse walked the rest of the hallway quietly, as to not alert the intruder. But what they saw upon making it to the staircase was still up to debate, whether be it better than a burglar or not.

The grand hall was filled with armed police men. All of whom surrounding Akoni Lahela. Bryce's father.

"What's going on?" Said Akoni while one of the police officers is putting handcuffs on him, sounding enraged. But if you strain a little bit, you could hear the panic in his voice.

"Akoni Lahela, you are under arrest for charges of insider trading." Said the oldest looking officer, giving off an air of authority.

"WHAT?" Said everyone at the same time.

"There must be a mistake.." Said Akoni, looking around frantically as if searching for an escape.

"Save the act, Lahela. I'm not interested in hearing whatever story you're going to come up with." Said the officer, sounding even more agitated than before.

Then he turned to Bryce's mother, Rosalind, and addressed her.

"Mrs. Lahela, your presence is requested at the police station tomorrow."

"I didn't do anything." Rosalind said.

"That's still up for debate. Now.." The officer said before mentioning to the one holding Akoni to follow him.

Bryce ran down the stairs, stopping before the older policeman.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry but there has to be a mistake.. he.. we.. how?"

The officer laid a hand on Bryce's shoulder, speaking more softly.

"Son, your father DID that."

He patted the teenager's shoulder before turning to his father.

"Come on, off we go."

"I want to call my lawyer." Said Akoni through gritted teeth.

"Don't worry, Lahela. You'll get your call. Though not before you're put in a cell." He replied while leading the way out of the door.

Soon, their voices were replaced by the roaring engine of the retreating police cars and the grand hall became empty expect for Tesse, Bryce and his mother.

"Mom? What were they talking about?" Asked Bryce.

"Why are you asking me? I know nothing about that. Now.." Rosalind said before turning to Tesse.

"You're still here? Don't you have a home to go back to?" She added, turning up her nose to the girl.

"Don't you talk to her like that!" Said Bryce, glaring daggers at his mother.

"Bryce, it doesn't matter.." Said Tesse.

Indeed it didn't, since Rosalind was already marching up the stairs, looking like.. well, like someone whose husband didn't get arrested just a few minutes ago.

Tesse squeezed Bryce's hand, drawing his attention back to her.

"It's okay, and I should go home anyway."

"You can stay if you want to.." Said Bryce, drawing her to his arms.

"Nah, I really should go. Unless I want MY mom to rip me a new one." She said, hugging him back.

"Alright, I'll take you back, we should check on Keiki first though."

30 minutes later, they were standing in front of Tesse's house. They both got off the motorcycle and started walking towards the door in silence, holding hands. Upon making it there, Tesse stopped and then turned to her boyfriend.

"Do you want to come in and talk about.. earlier? I'm sure my parents wouldn't mind."

"Nah, I'd rather sleep it off."

"You sure?"

"Yup."

"I'll see you tomorrow then?"

"Yeah, I'll come pick you up like usual."

He said before bringing her lips to his in a sweet kiss after which Bryce turned and marched back to his bike. Tesse watched his retreating back before going inside.

The next day, upon setting their feet down into the school grounds, the stares and dirty looks started. It's like everyone decided that they were the most important people in the planet. True, Bryce and Tesse were among the "popular kids" but they weren't popular enough to claim this much attention. And Bryce knows what changed that.

"Everyone is looking at us." Said Tesse, looking between all her fellow students that are surrounding them.

"Of course they are." Replied her boyfriend.

"What do you mean?"

"You really need to start watching some news."

At her shrug, Bryce continued.

"The news of my father's arrest and the reason why got aired this morning. Everyone probably saw the headlines."

"Oh my god, Bryce. Are you okay?"

"As well as you'd expect."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Nah, plus the bell just rang so we should hurry up."

Tesse cast a worried glance toward her boyfriend before they made their way towards class amongst all the whispers and dirty looks and pointed fingers which lasted the whole day and seemed to intensify with every new one. But what bothred Bryce the most were the comments Tesse was receiving from her supposed friends and practically every other person in school. He didn't care that much about the comments he was receiving, or didn't care as much as he can, since he felt a responsibility for what his father did. He couldn't say anything, especially to the kids who claimed that his father's deeds ruined their lives. But to have Tesse on the receiving end of that kind of treatment as well, that wasn't fair to her.

One of the times Bryce was present when few of the remarks were thrown at her was the Monday leading to prom. The two girls were pretending to be whispering behind their hands even though their voices could be heard clearly from Bryce and Tesse's spot just a few feet away.

"Isn't she planning to break up with him?" The first girl asked.

"Why would she?" Replied the second girl with a question of her own.

"His dad is a criminal."

"She's probably a part of what they did."

Bryce couldn't hold it in anymore. He turned to the girls, giving each of them a glare that could melt steel.

"Oh for goodness sake, would you two cut this rubbish.."

He could feel Tesse's grip in his elbow, trying to get his attention.

"Bryce, it's fine.."

"What? No, Tesse. It's not fine. Did you hear what they were saying about you?"

"Well, that's rich coming from the guy who refuses to speak up about himself."

"That's different."

"No, it's not." She said before sliding her backpack on her shoulder and making her way toward her next class.

And from there on out, Bryce tried to be with her as much as he can, even though Tesse wouldn't let him speak for her, not even once to the comments that were getting even harsher by the day.

It was the night before prom when he decided what he should do.

"Wanna go to our spot?"

Bryce sent the text that was answered a few minutes later.

"Sure."

"I'll come pick you up."

A few minutes later, Bryce was driving his bike to Tesse's house. And then they were making their way to their "spot" on companionable silence.

It was a cliff that overlooked Maui. They found it on their third date sophomore year. It wasn't that far from Tesse's home. Upon making it there, Bryce parked his motorcycle so that they can lean on it while looking at the view in front of them.

After a few beats, Tesse turned to him with a smile on her face.

"So, you ready for tomorrow?" She asked.

"About that.." He said while running his hand through his shoulder long hair.

"Yeah?"

"Tesse.. I don't think I can do this anymore." He whispered, barely keeping his tears at bay.

"What?" She said in a quiet voice.

"I think we should call it quits." Replied Bryce while looking at anything but her.

"Bryce.. are you joking?" Tesse said in a voice that betrayed the fact that she was trying to hold in her sobs as well.

"No."

"Why? Three years, Bryce. What could've made you do this now." She said, the tears having already escaped.

"Tesse, I'm not the person for you."

"And how do you know that?"

"Tesse, my dad is a criminal."

"I'm aware. And you're telling me that why? Bryce, I'm dating you, not your dad."

"Yeah. But as long as we're going to be together, you're going to be hurt from what people are going to say and your name is going to be dragged through the mud alongside mine. And you don't deserve that, Tesse. You deserve only the best." Bryce said, clutching her upper arms.

"But If the best isn't you, i dont want it." Said Tesse through sobs.

"Believe me, you don't to be with me right now." Said Bryce before kissing her forehead.

"Bryce, no.." Said Tesse, clutching his shirt in her fists.

Bryce extracted himself from her grasp before he climbed his bike and drove off into the distance. Leaving a broken heart in his dust while trying to convince himself that he did the right thing.

A/N: Hi, again. So this fanfic is going to have 2 parts, maybe more, I don't know. So as I said earlier, this fanfic is special to me because it's a collab between me and @tyrilsnightbloom who is going to be writing the next part.

P.S: want to be tagged? Tell me😊.

Tagging: @tyrilsnightbloom

[bigscaryyanderewriter]

Liebling (Medic x Reader)

3k words

Tw: Medical stuff, dubcon, abuse, bondage, blackmailing, blood, yandere themes

This was commissioned!!! The first one I have gotten and I would love to thank the lovely person who paid for my writing. I definitely enjoyed writing this..please, gimme money aghaghaghagh ❤

-----------------------------

The rain poured as you shuddered, the bus stop where you were staying that night was lit up by the flickering street lights while you waited for the train. Dark clouds loomed in an ominous sort of way as the storm seemed to suffocate all light that wasn't from it. It only just occurred to you that the bus may not even be coming with the weather being as it is. Your phone glowed in your hand as you tried to browse away your worries that came from being here.

You needed to get out.

You needed out of this town and away from the hand that you had been dealt by the shitty folks of the city. Anywhere was better than here. You knew that, ignoring the frantic texts from your mother. She was begging you to come home, to think about and telling you how crazy you were being.

The funny part was, she was the one who let your father throw things at you. She didn't stop him from hitting you physically and using his sickeningly good way with words to jab at every fault you had. It was worse than anything when he wouldn't hurt you. He would just rip you apart as he told you about how you shouldn't have been born, you were definitely not his child and he could never, ever see you doing anything with your life.

He didn't care about you.

You still were nursing your arm as the shirt you wrapped around it was… Less than dry as blood soaked the already rain dampened fabric.

Wincing, you looked at your hand and then nearly jumped at the shaking of any umbrella. It was a man in a trenchcoat, a pair of glasses on his face and dark hair. He was rather handsome with a good jaw and strong features, but his eyes were on you… It was an intent gaze as he was seemingly to analyze what form of foreign creature you were.

A frown formed on your face as you saw how he kept staring, "Just what do you think you're looking at? Can't a girl catch the midnight train going anywhere?" Your voice cracked with slight emotion as you turned your head away. It wasn't until he moved closer that you went to look back.

911 wasn't going to be coming, you wouldn't call for help and you hurriedly went to stand with your bag of necessities as the man grabbed your hand.

"Please, please let go of my arm!"

"Frau, your arm will get infected with zhe way you've wrapped it und I don't think you want that."

You froze, realizing the amount of blood you had bled unto the bench and pavement beneath you as your hands shook. It was surreal as he slowly began addressing your wound and a hiss escaped you. Clearly he didn't care about your actual pain as he did his thing.

He asked minimal questions, but he did talk about the weather and such. You mainly "mhmm"ed and said yeah. It was actually soothing to hear him speak, because soon you were trying to stay awake. Helping you, he informed you that he was going to take you to a nearby place and get you something to eat. You needed to stay awake.

The night went on. You learned his name was Ludwig and he was from Stuttgart, Germany. You began to feel better. The way he seemed so generous was… It was lovely, he was genuine in how he treated you. You feel the way he isn't trying to pity you, while you just dump your issues onto the table as you both eat. His brows furrowed in, frowns come and he even offers to let you stay with him. You couldn't accept. He gave you his number to call if the wound gave you more trouble though and it was… You would take him up on that.

He was very persistent on you contacting him again though, just to continue talking. You were told how you were… less annoying than the average person and it was flattering, you supposed.

After he left, you slowly made your way to a motel. Scraping together the money from working was beneficial as you now sat in a room with warmth in it. Your sleep was dreamless that night, but it was better than nightmares.

You didn't even notice how a red umbrella followed you there that night and how a pair of intense, blue eyes kept on you when you had figured they were long gone.

The cut was healing alright, but it still hurt. You had actually been texting Ludwig, who helped you that night. Mainly for info on how to deal with your wound. He was more than helpful as you took care to follow his instructions.

Money was running low for you though, as you only had enough for another day in the motel. You would be on the streets and have to figure it out. It was not a comforting thought as you racked your brain.

It had been more than once when your dear medic had offered to house you, but you… You weren't sure. A man you didn't know and the potential of bad things happening. His words seemed to convince you otherwise though. He was a doctor, he was safe. Nothing would happen if you weren't interested and he just wanted to help you.

The "if you weren't interested" part made your face heat up as you had over thought the idea of Ludwig had formed some sort of… Affection for you, other than platonic. He did seem to have more regard for your life than he seemed to have for others. It was a bit alarming the first time he talked about his patients, but it was just the world you live in. You could accept it, especially when so many worse individuals dwelled in it.

It was a confusing situation considering how he hardly knew you. Though, men were men is what you could only mutter as you thought of how your father spoke of women. A disgusting, dehumanizing way of thinking about women.

The second day on the streets after realizing you couldn't live like this… You went to him. He welcomed you with open arms, even feeding you a warm meal. New clothes were provided, even an actual bed. You couldn't stop thanking him as you tried to not cry.

His way of calming you was interesting and you often find yourself with his strong, dexterous hands on your arms. Ludwig was a very hands on type of person, never handsy in a way you didn't like though. It was those touches that made butterflies sometimes erupt in you.

The way he just seemed to have a grip on every aspect of your life in such a short span of time was intimidating though. It was almost natural after a while though. The giving up the reigns on how you lived was… It was comforting, not having to worry about so much.

When days passed and you came up with a more stable plan, you told your host about it. You would work and go live in the motel while saving money. They did have a room for rent and it was relatively cheap. It was a good idea in your opinion and he seemed to like it, but then you fell down the stairs.

You didn't notice Ludwig coming down as you did and he lost his balance, accidentally sending you down. He said sorry, but you almost thought he was more upset about your new injury. You had a concussion and your knee hurt terribly when you were helped back upstairs by your friend as you wept, clinging to him as a support.

It wasn't brought to your attention how he quietly enjoyed those noises.

You had bruised yourself and it was soon better again, but you told him that you still planned on going through with your plan and he soured.

"You can't be on your feet yet, you should just stay here und let me help you. It will all be fine. You don't need to waste your time on such things." He would say as he continued to make various excuses. It was overbearing.

The way he would say suggestive things to you always made you blush and ignore it.

"With the way you get hurt, it is almost like you want to stay with me."

"You might as well live here und let me take care of everything."

"Oh… That wince was positively adorable."

It was brushed aside, until you realized just how trapped you were here… Just like home, in a way. Suffocating in this gilded cage, with Ludwig. You needed some time alone. Time to think. The hallway floor creaked as you went to leave, somehow feeling like you were doing something bad. Cream colored walls seemed to stand eerily while you slipped on the jacket Ludwig had gotten you. Opening the door, you heard his voice.

"Where are you heading off to so late? You know it is dangerous at night and it will most likely storm." He spoke casually, as if he is warning would stop you.

"Ludwig, I'm… I need to think about things alone. I have been relying on you for too long and it isn't because I want to leave. It is because I feel too guilty staying. You have a life to live and I'm just… Burdening you." You admitted some of what you thought as you went to look back at him when you feel the pinch in your neck.

"Sh sh sh… You'll be awake soon enough and we can continue our talk." His accented voice whispered in your ear as your world turned fuzzy and warm. It was the sense of panic that drained from you until you woke.

You woke up thrashing and in a cold sweat as you shouted out into the darkness. Your body was bound against the table as you tried to angle your head to look around. Your clothes were replaced with a gown of sort. A hospital one. No one was around. "Ludwig! LUDWIG!"

A chuckle resounded as a door creaked, showing the light from the hall and the light clicked on.. Ludwig stood in the bright fluorescent beams, a pair of, what seemed to be, scrubs on as he adjusted his glasses, looking down at you on the table as you feel your heart pounding within your chest.

You froze up as you look at the glare obscuring his eyes, a wide smile on his face. "Wunderbar! You know, you slept for quite a while and I didn't want to disturb you. Just with you looking so peaceful, but now that we are at this point… (Y/N), it is time for things to change in our relationship."

"Ludwig, uhm, change? We aren't even- We are not in any relationship." You were confused and you just wanted to leave.

"Hah… That doesn't matter. You continue to live with me, I will… Make sure you continue to live."

"Live?!" You say, becoming more and more scared.

"Ja, you know how things are here. I believe that we can be… Happy, I suppose." He said as he pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Uhm, what are those for?" The crack in your voice was embarrassing.

"Well, you see. I am going to apply local anesthetic to your arm und insert a small tracking device-"

"What?!" You look at him with wide, fearful eyes as you strain even more to escape.

"Oh, it will be only a little incision on your arm. Come yourself. It will be over before you know it."

His hands were going to grab a syringe beside you and he was seeming to begin the procedure.

"I will be injecting zhe anesthetic into zhe area where I will be working. You shouldn't feel anything, but if you do… Tell me immediately, ja? Ja. After making an incision once you are numb, I will insert this chip." He pulled a small chip off the table and showed it to you, "Afterwards, I will sew you back up and you'll be no worse for wear."

"Ludwig, I don't want you to do this, please! I-i'll do anything, I promise." You didn't know what else to do other than beg, because… If you didn't, then there was no stopping him.

"This is only a security measure. I know you don't love me und it is fine that you don't. All I need is for you to stay with me." He admitted as he held your arm still. Tears slowly ran down your face as you lay there, a choked noise escaping you.

It was the brush of lips against yours and the pinch of the needle in your arm that made you freeze, forgetting to cry out. The medic's lips moving and making you near melt for a second. It was blissful. Until he pulled away, leaving you panting and red faced.

"You drive me absolutely crazy, Liebling." He murmured before clearing his throat. "You may want to look away for a bit or look und watch. Watch what I'll do to you."

You quietly looked as he finished numbing the small area and grabbed a small scalpel-like device. Opening the skin as his hands gripped you where you could not feel. It was… Nauseating. You knew you shouldn't have watched. There was no reason you should do this to this to yourself and the way it looked was odd. It was like you had began disassociating. No pain made you relax as you watched with tiny, salty tears running down your cheeks.

Soon it was over though, you must have passed out when you saw the amount of blood flowing. You had never done this before. The numbness was still there in your arm, but two stitches now decorated it. There wasn't much you could do, aside from torturing yourself further by ripping open the stitches. You weren't sure about your willpower to do that though as you looked to see your captor sitting near you as he was reading something.

Your throat was dry as you looked at Ludwig, knowing he probably didn't know you were awake. He seemed zoned in on it as he leaned into his hand, which held his jaw.

"Ludwig?" You murmured with a bit of hesitation and those blue eyes were on you. The same intense eyes that always saw through you. Saw through everything, every facade, layer of skin and sinew, into your very soul it seemed. It was odd and disturbing.

"Oh, Liebling, you're awake. How are you feeling?" He moved closer as his hand touches your face. No longer gloved. It was warm and firm, real. This was real.

"I just, I want to go home." You whispered, teary eyed as he rubbed your cheek.

"You are home, darling." His lips were in yours again and locked into something more passionate than you had expected. The way he was now pressed up against you was suffocating and you were dragged directly into this kiss. It was… Sinfully delicious. You did like Ludwig, you did have something there twisting inside you. It was your battling mind that whispered how much better it could be if you were just… Malleable to his wishes, willing and wanting.

Dragging his hands through your hair as you were taken into a kiss of teeth, lips, spit and need before you bite him. His lip bleeding before he did the same, blood mixing with yours. It was messy and drove you to become a panting wreck.

You didn't want to be here. None of this was normal, but you weren't sure how you would be considered normal either. This was safety to you. Hate filled kissing, despising in silence. Your mother did it and who said you would wind up any different. There was no saving anyone here. Your legs were adjusted and spread.

Bodies pressed against one another as you panted, his hands pulling your hair and making noises babble out of your mouth. It was the air that passed slowly over your privates before Ludwig was in between your legs as you feel the growing excitement between the two of you.

His hand ripped away the gown as it exposed your naked body, hands moving to your chest as he carefully began to touch you. You were eager to respond to those touches as he moved his mouth away from yours. Your lips ached, probably bruised and bleeding as his own latched onto your nipple. The other was toyed with as you reeled. "Please, please, please, Ludwig."

You feel his finger dance between your thighs, rubbing them before sliding them against your lips. He groaned before slipping in a finger, thicker than yours and the sensation of it curling made you twitch. More, you needed more.

"Liebling, tell me. Do you feel just how much you want me or are you just trying to ignore it? Your body is honest, betraying you completely. How does it feel? Knowing you're squeezing and lubricating yourself up just for me?" He was rubbing your clit as he continued to add fingers. Three were in as you began to buck your hips and moan.

"Such a slut, if I had known how you wanted me. I would have done this long ago. Everyone has needs und I would have gladly taken care of yours. Go on, beg for it. You've been so good so far, I want to hear it."

Your face was flushed as the way his words struck more in you than you thought they would. It was not enough. "A-ah, Ludwig, please, I just, I want you. I don't care, I want you right now!" You gasped and writhed beneath him, whining when he pulled his hand out of you. Emptiness was so overwhelming as he wiped his hand on your thighs, spreading them wider.

You craned your neck to look down, but were shoved back. His hand gripping the side of your head to keep you down, his other rubbing the something blunt and firm against your labia. It was nudging your clit and making your whimpers come out again. "Ludwig, please."

He pushed in, making you groan along with him. Quiet grunts sounded above you as he spoke in low, harsh german. It was… You loved it. Adjustment was small, but he didn't seem to mind your slight discomfort as he only could feel bliss at the tight, hot grip your walls provided. Soon he was rutting into you and his hands held underneath your knees, pushing your thighs against your torso. You couldn't move yourself with him overwhelming you and the restraints still on your upper body. You wish you could wrap your legs around him though as your dragged your nails down his back. Draw blood and make him scream along with you.

Battering your walls, his teeth and lips met you shoulders and neck. Digging in and sucking hard. Covering you in marks of ownership, making you cry as he drove you insane. He was cursing and whispering in a low, nasty tone. You could find him slipping into English again though. "Mine, you're going to be mine forever, Liebling. Mmm.."

He was panting above you as he continued to do more shallow thrusts, just enough to drive you close to your edge as you cried out below him. "Cum on my cock, do it. I want to feel how you can't take it anymore. Go on, Liebling. Go ahead."

He hissed as you did cum, your own moans spilling out, "Ludwig, Ludwig, a-ah, oh my god. That, ah, you- Fucking hell! Pleasssee…" You panted and grunted as Ludwig's voice lowered into your ear.

"I'm so close, I'm going to make you my own. I won't ever let anyone take you away. My most valued possession, my sweet liebling. A-ah hng…" He let out little pants as he got closer, his face twisting as he pulled out and moved his hand along himself. His body tensing as hot ropes of cum painted your stomach as you panted and laid with satisfied exhaustion fading away. Horror filling you as Ludwig loomed over you, wiping your stomach off and undoing your restraints.

"(Y/N), I'll need to clean zhe bites on your neck und after a rest. We'll get you to a bathroom, but for now. If only you knew how beautiful you look. Oh, my sweet liebling."

[suchahautemess]

I love Khloe but she needs to shut the fuck up and stop putting all the blame on Jordyn. Yeah it's fucked up what she did but who kissed who first? TRISTAN KISSED JORDYN FIRST!!!! Stop shading Jordyn and take responsibility for what he's done and fucking put that man-whore on blast!! Same things goes for Malika, Kim and Larsa too. Yeah Jordyn shouldn't have went to Tristan's house knowing what he's done in the past and yes she should have told Khloe what happened as soon as that happened but still she isn't all to blame.

Blame Tristan, HE'S the one that broke up YOUR FAMILY last April not Jordyn. HE'S the one that cheated on you while you were pregnant with his child. HE'S the one that kissed your little sister's best friend. I'm not the one to give relationship advice or judge anyone's relationship from the outside looking in but she should've left his punk ass a long time ago especially since his baby mama told her that he's a fucking cheater and won't give up his side-chicks for nobody. At first i had sympathy for Khloe but now i think she's a fucking dumbass.

It doesn't matter if he's the father of your child, do you want your daughter to grow up and think that it's ok for men to treat her poorly, disrespect her and violate her trust but yet still get taken back time and time again just because he says he's sorry and sends her some fucking roses?

Fuck no. Fuck that whole bullshit and narrative. You should show your daughter how a women should be treated and find a man that would actually treat you good. Khloe had a few good men in her life like French Montana or James Harden but she didn't stay with them for whatever reason.

Just because you have a child together that doesn't mean you have to be together, what a happy child needs is for her two parents to happy and get along with each other regardless if they are together or not.

My parents did nothing but agrue with each other when they were together and was unhappy but when mom finally came to her senses and stop putting with my dad's BS and left him, both of my parents were happy and so was i. My dad got his shit together on his own and at his own pace, doing it because he wanted to and not because he needed to cause my mom gave him an ultimatum. Their break up really made my life a better.

Khloe has serious daddy issues and poor self-esteem amd doesn't realize her worth by being with men that treat her like shit and try to defend them when people call them out on their bullshit.

If Khloe takes Tristan back again then she's dumber than i thought. Like how times does it take for you to see that he's no good? Even your own family and closest frienda tried to warn you about him but you didn't listen.

I hate to say it but she brought this on herself years ago for dating him in the first place like i mean if the man's baby mama tells you to stay away from him and not because she wants him back is a pretty big fucking red flag.

Khloe, get your shit together and focus on raising your daughter. Especially since you acted like a single mother while you and Tristan was together anyway. Get over him and yourself. Apologies to Jordyn and move on.

[quaylinsims]

True to his word, Henry had the coach driver stop in a town on the way to his cousin's house. At first glance, it was super cute and historic. Everything looked to be from around the Civil War era. Much like Henry's suit and the stagecoach and the "roads" and...

Henry bought a newspaper and asked where one could go to find a pre-made dress for a little girl. He was directed to a corner shop. When we got there, I looked out and noticed the dresses and everything else were also from the 19th century. Henry's newspaper said 1850.

My heart began racing, and my head began pounding. Thoughts started flashing through my mind: How did I end up in 1850? That shouldn't be remotely possible! How do I get home? Can I get home? Do they have plumbing? Does my family know I'm gone? I hate those ruffly hoops skirts. How do I live in an era where women can't even vote? Does my family think I'm dead? Will I ever get home?

I started hyperventilating. Henry patiently waited for me to calm down, and I knew he had no idea how to help. Still, he tried. He put a cautious hand on my back and rubbed it slowly, gently.

Think! Think! One thing at a time! I need to wear clothes. This man is helping me. One thing at a time.

I slowly regained my composure and let Henry know I was ready to go.

Inside, the shop was very girly. The man behind the counter greeted Henry, who in turn said he needed to buy me a few dresses.

A few? Wow.

The man finally looked at me in my tent, his eyes widening. He quickly glanced back at Henry as if to size him up, but the latter was calm as ever.

Soon, I was trying on dresses.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields .s book, and Henry gave him some money.

"I really appreciate this, Henry," I said when we were back in the coach.

"Mr. Baldwin."

"What?"

He sighed.

"It is inappropriate for a young girl to call a man by his first name. Honestly, child, did no one teach you manners?"

Shit. I really messed that one up. That's right. 19th century. I have to be proper. I've read a lot of period novels and watched a lot of period tv. Thank you, Bridgerton. I can do that.

"Apologies, Mr. Baldwin," I correct. "I can do better. Your generosity is deeply appreciated."

I even bowed my head a little and offered a sheepish smile. He looked stunned at my reversal.

"That is much improved," he said. "Now then, Miss Swan, we will be going to my cousin's house. He is Mr. Tobias Nickelby. He has many... people in his... employ... I trust you will be well-behaved?"

"Of course, Mr. Baldwin."

He nodded and fell silent, reading his newspaper. I recalled some genealogical research I had done and the newspapers I had searched for obituaries. They published a lot of local social news, like who was passing through, who was visiting whom, whether my grandparents' homing pigeons made it back to Cleveland. I smiled and quietly chuckled to myself at the memory. I wondered what was in this newspaper.

We had to stay in an inn that night. We weren't far from Mr. Baldwin's cousin's house, but it was too far to venture further in the night. He rented me my own room for my privacy. I was grateful. It did not take me long to fall asleep, what with the eventful day and all.

We were back on the road in the early morning, eating breakfast at dawn and heading out of town. By noon, we were almost there.

"Now remember, Miss Swan, you are to call my cousin Mr. Nickelby."

"Yes, of course, sir."

He smiled.

We took a turn east. Thick trees on the right, vast fields on the left. There were men and women out working in the fields, wielding tools and carrying baskets.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields and we turned down the long driveway.

To call Mr. Nickelby's home a house was an understatement. It was a lovely mansion. Lovely until I got a closer look around me. All the workers wore tattered clothes, and none was white. Except for the odd fellow here or there just standing around barking at the others.

I wanted to cry. This was the past. I knew that. This was 1850. Of course slavery was still a thing. But to see it...

"I don't want to be here!"

Mr. Baldwin quickly turned his head at my outburst.

"I can't!"

"What ever is the matter with you?"

Mr. Baldwin sounded more surprised than upset.

"Th-this," I stammered, tears beginning to fall. "This is-isn't ri-ight!"

He looked out as we neared the plantation house's front.

"You are not wrong, child," he nearly whispered. "But we must be respectful of our host."

I wasn't sure if I could do that. I shook my head.

"How is your imagination? Can you pretend they are not there?"

I must have given him quite the stare because he looked back at me with shock.

"Remember your manners."

His tone was almost scolding, but before I could say anything, he was hopping out of the coach.

Mr. Nickelby -- whose formal name I use out of respect for Mr. Baldwin, not the vile filth that owned humans -- greeted his cousin with a roaring "Welcome!" Mr. Baldwin gestured to the coach, and said something about me. The former waved a greeting in my direction and escorted Mr. Baldwin inside.

I had to leave the coach.

I stepped foot onto a working plantation, and I shuddered. I knew from school and documentaries and movies how frighteningly awful they could be. I looked around for something that didn't seem tainted by malevolence, and I saw a small tombstone under a tree.

"That there was Mrs. Nickelby's favorite tree," said a voice behind me.

I turned to find a beautiful woman in a yellow dress and an apron standing about four feet away. I could just make out a scar on her left brow under her hair and a tattoo on her right wrist. She caught me staring at it.

"Come, Miss. There is a room for you."

She led me upstairs to a very frilly room.

"Thank you," I said, my voice catching in my throat.

I caught sight of her tattoo again. I knew it was a brand. I wanted to cry again.

"I am so, so sorry," I say, trying not sob.

"I'm surprised you care, Miss. If I may say so."

"Of course you may. And I promise you: this will all end one day."

She gave me one of those looks adults give children when they've said something so innocent that their naivity is both adorable and sad. I knew this look; I'd given it to my nephews. It broke my heart that she didn't have that hope.

I did not go down to dinner that night. For the next three days, Mr. Nickelby entertained Mr. Baldwin, and I ate what little I could in my room. I never met his daughter, and she never tried to introduce herself to me. Though I understood we were about the "same" age.

Finally, Mr. Baldwin knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He entered, took one look at my I-just-finished-ugly-crying face, and frowned.

"What has you so upset, child?"

I couldn't talk about how I was stuck 171 years before my "present" and so far removed from those I cared for, but I felt I could possibly mention the horrors I knew about and even had seen from my window. I took a deep breath.

"I hate this place," I admitted. "Enslaving humans beings, it's just so wrong!"

He pulled the chair from the corner to the side of the bed.

"Just yesterday, I saw an overseer whip a man so violently that--"

I had to pause. I didn't think I had more in me.

"It was awful. The crack of the whip. The blood. I could tell what it was even at night."

I buried my face in my hands and tried some deep breathing exercises.

"I am sorry, Miss Swan. No child should have to see that."

I looked up at Mr. Baldwin.

"No human should have to endure that," I answered.

My tone was harsher than I would have liked it to be, but Mr. Baldwin didn't show any shock or disppointment.

"Well, we will be leaving in the morning," he said, rising from the chair. "Hopefully you will feel better once we are on our way."

Through the lens of the 21st century, it nearly enraged me that he wasn't more upset by things. Everywhere I looked, everything I saw reminded me that I was in 1850, yet I could not wrap my head around what I knew to be an ass-backward, hateful, ignorant way of life.

It was somewhat of a relief that Mr. Baldwin at least also disagreed with what those in the south were doing.

It took two weeks to get to Philadelphia. I was relieved to be in the North. I was just about to ask Mr. Baldwin if I would be staying with him.

"I have written ahead to a cousin of mine here in Philadelphia," he told me over breakfast. "She is a teacher at a school for girls, and I have secured you a room there."

I was stunned.

"Do not leave your mouth hanging open, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Baldwin. I'm just surprised."

"Why? You can read. You are an intelligent girl. Why shouldn't you go to school?"

Well, I can't disagree. I've always loved school, but it's a little elementary for me, my dear Baldwin. I do have advanced degrees.

"You are always so generous, Mr. Baldwin. I wish I deserved it."

"I will leave you with an allowance, and I will send more regularly."

I was speechless. This sort of kindness always made me feel uncomfortable, and I couldn't understand why anyone would want to dote on me.

"Why are you so kind to me, Mr. Baldwin?" I asked quietly.

He smiled and placed his napkin on the table.

"Come, I want to make a stop first."

The stop, it turned out, was for me. Mr. Baldwin took me to a bookstore on our way to the school and told me to pick out anything I wanted. Of course, the books I really wanted to read weren't out yet. But I found a few.

"This may be the most generous thing you've done for me yet," I smiled.

"I'm glad you're happy," he he said with a chuckle. "We are near the school, so you can always come back here."

"Oh, I will."

I wondered about the possibility of somehow getting home and bringing some mint condition first editions with me.

He wasn't wrong; the school was very close. His cousin, much nicer to look at and not a slaver, welcomed us in. She was warm and comforting, not unlike Mr. Baldwin. He left as night fell.

She showed me to my room, which I would share with another girl, Anne. Anne was quiet and very hard to get to know; she mostly ignored me. When I wasn't in class, I was often upstairs reading, sometimes under my blanket, but only when the sun was bright through the windows.

I received regular letters from Mr. Baldwin and his wife, which I did not expect. She seemed like a lovely woman to know. I hoped I would get a chance to meet her.

The Baldwins went to Boston for the holidays. Mrs. Baldwin's father was there, and he was ill. I was glad she had a chance to visit with him. I was homesick, too. I wondered how my mother was and if the nursing home was treating her kindly.

I frequently visited the bookstore, found a few others, and scanned newspapers for any bizarre stories that could be like mine. But to no avail. I had no other way to figure out how to get home.

Late in the spring, I received a letter from Mrs. Baldwin inviting me to stay at their home for the summer months.

[welcome-to-sharomuzu-hell]

Meet the participants! (2/16)

Once again, template taken from RosenThorns! Check 'em out! — MonoMod.

|Basics|

Name: Nobuyuki Atari.

Aliases: Nobu-chan (by Airi), Shinozuka Hatsuharu (pen name for romance novels).

Gender: Male.

Age: 17 (presumed).

Birthday: August 21st.

Height: 5"0' (154cm).

Weight: 95lbs (43kg).

Appearance: He has a slim, small body, making him look calmer, effeminate, almost, with a thin, elegant face. He has vibrant yellow eyes, unlike his sister, with her pale yellow eyes. Nobuyuki has shoulder-length black hair, which he usually wears in a ponytail on the back of his head; it's incredibly messy despite his attempts to keep it in an acceptable state, and his bangs always fall into his eyes, often disrupting his work. However, when he cut it off, they kept rubbing his forehead, so he decided to pin it with a hairpin — apparently a gift from a friend. He always wears an eyepatch in his left eye for some reason.

Another one to whom Picrew was terrible. Stay strong, warrior. 😔👌👏👊

Personality: Nobuyuki is a cold, pessimistic boy, who is generally rather calm and doesn't seem to care whether or not people agree with the things he believes in or thinks. He initially comes off as confident, but is later revealed to have self-esteem issues, often comparing himself to his twin sister, a famous geisha, who was kept as the heiress to the geisha family they were born in while he was put up to adoption for being a boy. His mother seemed to despise men more than anything else, and expressed that to him on his only visit to their geisha house. When Izamu was being treated poorly by Rei, the aerialist, for being a "dirty boy", Izamu noted how angrily defensive Nobuyuki became.

Nobuyuki has an extreme grudge against his birth family and uses their last name as a mean to show his spite, and how he "hasn't forgotten about them". He is much more tolerant to those who don't know his family or don't call him by his last name. Despite seeming to be closer to other men, he doesn't tolerate any sort of perverted actions from other boys or extremely stupid behavior, often being the one to call out his classmates for doing things like spying on the girls. His insecurity often leads him to just accept whenever someone insults him, but he's quick to defend those who defended him before or who he knows don't deserve it. He reveals that he often writes about protagonists who defend their friends and never waver on their beliefs, but are extremely insecure on their core, because of how he thinks writing shouldn't be just a mean to express ideas, but to express how the writer feels.

Nobuyuki believes that no one could have any sort of positive emotion towards him, with his lack of worth and his "terrible personality", but he often feels lonely when alone and tries to find someone who can just silently stay by his side while he writes or does something at random. He really wants to be appreciated and respected, and to prove that he's good enough for the Atari family name, despite his hatred towards how the family works and the beliefs they raise their children with. Nobuyuki has troubles trusting even those who are the closest to him, and needs constant reassurance that they care and love him, and often does the same as a way to show his mutual love and trust for them despite his insecurities.

Status: Alive (for now!).

Affiliation: Sharomuzu High School, class 101.

Previous Affiliation: Atari Family.

|Relationships|

Parents

Biological mother: Sakura Atari.

Biological father: Unknown.

Foster mother: Yui Sakamoto.

Foster father: Hayato Sakamoto.

Siblings

Half-sisters: Haruto Atari, Erica Atari.

Twin sister: Kaoru Atari.

Relatives: His relatives are all from the Atari family, and he disregards their existence with all of his might.

Friends: Izamu Adachihara, Airi Chisaka.

Romantic Interest: None (yet!).

|Abilities|

Talent: Ultimate Detective Novelist/Mystery Writer.

Talent Description: Nobuyuki acquired his title through his immense popularity as a writer, the numerous awards he received with his books, having millions of people reading whatever he wrote and anxious for more stories with his amazing protagonists, most importantly Kenshin Edogawa, who, in his books, is "Kogoro Akechi's successor as a detective". He writes, as Nobuyuki, about marvelous mysteries that can only be cracked open by the most intelligent and perceptive of the readers, his fans creating numerous sites and forums dedicated to solving his fictional cases; he has worked, as well, with the police to help them in murders, with his great knowledge on the subject. As Shinozuka, he is only behind Toko Fukawa as the greatest romance novelist in all of Japan. He started writing for the fun of it, being a fan of murder mysteries. It made him quite the skilled detective, though he considers that just a hobby, and gave him knowledge on criminal behavior through searching and working as a detective himself, besides anatomical knowledge and various information about history, geography, human behavior, politics and such themes that he has to portray in his books.

Mental Abilities: The most perceptive and strategic out of all the participants. He's good at puzzles and games that surround solving something, putting all of his efforts into doing the best job into uncovering all the truth and doing it quickly. He has a fair amount of intelligence when it comes to domestic tasks, but is way better at codes, riddles and mysteries.

Physical Abilities: Nobuyuki is well trained in taekwondo, despite not having much natural strength. He depends more on his strategies than on his body, but he knows exactly how to use it, why, when and what to use it for. He has pretty good stamina, but wouldn't stand for as much time as an athlete would. His resistance isn't the highest, but good enough to put up a fight.

|Killing Game Status|

Participated: Currently participating in the Killing Cruise Trip! As of now, one of the 16 living participants~!

|History|

The little bit of his past that you need to know, for now: he was put in the orphanage as soon as his mother didn't have to give him food herself, since her whole family is an Utopia of women who hate men and work as geishas, swore that he'll prove himself better than them and was adopted by a loving family, but never forgot how the Atari family wronged him. Want more? You'll have to wait, impatient brat!

---------------------------------------------------

Finished again? Cool! Now we have 14 more to show you, before the big beginning!

[awed-frog]

The frustrating thing for me, when people use Dean's issues to point out WHY he handles emotional situations badly is that the sympathy isn't with the people that suffers because of it (like Cas). It's with Dean. An explanation for Dean's behaviour shouldn't become a justification. If Dean loves Cas but treats Cas badly, why should we root for this relationship? Him almost killing Cas is about CAS' suffering, not his. But his reaction is not about what Cas deserves, but about his wants. IMO etc.

I’ve been trying to come up with something clever about this ask for a few days, but I got nothing, so I’m just going to tell you what’s going through my mind in the clearest possible way.

1) The viewers will often have a favourite and defend them to the death, and if you find it frustrating, there’s not much you can do other than unfollow people or blacklist some tags. I understand where you come from - I also get annoyed when people justify everything’s a character’s ever done, even the most twisted and problematic things, just because they like him or her. To be honest, I think I stopped caring when I saw a discussion about how Tate Langdon was the perfect boyfriend - some part of my soul just shrivelled and died and I decided that yep, some people are batshit insane and most people get unreasonable around stuff they love, and what can you do about it? 

2) If you’re talking about the writers/creators of a show, on the other hand, I think it’s important to remember where is our POV and what kind of story those people are telling. Like, Supernatural is not House of Cards: whatever he does, Dean will be written as sympathetic, and since we see this world (mostly) from his POV, everything is reflected back on him. I know some people get angry about this - characters getting killed to make the Winchesters feel bad, or simply to advance the plot - but that’s how you tell a story (everybody does the same thing, and if you don’t see it, it means they’re doing their job right). Your main characters are the ones who matter, and the ones whose emotions we care about. So, even when it comes to someone as important to the story as Cas is, Dean will get most of the plot, and this is just how things work.

The next point might upset some people, so I’ll place it under a cut. Stay safe.

3) On placing sympathy on the abuser, rather than the victim - I think there are several reasons for this. One is that, traditionally, our stories in the West are about the conquerors and the victors, not those who have been defeated (when Euripides wrote a tragedy about the Trojan noblewomen being sold off as slaves after the war, people were not happy, and that play is still controversial today). At the same time, we all realize, because we’re not psychopaths, that violence is not nice, and that’s how you end up with this compromise narrative best summarized by Frankie Boyle.

Another aspect of this is that many victims are women (or people ‘outside’ a community, such as queer people or POC), and many abusers are men, and, again, traditionally we give less weight and importance to the feelings and wellbeing of women than we do to those of men. Combine that with the fact many storytellers (I use the term loosely) are men, and you get where we are today: a story about a woman being beaten by her husband is ‘boring’ and not something the audience will want to watch, but the story of a tortured man who can’t help but beat his wife because demons is ‘interesting’ and worth everyone’s attention.

Finally, I think there’s a combination of these two factors in play as well - we mostly want to see stories about people acting, not reacting; about people being brave and fighting and winning, because we generally identify with the main character and we want some sort of happy ending for them. And the problem is - a victim of violence who overcomes this violence - that can still be perceived as a bleak story, right, because abusers are often a solid part of the community (husbands and fathers in family dramas, soldiers and commanders in war movies), which means that this kind of stories are, in their very nature, unsettling and revolutionary, because what they’re telling you is that the community was wrong in trusting those people. It’s no wonder, really, that Francesco Rosi’s Uomini contro was threatened, sued, and had great trouble to find distribution in Italian cinemas: despite being a movie about a century old war, it sided - very clearly - with the soldiers who’d been brutalized by their own commanders, and while the situation was well-known and mostly accurate from a historical point of view, the backlash was still enormous. And this is the same reaction you get, not only towards fictional stories, but about real ones too. All those murder-suicides - ‘normal’ men killing their wives and children before shooting themselves - both the media and the public’s reaction is inevitably incredulity and a refusal to dig deeper. We want to believe our societies are healthy and we want to believe that men (unlike women, those fickle and untrustworthy creatures) are mostly right about everything, and this is what we get as a result. We’re so good at ignoring violence it sometimes comes back to haunt us (is it just me or all the latest US shooters had priors of domestic violence?). So, you see - a man coming to terms with his own anger and becoming a better person, that’s an inspiring story we’re all okay with; but a woman standing up to her husband, that’s a bit different. There’s a seed of revolt there, a sort of If she did it, why can’t I? that we really don’t want people to see.

(In case it’s not clear, I’m violently against all of this. I’m sick of this kind of stories, and I do think that we need some waking up and some revolution in our communities.)

4) You say an explanation shouldn’t mean a justification, and I totally agree, but I also think it’s hard to do this right, both IRL and in fiction, because the more you know about someone, the more you empathize with them, which means any villain can become redeemable with the right background story - just ask Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2. As for Dean and Cas, I don’t think Dean ever justified his own behaviour; in fact, he even atoned for it, in his own Dean way, when he allowed a crazed Cas to beat him up and insisted in keeping the bruises. It wasn’t perfect, but, then again, neither is Dean.

5) Why should we root for this relationship if Dean treats Cas badly - does Dean really treat Cas badly? I don’t think so. Dean is a MESS, all capitals. He tries his best, and I really feel for him, but the truth is, he doesn’t know how to do this. As far as we know, he didn’t have any friends or significant relationships growing up, and by the beginning of the series, the only person he seems to connect to in any healthy way is Bobby. Honestly - it takes years for Dean, who grew up as a soldier and a conman and a loner and never had a right to his own childhood and a life that wasn’t taking care of his brother and helping out his father, to get better at this. And, sure, the relationship with Cas is no different - at the beginning, Dean is confrontational, a sarcastic little shit, occasionally cons Cas into having his way - but the magic of what happens between them is that pretty soon, all of Dean’s traditional walls and posturing take a step back. What’s really special here is that Dean is honest with Cas in a way he isn’t with anyone else, and despite the fact he loves Cas so fiercely, he mostly tries to respect his decisions, and is never harsh with him if not in very extreme circumstances. Personally, the one moment between them I truly hated was Dean’s Nobody cares that you’re broken, because, OUCH - looking back, I can see that this was Dean channelling John, but still - it was an incredibly dickish thing to say (and it must have haunted Dean in Purgatory, especially since, as far as he knew, Cas had died - because of him). As for the rest of it - I doubt we’ll ever have fluffy lines between them, but that doesn’t mean they’re not incredibly soft with each other. I don’t know if you were referring specifically to S12E19, but Dean pushing Cas against a wall in anger - that’s not abuse. He knows he can’t hurt Cas (physically) unless he really tries, so that scene was about Dean needing to put his hands on Cas, to feel him, to make sure he was there and he was okay; and also a harmless way to let his frustration out, to say what he doesn’t know how to put into words (that he cares, that is, and that he doesn’t need Cas to bring him back any win, the dumbass, because that’s not what actually matters). And maybe that reaction doesn’t seem soft to you, but this is Dean Winchester, right, the killer even demons are afraid of and the guy who basically doesn’t trust anyone - Cas just spent weeks MIA, never bothered to call, didn’t tell them he had a line on Kelly, stole the Colt form Dean knowing full well how much that weapon meant to him, collaborated with Heaven without telling him one word about it - and, on the whole, Dean’s not even angry. He’s worried, and he’s frustrated (with Cas; with himself), but he understands why Cas did what he did, and that makes all the difference. 

“Dude, if anybody else - I mean anybody - pulled that kind of crap, I would stab them in their neck on principle. Why should I give him a free pass?”

“Because it’s Cas.”

You know - I always felt that for Dean, who’s always been coded as the ‘female’ character both with Sam and with Cas, the Mark of Cain was the ultimate undoing precisely because it took from him all those ‘feminine’ traits which are such a profound part of who he is. The fact that it all culminated in him beating the hell out of Cas, in a reversal of their traditional ‘fights’ (I’m inverted commaing this because most of those happened under some sort of mind control, so they weren’t really fights), was, in a way, a complete assertion of his new role of Alpha Male - while Cas had stepped back into a more traditional ‘feminine’ role the whole season. In this sense, I understand that the narrative focused way more heavily on Dean, because he was the one acting out of character and doing ‘weird’ things - but ideally, yes, I would have wanted to know what that beating meant for Cas, what he was thinking as he healed himself, and everything else. So, yeah - it’s a mess, and it’s not a traditional love story, perhaps, but I still think they’re right for each other and they do make each other happy, so personally, I’m rooting for them. There are tons of abusive relationships on TV that are passed off as normal, even romantic, but this isn’t one of them.