#make him the most trusted man of yours and find your own sense of purpose

[meadowsofmay]

im back from the exam and im absolutely in love with this, im about to cry, really.

thranduil will always fuss about broken decorum while checking children for any injuries — only later on legolas understood that it was a way for his father to distract himself from all the anxiety that comes with having a child that just can't sit still for five damn minutes. he does apologize at some point for all the heart attacks he gave him, well... before his duties called him to go far into the woods and fight spiders.

thranduil IS absolutely protective over arwen, she's everyone's little princess but he is so charmed by her being strong and witty and proud and elegant and so adorably childish, still. arwen likes to talk to him about alot of things, while thranduil braids her hair their special way — the hairstyle they came up with over countless evenings they spent together. thranduil gives her the opinion about her concerns, helps her with the relationship with her father if there's any trouble and explains to her elrond's point of view.

eventually, elrond and thranduil really did help each other to save their relationships with their children.

oh damn, when estel comes into picture elrond is worried, he is scared. first years of estel being in imladris is just a constant need to be on guard and thranduil has to talk him through his worries over thousands of letters sent back and forth, till he rides for imladris himself and i don't know what is up with that child and i respect you not telling me, yet still, out of all, you are the one who's capable to protect him. but if it will lift the weight of terror off your chest, i swear to all that is mighty, if anything happens i'll be there to help and protect

elrond almost cries.

twins are protective over legolas. like, heavily. ever since they were young, twins assigned themselves to put legolas into trouble and than, without a doubt, save him from it. when estel came into picture, they decided that they have to protect them. elrond feels proud knowing that he raised his sons well. thranduil never doubts them, even sents them valuable gifts for just being them.

i am so terribly sorry that i made you smile and then killed the mood, i couldn't hold it but i don't regret it

Going off my last reblog

I LOVE the idea of Thranduil and Elrond being besties and having their kids grow up together (idc about ages this is my head canon)

like omg little play dates w the twins and Legolas

Thranduil getting mad that the twins are corrupting his sweet little leafs mind w tricks and pranks as if Legolas isn’t coming up w half of them

Thranduil teaching Arwen how to braid bc let’s be honest idk what Elrond had going on w his hair but he didn’t braid his kids hair LOL

[lara-kaminari]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥

Ominis GauntxF!Reader

art from @tamayula-hl and dedicated to her because she defines perfectly that art can provoke such beautiful things in people as happiness, longing and sadness.

Ominis Gaunt reflects on his role in life. Winners take all and losers fall, isn't that how it works?

Tw: Angst - Based on an ABBA Song - ABBA is Its Own Warning

Ominis Gaunt had always believed the world was divided into winners and losers. His father used to say:

“The winner takes it all, Ominis. The loser is insignificant beside victory. That is their fate.”

It was a life rule Ominis tried to avoid, but it seemed omnipresent. He had felt like a loser his entire life. He was never the most loved son, the most cherished friend, or anyone’s first choice. Everyone else seemed to find their purpose, except for him.

For a time, that was fine. Ominis learned to blend into the shadows; quiet observation and careful listening became his survival tools in a cruel world full of winners who basked in their achievements. Being a loser was bearable, as long as he surrounded himself with the right people.

Against his better judgment, Sebastian was a winner. A winner in every sense of the word. Everyone loved him—he was charming, fun, and destined to succeed in life. It wasn’t easy living in the shadow of your best friend, especially when that shadow turned into sheer darkness. A consuming, harmful darkness.

At the start of their fifth year, Ominis decided to change.

She wasn’t a loser. She walked into the Great Hall like a champion, a dragon-slayer, a stunning (according to whispered voices) and kind student.

Ominis was a loser, so of course, he was angry when he found her outside the Undercroft. Why was she there? Did Sebastian invite her? Had she gained his trust so easily? Typical winners—they seemed to sense success in each other.

No. He wouldn’t shrink beside victory. That wouldn’t be his fate.

Ominis did terrible things. Joining in Sebastian’s antics wasn’t honest or true to him. Oh, why did she push him to break the rules? Why did she defend Sebastian so passionately? It would be her downfall. Sebastian wasn’t a winner—he was just someone who knew how to mask his failures.

The gods could roll their cold, icy dice, and someone down here would lose a loved one. Sebastian was their puppet. A murderer.

“I don’t know what to do,” she cried.

Ominis didn’t either. No one ever told him that winners hid corpses or sent their friends to prison for life. None of that sounded like success. He asked for time to think; she did too. Sebastian waited.

And that night, Ominis tasted a drop of victory.

She couldn’t sleep and sought him for comfort. Two students breaking the rules, sleeping together in the same bed. It didn’t matter. Sebastian wasn’t there. The other boys weren’t there either.

Ominis whispered soothing words in her ear. She was worried, afraid of making a terrible decision. All he could think about was how right it felt to be in her arms, to finally belong somewhere, to have a purpose. He imagined a life away from Hogwarts and his family, just with her. He’d build her a house with a wooden fence, something to make him feel stronger. More like a man, less like a boy.

But he was a fool and kept playing by the rules.

“Let’s not turn Sebastian in,” he had said.

There was silence. The choice was hers, but Ominis had given her the push. He would carry the burden. Losers do that. Losers sacrifice. Losers…

Losers get kissed.

Softly, like a morning breeze. No, this wasn’t what losing felt like. This felt like winning. It was fulfilling, like reaching nirvana. Ominis, emboldened, stole another kiss—longer, clumsier, but utterly divine. Afterward, they both fell asleep.

Sebastian was a winner, so he claimed what was his. He consumed her completely, regained her trust, called her beautiful, and kissed her in public. Ominis stepped aside. Those were the rules.

The judges made their decisions. Ominis accepted them. He was a spectator of a spectator. Always staying beneath.

“So, you’re marrying him.”

Years later, Ominis wondered if there was any point in denying defeat.

“Well, I said yes,” she joked. “I suppose that seals the invisible contract.”

“Very funny. Why are you here instead of celebrating with the others? Your engagement party seems like the event of the year.”

“I saw you… You looked uncomfortable. Then you left, and now I’ve found you here alone, away from everyone.”

“It’s nothing. The noise gets overwhelming sometimes, and I needed a moment.”

“Are you sure?”

Ominis wondered if she ever thought of him. Did Sebastian kiss her the way he once had? Did she feel anything when he said her name?

“Was I ever an option?” Ominis asked.

“What?”

“I mean… Did I—”

“No, I heard you,” she interrupted. “You never wanted to be an option. You never did anything to make it so. Why… Why now? Couldn’t you—?”

“It’s foolish. I’m sorry.”

“Exactly! You always do this. You regret, turn away, wash your hands of everything, and leave people behind like—”

“I never—”

“You’re a liar. And now you’re pretending… Was it so easy for you to ignore everything? Deep down, you must have known I needed you.”

“You didn’t need me. That’s why you let Sebastian into your life when I told you to forgive him, and that’s why you’re marrying him.”

“Of course I am! Because he loves me, and I love him. He’s proven it every day and never let me go without explanation. Sebastian is devoted. I love him for that. He’s shown me it’s worth fighting for the one you love.”

Ominis grumbled. Fighting. The game was starting again. What could he hope for? A lover? A friend? Something big or small?

“I don’t want to talk about what we’ve been through,” she said, and Ominis swore he heard a sob. “Even though it hurts, what you’re saying now is history. I played my cards, and so did you…”

“I didn’t—”

“There’s nothing left to say. No ace to play.”

It was true. Maybe they were both losers. There was only one winner, and he had taken it all.

“Fine. I don’t want to talk if it makes you sad. I understand you came to offer me a hand, and I’m sorry if I upset you by—”

“By looking so tense? So unsure of yourself?” she said.

“Yes.”

She didn’t add anything else. She returned to the party.

That’s how it was meant to be. The winner takes it all, and the loser has to fall. The gods had rolled their icy dice and struck down their favorite loser. It was simple. Why complain?

But if it was so simple, why was Ominis crying?

[cinnamoodles]

what are ur favorite anthony bridgerton five

hi! i'm assuming this says fics, and i am SO HONOURED that you trust me to recommend my favourite fics to you!

first up… the amazing and fantastic @fayes-fics, one of THE MOST skilled writers alive. she never misses!

some of my personal favs from her are:

➥ a beneficial arrangement [ ⭐️ ]

a marriage pact with a viscount. what could possibly go wrong?

➥ rescue and ruin

anthony rescues something for you… and it will likely lead to your ruin.

➥ the friends+ series

modern AU. series of fics that feature anthony & journalist!reader’s burgeoning relationship.

those are just a few of my favorites, but READ HER ENTIRE MASTERLIST! you will not regret it, promise.

secondly, a series of fics by the wonderfully talented @rubysunnday, and once again, be sure to read all of her masterlist!

➥ take my hand

as much as y/n appreciates anthony’s matchmaking efforts, it’s hard to accept them when he’s the only man she wants. luckily for her, a fall in the lake allows her to voice her feelings in more ways than one

➥ a long, long time

y/n has waited a long, long time for anthony bridgerton to finally decide to get married. but by the time he finally decides to find a wife, y/n has run out of time and anthony is suddenly faced with losing her to someone else.

➥ it’s a bad idea, me and you [ ⭐️ ]

y/n was ready to give her entire heart to anthony bridgerton. only for him to shove her aside in favour for sienna rosso. but, now, sienna is gone and despite what y/n keeps telling herself - anthony truly does own her heart.

now, for the queen of the modern!anthony au, @eleanor-bradstreet! some of my favorites from her are…

➥ gala

you attend a charity gala with your boss who really is too much trouble in a tux.

➥ locked out

when you find yourselves locked out of your house in the middle of the night, anthony has some ideas for how you can kill time.

➥ take me instead [ ⭐️ ]

you and anthony find yourselves in the middle of a bank robbery on an ill-fated day.

next we have @colettebronte, BRIDGERTON SMUT AUNTIE HERSELF WOOO!

(warning, these fics are VERY mature, and include BDSM and other possibly triggering material).

➥ rise and breathe

newly arrived back in london after a long journey across the mediterranean sea, you encounter a pathetically drunk viscount bridgerton the night he is rejected by sienna rosso. after a sobering morning on all counts, you sense that he is indeed lost and in need of a new purpose and direction. through submission and service, he may just find it.

➥ what (who) are you doing on new year’s eve?

a mysterious benefactor invites you to ring in the New Year with them.

➥ kinktober day ten: blindfolded

your tenth evening with your client. day ten for kinktober. I’m going with two prompts tonight, blindfolded and massage.

finally, we have some individual fics that stole my heart.

➥ diamonds and pearls by @multiharlot

diamonds and pearls do not make up for the lack of love in your marriage.

➥ enamoured by @dreamwritesimagines

everything you heard about matters of heart and desire told you the same thing; love could lead to heartbreak at best and disastrous results at worst. yet, you were convinced that everyone was wrong. they had to be, because love was supposed to make everyone happier, no confusion or pain in sight. regardless of how naive it sounded, you were sure that you were ready to fall in love and lose yourself in the infamous bliss. that assumption right there was a terrible mistake, though. you were nowhere near ready.

➥ right person, all the wrong times by @wwinterwitch

you and anthony have been in love with one another from the moment you met, but it seems as though nothing will ever happen between you. after you catch the attention of another gentleman, he realizes perhaps it's time to finally do something about his feelings.

➥ right in front of me by @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69

the only way he could rationally find a suitable wife was by removing love from the equation all together. courtship was game of jumping through hoops he really did not want to play, and he was a viscount. surely there would be a father with a more than suitable daughter he could simply ask for your hand and get it. or the one where your arranged marriage with anthony bridgerton isn’t a loving marriage… until it is.

➥ melt away by @healmydesires

the night you give your love and body to your husband.

➥ sham, pride, and illicit affairs by @peeterparkr

or, the story of how you rejected his proposal because you once loved him.

➥ enchanted by @imthebadguyyy

you and anthony don’t need words to converse.

➥ better man by @midnightfictionlibrary

anthony must rectify his rakish ways and wed, but he has a lot to think over if he doesn’t want to lose his dearest friend forever. 

➥ no longer in denial by @iwritefandomimagines

anthony has made no secret of not wanting to marry, despite it being more than clear that he is head over heels in love with you, his “best friend”. benedict decides he is fed up of anthony’s denial, and takes matters into his own hands — by inciting jealousy from his older brother.

➥ the language of flowers by @cinnamoodles (shameless self plug)

you and anthony have been friends for as long as you can remember, but what happens when his world turns upside down? will he open his heart and let the woman silently pining for him in?

AHH ok that was it, and these are the bridgerton fics i love with all of my soul. thank you so much for your ask, it was so nice to see all these wonderful fics again.

xo, lottie !

[twstowo]

They End Up In a Universe Where The Two Of You Hate Each Other [Twst]

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗SYNOPSIS: The two of you are happily dating and he couldn’t have asked for anything else, however, one day he finds himself in a strange place only to find that here the two of you are enemies.

♡︎Enemies to lovers????

♡︎Includes: Riddle and Leona

[AU Masterlist]

[Here] ☆[Azul and Jamil] ☆[Vil and Idia] ☆[Malleus]

⋆⋅☆Riddle

The fate of this Riddle had been written. He would ascend to the position of the King of the Queendom of Roses as his mother passed away, and he would transform into a worse tyrant than her. Eventually, everyone he thought he could trust would turn against him.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

Riddle was dumbfounded when he opened his eyes, only to find himself in front of thousands of people, a crown on top of his head, proclaiming him as the King of this strange land. The people in front of him bowed in fear of his rules, as he was nothing more than a tyrant in this unfamiliar place.

Days passed as he tried to comprehend how he ended up in such a peculiar setting – one where Night Raven College didn't exist, and his mother, once the queen, had just died, making him the King of the Queendom of Roses. Along the way, he encountered some of his friends such as Trey and Che’nya, but none of them seemed to enjoy his company, only interacting with him out of fear, just like anyone else. For Riddle, this didn’t make any sense. He knew that his past actions in his universe had been that of a tyrant, but he had changed with your help and that of his friends who were here by his side. Seeing himself in a similar situation again, he decided to alter the course of history that dictated he be betrayed by his own people.

“Stay still, or I will cut your throat.” Finally, you entered the picture. Riddle had questioned when you would show up since he arrived. At first, he thought that maybe you would be one of the party members seeking his hand in marriage, but he felt that wouldn’t entirely suit you. He knew that when you showed up, you would turn his world upside down because that was the impact you had in his universe. You stood in front of him, a knife dangerously close to his throat, ready to cut it if he made any stupid moves. If this had been someone else, he would have been ready to fight, ready to call the guards and collar you. However, deep down, even with a knife next to his neck, he knew that he could trust you.

You were an assassin, meant to kill the tyrant king, driven with only this purpose. It had been one of your group that had murdered the Queen, and now it only lasted for you to finish the job of ending the tyrant's bloodline. However, strangely after the king’s coronation, you started seeing a strange change in his actions. The once tyrant man who collared everyone in the city came back to uncollar them. He hosted tea parties for the people in the city and abolished some of the laws his mother had created. Did you really have to kill someone like that? Was he as bad as everyone made him seem? You decided to check for yourself, and with that, you found that Riddle was, in fact, someone with a gentle heart.

“I wish to undo what my mother started,” you heard his docile words, a questionable expression on your face. Did he really mean that? He could be trying to lower your guard to call the guards, but within his eyes, you saw no sign of lies. He meant what he had said, he truly wanted to better the Queendom. You decided to give him one chance, for if he failed, you would come back to take his life.

⋆⋅☆Leona

The fate of this Leona had been written. He would kill his brother out of jealousy for ascending to the throne, and over time, he would be overthrown by his own nephew, left to be alone and mocked.

──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ────

A story that Leona deemed fitting for him, as he once again witnessed his brother achieving what he had desired, becoming even here the shadow of his own brother. Most of his days were spent lazing around, knowing that no good would come from trying to follow the predetermined path laid out for him. Unless he did things differently.

The sweet taste of power was intoxicating, and he planned everything with immense detail, confident that everything would turn out perfectly. That was until he saw you. You, hailing from another land, sought to establish a peaceful connection between the realms. Upon seeing him, you strolled towards him with a fiery look, as if commanding him to behave. If it had been anyone else, he might have lost his composure, making sure you would regret ever looking at him disrespectfully. But he could never do that to you. He almost found the expression amusing, almost as if you had turned into his lucky angel, advising him to halt his plans before he could end up as fate had written for him here.

“Why are you always lazing around?” The sweet melody of your voice captured his attention, but there was nothing sweet about it. Your hands rested on your hips as you looked down at his figure. To anyone hearing you speak, it would seem as if you hated him, and to a point, you actually did. The fact that you saw so much potential in Leona, and yet the only thing he seemed to do was sleep, made you furious beyond belief. You had come from a family that demanded perfection, and perfection you had to become. Working day and night to fulfill their expectations, you aimed to continue their bloodline. Seeing someone like Leona, who appeared to have been born with everything you had to work so hard for, made you mad.

“Why not join me for once?” He asked, tapping the grass next to him, a mocking tone present in his voice as he checked if you could lower your guard to fulfill his wish. In truth, he just missed the moments back in his universe where he would lay his head on your lap as you talked about your day. Yet, the you from this universe wasn’t so thrilled with that idea, and he watched as you turned around with a roll of your eyes.

Your encounters were filled with glares, as you didn't seem to enjoy his company and spoke ill of him. However, somehow, even if mean, he found himself enjoying the time spent with you, albeit fleetingly. While he glanced at your departing figure, wishing to spend more time with you, he knew that, just like in his universe, you were meant to be by his side.

[gay-dorito-dust]

I’d like to request head cannons on how kisses with the Lin Kuei are like, for example are they quick and short are they messy are they slow are they gentle ext.

Tomas Vrbada:

Kissing Tomas is sweet, it’s goofy, it’s excitable but most of all kissing Tomas is tender.

Almost as though if he pressed his lips any further against yours, you’d break and shatter, so you’d probably have to be the one who has to deepen the kiss.

and or reassure Tomas that he can kiss you deeper and that you’re not fragile. You under stood his concern but you would always voice whether or not something was right.

Your relationship with Tomas is firmly built on communication and trust in the other to respect the boundaries that’s been put in place.

You wholeheartedly trust him to not hurt you and vice versa.

During the act of kissing, Tomas would begin to smile against your lips, sighing softly in content as he allowed himself to be immersed in the moment and nothing else outside of it; believing to be a disservice to you.

Kissing you makes Tomas giddy and joyful to the point it’s contagious and you end up smiling again his lips in kind, enjoying how Tomas could make something like kissing light and bubbly. As though it was your first kiss.

That’s what it was truly like to kiss Tomas, like it was your first.

Bi-Han

Bi-Han is a rough/possesive kisser.

Can’t tell me otherwise.

The man had bottled up his emotions so much that when it comes to kissing, he’s going to be manhandling you a little with those big hands of his, and you’re going to end up with bruising lips.

His kisses are domineering but passionate in a raw way.

They’re the type of kisses that could easily get you riled up with how he kept a sense of dominance over you throughout the act, that you couldn’t help but melt into him from the intensity he brings to something as intimate as kissing.

Which is ironic considering he runs extremely cold.

He’s the type to grunt/groan during a kiss on some occasions but not all.

Another thing to remember that it depends on his mood during the kiss also because if he’s even remotely annoyed, the kiss is going to be rough, kinda sloppy but enjoyable nonetheless the less.

Kissing Bi-Han was like suffocating in the most pleasurable way possible.

Kuai Liang

Kissing Kuai Liang is reaffirming, warm, safe.

Reaffirming in the way that he didn’t need words to remind of how much he loved you and instead did so through kissing you breathless, ridding you of any and all insecurities you may have been feeling at the time.

His kisses are languid, slow and purposeful in remembering how your lips felt on his, that oftentimes you grow impatient with how slow his lips would weave between your own.

Kuai Liang finds your impatience hilarious and endearing but would remind you of the importance of self indulgence, for life is fleeting and short that it’s better to prolong intimate moments likes these whenever possible; you’ll never know when the next time it could happen, if ever.

Needless to say you stopped complaining about Kuai Liang’s slow, languid pace afterwards and instead chose to embrace the fact that Kuai Liang wanted to savour every last kiss he had with you, and committing it to memory so that when he’s out on missions; he would knew what he was fighting for and who was waiting for him back home.

You were his motivation, his reason to come back alive.

Kissing Kuai Liang was like willingly knowing that these moments were never built to last, but you’d spend the rest of your life savouring them for the instance where you couldn’t anymore.

[inexplicifics]

More snippet requests: L/V cloaked, Gaetan/Letho Invictus 'verse, knight!Milena

L/V cloaked:

But first Lambert has to get the fuck out of these ropes, and they’re tied tight and well, and now they’re slick with his blood, too. He curses, muffled by the gag, and twists his wrists again - And then freezes, still as a startled rabbit, at the sound of unfamiliar voices. “Ah, hell,” says someone - a low, slightly raspy male voice. “Shit, it’s been a decade then,” someone else agrees - also male, slightly higher. “Fuck,” says a third man, soft and gravelly. “Why the hell do they do this?” the second voice asks, and then there’s a hand on Lambert’s shoulder, warm and startlingly gentle. “Hold still, lad. Let me get those ropes off you.” The heavy cloak is flipped aside, and strong fingers begin to work on the ropes. Lambert holds still, too confused to do anything but obey. And then, to his utter horror - “Get away from him,” says a voice he knows as well as his own heartbeat. “Don’t you touch him, monsters.”

Gaetan/Letho in Invictus:

Working for Coën is…weird, but good. Weird, because Gaetan hasn’t actually had a regular job like this before, and being polite to stupid people is not his strong suit. Good, because Coën handles most of the talking to people, and Gaetan just has to make the engines work properly again. He likes working with engines. They make sense. The bits all fit together and if they don’t then you’ve found the problem, now haven’t you? Gaetan actively enjoys taking a cranky, pissy, unhappily grumbling engine and poking at it until it’s purring like a pleased cat. It’s immensely satisfying. Also he’s getting paid for it, and pretty damn good wages too, which is nothing to be sneezed at. And Coën’s an even-tempered sort of man, who doesn’t expect the impossible and does know a hell of a lot about engines; Gaetan’s reasonably fond of him, and trusts him at least not to actively screw Gaetan over on purpose. Possibly a bit more, even.

knight!Milena:

Give the maybe-knight credit, as soon as his horse’s ears swivel, he’s whirling, drawing his sword again. Lambert stops a little ways away and nods as politely as he can manage. “D’you want the useful bits of that?” he asks, gesturing over his shoulder at the dead manticore. The maybe-knight shakes his head. “I will need something as a trophy, but if you would find the rest of it useful, sir, please help yourself.” Definitely not a knight. His voice hasn’t even broken. “Where’s your fuckin’ knight-master?” Lambert asks, frowning. “You can’t possibly be old enough to be out killin’ manticores by yourself.” Hell, up close the lad barely comes to Lambert’s collarbone, and with a soprano like that, Lambert’s pretty sure he’s maybe fourteen at the absolute outside. Sure, he’s good, but even the fuckin’ trainers don’t let green boys hunt monsters.

[mamayan]

I would love to see your thoughts on Kurapika 👀 what kind of yandere would he be? I personally think he’s the protective type that wants his darling to be happy despite kidnapping her

Good question Nonnie~

tw: NSFW • Yandere Themes • Toxic Mindset • Manipulation • Isolation • Paranoia • Mentions of Sex

Kurapika is a delusional and paranoid type yandere.

With his strong sense of justice, Kurapika feels wholly disgusted when his feelings of love take a darker turn into obsession and infatuation. So much so that he in fact, simply denies it is happening at all. He will justify every action he makes even if confronted about it.

Leorio or Gon may be the ones who try to talk sense into him, but he truly can’t see anything wrong with his actions. He wasn’t stalking you, he was walking you home… without your knowledge. He never hurt those guys who picked on you, he gave them a stern talking to… after drowning them in their own blood. He believes each and every action is for your benefit, whether you see it or not.

He also views you as incompetent, incapable of caring for yourself properly and therefore in need of him. Kurapika seeks purpose and use, so he finds a darling who can fulfill that or creates a situation in which they do. It’s not hard for a Pro-Hunter to make a regular little civilian’s life miserable and unlivable. He truly doesn’t have to do anything to make your job go up in smoke, your home, your friends and family. He sees it at his right to do so as well, he’s your protector and provider in his mind.

That being said, if his darling is cooperative and responsive, he’s likely the most reasonable type of yandere there is. To reciprocate his love and buy into his strange paranoia, his darling will be given almost as normal as a life as they can hope. Kurapika isn’t jealous of others, he’s worried they’ll harm you. He’s worried he’ll lose you most of all, so if you willingly stick close, reassure him, then he’s as close to a normal lover as you can get with a yandere.

The opposite remains true too though, because if his darling doesn’t give in, if they fight back at every turn? He becomes almost manic with stress and is likely to have a mental break. If your constant pushing throws him over the edge, he’s likely to snap and just imprison you. Take you into a basement and lock you up until you break. It’s easier if you’re compliant, and it will make his heart ache, but he’s a stubborn man and is willing to make that sacrifice for your safety.

Kurapika does draw the line at physically harming you. He’s a gentle lover through and through, and even sex with him is as such. He’s a service top at best, a switch leaning most of the time. If he trusts you, he’ll give up control for you if you’re being intimate. He likes you on top, riding him, because it feels like you want him all to yourself like that. He also enjoys sitting up with you in his lap too, the intimacy so much deeper for him and his cock inside of you. He’s also a hand holder, whether it’s with him on top or while you ride him and he offers his hand as a stabilizer for you to bounce easier. Either way, he likes holding your hand.

As a yandere, I’d say Kurapika falls under a 3/10 in the danger level. He does love you, but he doesn’t trust you either.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

[bairdthereader]

Julio Spring, let's have a chat.

I find this man hard to write about because sometimes he makes himself exactly what his son needs, and other times he's almost damagingly quiet. Without knowing too much about Julio's past (I think I've read everything Alice has written about him, but for the purposes of this post I'm going to focus mainly on what we know from the show), it can be hard to parse his motivations and actions. But one thing we know for sure is that Julio is deeply concerned for Charlie.

The most poignant scene between them is obviously when Julio hugs Charlie after Harry's party. He can sense immediately that something is wrong, very wrong, but has the intuition and sensitivity to push aside the intense curiosity he must be feeling about why, or the details of what happened, and addresses the most pressing issue--Charlie's need for comfort and support.

Though we never see it on screen, or even much in the books aside from some narrative flashbacks, this must be a tragically familiar scenario for Julio; after all, he's been through at least a year or more of dealing with the aftermath of the bullying Charlie experiences. How achingly difficult must it be for Julio to repeat "it's going to be okay" to his son when he knows there's a good chance it might not ever be truly okay. The trust that Charlie must have in Julio to allow himself to fall apart in front of him indicates that Julio must have handled those past crises with enough care to make Charlie see him as a safe space. [And we can't assume that Julio is safe for Charlie just because he's his father--Alice makes it clear in other storylines that safety with family is far, far from a given.]

Julio has gone through this enough times that, when it's time to drop Charlie off at the cinema, he's clearly torn between allowing Charlie the freedom he needs, and the space to make his own judgments about what he can handle, versus his parental desire to protect Charlie from harm. The fact that he gives Charlie that space earns him a lot of respect in my eyes.

Afterward, he can tell that the conversation between Charlie and Ben was an antagonistic one, and that his concerns were valid. There's nothing worse as a parent than anticipating hurt for your child and then having that fear come true. But Julio doesn't push, or dig for more. Maybe he should have, but those calls are always hard to make, and even harder to judge from the outside.

A lot of Julio's tender and caring moments happen in the first season, so it's hard to watch in season two when there are many scenes where Julio is so obviously upset, worried, or angry, and yet does nothing. Sometimes, admittedly, it's hard to know what to do, and that's valid, but we need him to try.

We need Julio, who understands Jane and where she's coming from at least a little better than Charlie does, to step in and mediate when she's clearly letting her own past and her parents' critical behavior impact how she's interacting with her son.

We need Julio to follow up on his concern, that niggling worry and doubt that he has, about Charlie not eating and isolating himself.

We need Julio to object when he witnesses Charlie engaging in negative self-talk, to bolster his son with words of support.

Julio Spring is a good dad who cares incredibly deeply for a son he can't always completely understand, but there's room for growth here too. I really hope we get to see that in season 3.

*And fear not, the infamous hanky panky conversation will get its own post.

[mspaintbrush]

Mauga thoughts

He is a biter

He WILL bite you if you hold him down

The only one who can really keep Mauga under control after Baptiste left Talon is Doomfist

Doomfist uses violence for that (of course) (he has been bit while holding him down) (uses his gauntlet hand around Maugas head now)

Mauga refuses to let Moira experiment on him (even though she'd love to), my boy has had enough of unpermitted alterations to his body, even though he liked the changes the first time

He really doesnt get along with Reaper

Reaper is very bitter/serious/stern about the fights and Talon's mission, completely opposite of Mauga who sees it as a game and a fun way to spend his time

Reaper tells Mauga regularily that this isnt a game and that he should stop playing with dying men

Mauga is not impressed by any of reapers threats, he finds them amusing at best

#1 reaper bully, walks through him on purpose on a daily basis just cause he likes the feeling of the smoke on his skin

Sombra sympathizer

There are not many other fun people to spend time with at Talon anyways

Sombra is weary of him and pretty quickly saw through his happy and laid-back mask when she watched him in battle

But she also doesnt have many optional conversation partners at the base, so they hang out and bully Reaper together

Sombra is fascinated with how he gets his hair so nice and fluffy (the secret is the blood of your enemies)

Pranks him sometimes by putting sticky notes on his back that he cant reach because he is too buff

He can play Ukulele or at least owns one (canon)

It used to belong to Baptiste

Mauga took it from his things after he left Talon, its his only reminder of their time together

Sometimes Mauga just holds it and plays a few notes when he is reminiscing

Together with his guns one of the only things he hates people touching

Could work really well with Lucio if he wanted to

Maybe I'm writing Lucio a bit very naive here but I feel like he could be fooled by Mauga's personality (and Mauga would take full advantage of that)

Like he would bring this dude to the base á la "hey guys meet my new friend he plays ukulele and is really fun" with Mauga just grinning as everyone stares in horror

Baptiste used Mauga as a couch during their Talon times (illegal murder operations dont really provide comfortable resting places, so you make due)

Both miss it, both have no one close enough to replicate the feeling (which doesnt mean they dont try)

Mauga leans his guns on his side or the ukulele on his chest, but since everyone has enough common sense to not go anywhere near him thats all he can do

I think it would be funny if during a mission brief a very tired Sigma leans onto him (he doesnt have this famous common sense to really notice the danger radiating off Mauga) and everyone holds their breath as it happens. Against all odds Mauga doesnt say anything as he quietly enjoys it. Its not a common occurence, much to Mauga's disappointment.

Baptiste sits on the side of the couch, owns a very big pillow and the tendency to lean onto people if he gets very tired (since most people arent a 6 foot mountain of muscle  though, they dont really have the necessary strength to hold him)

Some eventually catch on and subliminally try to persuade Reinhardt to sit next to Baptiste more often. Maybe Reinhardt notices it too, but definitely not as the first lets be honest. (Reinhardt is the general couch for everyone in Overwatch who wants to, i dont make the rules)

Mauga's body needs a LOT of nutrients and protein to keep up its shape, more so with him working out on the side, so this man is constantly eating

This guy is a foodie, gets really gnarly when he's hungry and even more ruthless and unpredictable

Fish is a main food in Samoa, but since Mauga has a strong connection to the ocean and the ecosystem behind it I dont think he would eat any fish he didnt catch himself. And he doesnt trust Talon enough to verify where the fish came from. So no fish for him right now.

Is a sweettooth, there a lot of sweet samoan dishes featuring coconut milk and fresh fruit from the island

He probably often complains about the cheap quality of the fruits Talon have to offer him. They get picked too early before truly ripe or just dont seem to have the same intense flavor as an island grown fruit would have.

Can and will crack a coconut easily by hand. Or rather by teeth.

(I wonder if that is humanly possible)

(I looked it up. You need around 610N to crack open a coconut. Humans can bite with about 1000-1400N. So its possible. Crazy.)

Being used to warm and tropical weather he struggles with any mission too far up north. He has to wear more clothing during those, limiting his mobility and effectiveness.

Probably has a hard time finding fitting clothes in general, Talon has a special seamstress just for this case. (And for Doom and Sigma too probably, they are huge)

Is a very well educated man and still keeps up with recent studies and research, especially revolving around marine biology.

He doesnt show this side of him in public, only reading when he is alone in his room.

Sigma is able to gain access to whatever books and publications he wants, nobody really double checks because they dont care or wouldnt understand anyway. So Mauga puts his desired books on Sigma's list and takes them from his lab once they arrive.

Sombra picks up on this eventually, since she spends a lot of time with Sigma. What will she do with this information? Who knows.

Sigma isnt aware of this but does wonder why there are books about non-physics topics around. Sometimes he looks at the colourful reef pictures.

Scuba Sigma - the origin story

favourite animal: shork

He knows how vital they are for marine life and relates to them.

They look and are told to be extremely aggressive, but arent. They still are incredibly powerful and efficient killing machines though. There is a nice metaphor compared to himself here. Somewhere.

Corrects anyone badmouthing sharks and doesnt care if that feels "out of character" to bystanders

Always wanted to learn how to surf but is lacking balance and a normal body size. And since being in Talon, time. And water. Everything really, but he thinks about it sometimes.

Good swimmer, his body shape is not super helpful but he makes up for it with great strength and form

Loves to dive, not necessarily in whole gear, but he can hold his breath longer than average

Generally just enjoys being in water

Knows how to catch fish (of course)

Usually you'd catch fish with a traditional net or maybe hook and rod, but Mauga knows how to spearfish and sometimes does it to show off

If there are no current missions he helps out carrying cargo and other equipment around Talon quarters. Its something of a practical workout for him.

Not a drinker. One or two bottles of beer at most. He wants to be in full control and aware of his sorroundings at all times.

He does pretend to be more intoxicated to provoke bystanders to let their guard down.

If he truly gets wasted he is the silent type. The "stares at you uncomfortably from a corner"-type. His extroverted and noisy facade disappears, revealing the cunning and sadistic spirit inside.

[toxictrannyfreak]

Alright, part 2 of The Way of Kings has excepts from a letter for its epigraph section, so l'm just going to collect all those fragments here and see if I can figure out what they're about. Fair warning, I don't know a ton about wider Cosmere stuff, so l'll probably fail.

Chapters 12-28 epigraphs:

*Minor Wind and Truth spoilers below!*

Old friend, I hope this missive finds you well.

Though, as you are now essentially immortal, I would guess that wellness on your part is something of a given.

I realize that you are probably still angry. That is pleasant to know. Much as your perpetual health, I have come to rely on you dissatisfaction with me. It is one of the cosmere's great constants, I should think.

Let me first assure you that the element is quite safe. I have found a good home for it. I protect its safety like I protect my own skin, you might say.

You do not agree with my quest. I understand that, so much as it is possible to understand someone with whom I disagree so completely.

Might I be quite frank? Before, you asked why I was so concerned. It is for the following reason:

Ati was once a kind and generous man, and you saw what became of him. Rayse, on the other hand, was among the most loathsome, crafty, and dangerous individuals I had ever met.

He holds the most frightening and terrible of all of the Shards. Ponder on that for a time, you old reptile, and tell me if your insistence on nonintervention holds firm. Because I assure you, Rayse will not be similarly inhibited.

One need only look at the aftermath of his brief visit to Sel to see proof of what I say.

In case you have turned a blind eye to that disaster, know that Aona and Skai are both dead, and that which they held has been Splintered. Presumably to prevent anyone from rising up to challenge Rayse.

You have accused me of arrogance in my quest. You have accused me of perpetuating my grudge against Rayse and Bavadin. Both accusations are true.

Neither point makes the things I have written to you here untrue.

I am being chased. Your friends of the Seventeenth Shard, I suspect. I believe they’re still lost, following a false trail I left for them. They’ll be happier that way. I doubt they have any inkling what to do with me should they actually catch me.

If anything I have said makes a glimmer of sense to you, I trust that you’ll call them off. Or maybe you could astound me and ask them to do something productive for once.

For I have never been dedicated to a more important purpose, and the very pillars of the sky will shake with the results of our war here. I ask again. Support me. Do not stand aside and let disaster consume more lives. I’ve never begged you for something before, old friend.

I do so now.

Obviously, no convenient section telling us who this is from. It seems to be from Wit/Hoid, and I think "the element" could be Wit's Dawnshard, which he carries inside him, alongside his skin (he "protects [the element] like [he] protects [his own skin]).

As for the intended recipient, I have no idea. Assuming “the element” is what I think it is, they were somehow involved in Wit taking his Dawnshard up again before coming to Roshar. They’re also not an original Shard, as Wits says they are “now essentially immortal” (emphasis added), implying that they haven’t been immortal for long. This rules out Edgli, who was really the only one I could think of. Wonderful.

As stated above, this is probably completely off.

[venusandsaturnsrings]

★彡 devoted little lamb!

synopsis: to worship was your purpose and it only made sense that this extends to the most beloved of priests.

contains: afab/fem reader, sacrilege, blood sacrifice, power imbalance, reader is a virgin, f.receiving oral, and fingering.

a/n: this is a full 3k words of blasphemy. please enjoy cuz i sure did!! ꒰(͏ˊ•ꈊ•ˋ)꒱

father Alhaitham was something of a miracle worker for you. with any troubles you could trust he’d dispel them with so much as a goblet to your lips and a prayer unspoken. such power, to anyone outside the church, should warrant fear. it should warrant caution and even a call to the matra. even in a world of elements, gods, and visions he was unnatural and worthy of bone trembling terror. you should find your skin prickling with fear upon the favour he bestowed to you yet, so much as a single raised hair was never felt. much like any other that attends his sermons, you revere father Alhaitham; he comes only second to your beloved god. blessed by the archon of wisdom herself, father Alhaithams knowledge knows no bounds. through his eyes you’re sure you could see the innermost workings of anything those viridian hues laid upon. he is positively worth all of the commotion the people, yourself included, give to him.

with slender fingers, he shuts the heavy text he’s surely already memorized. with every sermon you feel as though you see a new and more impressive side of father Alhaitham. no doubt, his mind and body are akin to the most divine of pastries; smooth layers to which only the most delicate and sharpest of knives could split open to admire the inner beauty. only metaphorically, of course, would you dream of splicing him so carefully. his voice reverberates over the room. honey smooth and laced with dominance came all his words; almost practiced, though, you knew he wouldn’t need it. what is practicing worth to a man who already has it all? his light bow and gesture for the acolyte to trail him had your guts in knots. a man as self assured as himself would make a lovely god, you think.

the cool tones, ones that nearly matched his eyes, of many stained glass windows shimmered down his form much like stars opening at his wake. you wouldn’t have been entirely surprised if the sky had opened up to gift him his own ever present galaxy. royal blue, gold, and jade painted over his already handsome features to create something you would have painted had you had the time. his skin and hair nearly glittered with how delicately the light graced him as though he was only porcelain, a vessel handcrafted by Buer for her most perfect messiah. one she’d fill with riches and a soul of the most lovely. his shoes made a soft ‘clack’ with each step he took across the hand tiled floor. you heard rumours that each one had been individually blessed by father Al-haitham but you wouldn’t dare bring such a ridiculous statement to his attention; you only desire to keep his favour. after every sermon you’d wait for the majority of the congregation to dispel before leading yourself to his office, your own personal taste of heaven.

the hallways are linear. to get from point ‘A’ to point ‘B’ was a task even a freshly born puppy could do so the first few times you got lost, father Alhaitham reprimanded you with a firm hand on your shoulder. he wasn’t truly mad but you felt something you’d never felt before when he mumbled about how, ‘you’re such a silly one. a lost little lamb, hm? no matter, you’re here now.’ with a voice that reached your stomach it was no wonder how he’d managed to wrap you around his finger. with gentle knuckles, you knocked against the bright wood door. the man in question opened the door as if he’s been waiting on the other side for your arrival; due to routine, he had been.

“you’re here. come now, today will be a bit… different from our usual sessions. i’m afraid i have concerns about your… state,” such words he’d never spoken to you before. with knitted eyebrows he re-closed the door before giving you a once over, right hand under his chin. the room was already dim due to the window facing away from the sun but with his presence seeming as though it loomed alongside your demise, it felt even darker. he stepped towards his desk which had already been covered in a number of tools you’d seen before; a rosary, a glass of holy water, a golden goblet of dandelion wine, and bread. yet, one was unfamiliar to you; what looked to be a freshly polished silver knife, a cross engraved in the handle. father Alhaitham glanced over his wares before letting out a long sigh and nodding to himself as if receiving his own approval. maybe after this you’d be on the end of this nod rather than a collection of objects. he spoke without turning to look at you, “i sense what can only be described as sin bubbling up within you,” he shook his head with clear upset, “this cannot go unattended. you are one of my, and our gods, most wonderful treasures. please, allow me to purify you.” had you not been so trusting of him you’d have thought your god was an afterthought in his actions but fear flourished faster than you could think. with trembling legs and tears beading in the corners of your eyes, you begged. you begged for him to make you clean once more, for whatever this sin was to no longer afflict you, for father Alhaitham to praise you once more. those with sharp minds would decode your words accurately; you were begging for his love, not your gods. he swivelled and his gaze found you once more, “righteous as always. forgive me, but i require you to remove all your clothing. on our beloved god, i will not look for the sake of your modesty. instead, i will busy myself with the final preparations for our ceremony.”

he rolled up his sleeves to reveal the pearly skin of his forearms. on other occasions perhaps you’d stop to admire the display of skin but you were given a task, to strip. your shaky fingers began removing your clothing and folding it nearly on a small side table located in the corner of the room as he prepared the stone altar against the window with a combination of holy water, myrrh, sweetgrass, and sage. father Alhaitham took his time delicately preparing the surface, hands lovingly applying the mix and massaging it into every crevice with a level of sensuality that had you averting your eyes. with all clothing shed, you modestly covered your most intimate parts while mentally steeling yourself for his eyes to land on you. when he turned, if he had any feelings about the view of your body in its most natural state, his expression did not waver from one of concern. before ridding his hands of all residue, he gestured to the stone alter, “please, lay down.”

cold, damp, and unpleasant were all words you could attribute to the experience of your bare skin atop the surface. your nose wrinkled a slight bit and you tried to find comfort in knowing it would heat up through your body and that this is all for your own good. after this, you’d be clean of sin once more. father Alhaitham returned to your side, rosary in hand. nimble fingers gently guided your shaky ones to hold it the way you had many times before when praying at his side. typically, you found that he had no patience for any nervousness but it today, for you, he made no comment or move to chide you. though you were lying down, soon bread was placed against your palate by his own hand. he gently drew it back to caress your cheek with what could only be described as the most tender of care. with such worry directed to you by father Alhaitham, you could nearly cry; it’s a blessing in its own right. the goblet soon followed, wine pouring into your mouth and the slightest bit down the corner and across your cheek. this time, no hand came to remove it though his eyes followed its path down your neck. he swallowed harshly and paused in his movements momentarily before turning back to take up the knife. if you were nervous before, you were terrified now.

“relax. i promise i would never do anything to you that wasn’t required, especially if it involves pain,” he almost looked as if your pain would be his own and perhaps it was. you didn’t dwell on this thought for it was a selfish one. the pain of any loyal worshipper of the same god would be his own, you are no special exception. “for this portion, i will draw gently upon your form. along each arm and leg, from the bottom of your ribs to your navel, and across each breast. this knife is sharp so it will take no more effort than the weight of the handle. i urge you to refrain from moving.” you sucked in air in tandem with him as the blade first came to your sternum. his words were most certainly truthful, expected of a priest, as he added no extra pressure when gently dragging it lower. the first thing you registered was just how cold the tip of the knife is, the second was the sharp pain. your slight wince didn’t go unnoticed as father Alhaitham mumbled an apology. he raised the knife from your flesh when it came to the end of his mental line. the blades edge took on a dark sheen of your blood that he looked over. his most beautiful eyes inspected the silver before dropping to where the knife had cut; he hummed in satisfaction before bringing it to just below your left hip, the next place he’d cut. father Alhaitham took to softly singing a hymn you were familiar with, seemingly to comfort you as the blade came across all your limbs in the following moments. it rose up to your chest where he gulped. no longer could he ignore just how bare your are under him and just how dollish your eyes were as they fluttered, glazed over in both pain and fear. while his right hand placed the knife appropriately, his left came to cup your cheek. with his thumb soothing across your flesh, you barely noticed how he cleanly cut atop each of your breasts. you were simply too caught up in the delightful feeling of his skin against your as you lay exposed to his lowered gaze. had you not been so assured in the professional nature of this encounter, you would have noticed the increasing thickness in the air that could only be attributed to the intimacy and the arousal you had not noticed pooling between your folds; father Alhaitham did.

he stood up straight and drew away from you to admire the work he had done. your form under the soft light of the window and painted in your own blood, the most lovely of sacrifices. the goblet was in his hand once more as he brought it to collect the blood dripping down your waist and sides, mixing with the remnants of wine previously drank. the metal was wonderfully blunt compared to the blade that had just split your flesh open. with what he gathered, father Alhaitham dipped his thumb in to draw the horizontal and vertical lines to complete a cross on all seven of the cuts he had made; one for each element of Teyvet. he was more than satisfied with his work, if the soft smile gracing his features was anything to go by.

“my dearest little lamb, it pleases me greatly how well you’ve done for me here but,” he seemed to be conflicted by his next words, “would you allow me to indulge myself in you?” the meaning of his words was lost on you but how could you ever decline him? how could you ever decline the one that has given you purpose, light, and salvation should you ever need it? you nodded and half expected him to request your words as he always does but, today only a movement was enough for him. “please, continue holding the rosary as you are.” strong hands pulled you down the stone by your knees until you rested with your lower legs dangling off the edge which elicited a sigh from your most beloved priest; your pliancy always did please him. with hands still on you, he gently parted your legs as he kneeled between them before speaking in a tone lower than you had heard before, “consider this my own kind of worship.”

your face was certainly flushed already but it heated up tenfold as his tongue made its way through your soft folds and you could hear him sigh as your grip on the rosary became tighter. he used the tip to gently poke through and play softly with your virgin entrance, one hand coming up to push the lips of your pussy open much like a flower blooming. your hips jerked slightly as his nose came in contact with a spot you weren’t familiar with but that felt so very good. a whimper left your throat as a moan left his, the vibrations travelling through your cunt and causing a whole new gush of slick to leave your pussy. eagerly, father Alhaitham lapped it up before bringing his lips to your clit. he planted a couple soft kisses to your pretty and glistening nub before wrapping his lips around it and suckling oh so perfectly. he knew you were a virgin but didn’t expect you to come undone on his face with only a slight suck to your cute little clit. a sudden and loud whine left your mouth as your back arched to push your pussy further against his face. the feeling of an orgasm was entirely new to you but you were already addicted to the intense pleasure brought by your priest. he leaned back slightly, panting and in reasonable amounts of shock from such a sudden reaction. with your wetness still on his face, he mumbled to himself, “apologies but i suspect i’ll have to worship for awhile longer.”

you didn’t even have time to come down from your first high before his face was settled into the heat of your core once again. a small sob left your throat upon the contact but you couldn’t help the way your hips bucked up to meet his mouth. father Alhaitham, as always, knew exactly what you wanted and needed. his tongue worked wonders as it gently fucked into your hole, where his cock would rest at a letter date, and his fingers moved to gently flick at your clit. he buried his face impossible closer to you only to inhale the scent your pussy let off, one he could spend the rest of his days smelling like some sort of inhalant drug. his mouth and fingers swapped places so he could lathe over your clit and provide teasing nips to the sensitive bundle. with one gently finger, he circled your hole to gather more wetness before slowly plunging into you. as if an apology for the sting, he kissed at your clit endlessly before twisting his finger to provide the perfect angle he needed. with your utmost comfort in mind, father Alhaitham waited until your sobs subsided before fucking you gently with the single finger. he curled it slightly and made sure to push up against where he knew would have you writhing on the alter as he nipped once more at your clit to keep you grounded in the reality of his face between your legs.

for a man with, what you assumed, no prior experience he sure knew how to fuck you without his dick. all his concentration was solely on how much he was falling in love with your pretty pussy and how much he wanted to die buried between your thighs. gods be damned, you were his new religion and your moans his scripture. he was pulling orgasm after orgasm from you, rutting against the side of the alter. his cock rubbed harshly against the stone through his pants and while he mourned for the warmth you’d most certainly provide, he’s nothing if not patience. you, his most devoted lamb, were to be rewarded with all his mouth can give. your grip on the rosary became tight enough that it broke, beads falling down to the floor. you’d have been appalled at how careless your treatment of such a sacred object was had you not been so caught up in the pleasure bestowed to you. with eyes rolling back into your head and a particularly high moan, you drenched his face. father Alhaitham would take it as his new holy water, siphoned directly from his own personal fountain of youth and most importantly, from his lover. he panted much as you did as well but this task was far from over for him. how could he end things here when he craved so much more? when your pretty hole was fluttering so enticingly and when his cock was so very close from emptying his balls inside his pants? only a fool would hold back now, he thought as his mouth placed open kisses and bites to your thighs for slight mercy to your already abused cunt. a dreamy sigh left his watering mouth, you really do smell delightful. he spat onto your pussy in a rather debauched fashion before drawing his tongue up from the cleft of your ass to the top of your cunt. with eyes finally drawing back up and across your form, he mentally sent a genuine prayer to your shared god. one so filthy he’d most certainly be sent straight to hell upon death but he couldn’t find it in himself to care; hell could be delightful as long as you’re there with him. his eyes dropped back to your pussy.

“c’mon little one, a bit more for me. you truly are my favourite.”

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Totems are a universally hated item so people likely see them as gaudy carved pieces of wood that probably smell like truffle oil or dirt or seashells. Surprisingly Lance likes them as a gift, but Rasmodius hates them (maybe he realizes later that they're actual warp totems and beats himself up about dismissing you at first, hehe).

Can I have your headcanons on Lance, Magnus (and anyone else you like) finding out their friend, the Farmer, can somehow make magical totems?

Yeah, I can :D

Btw, I always thought it was more correct to think of totems as neutral gifts for Magnus. Like, 'thank you, Farmer, but I can teleport on my own without them'. Lance likes warp totems also makes sense, because it's unclear what he uses to teleport around Ginger Island (his magic or the same totems), but it's still a useful things for him.

But I digress, let's get to our question (thanks for this ask, dear anon! ☺️):

_________________________________________

It's true what they say - a talented man is talented in everything. Lance was once again convinced of this quote when the Farmer kindly presented him with handmade warp totems throughout the Valley. What's most interesting to the adventurer is how did the Farmer learn to make them without anyone else's help? Magnus certainly didn't give them recipe and didn't train them, as that would require official permission from the Ministry of Magic. On the other hand, no one from the Ministry forbids Farmer from making totems again, so maybe it's some sort of unspoken consent? Either way, Lance is torn by his own curiosity, and if the Farmer themself is okay with it, he'd like to hear how they learned to craft the magical things.

On the one hand, Magnus considers the Farmer to be a very gifted youth who would be the pride of any teacher of magic, alchemy, and other arcane arts due to their talent in spells and enthusiasm for learning. On the other hand, developing one's own talents so quickly and without proper supervision could be very dangerous for both the Farmer themself and those around them. So after the Farmer made a totem for Rasmodius, he praised them, but strongly recommended that they at least read a book on the safety rules of using totems, protective amulets, etc. It would keep the Farmer safe, and Magnus would be much more at ease.

Oh, Alesia didn't know that the Farmer's were also a mage/witch/sorcerer. Which is rather unusual, as she doesn't remember Marlon officially introducing them to her as a mage. Sniper sincerely hopes that the Ministry has given Farmer permission to make totems and use spells, for she doesn't want the careless Farmer to frame themself and their mentor Marlon. What? No, she doesn't make the totems, Alesia only uses them. Camilla makes them. Because the Castle Village has its own rules and responsibilities for adventurers, telling them what they can and cannot do, lest there be chaos and misuse of magic and artifacts for selfish purposes. Many trust the Farmer, and Alesia will, but she gives them fair warning so that there will be no further misunderstandings.

[tenebris-lux]

Old friend, I hope this missive finds you well. Though, as you are now essentially immortal, I would guess that wellness on your part is something of a given.

I realize that you are probably still angry. That is pleasant to know. Much as your perpetual health, I have come to rely upon your dissatisfaction with me. It is one of the cosmere’s great constants, I should think.

Let me first assure you that the element is quite safe. I have found a good home for it. I protect its safety like I protect my own skin, you might say.

You do not agree with my quest. I understand that, so much as it is possible to understand someone with whom I disagree so completely.

Might I be quite frank? Before, you asked why I was so concerned. It is for the following reason:

Ati was once a kind and generous man, and you saw what became of him. Rayse, on the other hand, was among the most loathsome, crafty, and dangerous individuals I had ever met.

He holds the most frightening and terrible of all of the Shards. Ponder on that for a time, you old reptile, and tell me if your insistence on nonintervention holds firm. Because I assure you, Rayse will not be similarly inhibited.

One need only look at the aftermath of his brief visit to Sel to see proof of what I say.

I’m case you have turned a blind eye to that disaster, know that Aona and Skai are both dead, and that which they held has been Splintered. Presumably to prevent anyone from rising up to challenge Rayse.

You have accused me of arrogance in my quest. You have accused me of perpetuating my grudge against Rayse and Bavadin. Both accusations are true.

Neither point makes the things I have written to you here untrue.

I am being chased. Your friends of the Seventh Shard, I suspect. I believe they’re still lost, following a false trail I left for them. They’ll be happier that way. I doubt they have any inkling what to do with me should they actually catch me.

If anything I have said makes a glimmer of sense to you, I trust that you’ll call them off. Or maybe you could astound me and ask them to do something productive for once.

For I have never been dedicated to a more important purpose, and the very pillars of the sky will shake with the results of our war here. I ask again. Support me. Do not stand aside and let disaster consume more lives. I’ve never begged you for something before, old friend.

I do so now.

The beginning chapter snippets of Part Two of The Way of Kings when put together.

If the speaker is who I suspect they are, their demeanor in this letter is very different than usual.

[shmowder]

Hello! Firstly id like to say how much I enjoy your writings. And I was wondering your opinions on Stanislav Rubin, and if you have written anything about him yet?

Thank you very much. I'm glad that even though I post a lot of memes and silly things, people still remember that this is a writing blog at its core.

Ah Stakh, the man, the myth, the legend Rubin himself. I absolutely adore him. He's like what happens if you drop the soul of a 90' anime tsundere into a survival horror middle age man.

Rip Stanislav, you would've loved going Hmp >:/. You would've loved posting blank black screens on your snapchat with a single dot in the text bracket. You would've loved getting away with throwing heavy-duty physical objects at Artemy in the name of comedic effect during fillter beach episodes.

What's so interesting about him is how much the narrative is out there to get him. How much his story tells a complicated relationship about bline love, trust, and abuse.

At times, it seems like Rubin loved Isidor more than his own son ever did from the amount of faith he held in him. Especially when that said person took advantage of his willingness to serve in order to do the dirty work.

That's probably why Rubin is acting extremely difficult during the game. He's grieving deeply. He seems lost and devoid of purpose, so he clings to whatever new problem he can find to give himself purpose. He works himself to an early grave just so he doesn't have time to think, and if you don't interfer as Artemy, he's successful.

Rubin's extremely devoted to his own set of morality, even when it contradicts itself and hurts him in the process. It's like he's willing to dig himself further into a mess even if he knew the chances of him solving it alone are very slim.

He'd rather do it himself than ask for help.

But it doesn't feel like pride, more like spite. That's the thing him and the bachelor have in common. They're both moved in spite of the universe and not because of.

Meanwhile, Artemy does things out of love for the universe. It explains why Rubin was described by the developers as being Artemy's rival.

Stakh was the best student Isidor ever had, the most diligent and quickest to learn, even a better student than his own son.

But that's exactly the problem. That's all he was great at, being an excellent student. Isidor didn't want a student for life. He wanted a new Menkhu to replace him, to pave the way for the future. How could he let someone who always looks to others for guidance ever take the lead?

Rubin decided to follow the bachelor when it came to curing the plague. In P1, Rubin used to be a soldier and an extremely good one at following orders too before he had to come back hom from a head injury.

In P2, when Rubin is devoid of purpose again, he doesn't try to be his own person and pave his own path. No, instead he sticks with the familiar and goes to join the army.

In the marble nest where Artemy is dead, Daniil says that Rubin has already joined the army and he could be behind any of those soldiers' masks.

What's the alternative future for him? Remaining a student. But for Artemy this time, who successfully took his father's place in p2.

Rubin and Bad Grief were the first ever people to fall out from the friend group after Artemy left, and it makes sense with how opposite they are in nature.

Grief saw how good he was at doing what he is, how excellent he is at being a gang leader and how easily this life came into his hands with very little work. He almost seems perfect for the job of being a glorified sketchy shopkeeper with a dangerous front as a gang leader.

He saw that, and he hated it. He wanted out. He wanted freedom and to break from the narrative. He acted out of script and went to the Inquisitor with his own two legs, closed shop, and threw away that perfect life, which was designed especially for him.

Meanwhile, Rubin longs back for that life. For Isidor to crawl out of the grave and tell him what to do next, even if it meant he will be mistreated and forced to bear the sins of his master just so Isidor keeps his own hands clean. He wants someone more knowledgeable to direct him again, tell him what to do, where to go and what to say.

Grief adored freedom, but Rubin loathed how terrifying it was. Grief understood the way of the world, how everyone is masquerading as their roles, how the whole of humanity is a game of pretend we play with each other, a mere facade. He understood that, and he climbed up as a result of playing his cards well. Or at least, life handed him the perfect hand for his role.

Rubin's black and white view of the world was his doom. Isidor was right and could never do anything wrong in his eyes, even when it was Rubin suffering because of him. Grief was bad. Therefore, he could never do anything right no matter what explanation he gives.

Artemy abandoned his father, therefore he is forever responsible for Isidor's murder in Rubin's eyes.

It's almost funny how throughout the whole game, as Artemy, you keep getting reminded of how much Rubin hates you and wants you dead.

Yet when he invents the panacea after you neglect your job, he fully credits it to you as your invention. The inquisitor even says so.

Love and hate are like dusk and dawn, different angles, but still the same sun.

Rubin's hate for Grief and Artemy proves that he still cares about them above all.

Even then, it doesn't take much convincing for him to abandon that hate. Almost as if he wants to be rid of it himself but can't do it on his own, he requires you to talk to him and give him that one final push. Aware of it or not, he has always looked to others for help despite him trying his best to handle things alone.

-

Now, as for writing something about him, I haven't yet. I would love to, he seems very fun to write. Emotionally constipated characters usually are.

But do you mean as a ship or x reader?

If it's a ship, something with Artemy is my first thought.

I know Isidor was in the process of adopting Rubin and that he refers to him as father sometimes. But all of that happened after Artemy left the town and not before.

So while Rubin and Isidor saw themselves as found family, Rubin and Artemy never did. Their last time together was spent as childhood best friends, and not once do they refer to each other as siblings or imply it.

To me they will always be just childhood friends. Artemy was estranged from his own father for 10-5 years depending on the game and Rubin filled that spot in the meanwhile. The sole reason for the adopting thing was just to get Rubin the right to cut bodies and nothing more in Isidor's case.

Rubin might have seen him as a father figure, but I doubt Isidor saw him as anything but a student, let alone a son.

In his dairy during his last days before death, Isidor only speaks of Artemy. Wishing his son was by his side.

And in Artemy's case, he immediately forgives Rubin for so many things during their first meeting in P1. And in P2, he still attempts to talk and have a resemblance of a friendship with him.

Artemy literally follows him like a kicked puppy, wanting his best friend back and desperately attempting to mend things with Rubin. The fics practically write themselves at this point. Stakh clearly likes Artemy but he won't let himself easily give into the temptation because he is just angsty like that.

Maybe that "rivally" was extremely one-sided in Rubin's case.

-

But for x reader, you're not Artemy so you'll get very favourable treatment.

He's already willing to let himself burn at the stake for someone else. Rubin and Eva both share the passion to sacrifice themselves for the sake of someone else, ironically enough.

The only difference is that Eva took the hopeless romantic path whole Rubin took the selfless devotion one.

He'd do well with someone who is soft and caring, that man requires a hug that lasts a century. He needs someone to be patient with him, someone wise who understands him better than he understands himself. Someone be there for him to fall back on.

Stakh is the type of person who will mould himself to your expectations and needs rather than just let himself...be himself. He will think the way he is just isn't enough to get you to stay in love, and so he will try to adapt what you deem impressive and love-able.

Breaking himself in the process.

A reader who gets him out of that cycle would be perfect. Someone who reassures him that he is enough. That he doesn't need to set himself ablaze just to keep you warm.

He will be extremely awkward in love. He doesn't have a single romantic bone in his body. But he's nothing if not a fast learner.

it's clumsy attempts at the start, but eventually, he learns to speak his feelings more. Words of sincerity and promises of devotion acting as his flirting.

He stares at you a lot with his big round, lovely brown eyes. Across the room? he's looking at you until you come talk to him. Suddenly, he's not slouching so much. It's endearingly embarrassing how honest his eyes can be when his lips won't admit that he needs you.

He will cling to you as time goes on. Why exactly can't he go out with you when you're hanging out with your friends? Listen he knows this is just a grocery trip but he wants to walk there with you and carry the bags.

One time, you took too long in the bathroom at night, and he woke up from sleep just to knock at the bathroom door and ask when you were going back to bed. You found him half-asleep sitting on the ground near the door when you opened it.

[cannibalspicnic]

I've seen a few different people referring to Ro Laren's death as a "fridging" or saying that she was "fridged" etc. It's been bugging me for a while, so I would like to address it because not only does it misrepresent the concept of women in refrigerators but it does a disservice to Ro's character in my mind.

The concept of women in refrigerators came from Gail Simone who noticed a trend of how female superheroes were treated and subsequently killed in comic books after Katma Tui (a female superhero) was pretty unceremoniously sliced up and stuffed into a refrigerator for Hal Jordan (Green Lantern) to find. The brutalization and lack of agency is a huge aspect of women in refrigerators.

"I can't quite shake the feeling that male characters tend to die differently than female ones. The male characters seem to die nobly, as heroes, most often, whereas it's not uncommon, as in Katma Tui's case, for a male character to just come home and find her butchered in the kitchen." -Gail Simone

Generally, a fridged woman not only doesn't have agency in her own death, but the death itself is meaningless to her character development and storyline.

One of Ro Laren's defining character traits is that she is prepared to sacrifice herself, her career, her relationships, her moral certainty to do what she thinks is right. It makes total sense to me that she would be ready to die so Picard could get away.

Another part of Ro's character is her search and struggle for someone to trust and to believe in. A large part of why she betrayed Picard was the old man who reminded her of her father and who probably held beliefs more common to the ones with which she was raised. Her final act being one of trust brings a certain closure for her character that's just hers.

And I thought there was vindication for her. Picard is so far up his own ass about Starfleet, and she's the one who had to bonk him on his head about complete faith in any institution. She was the one bringing one of the major themes of the whole season into clarity because she has always understood the moral complications of war and knows that no side comes out unchanged or untainted.

Anyway, I'm not saying anyone has to like her death or not have a problem with her being brought back just to be killed off, but I very strongly disagree with calling her a fridged woman. Yes, the storyline and Picard's character were advanced because of her death, but that was not the only purpose her death serves.

Thanks for your time!

I will now go back to simping for Vadic.

*climbs off soapbox*

[post-it-notes7]

Is there a reason as to why Falspar is so protective of Dragato or is he that way with all his friends? I think you once implied something between them

Oh boy anon, strap in this is going to be a long one. It's time for some GSA backstory.

(Fair warning, this'll make the most sense if you've read most of my fics, namely In Your Dreams and dumb luck)

So, starting off! The four remaining orbs of the GSA (Arthur, Nonsurat, Dragato, Falspar) all went through some rough character development following the abrupt split of the GSA (where Nightmare attempted to wipe all of them out in one fell swoop, and what caused MK to be split up along with the rest of them, leading everyone to be presumed dead.) This took place several years ago on the H&S timeline, marking the gray period when MK thought he was truly the last star warrior, and leading all the way to Kirby landing in Dreamland, and so on.

Almost everyone was scattered to a different part of space, with Arthur being sent in one direction, Dragato in another, and Nonsurat and Falspar being the only two who ended up in nearly the same place. From then on, it took years for the four of them to reassemble. This had different effects on everyone.

Arthur had to grapple with the fact that he'd lost his entire army. This evolved into a far worse paranoia about losing what little he has left, and made him fearful that his entire purpose (to defeat Nightmare) was essentially now a lost cause. Nonsurat used to council Arthur much more regularly about decisions, as he helped shaped the GSA with Arthur and served as his right-hand-man. However, upon reuniting, Nonsurat had grown his own fears, and now worried that pushing against Arthur's word would end up fracturing what small pieces were left of the GSA. It's a mess. Their current relationship is built off of ignoring everything bad that's already happened in hopes of making something better out of it. All of them could really use the time in Dreamland to relax.

Now we move onto Dragato. He became much more independent in the time spent split from the rest of the group. If you compare him to his past self in the fic dumb luck, he knows the importance of working as a solid group, and he also trusts Arthur's commands. He doesn't like solitude. He'd never turn against the GSA—but years later, after the split, in In Your Dreams, he has the experience of functioning on his own that lets him wake up to the fact that Arthur's plans aren't reflecting the true spirit of the GSA's anymore. Arthur has changed, and that the only way to stop Arthur from leading the group down a bad path is for Dragato to break away from it, and demand they reassess themselves.

If you're still with me, it's now finally time to get to Falspar! He was the most outgoing and social of the group, and being torn from the GSA, the community he'd come to see as his home, was bad. It was real bad. Falspar thrives in company, and finding himself all alone is terrible fear of his. If Nonsurat hadn't been there with him for the duration of the split, he does not know what he would have done with himself. Now that the four of them have come back together, with Nightmare gone, he will do everything in his power to keep them safe from harm, even if that means acting on complete impulse and fumbling his way through it until it works. Arthur brought them together in the first place, and he has to trust that following Arthur now is the only way to ensure that everything stays that way. He can't keep lose others. He doesn't know what he'll do if he finds that he's alone again.

And so, with that context out of the way, we get to Falspar's current relationship to Dragato.

They were recruited into the GSA around the same time, they rose through the ranks together until both becoming generals, each for their own reasons, and they're essentially best friends. They get into arguments a lot, as shown in dumb luck, but at the end of the day they care about each other. They want to outlast the war together.

Somewhere along this time, Falspar developed a small crush. He didn't tell Dragato. In fact, he squashed it down and pretended it didn't exist until it became scarily apparent how much of his heart he had put into the idea "we'll make it through the war together."

Dragato on the other hand, is completely and entirely oblivious.

Once more, in dumb luck, it's discussed that Dragato is well-versed in shoving aside his emotions so he can focus on the necessary conflicts at hand. So long as there's something he views as more important than himself going on, he is focusing on that and relying highly on the logical side of things to get him through it, not so much his own emotional input. He doesn't think he can reliable trust his own emotions when they get him in so much trouble at times (i.e. challenging Falspar to a duel out of essentially a stress-induced, emotional panic). He's not good at reading what he feels. Falspar is his friend, but in dumb luck it's possible see just how little of a grasp he has on what that means to himself, and how he actually feels about it. He cares for him, certainly, but he can't gauge how much, and often not until some damage is done.

He could requite Falspar's feelings, and have no idea.

This sort of disconnect makes it that Dragato is easily blindsided by his own emotions. He needs time to adjust to a life without the threat of NME hanging over his head before he can focus on himself. Until then, he's sticking with the notion that Falspar is his friend, whether it means they're standing on opposite sides or not. After all, together is a much looser concept to him. The both made it out alive, what more could he have asked for.

Falspar is taking this far worse. They've made it through the war, but there's so many loose ends to tie up and they've lost so much that his idea of the future is no longer simple. He loves Dragato, but there's no place for that when there's still NME monsters to pick off, and a new potentially galaxy-wide threat to fear. He doesn't know if Dragato will ever see him as more than a friend. He doesn't know if Dragato's idea of together was only the GSA.

One thing is certain though, and it's that despite orders from Arthur, his duty as a star warrior, and common sense, Falspar will always put Dragato's safety first. If he loses him, what's left of his dream would be gone. Falspar doesn't know if his heart could take it.

So, to answer your question at last anon! Falspar has always been protective of his friends, though the time spent separated twisted this into something he completely panics about under certain circumstances. Dragato is his friend, and then some, and he'll always be Falspar's first concern.