#like she doesn’t have anything she doesn’t not status anymore not family not even a body all she has is memory

[lanayrru]

all zelda does time and time again is try to save people who won’t listen to her and it leaves her time and time again having to sacrifice her own body literally give up her body to contain something it was not made for and she has to mould and shape herself endlessly in order to be the vessel she is forced to act as .

[gremlingottoosilly]

That Unwanted Animal [COD Fantasy AU] CursedKnight!Ghost x fem!Reader

Ghost was cursed ever since his king helped him get back to life from his grave. A stench of death, strong and inescapable, renders him unable to find a woman who will be willing to bed him. What will happen when he finally finds a perfect mate? CW and Tags: Dub-con, power imbalance, Medieval Fantasy AU, knight!Ghost, servant!Reader, sex work, brothels, dub-con kissing and touching, obsessive Ghost, dark Ghost, basically Ghost finds a girl and forces her to be his, Ghost is a half-dead resurrected knight, soft reader, submissive Reader.

AO3 Word Count: 2209

“I won’t go to him, he smells!”

“Drop the act, princess, not even half of our guests reek of anything more than their drinks and foul meat.” 

“You know how he smells, Katherine. You know what he is.” “What he is, is a client. Rich one. Do you wish to moan under the belly of another failing merchant? Or a peasant’s dick is more to your liking?” “I bring this place more than half of its earnings! I won’t bed a man who has barely got out of his grave and should be put back!” Ghost sighs, his head pressed against the wooden wall. For a brothel, this place has remarkably thin walls. For a brothel, girls out here have remarkably potent noses – and acquired tastes for anything that doesn’t taste like a man who was brought back to life with dead souls still clinging onto every inch of his very being. 

For a man of his regals – the blessed knight, the cursed knight, the kiss-your-enemies-goodnight, the spill-your-blood-he might, he has a particular choice in the brothel he tried to entertain himself with. Not like any willing woman would bed him without a sum of gold enough to feed a family for months – and not like he stood low enough to force himself on poor servants of his castle, bringing his dignity and family name down with each handmaiden he tried to grope while on meeting with the king. 

“Do you think he is really dead?” “Dead man wouldn’t need a cunt to drown himself in. He had to have something working.” “Maybe he likes to watch? Or to hurt.” “Maybe, we can’t afford to turn him down, princess. Drop your act before he is willing to burn us down for refusing him.” “Well, I heard he went through every brothel in town. Not a single soul bedded him!” “I heard he doesn’t even like girls. Has his royal knight by his side all day.” “He came alone.” “He will be coming alone for the rest of his life with a smell like this!” “Dark magic. King should have known to not trust the Empire and their lurkings.” “Having a blessed knight is good, no? We’re not at war.” “Cursed knight is good in your army, not your bed. But if you are so willing…”

He hears women – from the madam of this fine place, a woman of fine manners, exquisite figure, and the way of looking at him that almost convinces that she doesn’t want to press her fingers against her nose, blocking the smell of death that follows him ever since he became…that. He hears girls of not-so-fine manners, with fine bodies and perfect pretty faces, gentle hands that don’t know about the trials of war. He remembers the way they looked at him – the way they always looked at him. 

Scary, horrendous, dangerous. A skull mask and dark tendrils of smoke follow his body, the Grim Reaper himself embedded in his dark armor. No matter how many perfumes he uses, no matter how many washes per day he forces himself onto, nothing can hide the stench of death. He thought he’d be fine with it as long as his battle brothers were with him – as long as he was with them. 

Then he got lonely. 

Finding a lay in the brothel would be a scandal for a man of his status – but Simon Riley is no man. Not anymore, at least. 

“I bet he wears a mask because he is hideous.” “Maybe he is just wounded?” “What kind of wound would make him hide his face while not being hideous?” “Maybe, he just doesn’t want to show his face here.” “No use. By the dawn, all women in the capital will know about great lord Riley, refuced at every brothel.” “What if he kills us?” “What if he burns us?” “What if he…” “Let the servant bring him tea. Make her useful.” Before he could react – as if eavesdropping on a bunch of whores was something of a pleasant chore he was dealing with – a door to his room had opened. Girl, in much simpler clothes than the ones that courtesans were wearing. With a tea tray in her shaky hands, grabbing the poor thing like there was no tomorrow. Huh. Perhaps, with a mug like his as her client, there is no tomorrow for a poor girl. 

Ghost sits on the bed, large, muscular legs spread, his dick swaying with attention the longer he is looking at your face. He can’t be picky, not in his state as a not-dead not-man, but he has to admit that you’re pretty. Without all the mannerisms of a prostitute, you look like a poor deer stuck in the predator’s den. Your hands are shaking – but he looks at your face, having no shame in drinking up your expression like a vampire – and he didn’t once saw you wince at the smell. Hm. Must be potent tea you’re serving. 

— I didn’t ask for the tea. 

Rude, as always – he didn’t come here to be ridiculed by poor attempts at pleasing him without a girl under him, getting her pretty legs open for his cock. He didn’t intend to come here and listen to all of the workers laughing at him like he was a monster – yet, he can’t leave now, his wounded ego grows into something ugly. 

— Most of our clients prefer to drink this before the…act. It makes them more potent, as they say. 

His cock didn’t have any warm body to dump his semen in years. He doesn’t need tea to make him hard – he sees the glimpse of your skin under those simple robes of yours, and he can already feel it stir, standing up for attention. 

— You don’t sound too certain. Your client must not drink it then. 

— I…I am not a prostitute, sir. Merely a servant. 

He knows already – your makeup is too plain, your manners are off, your clothes are simple grey wool with not a dash of color. If you were his – as a prostitute, a wife, a lover – he would bring you something much brighter and skimpier. You’d look good in silks, he thinks. 

Not like you’d allow him to bring you home – not willingly, at least. 

— So I figured, love. You’re pretty enough to be one, that’s clear. 

“You’re pretty enough to be a prostitute” is a compliment that only sounds good in the head of a man who hasn’t talked sweetly to a woman in ages. His whole life, perhaps, exchanging the embrace of a lady with tight hugs of the war. 

— You’re flattering me, sir. 

— Bloody hell, woman. Not a flattery if that’s the truth. 

— If you say so. 

You shift under his gaze like a rabbit in front of an apex predator. Ghost doesn’t want to force any woman to sleep with him – but he looks at the sway of your chest, at the softness of your hips, at the way you tug and scratch on the rough fabric of your skirt as you’re too nervous to look at him…

He must contain himself. 

— Why you work as a servant? 

— I…tried to be a prostitute, sir. Most clients here don’t like it when you’re not…

He slowly rocks his body closer to you, his head almost laying on your shoulder. He saw the way you looked at him as he leaned to you – you’re surprised, scared, but not disgusted. your nose didn’t twitch a single time, and he is sure that no tea would ever make you this blind to the stench of death lingering on your shoulder now. 

There must be something wrong with you – and he wants to save you like a rare treasure because of it. 

— Most clients here don’t like what, luv? 

— I…have damage, sir. 

So he figured. Just didn’t exactly know what you have. 

— What is it? 

— A…after a bad cold, my sense of smell…never returned. Not for the last three years. 

— You don’t smell anythin’? Must be bloody hard. 

— It is. But…I manage. As much as I can. 

He slowly drapes his hand over your shoulder – you wince at the touch. He thinks of the madam of your fine establishment. The woman didn’t seem the type to beat her girls, but you had such a shy, scared expression as he started to touch you, he can’t wait to burn this fucking place to the ground. Maybe spare a few of your friends if you’d ask him nicely. You won’t be working here again, ever – that much he can be sure of. 

— Doin’ a good job, love. 

— I hope so, sir. 

He drags his hand on your face, squeezing the soft skin of your cheek. You’re adorable – servants shouldn’t be so pretty, it makes him feel bad, it makes him sinful. He should try to hit on the girls who actually work here – not the poor soul that as sent here to bring him here, as a little lam sacrificed to a vicious god. 

— You don’t smell me, then? 

— I don’t smell anything, my lord. 

He chuckles, but your pained expression only makes him chuckle more. Poor thing, living in a place like this without a sense of smell – he can’t believe how you could survive without the smell of heavy incense and creams that all of the whores were using. He loves it when a pretty girl is making herself even prettier – makeup, all of those little elixirs they are putting on their faces, the flowery smells that make his rotting existence a bit easier. It never worked on him, on his disintegrating skin and stench that followed him everywhere – but then it dawned on him. 

You have such an adorable, shy smile and a small posture, playing with the edges of your clothes like a girl who is extremely embarrassed to be in a room with a man of his position. But women aren’t shy in his presence, not anymore – they are disgusted, horrified, they want to put their noses into little candy boxes and smell roses just to get rid of the smell. 

But you, adorable creature, aren’t disgusted. Hell, how he missed a pretty girl being so shy around him. 

Ghost kisses you before he can think of anything else. Before he could give you space to escape, to come to your senses and understand what kind of man he is. Broken, wounded, pushed to the cage, and locked with a key dangling from the side – god knows, Simon Riley isn’t a good man, never tried to be. Devil knows, he will drag you to the grave with him. 

Your lips are soft, untouched, you smell of cleaning supplies and sweet tea. Your hair smells like roses and dust, your hands are covered in little scabs – probably from the days spent cleaning and doing the hard work. He will make sure you will never have to work again, not with your hands, at least – he will kiss your callouses and nourish the skin into something delicate, fragile, to the smell of home he lost long ago. 

Your mouth tastes like heaven, and Ghost isn’t a man who deserves to push this angel further, isn’t a man who deserves to have a pretty girl moaning under him. He makes you cry, he terrifies you, he kisses you relentlessly and can feel the way your skin burns, tears streaming down your face. If he was a better man, he would oblige to your hands, pushing him away, your mouth is trying to cry for help. 

Simon Riley isn’t a good man, and he pushes you on your back, firms hands on your back, on your hips, touching, groping, feeling the skin of a somewhat willing woman. You’re scared, but you should know the kind of job girls here are doing – he didn’t pay all of this money for charity projects, after all. As much as he would pay even more gold just to take you away, to push your legs apart in a scenery much nicer than a room in a brothel. You deserve a real bed, a nice dress that he can rip away from you, 

All you get is his hands on your body, ripping your simple skirt apart because he can’t wait to get to the soft skin underneath. He looks at you, precious girl, as adorable as you are, and can’t resist kissing you, stealing breath from your skin. When he finally hears you moan, when his hand goes to grab the softness between your legs – moist, prepared, smelling of roses and arousal, of all things sweet and sinful – all of his sense of self-control shatters. 

He will take you on the floor of this room – over and over, claim you as his little maiden, his favorite girl, until he is sure his cursed, rotten seed has filled you to the brim. He will take you away, bringing as much money to your madam as he can manage, buying you all for himself – taking you as his prized possession for the new castle he was ordered to as a lord knight. 

Ghost will make you his, hells and heaven be damned. 

You cry, but he knows you’ll come around. And he can be very, very patient. 

[gay-dorito-dust]

My mind is racing right now. I’m just imagining targ!reader who is Rhaenyra’s heir and maybe she’s a realms delight (very politically savvy maybe idk) like her mother was and everyone is trying so hard to get her attention but all she wants is Benjicot and he thinks that he doesn’t have a chance so he doesn’t even entertain the thought of it.

Am I Going Crazy?

No you’re not going crazy anon, I totally understand. I’m just shooting at the hip with with one, so it’s gonna be short and something

The moment you were born the realm fell in love with you just as your family did the second you opened your gorgeous eyes and smiled.

The realms delight was a title once given to your mother when she was younger, was a title now being passed down to you. Everyone from greater house, small houses and even the obscure ones wanted to witness you every smile and every laugh however they could, whether it be on your name day, tourneys or otherwise they all clambered to be in your presence.

‘You had the entire realm at your feet, you could convince the dumb cunt lords and their sons into stupidly plunging into depths of death, should you feel like it.’ is what Daemon says often as to remind you just how much of a hold you held over everyone whereas in a way that your mother didn’t. Or at least not anymore.

You lived relativity with more freedom and leniency then most of similar status, which may have less to you being the core envy for some, but in exchange you were taught by Daemon a plethora of things when came to playing your hand in this game of politics and power. He taught you how to wield a sword and how to keep your opponent guessing your next move, so much so that when training with the likes of Jace, Luke or either Baela and Rhaena you were always ten steps ahead.

Much like your mother, you were granted the privilege to seek out whom ever caught your eye when you were of an eligible age for marriage, so when the news that you offering up your hand in marriage the realm was quick to gather their finest men to speak upon why it is that you should choose them over the others. However none of them were to your taste as some were far too young and could barely pick up a sword, far too old and fat from gorging themselves on wine and food, or just didn’t give a good enough reason for you to marry them other then that they could satisfy you; A line that had them shoved out the door as quickly as they came as you tried to swallow down the bile that rose in your throat.

The Riverlands were beautiful but the reason you came to the Riverlands was for one man and one man only, The new lord of house Blackwood, Benjicot Blackwood. So when you didn’t see the stormy eyed man with the dark hair at the hall you couldn’t help but be a little upset, and so had no choice but to internalise the reasons why and forced yourself to listen to the rest of the men in attendance with a forced look of interest, repressing that restless feeling within your chest to go out and search for him yourself on dragon back if you must.

Soon enough you’ve decided to give yourself a break from it all and wander out to explore of the Riverlands, which was where your marriage tour was currently stationed at, and coming to adore all that you could see in their bright and vibrant colours in comparison to back home. There were Fields that stretched on for miles on end onto the horizon with grass a plenty to feed the cattle, small patches of trees where the birds sung and rested their aching wings and fed on the berries they produce.

Meanwhile with Benjicot he didn’t feel as though he had anything to give to you, the heir and delight of the realm. He was a Lord but there were men of far greater houses then his who could provide you more than he could, and in Benji’s mind he shouldn’t even bother to tempt the idea of you choosing him, not when he knew it was a fight he’ll never win from the beginning. So he didn’t and that hurt him far more then he thought as the idea of not trying, or bothering to try at all would become a regret he would be burdened with carrying for the rest of his life; left alone to ponder in his old age as to what could’ve been had he actually tried.

Oscar and Kermit had tried to convince him into doing something about it but even they couldn’t get his stubborn ass to move an inch, and now both Tully boys could only stand and watch as their friend take his frustrations out on a straw training dummy.

‘This is sad.’ Oscar said as Kermit made a noise of agreement.

‘Very sad.’ Kermit replied as Benjicot moved his attention to another dummy after violently disembowelling the previous training dummy as the straw insides spilled out. ‘He’s probably still wishing that Aeron Bracken was that dummy.’ Kermit then adds as he looks over at his brother, who was doing the exact same.

‘I mean the little twat deserved that pummelling earlier for even thinking he had a chance and now he can’t go because his injuries were too severe.’ Oscar snorted in disbelief before adding on, ‘his uncle knew that if he had let Aeron go in his current state, house Bracken would’ve become a laughing stock of the realm.’

Kermit gave a slight chuckle before looking back at Benjicot and his smile fell from his face. ‘He really likes her…’ he trails off as Oscar’s face now becomes crestfallen and sighs. ‘He does and it easts him up inside that even if he did bother to go, he’d just get rejected regardless.’ Kermit was about to add onto that, when something catches his eye, he spotted a figure emerging from the trees and his eyes widened up seeing it was you and proceeded to smack Oscar in the arm repeatedly.

‘Ow, ow, quit hitting me!’ Oscar said and as he went to hit his brother in the arm as retaliation, his eyes too went wide upon seeing you walking towards them casually.

‘It’s the princess!’ Kermit hissed.

‘Of course it’s the princess dipshit, I’ve got eyes that still see!’ Oscar hissed back.

‘Well obviously he doesn’t!’ Kermit barked as he pointed towards Benjicot, not realising that he just pointed you to the person you’ve been wanting to see most. Meanwhile the lord of house Blackwood was all the more obviously to everything happen, being stuck inside his own head and all, that he didn’t see Kermit and Oscar’s frantic looks over at him as he continued to destroy the third training dummy today nor does he know that you were behind him until you spoke up.

‘What did the training dummies do to deserve such anger?’

Benjicot froze up immediately as he looked out of his eyes at Kermit and Oscar, who were just as frozen to the scene before them as him, as he then took a deep breath and looked over to see that his mind hadn’t been playing him a fool and that you -the realms delight and heir to the iron throne- were actually here in the flesh but why?

You couldn’t help but smile at his shocked expression and tense body language, Benjicot was far more handsome up close than you remembered, all the while still being a shy and awkward but honourable nobleman. ‘Are you alright lord Blackwood? You’re looking a little flustered there.’ You said as you gestured to his cheeks which were burning bright red.

‘Princess, shouldn’t you be on your marriage tour?’ Benjicot asked and already he wanted the ground to swallow him for how stupid he sounded.

‘I am but I’ve decided to put it on hold as to stretch my legs.’ You told him and could see his shoulders deflated a little, ‘besides the person I wished to see most hadn’t shown up, and so I thought that since I am in the Riverlands I shall go seek him out myself instead, drag him back to Raventree hall if I must.’ You then added with a smile as Benjicot’s breath hitched in his throat.

‘And if I may ask princess, but who are you looking for?’ He asks as casually as he could but felt a little under pressure from the looks Oscar and Kermit were giving him as they silently routed for him from a few paces away, his heart elevating even quicker when you took a step towards him.

‘You of course.’ You told him straightforwardly. ‘You were the one person I was hoping to see today.’

‘Why?’ Benji found himself asking without second thought on how it came across. ‘Why me, I have nothing to offer you princess, wouldn’t it be better to have a suitor from a greater house to strengthen your own?’ He didn’t want to believe this was real but also he did want to believe that you had sought him out on your own accord. However this felt too good to be reality, it had to be a dream Benjicot was sure of it, for where else would it be plausible for the person you’ve been yearning after to activity search for him during your marriage tour of all things? It wasn’t something that was even remotely grounded in reality but instead a tale found straight out of an old book.

‘Does it matter as to why I sought you out other then the fact that I’d much rather take you a kind, honourable and honest man, as my husband over some fat cunt of a man?’ You replied as you reached for his hands, desperate to have him trust your words as truth while feeling every one of his calluses press into your hands perfectly, as though the gods made them to hold yours specifically. ‘Does it matter that all I wish to marry out of love and not duty as is expected of me? I am free to marry whoever I wish and I wish for you.’ You add, moving your head so that you could still be in Benjicot’s line of sight when he ducks his head to his chest, seeing you smile so sweetly at him and making his heart leap up into his throat.

‘Tis I where your heart lies princess?’ Benjicot asked softly, not trusting to raise his voice more than a whisper, waiting to wake up from this seamlessly perfect dream. Your smile grew bigger as you pressed your forehead against his own to look him deeper into his stormy eyes that bore an expression of vulnerability and uncertainty. ‘Along with my soul and my mind for countless day, yes, you are where my heart lies Benjicot Blackwood.’ You reassured him, watching the internal conflict within him war against one another for a while before there was nothing but a sweet gleam in his eye.

‘You are where my heart lies too princess,’ Benjicot confessed, pressing his head further against yours with a smile, ‘I’d be more than honoured to be yours.’

You were absolutely glowing upon hearing this as you laughed with pure joy and happiness. your search was over, you had found the one you wanted even though you had to find him first, but that didn’t matter as later that day your marriage tour came to an end as your hand happily secured by one Benjicot Blackwood.

[giuliettagaltieri]

A River of Honey

Pairing: Husband!Gojō x Wife!Reader

Synopsis: Navigating through life with your husband and son who both seemed to have developed an appetite for something only you can provide.

Warning: breastfeeding, mild lactation kink, innuendos

Word Count: 1142

With the two of you being forced into a marriage you did not want, it was difficult to coexist with each other, let alone initiate anything between you.  Your two-year marriage did end up with you having an 8-month old son as Gojō is only a man, ever so vulnerable to the natural charm of a woman.  But aside from sharing a child, you have nothing else that binds you to each other.

But lately, his crystalline blue eyes have been wandering to your ample bosom much too often.

Being in the Gojō estate house, you had to follow a few rules.

One is that you are never allowed to speak ill of your husband and your family.

You must not meet any man unaccompanied.

Entering the council hall is strictly forbidden.

Your hair must be in a specific bun, adorned with ornaments to symbolize status.

And lastly, you must follow the traditional dress code.

Most of the time, you wore kimonos, all having the colors of the Gojō banners.  It was their way of branding you as theirs.  And your husband did not like that.  But you, well it always reminded you of his eyes so you cannot bring yourself to complain.

During the course of your pregnancy, your husband protested about making you wear heavy fabric when it was too hot.  They did not relent.

So, your husband took it upon himself to rid your closet with the intricate kimonos and obi.  He threw them all in the cold of the night through your window, and shot a blast of cursed energy on the pile just for good measure.

From then on, your kimonos were lighter.  You did not have to wear multiple layers.  And even after you gave birth, the clan decided not to test their luck and just let you wear whatever is comfortable for you.  After all, you gifted the family a promising heir.  One that looked exactly like the master of the house, an exact replica of his father.

Gojō leaned on a tree in your garden one day, his legs stretched out in front of him.  He was watching you as you sat by the pond with your little boy on your lap, pointing at the koi fish that swam by.

“No.”  He hears you chuckle.  “We don’t eat them.”

As Gojō expected, a tiny frown forms on your son’s face the moment you said ‘no’, his lips wobbling and he turns to his father as if silently asking for rescue.

You sigh as you stand up.  “Wanna come to dada?”  Upon hearing this, your son hesitates and his tiny fists tighten on your sleeves.  But before he can protest, you drop his bum on Gojō’s lap.

“Hey there, bud.”  Gojō grins but the little boy doesn’t respond to him as his eyes remain trained on you as you sit next to your husband and pick up the book you brought with you earlier.

A poke to your son’s cheek finally made him look at his father, with a slightly irritated look in addition to his in-distressed expression.

“Mama’s not upset.”  Gojō says as he smoothens the hair of the child.  “She’s only teasing.”

Your son thinks for a moment and slumps on his father’s chest, his cheeks squished as he looks at your face.  Waiting for you to confirm it.  But you pretend not to hear as you turn the page on your book.  You’re not going to tolerate this attitude, you don’t need two spoiled Gojōs.

“Lighten up, Satoshi.  We’ll get you a non-koi fish to eat later.”  Gojō tried again, his grin widening every moment.

But Satoshi scowls at his father and shook his head. 

“Oh?  You don’t want to eat fish anymore?”

His son shook his head once more.

“What do you want to eat then?”  Gojō scratched his head.  “Want some taiyaki?”

Satoshi glares at his father.  “No!” 

Gojō’s eyebrows rise slowly.  “Come again?”

A red hue appears on Satoshi’s nose and judging by the large gulp of air he took, a wail is most certainly coming.

“MAMA!”  He bawls, his hands outstretched to you as large tears spill to his cheeks. 

Gojō grimaces, quickly handing you your son.  “Alright go to mama.”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh as you drop your book to the side to cradle your baby.  He buries his face to your chest, soaking your kimono.  You rub his back in a soothing manner.

“What a crybaby.”  Gojō laughs, making his son glare at him behind his tears.

“Don’t listen to dada.”  You smile while smooching Satoshi’s chubby cheek.  “Stop crying now, I’ll ask them to make you something good to eat, okay?”

Satoshi looks at you with apprehension. 

“What?”  You smile sweetly.

He looks away from you and his tiny baby hands play with your kimono making you laugh.

“You have to talk, Satoshi.”  You say even though you know what he’s doing.

“Milk mama.”  He mumbles while he fiddles with his fingers.

After looking around your garden and not seeing anyone, you shift your kimono to the side and unbutton your nursing bra showing your lush breast and still puffy nipple.  Satoshi latches instantly.  His eyes become droopy almost immediately, breastfeeding is becoming a swift sleep inducer to him.

You turn to your unusually quiet husband and see just in time how he stared at your bosom with his pupils dilating as he swallowed audibly.  Warmth ran through your body and you looked away quickly, pretending that you saw none of it.

“That’s really convenient huh.”  He spoke, his voice a few timbres deeper.  “You just unbutton and your teat is out.”

“Mhm.”  You hum as you play with a lint on your lap.

Gojō wets his lips and he tries to look away but his eyes often wander to you every now and then.  You see his leg bouncing slightly in a steady motion.  And his hand raked his hair way too much that it started sticking out to multiple angles.

“I should put Satoshi back in his room.”  You say softly after you unlatched your son and tidied your clothes.

Gojō is quick to stand and offer his hand to you.  “I’ll come too.”

You thanked him and walked side by side with him.  He doesn’t tolerate you walking behind him.  

You smiled at him gratefully as he opened the door to Satoshi’s room and placed the pillows around your son’s crib.  Gojō pretends to look interested in a furby, as your neckline dips while putting your son down.  His heart softened when you smoothed his hair as you whispered, “I love you”.

He guided you out of the room and you are about to head back to your garden when his arm finds your waist and you are being led to your bedroom instead.

“My turn now, mama.”

Where the Blue Roses Grow

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

What WOULD'VE happen if its the jofoes who saw a kid up skirting reader aka their darling?

I know they're villains and is very much cruel, but they wouldn't kill a child...right? (1-8, since the jofoes in P-9 haven't been revealed yet.)

Hmmm I could see a couple of instances of that happening, sadly (but I mean they are villains, but some are more restrained than others, perhaps more for image than anything)

Yandere! Part 1 (Pre Vampire) Dio - I could see this going with him yanking the brats hair and shoving them to the ground. It’s fairly easy for him to maintain his positive status to outsiders, so he could have something happen to them later (but I’d consider this the best outcome for that kid).

Yandere! Post Vampire Dio

Big chance this kid may die by being manipulated by Dio himself, he might decide to turn them/zombify them by apologizing and groveling (chance they could attack their own family). There’s also a chance the kid could just flat out be devoured by the other zombies, the blond wouldn’t even flinch at that. If he’s sorely out of patience he might kill/maim them himself, but it never would come to that. Keep in mind Dio was the type to turn a mother into a vampire and she ended up eating her own child.

Yandere! Kars

Absolutely no cares given about slaughtering a child, not even joking here. He only cares about you, not some slimy brat that decided to pull some nonsense on you. He’d probably lick you clean of the blood afterwards as well. No matter how mad or upset you got, would not make him anymore remorseful for the dead body strewn on the ground.

Yandere! Part 3 DIO

You’d more than likely be held captive in the mansion he’s in, within Egypt so this happening is unlikely. But in the unlikely event something like this happens, he’ll state how brazenly stupid such a move was. Unless he can use the kid in someway, he really doesn’t care what happens to them. So he might “punish” the kid as he sees it fit or have a stand user take care of them.

Yandere! Yoshikage Kira

As long as this kid didn’t see his rather “unusual” indulgences in the past, he doesn’t see a need to murder them right there, though I could see him consider it internally, where the kid wouldn’t be seen. He’s absolutely miffed however, and does grab their hand in a painful way though. Gives them the nastiest glare and reprimand there is, and the kid probably runs off heavily unsettled.

Yandere! Diavolo

Doppio is likely the one to take care of this of course, not that Diavolo he himself isn’t miffed. This probably just makes him consider to keep you locked away somewhere permanently. (This probably happens shortly after this little thing). Doppio makes sure to get it through this kids head, with the harshest grip known to man, that you don’t go doing that to anyone. Let alone anyone he or his boss likes.

Yandere! Enrico Pucci

His reaction is interesting, he is irritated perhaps even a bit visibly by this child’s behavior. He can’t let this kid get away with deciding to upskirt his darling either. He also is a priest image wise, so he has that to consider when punishing this adolescent person. He still has a firm grip on them and decides to take them aside and talk. He’ll face away from you while doing so, and moments later the kid is suddenly apologizing. You can’t tell if Pucci has an uncanny knack for speaking with people or if it’s something else. (It’s likely both).

Yandere! Funny Valentine

He’ll stop this kid almost immediately and there’s a sound of a smack to the back of the head. A stern look and a small speech about respect, Funny Valentine somehow manages to make the kid shame with those words. He wouldn’t let the kid run either and would personally escort them back home to their parents. As busy as he is as a president something childish like that won’t be overlooked by him. There’s a brief dark look in his eye, he can pull the strings to make things happen, he just doesn’t feel the need to expend them here. He does ask you to follow him closer for now on, (maybe an extra guard but he finds it more efficient to be the one to protect you)

Yandere! Toru

He certainly doesn’t appreciate it, and somehow they end up tripping or have some little mishap happen. Yet there’s a bit of a hum in his voice when he tells them he shouldn’t be doing such a thing to people. Any anger or frustration that gets thrown off at Toru, he nonchalantly brushes off. Suggesting the kid apologize, and nothing more will come of it. But there is a stern veiled threat in there somewhere that makes the kid decide to walk off.

[its-your-mind]

what the fuck. what the fuck what the fu k.

rick riordan I am a whole ass adult now how tf are you taking a wrecking ball to my emotions AT THIS POINT. SHOULDN’T WE BE PAST THIS.

what the fuck Meg took in all of her foster siblings to help them live a life after Nero. she’s showing them a world that can be kind, where people will say what they mean, and where mistakes don’t deserve punishment.

BUT THEN ALSO. Apollo. Went back.

And for Meg and her siblings, everything about their lives has changed and improved. But Apollo just… goes back to Olympus. Where Zeus continues to rule with an iron fist, where no one was even able to stick up for him, where every other Olympian lives in fear of Zeus’s anger. And he’s still there, he’s still in charge, but Apollo knows BETTER now. He knows that things can be different. He knows that he can be different, and he’s making the decision to be better now than he was before.

But now he doesn’t fit. He doesn’t fit with the Olympians, who weren’t a healthy family even before this, and he doesn’t fit with his new friends, either, because he’s a god again. He can go see them and talk with them and help them, but he’ll always have to leave again. He can never stay.

The last few chapters of The Tower of Nero were so beautiful and amazing - getting to see everyone else living their happy endings (as much as any demigod can), but they were always tinged with… loneliness. Apollo is separate from them all again. He can teleport at will, he can change his appearance to anything, he can separate his consciousness… and that’s all great, he wanted all of that back…

But by the end? He kind of wanted to stay human. And there’s no resolution for him. He’s gone through this incredible, difficult, terrifying, life-changing adventure… and he came back, and everything’s the same. Kinda makes me think of Luke, going off on his quest, coming back different, harder, sharper… and finding Camp exactly like how he left it, with everyone expecting him to just slot himself back into the place he had before, when that space doesn’t fit him anymore.

And Apollo has what Luke didn’t - friends who knew him as he was changing, who love this new person he’s become, and even a sister whose affection won’t change no matter what happens. He’s going to be okay, I know that.

But there’s just… something so quietly tragic in the end of Apollo’s story. He doesn’t get his own personal happy ending. His “triumph” is a return to a divine status that he’s not necessarily sure he even wants anymore. He has to forge his own path forward towards his own happiness, and we don’t get to join him on it. We got to be with him through his Trials - his future is up to him, now.

[immaturityofthomasastruc]

I once had a idea of a couple of villains which are everything ladybug and cat noir aren’t

The boy is the well mannered and destructive person who’s always honest, The girl is the chaotic and overwhelming person who always has a plan

Yet both hate Ladybug and cat noir for their own reasons

The boy doesn’t hate cat noir but hates liars and abusive people, and when he discovers monarch was Gabriel (threw my kid through Paris) agreste and how the heroes never defeated him, he goes off and accidentally ruins Adrien’s life (also Felix’s life for stealing the miraculous, lying to kagami about it and trying to ruin Adrien’s life, he would break the bird boy’s spine), and even his hero life by using cat noir has a example of a bad hero (abandoning Paris a couple of times, letting his emotions get in the way, never taking things seriously, always flirting and always getting brainwashed for he’s incompetence). None of it is personal for the boy but he admits he doesn’t care if Adrien gets hurt since the boy believes himself to be a bad person and being a villain is his punishment so he acts accordingly despite his intentions of revealing a lie and making a true change to destroy the status quo being quite heroic, Adrien gets a burning rage towards the boy

The girl hates ladybug for how she has everything (friends, family, fame and power) yet when she sees how she treats Adrien (lying to him under the excuse of not hurting him when it’s actually just hurting Adrien more by praising he’s abuser, being superficial since she’ll fall in love with anyone who acts like Adrien/cat walker, and the constant stalker behavior) she’ll make sure to hurt Marinette thinking she doesn’t deserve her perfect life when she was all alone before being turned into a villain and meeting the boy, she’ll at first seem like a pure evil character but she’s just someone trying to survive, she’s actually someone pretty sweet and friendly (at difference of the boy which is quite shy and closed despite it seeming otherwise, she helped him go through his traumas and he’s doing the same for her) and when she sees someone like Marinette having a perfect life and treating her partner like that would be enough to make her into a venom like for who’ll do anything to bring justice while knowing justice is the wrong word since she’s breaking several laws while making a teenager suffer

And the best part is how the two constantly emotionally support each other properly and are better working together than the bug and the cat, they talk about their problems, always talk and go out together, help each other train their powers and everything, a genuine healthy relationship built on trust, care and partnership

The point of the arc against them could be A-fixing Ladybug’s and Cat noir’s flaws and problems and make them a genuinely healthy couple, B-break them up because after everything, is there any chemistry at this point? They are the water and bread of relationships and the only good about their relationship has civilians is the “Will they Won’t they” the writers have exploited for 5 seasons and may keep going for another 5, and after everything they’ve done to each other in and out of the suit I can’t ship this two in the show anymore

But we all know Adrien will never know the truth, they’ll probably never question what happen to Gabriel, ladybug won’t ever be on the wrong and cat won’t ever suffer the consequences of his immaturity while being a hero for fun who doesn’t care about the consequences

That's a pretty interesting idea. We really need more villains with their own non-Butterfly Miraculous in this show.

[theemporium]

15 with steve please!

15. “I can’t believe you remembered.”

.

As sad as it sounded, Steve got pretty used to people zoning out when he spoke. 

Yeah, he had people who fawned over him and girls who flirted with him and guys who wanted to be him when he reigned as King Steve, but none of them ever really listened to him. Neither did his teammates on his basketball team. Neither did his parents. 

Nobody ever really focused on the words he said, nobody ever really bothered to remember them either. 

Things shifted when the world of the Upside Down came crashing into his life. When his close knit group of friends became a group of rangly kids that Steve never considered would change his life for the better. When he learnt that popularity and numbers meant shit when you had people who would die for you, who would care if you died even. 

And as much as he loved and adored his little found family, his luck with girls didn’t become any better as the years passed.

When he was King Steve, they just used him for his looks and social status. When he was working at Scoops Ahoy, they flirted with him in hopes of a discount or a freebie. When he moved to Family Video, they just saw him as a cute face to play about with but eventually leave in the dust. 

And the saddest part of it all was that Steve never expected it to change, he never expected that his life would be anything but bad luck and bad dates. 

Then, after being dragged into a campaign last minute for the sake of filling numbers by Dustin and Eddie, he met you. 

You were pretty. So fucking pretty that sometimes it made his heart race and his brain stop working and he was pretty sure he would forget his own name if someone asked him. And you were funny, in an effortless way that made his cheeks hurt every time he was around you because you just made him so happy. And, by some fucking grace of god, you liked him. 

Or at least, he thinks you do. 

He really fucking hopes you do. 

But his doubts got the best of him and he allowed himself to push away the question he was desperate to ask you, no matter how much Eddie and Robin hounded him to just bite the bullet and ask you out on a date. He couldn’t fuck it up, and he couldn’t lose you. 

And then you sauntered into Family Video less than three hours after his shift started, smiling brightly as you dumped a container on the counter in front of him. 

“Uh,” Steve glanced down at the container before looking up at you, finding his cheeks flushing slightly at the smile you gave him. “Not to be a stickler or anything, but this doesn’t look like a copy of Jaws.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging the container closer to him. “Open it.”

“Open it?” Steve parroted. 

“Yes, open it,” you said to him, almost rolling back on your heels as you watched him reach for it. “It’s for you.” 

Steve remembered a vague conversation he had with you a couple of weeks back. He offered to drive you back home after a campaign and ended up parked outside your house whilst you spoke for two hours before eventually leaving the car. It had left him giddy for days after—much to Robin’s amusement.

He didn’t think you had actually listened to him during that conversation, let alone remember a single fact from it. Maybe because Steve wasn’t used to being the one having something done for him.

“You said they were your favourites when you were younger,” you started when you noticed the way he fell silent after opening the container. “The bakery didn’t make them anymore so I tried my best go at making them myself but, uh, I’m not really a baker.”

Steve stared at the box in front of him, containing around ten dinosaur shaped cookies with green icing and multi-coloured sprinkles decorating them. He felt his throat close up when he noted the different faces and expressions on each cookie, all homemade by you just because Steve stupidly admitted to you that he used to love the dino cookies the local bakery made whenever he stayed with his grandmother before she died. 

The nerves started to eat at you the longer he stayed silent. “Do…do you like them?”

Steve finally tore his eyes away from the cookies, blinking back the wetness in his eyes as he gave you such a soft smile it made your heart sore. “I can’t believe you remembered.” 

“Dino cookies are hard to forget,” you joked lightly, your expression a little sheepish. “I’m sorry if they taste like shit—”

“They are perfect,” Steve said with certainty. 

Your brows furrowed. “You haven’t even—”

Not missing a beat, Steve grabbed a cookie from the top of the pile and shoved a large chunk in his mouth as he took a bite. His eyes widened a little as he looked down at the cookie before shoving the rest in his mouth. 

“Holy shit,” he murmured, blushing a little when he heard the way you giggled at his muffled words before he made sure to swallow the cookie before continuing. “You actually made those?”

“With my own two hands.”

“They’re insane,” Steve said, pretending like his heart wasn’t thundering against his chest. “I—thank you. So much.” 

“Anytime, Stevie,” you answered with a smile. 

“You think you can teach me the recipe?” he asked, partially joking and partially serious because anytime spent with you was a win in his books.

“Does Friday work for you?” you asked and he nodded. “Perfect. It’s a date.” 

Steve didn’t even get the chance to respond before you turned on your heel, walking out the store before he even opened his mouth. But he looked down at the box of cookies, a wide grin spread across his face and found himself eager for Friday to roll around.

.

[phantasmiac]

civilian touya who has an awkward relationship with his family. puts the civil in civilian. he got all his angst and rage out of his system during his teenage years, and enji’s been on a self improvement journey for some time now. things should be good now — but he only visits home once every two months (sometimes even less often) and no phone call with him ever lasts any longer than five minutes (unless you’re natsuo. then you get an extra five). and no matter how hard fuyumi or rei attempt to pry on the occasions he does join them at the dinner table, whatever he’s been up to recently is still a mystery for the most part by the time he leaves. touya loves his family, because loving unconditionally is just in his nature. but he spent so much time being angry and pushing them away during his teenage years that he doesn’t really know them anymore — and he can’t bring himself to trust people he doesn’t know.

civilian touya who randomly brings home his hot tattooed gf one day. rei’s eyes are sparkling as she laughs and chats with you, hand resting over your own in that warm motherly way. and the whole time enji’s sat like a fucking statue with an unreadable expression on his face that makes him look constipated. he’s trying so hard not to say oh brother 🙄 so this is what touya’s gotten himself into. he hasn’t gotten to the chapter about conservatism in his self help book. he doesn’t say anything because everyone seems to really like you and touya’s been watching you and his mom talk with a fondness that’s lowkey causing cracks in his stone cold heart. but secretly, he’s betting that this relationship isn’t gonna make it touya’s next visit.

civilian touya who brings you over again…. and again…. and again. enji’s so bewildered and stressed at the fact that he was wrong it’s comical. and he has yet to voice his concerns to anyone else bc he doesn’t want to look like an asshole so he just has this ongoing bet with the voice inside his head that you and touya are going to break up any minute now. everyone else has joined touya in being infatuated with you because you’re great — but also because touya’s now started to visit more often and there’s a constant grin on his face that they haven’t seen since he was a little boy. and enji swears he won’t fall for your little tricks! he’s absolutely livid when a chuckle escapes him at a juvenile joke you made. scandalized by the fact that he’s a little curious about the meaning behind one of your tattoos — you’re not gonna get him to ask 😡

civilian touya who announces that you’re five weeks pregnant a year and a half into your relationship. rei cries. because she’s going to be a grandma, of course, but also because he actually chose to share the news with them instead of suddenly disappearing to some foreign country to raise a family in secret — something she’s convinced the touya before you would have done just to avoid being open with them. and enji, thinks this might just be his aha! moment. having a baby this soon, out of wedlock? bound to fall apart. for once, he hopes he’s wrong.

civilian touya who has one hand stabilizing the smiley, toothless baby girl sitting on his lap and the other holding your left, thumb rubbing the aquamarine gemstone on your ring finger. enji watches his firstborn dote on his own and silently reminisces the first few months of touya’s life. he remembers being full of love for someone for the first time in his entire life, and being terrified; it was all more than he knew what to do with. touya seems to know exactly what to do with it all when he coos at his two girls. love was never a challenge for him — just finding somewhere to place it.

★ a/n: i wrote this with the panel from 388 in mind and that’s the ONLY reason shouto isn’t mentioned. ily bby it’s not what it looks like

[prodigaldaughteralice]

Man, you know what hit me while watching For the Future, and I didn’t say anything about it at the time but it’s been circulating in my head since then?

Amity saying to Boscha “This is a bit much, even for you!”, in comparison to her father a few episodes back saying “this is too much— even for you.” The similarity in structure, the difference in delivery, you know.

And I keep thinking about the theory that Alador and Odalia were pushed to marry by their parents, and about how Amity was pushed to be friends with Boscha, and imagining a bad future where Luz didn’t show up and they ended up in a similar position.

It’s not going to be that bad, right? Sure, Amity never really *liked* Boscha, but you don’t have to like someone to be their friend, you just have to be around them, do things with them, listen when they talk. Having a wife will be like that, right? She’ll just… do the things she’s supposed to do, and live alongside her. It’ll be fine.

The wedding is just another formal event her parents throw, with the complication of Boscha’s parents being part of it too, and constantly trying to one-up hers. In her final act of rebellion, Amity sends Willow an invitation. She doesn’t come. Amity closes a door.

Odalia lightens up on urging Amity to join the Emperor’s Coven when she realizes that as the only one of their kids who follows in Alador’s footsteps magic-wise, it’d be better for her to train to take over the factory someday. She can’t say she exactly enjoys working under her father, since he only ever talks about work, and not even with the spark of interest in his eyes she remembers him having when she was little. Her mother spends most of her time sniping at her mothers-in-law and asking when grandkids are coming, though, and the twins are gadding about through high society and making fun of her whenever they can, so he’s kind of the family member she’s closest to by default.

Things don’t really go well. Boscha thinks the way their mothers constantly fight is hilarious, and she definitely enjoys the status that comes along with the Blight name, but she definitely doesn’t love the way her new in-laws expect her to wind potions skills into the family business or else just stay out of the way. She wants to win trophies, not be one. She’s also not stupid, and she knows Amity doesn’t love her— knew since long before the wedding, but she hoped that would change over time, and as it continues not to she’s building up an intense resentment. They were meant for each other, why can’t Amity see it? She’s being the queen of Bonesborough society, they’re on top together just like it was in high school only better, but Amity still doesn’t love her, and it’s not fair.

Some years on, they have a daughter. She’s the absolute light of Amity’s life, but by the time she’s toddling Boscha is already starting to take out some of her resentment on her. She pushes her too hard, she makes fun of the way she garbles words. The baby’s  just being a baby, and Amity tries to get Boscha to lighten up, but Boscha says she’s just having fun and being a mom, which Amity isn’t because she’s working all day, and she doesn’t have a comeback for that.  

Amity’s trying to calm Boscha down, taking her to matches when she has a rare night off and they can get a sitter, but it just prickles at her more— she wants to be on the field, not watching; she wants to be on a real date with her wife, not an awkward attempt at appeasement.

It’s all eating away at Amity. She looks into her daughter’s three beautiful gold eyes and she’s terrified her little girl will feel like this, someday.

She’s sleepwalking through her days, she feels like one of her mother’s ghosts. She’s working, because it’s the only thing she really understands anymore. She’s elbow-deep in the beta design for the 3.6, and she nearly jumps out of her skin when her father puts a hand on her shoulder.

He has a bottle of hard apple blood. They go sit on the roof, and they talk.

She can’t say she sees a way through to happiness, but at least she’s not alone. That’s something, isn’t it?

[sariels-world-ella]

So originally I was just going to make the full body design drawing since this artwork I made here isn't full body, here's that drawing in case you're curious:

So, I made a full body one and then got carried away and made Grillby and Fuku too, I still don't know how the arms work AT ALL but ehh... Whatever

I don't have too much info on Grillby and Fuku as AU Characters but I do have a bit on Muffet so here's that below the cut:

Full Name: Little Miss Muffet

Alias: Muffet, Muffy, Miss Muffet

Biological Sex: None

Gender: Feminine

Age: mid to late 50s

Romantic preference: any

Status: alive

Birth year: early 1960s to late 1950s

Species: Monster

Type: Anthropomorphic

Race: Arachnid

Occupation: Baker

Known Family: Little Miss Patience (Grandmother) Little Miss Mactan (Mother), The Small Spiders (Adoptive Children)

Strongest Attacks:

Venom Bite - Inject your enemy with lethal Venom

Lynch - hang your enemy with a noose of webs

She graduated from a high school in snowdin and went to Hotland’s culinary school for her higher education, as soon as she graduated she took out a business loan and opened her bakery parlor.

Not much of Muffet’s early life is known, but we do know she lived with her grandmother, Little Miss Patience though it's unknown if her parent(s) were still in the picture, though we do know her mother's name is Little Miss Mactan, as in Latrodectus mactans (Black Widow), implying that if Muffet had another parent that Mactan probably ate them and the reason she isn't in the picture anymore is that she is serving jail time.

Muffet did meet Papyrus when she was 7 and he was in his 30s-40s at that time when he was working part-time as a babysitter, and at some point Muffet met Grillby but it's unknown exactly when.

During the Underground Civil War, her Parlor was temporarily closed down and she made food and supplies for the war effort.

Muffet is extremely skilled in martial arts and likes to use a fighting technique that incorporates elements of dance.

Before the barrier went up, Muffet’s Family originated from, what is now, the human country of France. We know that Muffet has a lot of tiny spiders that aren’t the same race nor monster type as her being from the Creature Type, but she does consider them her children, and no, they are not the ones she serves to others to eat, those are actual, real, living, exoskeleton and blood spiders not monsters who look and act like spiders, we know this because if they were monster spiders, she won’t be able to cook or bake them into anything as they’ll just turn into dust and dust doesn’t taste good.

We also know Muffet came from a longline of tailors and seamstresses, but Muffet chose to pursue baking and went to culinary school, however Muffet is still a natural tailor and is very good at making clothing, even making clothes to support the war effort during the Underground civil war.

We don’t know what Muffet’s pet is, we do know it’s not a species part of the Supernatural Order, so it’s likely just a familiar, though if it is, it's unknown if she is the one who conjured it or it was just passed down through generations.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant - 10

content warnings: mentions of murder, non-human whumpee with non-human injuries, dehumanization

prev chapter | masterlist

It wasn’t until hours later that someone tall walked in, his perfect posture and unreadable expression reeking of confidence. I immediately ducked my head down, but he didn’t glance at me, his platform boots coming to a stop in front of the queen.

“Kieran,” she acknowledged, not looking up at him.

“Lucia. Pleasure to see you again. Your status as a former ruler means that I am required to show a certain level of respect for you, but please know that will not protect you from the consequences of breaking the law. It will only protect me from spitting on your grave.”

I tried desperately to remember what Prince Ryan had told me about Keiran last night. Someone had their information wrong, because he’d just called the queen a former ruler when her family had had the crown for sixteen generations. We’d come here to overthrow Keiran—that meant he was a king, right? Of what country? We hadn’t driven far enough to have left Sathenn last night, had we? All of Sathenn was the territory of the royal family, forever, but Kieran was a king somewhere, right?

“Lucia, your charges against the kingdom are as follows,” the man—Kieran—continued. “The murder of seven people last night, the-” He abruptly cut himself off, and I glanced up to see his eyes fixed on me.

Fuck.

I leaned further forward, straining my wings in an effort to stay balanced, hoping desperately that he’d continue whatever he was doing before. It seemed to have the opposite effect. “You have wings.”

I swallowed nervously. “Yes, sir.” His boots had spikes on them. I couldn’t tell if they were just decoration or if they were strong enough to be used to hurt. Decorative spikes could still hurt, but it’d ruin them to be used like that. That might not stop him, though. With boots like that, he wouldn't even have to crouch down to draw my blood, it'd be so easy. If he kicked me, it would- well, it probably wouldn’t be good, exactly.

Kieran glanced between me and the queen. “Lucia, where the hell did you get an angel? I can’t- You know what? I don’t want to know.” He crouched in front of me. “Hey. Angel. What’s your name?”

“Onyx. …Sir.” I didn’t lift my head up, hoping it would disguise the way my voice shook.

Obviously, it didn’t work, because his voice was gentle the next time he talked. “Okay, Onyx, my name is Kieran. Can you tell me what happened to your wing?”

“... Pardon?”

“Your wing. The broken one.”

The broken one. Right. Right. “That wasn't from last night. It’s been broken as long as I can remember, sir. It doesn’t hurt anymore. It was broken as a preventative measure, so that I couldn’t fly.”

“So that you couldn’t- Jesus. Okay. That’s sadistic. You’re going to need medical care for that, and for- what happened to your arm?”

My arm was from last night, but it was difficult to remember what had actually happened. It was a sword, I thought, probably, because Prince Cardan had… fuck, what had happened? He’d resisted the handcuffs, right?

“Sometime today, Onyx.”

“My apologies, sir. It got scraped last night.”

“Right. Medical care. Is anyone else in here injured?”

“Ryan fucked up his arm,” Prince Cardan blurted out, and Prince Ryan turned to glare at him.

“You fucked up my arm. Are you snitching on me to Kieran to get back at me for not letting you kill him? Is that what this is, you little piece of-”

“No one is snitching on anyone,” Kieran said firmly. “For better or worse, no one is treating anyone without explicit consent. Ryan, would you like medical assistance?”

Prince Ryan spat at Kieran’s boots.

“Fine by me,” Kieran muttered. “Onyx, medical care?”

I glanced at Prince Ryan, on my left, and he sighed. “They won't be able to do anything about your wing, but you can go if your arm hurts.” He was annoyed, maybe with his brother and maybe with me, but he wouldn’t have said I could if he hadn’t meant it. I wouldn’t get in trouble for going.

“Untie the angel and help him to the infirmary, please,” Kieran told a guard. I wouldn’t get in trouble from the royal family for going, but I supposed that he had made no promises.

“Onyx,” Prince Ryan said quietly, and I glanced back at him. “Do what they tell you, yeah? Be nice and compliant for them. Don’t get hurt.” Don’t get punished, he meant. Do what they tell you and stay out of trouble.

I could do that. I knew how to do that.

Prince Cardan laughed. “It's an angel, Ry, not some priceless artifact. Does it matter?”

Prince Ryan didn't give an answer, and the guard didn't wait for one anyway, ushering me out the door.

~

taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed): @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606

[creepling]

i’ve had to have some time to think about this because it’s new johnny lore, whether confirmed yet or not im not too sure. haven’t been able to get to the bones of it bc of the nancy gameplay. and it is also something out my comfort zone, but i do have thoughts. ive wrote this more as headcanon, keeping to exploring the fiction so don’t take it as my personal view. i know it’s opened a can of worms in the fandom, but this is me trying to make sense of it through writing.

tags: necrophilia, death, corpses, derranged johnny shenanigans.

many serial killers have confessed to dappling in necrophilia. it’s hard not to when they are toying with death through attraction. if they target victims they also have a sexual attraction to, and they also want to committ murder, there is then a psychological nuance to how they view that person (that they already see as less than human). they will revisit the murder scene, sometimes even dig up the body. they don’t even have to physically committ necro, but the obsession is still there.

in the case of johnny, it is not too far fetched to assume he has been in situations that can have this psychological change in him becoming a necro. how far he goes with it is what is left to the imagination. someone with a philia does not have to do the physical act for it to count, just the obsession mentally accuring is enough. when it comes to necro, the obsession relies on the intrigue of bodily autonomy, to strip it completely through death. his victims have a habit of escaping him, and he is despised by family members because of this. his drive for the hunt is not only to fufill his killer instinct, but also to assure that no one will escape. he views death as a trap, an everlasting bound on their body, mind and soul. his emotions are numb to the point he doesn’t even view it as killing them. he already sees them as an object - as a canvas of flesh - and in death it makes no difference. or, he has the delusion of still seeing light in their eyes; they can speak, but choose not to. in any of these readings, he fulfills his need for control. the body is now obediant, and he doesn’t need to bare anymore shameful scars.

since i’m not a necro (thank god) i assume the obsession is kin to looking at a statue. one of those greek ones where you admire the curves and angles of the body, awing at the creation. its stillness captivating since it’s so life-like, your mind scans for a jolt or twitch. you start to imagine how they would speak, move, show emotion. the person is immortalised to be admired and have them in memory. maybe johnny views his perservation of the bodies like a work of art, they are his muses. when they’re still and unmoving, he can make them who he wants them to be. he can have his derranged thoughts contained in his head, looking at the body on the meat hook, the same way the average person looks at a statue in a museum. maybe that’s all he does, just stares, a scenario in his head, held back by a force that he cannot identify. it’s the first time he’s ever questioned something about his character; and it scares him. that voice in his head, “you sure you wanna do that?” has never tried to stop him before, so why now? is it because drayton doesn’t take kindly to him ‘playing with his food’, is it drayton’s voice? no, he’d be more harsher than that. is it his mum? can’t be, she’s never stopped him before. then who is it? to the average person, that is what you call a conscious. to johnny, it’s an unwelcomed guest, another voice to nag at him. he’s bulldozed his way through life, eating and grabbing anything he desires, and now he’s come to a hault. he thinks the voice is challenging him, and he never backs out of anything. but for the first time in his life, he’s thinking about it. not because he’s questioning the morals, but to see how it will benefit him. and when he looks at maria’s body, hanging on the meathook, and could have sworn he seen her blink. even in death, she is defiant. now, he has to take back control.

[takaraphoenix]

I’ve been meaning to make this post since season 1, but particularly with a book-based fandom as an exclusive show-watcher, it felt premature. After season 2 and the elements added to the narrative, I have an itching in my fingers.

What makes the Darkling, as a villain, so very compelling is the fact that his incredibly fucking valid motivation is just completely swept under the rug. And I mean completely.

I think there might be less appeal to him if there was more acknowledgement to the shit going on in this world, to be honest? I just find it completely impossible to actually root for the “good” guys because I don’t... see an argument made for what they stand.

It’s a tale as old as time, when it comes to storytelling.

You have a character and his motivation is that his people are being mistreated, abused and straight-up murdered by an oppressive force and he won’t stand for it anymore.

Now, here’s the problem with that. This does not read like a villain’s motivation. Not at all. So the author will sprinkle a good amount of murder and atrocities in there to show the audience that This Is The Bad Guy and the majority of the audience with then nod along with this. And, gotta say, really working well in this fandom, it’s baffling how much blind hatred I see for Aleksander based on all of the murder and atrocities but I don’t think I’ve seen anyone outside the people who like Aleksander bring up that what he actually stands for is right. So, that worked, I guess.

The bigger problem with these narratives however, the much, much bigger problem, is that usually, it creates a hero who doesn’t stand for anything. Because instead of giving the hero the same motivation - especially in cases where the hero comes from the same oppressed group, and they usually do - and making the hero find a better solution for this problem, a heroic solution, a no-murder-and-no-atrocities solution, the hero just... fights the villain.

The hero fights the villain to ensure the status quo, very often even directly in the name of the oppressive force. And that’s exactly what’s happening here and I’m not having a good time with that, fellas.

I love Nikolai as a character - would love him 300% more if he was just a pirate and not a prince. Because now he is just... the latest... in a long line of monarchs. And Alina aligns herself with the same bloodline that’s been oppressing Grisha for centuries. And Alina fights in their name and at their side. And Alina is now, in the aftermath, rebuilding... the status quo.

She wants Zoya to train the Grisha, back at the palace, so they can once again serve the royal family and work under the non-Grisha. She is actively helping Nikolai claim his family’s throne. Again, I like Nikolai as a character, and you could give me a whole list of book spoilers of what amazing changes he may make once he’s king or whatever, that doesn’t change the core premise of what he symbolizes and what system is being supported here.

If it were at least the narrative of her wanting the throne, her wanting active change. A Grisha on the throne, who would rule the people, would change the laws and the way her people are ruled, but instead, she’s playing side-piece to the exact same royal family and helping them stay in power and... what about that is satisfying?

What about that is worth rooting for? Why am I supposed to be on that side?

Everyone seems to have very personal feelings on that matter that really are about Aleksander, as a character, and are very specifically about the atrocities and murders that were written for this exact reason and I... really struggle with this.

It’s so lazy. I think the Grishaverse is a very interesting world with a whole lot of potential and the characters in it are absolutely amazing - this world does live off its characters alone, honestly. But the very core confrontation that we’re presented with is incredibly lazy and unsatisfactory.

I understand that Aleksander is supposed to be the villain. I understand you’re not going to have Alina join his side. But... Alina didn’t have to join the side of the monarchy either. Alina could have had her own side, she could have fought for genuine change and true freedom for the Grisha and that would have been a cause to get behind.

But as things stand? As things stand, I quite honestly rather support the guy who has seen centuries of oppression, enslavement and murder of their kind and wants to end it with all means rather than the side that fights for the status quo.

[sleeplesssmoll]

Honestly, I’m starting to wonder if Sonetto rejecting Vertin’s gifts didn’t affect her a ton. Like, obviously it did, but I mean in a lasting way. Their dynamic changed completely, from Vertin constantly seeking out Sonetto to Sonetto constantly wanting to spend more time with Vertin.

Obviously, Vertin doesn’t reject her, but she doesn’t actively reach out anymore… Could she still be hurt by Sonetto’s rejection, and too scared of it happening again to try again? Or worried that despite Sonetto’s change of attitude, she would still choose her loyalty to the Foundation over everything else?

And I wonder how much of this is an organic development, VS the writers working within the specific constraints of a mobile game story. They can’t do anything that would change their dynamic too drastically for a ton of reasons: it could make Sonetto’s voicelines obsolete, confuse new players checking out new events without past context, upset the playerbase (if they prefer other Vertin ships)… It’s possible they’re saving any major developments for future main story chapters too, leaving Vertin and Sonetto in a status quo for the moment. Or maybe Sonetto’s crush is truly one-sided and I’m coping hard.

Aaah I’m just starving for Vertin and Sonetto content that focuses more on Vertin’s perspective. Sonetto’s side is so obvious, but Vertin’s is kind of a mystery to me. Sorry for rambling in your ask box, I hope this gives you some food for thought at least.

I won't turn down a free meal so no need to be sorry 😎

When it comes to shipping culture, shippers are going to sail no matter how strong the current is. Unless the fans get toxic and we have another Voltron on our hands (it's better if you don't know).

I understand your frustration. It's really the large gaps in their childhood that make this so hard to figure out. Why is Sonetto suffering from puppy love? We see Vertin is comfortable teasing her too so they are closer but how did we get here?

Something is missing.

Also, I wouldn't say that Vertin isn't reaching out to her, but rather she changed the way she interacts with everyone.

Smoltin: Look at what I found!

Vertin: Are you interested in___?

Vertin treats most of the people she meets like this. What are your motives? Dreams? Wishes? What do you want to do? And then she acts accordingly.

With Regulus, it was freedom.

With Druvis, it was a moving forward to a new future.

With Schneieder it was a shelter.

Even when fighting her enemies, she reaches out offering what she can and tells them she can be what they need if they come with her. Vertin isn't lying either, unlike Manus or the Foundation. She reveals her limitations as well as what she can do for you. If you played through Green Lake, you'd have the perfect example of this but the previous chapters do a great job establishing this too.

Present day Sonetto expressed a desire to see the world. (Also she likes riding stuff like trains and buses. Vertin should take her on a hayride during pumpkin season. She'd love it. ) ANYWAY, Vertin spends more time asking what other people want to do than bringing up her own story.

And that could be because she's seen the end of so many stories cut short by the Storm. She has changed.

This is also why it's hard to pinpoint what love is for Vertin. She's the one giving most of the time but we don't know what she wants aside from the truth and peace. You could say she needs a place to belong, but that could extend to everyone in her Suitcase living under her protection and protecting her in return (found family is best family).

So what can a “lover” give Vertin anyway? What is it that Vertin wants? What does she need? (No one say milf if I hear one more mother joke I'll eat my phone.)

I have a hot take. If nothing about this girl I is conventional, then I don't think her love life would be either if she had one. But…I have no idea what that would look like.

Notice how you asked about wanting to see into Vertin’s head and I made it more confusing. This ended up with more questions. 😅

But if can find Vertin's "void", we can figure out how she works in a dynamic with other characters and what they provide to fill it. In this case, what is it Sonetto does for Vertin?

[crazyunsexycool]

Hey Val, how are you doing?

I was just wondering if you would be able to give us a little taster of anything you've written but not yet posted? I'm almost done binging all your writing 😢😢

🩷🩷🩷🩷

First of all, thank you for your support!!

Here is what I’ll do, I’ll post a few sneak peeks of Wips for either chapters or one shots I’m writing!

My Little Love:

“What do you say, Henry, should you have matching braids like your sister?” You joke as you comb through his hair.

“Mama.” He giggles. “No. I want my hair down.”

“Oh, ok. If you change your mind though, I can totally braid it.”

He laughs but pulls away while Lottie begs him to get braids.

“We’ll get him next time, sweet Angel.”

“Next time, mama.”

“Alright, time for shoes.”

You grab Lottie and head toward her room when you bump into Bucky who was dressed and ready to go.

“What is this about braiding Henry’s hair?” He was already giving you a suspicious look but the corners of his mouth were upturned.

“You next dada.”

Life, love and dancing with death

Civil War!Bucky Barnes x reader

A few hours later, in the middle of the night while you’re watching the world pass by your window you hear screaming. It’s muffled but you hear it. It dawns on you that it’s from the apartment below yours. Bucky was in trouble. Or so you thought, so you rush down stairs and knock on his door until it swings open. The sight before you is devastating. Bucky’s eyes were wide and distant, like he was lost in his memories. Sweat kept some of his hair clinging to his forehead and overall he looked terrified.

“James?” You called softly. “Is everything ok?”

He shook his head, eyes filled with unshed tears.

“What can I do?”

“Can- can I f-feel you?” He stuttered through the question.

“I’m here.” You reached your hand out and he took it before pulling you into his apartment.

Bucky doesn’t just hold you, no he clings to you. Desperate to wake up from his nightmares, to realize that he isn’t strapped to that chair anymore. You don’t know any of that of course and he isn’t going to tell you either. Instead he does something he hasn’t done in 70 years.

He kisses a pretty girl.

This is how it feels

Modern Prince!Ransom Drysdale x Reader

It was like breathing for the first time. Like seeing color in its true vibrant form. Hugh Ransom Drysdale, disgraced Prince, came to life the moment he saw you across the ballroom.

Ethereal and the picture of grace. A beauty beyond compare. As all royals there was an air of sadness that you masked poorly but no one seemed to notice or care. But Ransom saw it, he felt it in his soul. He had learned a long time ago that no one cared, especially when you screwed up and tore the family’s reputation to shreds.

If no one cared why should he? That was a lesson Ransom took to heart. It’s how he became the black sheep of the royal family and was practically a pariah. He was tolerated because his grandfather was King. He used his status as Prince to bed any woman he chose including the wives of foreign noblemen. At one point a war was almost started and even then Ransom didn’t seem to care.

Ransom watched as you were paraded around the ballroom by different eligible bachelors. It was clear that your father was using you as a bargaining chip and you knew it.

Love in times of war part 2

“I knew it was a bad idea to let her go out so soon.” Steve’s voice reached you but it was so hard to open your eyes.

“Too soon? Steve, she's been here for two months. You can’t keep her locked up.”

That was Bucky. They were having a whispered argument.

“It’s not about keeping her locked up. It’s about keeping her safe. She’s still the only person that knows the formula for the serum. Every agency and country in the world is going to come after her.”

“Steve?” You asked. Everything was blurry, all you could make out was shapes moving around and that caused you to panic. “Steve?”

“I’m right here. It’s ok.”

“I can’t see.”

“I know, it’s a side effect from the smoke grenades and the hit you took but it will clear up.” He reassured you while taking your hand. You breathed a sigh of relief at having him close.

“What happened?”

Oh Baby (might turn this into a 2part or mini series)

Single dad! Bucky x Single mom!Reader

Flustered, unsure and overwhelmed did not begin to cover the emotions Bucky was feeling as he walked into the room full of moms. A newborn strapped into the stroller and a backpack full of supplies strapped to his back. His long hair was pulled into a messy bun which allowed everyone to see how exhausted he looked.

“May I help you?” The instructor asked as she got closer to him.

“This is the class for parents with newborns, right?”

“Yes it is. Is your wife or girlfriend joining us?” The smile the instructor had plastered on her face was fake.

“No. I saw online that anyone could join. I have a newborn and I don’t really know what I’m doing. Thought I could give the class a try.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously as he looked around the room.

Almost everyone had a look of disapproval on their face which only served to make Bucky feel worse. He was out of his depth having to care for a newborn.

“Well it says that but this is really a mommy and me class.”

“Well the ad said anyone can join so where can I sit?” Bucky said with more confidence.

The instructor gave an exasperated sigh and opened her mouth to ask him to leave.

“There’s a free spot here.”