#my father used to dance with me like this

[thanosscross]

HII I REALLY LOVE YOUR WORK SO MUCH, i hope your willing to write about pregnant reader x thanos yk, thanos didn't know she was pregnant before they break up and then they meet up again the games and he finds out player 222 and player 333 type stuff 😭

Of course! We love this!!

Good person - Choi Su- Bong x pregnant! reader

Summary: After leaving Thanos, you encounter him again in a serious death game, only this time the stakes are lot higher

Warnings: Not much, just your usual squid game gore

A/n: Sorry it's so short! I'm going to try and start adding some length to my stories again especially my Thanos stories so stay tuned for those longer stories, trust me they are coming, they're just takin a lil time

You had told yourself whenever you signed up, you'd be as careful as possible, and that it was all for your baby, after leaving their father and being disowned for choosing to be single mother, you were left with little to nothing, so of course you took the chance to get money.

As you woke up in the giant room you soon came to regret your decision, seeing your sperm donor just a few feet in front of you, focused on the screen reading off debts "Y/n L/n, 25 million won" The guard shouted, showing you getting smacked across the face, quickly holding an arm over your stomach afterwards. Almost like he knew, as soon as your name was called out, his head snapped to yours "Senorita! You're here!?" He shouted in shock "No Way!" He shouted as he walked closer, you attempted to curl your body up away from him, but due to the six month pregnancy belly, you could only bend your legs closer to you slightly.

"Please leave, Thanos" You grunted, trying your best to keep him at a distance, for all he knew you had taken a plan B after your last hook up and that was it. Instead he just kept approaching until he was standing in front of you "What're you doing here!?" He asked excited, you just shook your head "trying to get my family and I money after my sorry excuse of a boyfriend convinced me to buy stupid ass crypto?" You said like it was obvious, it wasn't like you were entirely lying, you just didn't specify what family.

Going into red light green light, you were cocky at first, knowing you could do this easy, until the shooting started, players falling left and right, while your baby dad just skipped and danced his way to you down the field "You never answered me, Senorita" He repeated, placing his hands on your hips, terrified of what he might do, especially after watching him shove other players to win "I-I'm pregnant" You blurted, you couldn't help it, between your fear of dying by Thanos or the game was too much, you just wanted to get out of this alive, you didn't think it'd be this serious, if you did, you never would've done this. "Haha" He laughed sarcastically before looking at your face as the doll called out red light, he was in front of you now, and you were visibly shaking, Thanos using his body to try and shield you from the sensors "for real, flower?" He asked, his tone a lot more deep and raspy, you could tell he sobered up quick upon the realization you weren't joking. "I-I forgot the pill after hooked up a few months ago! a-and I left because I knew you couldn't be a responsible dad" You blurted, unable to contain your emotions as the hormones in your body were on overdrive.

Thanos was frozen, staring at you in shock before finally snapping out of it as the doll called green light, he grabbed your arm holding you behind him as he followed the others past the red line "Just stay behind me" He whispered, your words stung, how could you be so sure of how he'd be as a dad if you never gave him a chance? As you made your way back to the giant main room, you took notice to Thanos's hand on your back leading you to the bed "Sit, you don't put yourself through too much" He explained softly, helping you over to your bunks before eyeing Nam-Gyu "Give her your bed, man" he demanded, his friend stuttering before giving up and giving you his bed that was floor level, him taking your third bunk bed. "Thanos" You warned, not wanting him to make it a huge deal "What?! You're huge! You don't need to be climbing!" He shouted before catching his tone, apologizing quietly "Okay, well One, that was very very rude, two, I can do whatever I please, if I feel like I can't do something, I'll tell you" You stated poking him in the chest with your finger, he just smirked at you, biting his bottom lip slightly "Have I ever told you, it's hot whenever you yell at me" he asked, trying his best to charm you, but instead you just flicked his forehead in annoyance "Get away, freak" You replied, he just smiled at you, sitting at the foot of your bunk "So it's my baby?" He asked smiling pointing to your stomach "Well, if not I'd be concerned" You said raising your eyebrows at him "Can I..touch it?.." He asked nervously "it's not an it, it's your daughter" you glared, before grabbing his hand slipping it under your jacket, pressing his finger down in just the right spot to get the small baby inside of you to move around "Woah..weird" He said grimacing as he pulled away in disgust "Really!?" You gasped in shock laughing loudly, somehow forgetting you were in a death game for a moment "Yea! You have a whole human inside of you! That's weird!" He laughed, resting his hand on yours "You put it there, Su-bong!" You argued, you swore sometimes you got with a completely dumbass.

"Y/n..If you'll let me...I wanna be there..I don't want to be like my dad" He frowned, squeezing your hand gently "Please?" He begged "I know I fucked up bad, but, I want to try again, please" He continued, you glared at him for a moment before sighing "How can I trust you? And you'll have to get clean, for real clean, not how you're usually clean" You added on, you just watched as he nodded his head, no faces or complaints "You're actually serious aren't you?..." you asked sweetly "I want to be a good person for you, y/n, please" He whispered, pressing his lips to your knuckles "I guess..but you only get one chance" You offered, he just nodded before flopping himself next to you "Thank you!" He cheered pressing multiple kisses all over your face as he chanted his thank you's, not realizing the next 18-19 years were going to be hell for the both of you.

The rest of the games, Thanos was always on you, making sure you didn't over do yourself or risk hurting yourself or your baby, charming you right back into his arms.

--

Taglist!!

@acehasmyheart

@corrdelia

@ag022123

[farfromstrange]

Fictober Day 28 & 29: Face-Fucking & Roleplaying/Religion Kink

Fictober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Prompt: Face-Fucking & Roleplaying/Religion Kink (✨)

Summary: Sometimes, you and Matt roleplay one of his 'darker' fantasies. Or to fuel his Catholic guilt, at least.

Warnings: Smut (18+), religion kink, roleplay (priest!Matt), blasphemy, fetishizing Matt's cross necklace, mentions of hair pulling, oral m!receiving, face-fucking, PWP

Word Count: 1.1k

A/n: If using catholicism in a very not-Christian context is not your cup of tea, don't read this! I once again decided to put two prompts together because my original idea for the roleplaying prompt included face-fucking, too, and I didn't want to write two similar pieces. It was a creative decision.

Read Me On AO3! (coming soon, once all prompts are posted)

The sun has long set over New York City.

A disarray of neon lights from the billboard outside casts a dark red glow over the bedroom, dancing like fireflies over your skin. The tingle travels from your head to your weeping core, though you physically can’t clench your thighs for the kind of friction you have been craving all night. 

You kneel before his dark person, wrists bound with delicate knots before your bare chest, ankles crossed behind you. Seven words, you utter. 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.”

Not daring to lift your head, you can only imagine the stripe of white in his collar that makes him look so innocent; a priest taking your confession like a true servant of God. Like your penance won’t be his cock between your swollen lips while your pussy aches for his touch rather than a few Hail Marys. 

Confession with Father Murdock is the sweetest kind of torture known to you, and the only one you will tolerate. 

“It’s been…a while since my last confession,” you say. 

Without a word, Matthew tilts your chin up to meet his unfocused stare, wanting to taste every single word coming from your lips like honey. 

You lean into his touch. “I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”

“Bad how?” he asks. 

“I’ve been fantasizing about a man of God.”

“Fantasizing?”

“Dreaming of him,” you confess, “but the dreams I’ve been having are so unbelievably naughty.”

He bites back a smirk. “And who’s this man of God?”

Without hesitation, you answer, “You, Father.”

The light flickers. He traces the outline of your lips with the pad of his thumb, coaxing you to open. You’re drooling already. His skin tastes of salt and the beer he spilled earlier, but to you, he tastes like the most exquisite meal—salvation. 

You suck the digit into your wet, hot mouth, circling your tongue around it. Matt exhales a gasp of surprise, though he quickly recovers as he pushes down on your tongue, gently but with a determination that leaves your cunt aching. With the other hand, he undoes his trousers.

Your heart skips a beat at the sight of his hard cock standing tall against his clothed stomach. You want to reach out and touch the veins running along the underside of his shaft. You want him to fuck you until you can’t stand straight anymore. You want his cock to be branded into the tight walls of your pussy so you’ll forget every other man who has ever dared to touch you. You want to be so full of his cum that he’ll leave your thighs sticky for days to come.

“There’s only one thing you can do,” Matthew murmurs, gliding the leaking tip of his cock over your lips, a small taste for you to savor. 

You moan, involuntarily so, but one harsh thrust of his hips causes the air to bleed out of your lungs.

“Atone,” and he buries his cock deep in your throat. The feeling is as familiar as it is alien. 

Through hooded and teary eyes, you see the soul leave his wound-up body. A demon leaving the body of a priest. The sight of that stupid thin piece of white fabric constricting his otherwise black collar as he bares his long, pale neck to you, all the while still wearing that god-awful golden crucifix of sin has you clenching around nothing but thin air, and you wrap your lips around his cock in a vice-grip. 

Matt groans. “Forgive me,” you hear, his voice breathy as it breaks through the thick air.

You don’t tell him to stop. He fucks into your mouth with the force of a proper madman, but it only makes you moan louder around him.

You’re the one atoning for your sins, but he is the one praying not to the one God he believes in but to you. He asks for your forgiveness for doing something he deems so absolutely and selfishly wrong; fucking your mouth without giving you an ounce of appreciation back. Using you. 

His teeth grit with every harsh thrust as you gag and gush around him, but God, he can’t stop. So, he prays. He prays because that’s the only thing he knows how to do.

He doesn’t need to beg for forgiveness when you’re the sinner on your knees, but you can’t help that it makes your pussy flutter, still. You, his goddess, and the altar he prays at. You, the woman who let him dress up as a priest and use her to live out his most perverted religious fantasies whenever he pleases. Because in the end, Father Murdock is your favorite role of his, and you’d gladly confess to treason if it means he will take you apart like this over and over again until the day your body can’t take it anymore.

Matt Murdock’s utmost devotion is yours and yours alone, always has been and always will be.

Spit trickles down your chin. The only sounds coming from you are grunts and gurgles, but he’s loud enough for the both of you. You’re afraid if you hear any more of his sweet moans he might have to scrape you off the floor, liquified. 

Suddenly though, the salty weight of his cock disappears, leaving your mouth wet and empty. 

“Wh–” you stutter.

“You’re gonna be sore,” he chokes out.

You look sternly up at him. “But this is my penance, F–” You stop yourself before you can utter the honorific again. “I can take it. I have to.”

He utters your name, and for a moment, his mask slips.

“Forgive me, Father,” you repeat, “but I have been a bad, bad girl. By God’s rules, I have to atone for my sins.”

Matthew lets out a guttural growl and his expression changes. “God, yes,” he says, no longer hesitating to thrust back in. Seconds stretch into hours, it seems. “I absolve you of your sins in the name of the Father,” thrust, “the Son,” thrust, “and the holy spirit.”

Your throat has well grown numb by now, his prayer resonating in your ringing ears, and with the eagerness of a new woman, you swallow every last drop of his cum as he finally bursts on your tongue with a strangled, “Amen,” to the ceiling above—to God.

For once you are glad that he can’t see you or he would surely shudder at the mess he made of you. “Thank you, Father,” you croak. 

The curtain falls. The play comes to a sudden yet inevitable end. You raise your head in his lap. He looks so blissed out, so…guilty? Maybe only a little.

“I’m okay,” he answers before you can ask.

A silly smile grows on your cum-stained lips. “I am, too.”

In one swift motion, he has untied your wrists, and he pulls you with him onto the edge of the bed, his arms offering a safe haven from the cold hardwood floors, and you once again come to appreciate the force of a man you had the honor of marrying. 

For even when he is reduced to a mindless, overstimulated puddle, he takes the last ounce of his strength to carry you, always.

@ebathory997 @the-b33skn33s @scoliobean @drmeghanjones @lanae111 @steve-chandler @lucienofthelakes @xnatyx @gpenguin666 @linamarr @mcugeekposts @itwasthereaminuteago @norestfortheshelbywicked @yarrystyleeza @littlenerdyravenclaw @etanordoesbullsh1t @thychuvaluswife @harleycao @schneeflocky @imjustcal @pipsqueakkitten @merlinbtch @sya-skies @amberritonicole @ravenclaw617 @pigeonmama @bohemianrhapsody86 @a-gir1-has-n0-name @callsign-ember @chittaphonstar @buckyyyismahhlife @trublu2u @zomtart @ethereal-blaze

[luxthestrange]

WHB Incorrect quotes#70 Greatest's Dad in all the realms-

What I truly want to happen...It's a Batlle Royale Between Solomon...Vs Mr.Kim...On the one hand, we got our...Ances-terror who is really into the idea of Mc/You having a Father-Daughter relationship...and then there is Mr.Kim who took care of Mc/You since day one of the orphanage...and totally doesn't already consider Mc his daughter, cuz he ships it M&M(McXMinhyeok)...Wow, Mc you got two dads-

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

Mc*Is in need of help...from dealing with demons,Angels and needs guidence*...

Solomon:

Haha

Looks like you could use some help From the big king of kings himself Check out daddy's glowing reviews on Yelp~ (Five stars! Flawless! Greater than great!) Oh, with the punch of a pentagram I wap-bam-boom, alakazam Usually, I charge a sacrificial lamb But you get the family rate (thanks dad!)

Mc*Smiles awkwardly and nods*Thanks Solomon!...

Solomon:

Who needs a busboy, now that you've got the chef? (wow) Michelin-tasting menu, free à la carte I'll rig the game for you because I'm the ref Champagne fountains, caviar mountains, that's just a start!-

Mr.Kim*Pushes Solomon away and twirls You around in a silly dance*

Who's been here since day one? Who's been faithful as a nun? Who makes you chuckle with an old-timey pun? Your responible guardian?

Mc*Smiles wider and nods*That's true!

Mr.Kim:

I'm your guy, your day-to-day Your chum, your steadfast Guardian Remember when I fixed that clog today?

Ppyong*Sniffles and hugs Mr.Kim*I was stuck, thank you sir!

Mc*Looks at him with chuckle*Oh you!

Mr.Kim:

I'm truly honored that we've built such a bond~

Mc: aww

Mr.Kim:

You're like the daughter that I wish that I had~

Solomon*Looking at the two, sweat dropping*...uh, what?

Mr.Kim*Brings you in for a hug and pats your head fatherly like,smirking at Solomon*

I care for you, just like a daughter I spawned~

Solo:hold on now!

Mr.Kim

It's a little funny, you could almost call me dad!~

The two face one another with different facts they know about you: your first tooth lost,your favorite food, baby pictures. The Demon Kings just stare back and forth to the madness as you stand between the two men.

Mr.Kim

They say, when you're looking for assistance It's smart to pick the path of least resistance

Solomon: Others say, that in your needy hour There's no substitute for pure summoner power! Who just happens to also be your blood!

Mr.Kim Sadly, there are times a birth family member is a dud They say the family you choose is better~

Solo: what a bunch of losers...

Mr.Kim: Can you butt out of my song?

Solo: Your song? I started this!

Mr.Kim: I'm singing it, I'll finish it!

Solo*Veins popping and grabs the man by his collar* Oh, you tacky piece of–

Before the two men can get into a fistfight, the door opens, and...a strange man with a bird mask, top hat, and a cane appears

Crowley:

It's me, yes, it's me I know you were all waiting for me I'm here, what a gas Took a while, but I'm present at last It's me, it's me CROWLEEEEEEEEEEY!

Mr:Kim:....Who?

Crowley*Looks around,back away out the door*...Whoopsie wrong fandom and wrong mc~...pardon me~

[lovelizards]

Two men, taller than her by half, put her on her knees and held her there. Arms shaking, try as she might, she couldn't escape from their grip.

Lord Daniel stood in front of her, looking generally displeased to even be in such a shabby little shack as he adjusted his gloves; Mabel wasn't sure where in the town this was, but she assumed it was near the walls, far away from anyone who might stumble upon them.

"What kind of fools are you that it takes two able-bodied men to restrain a wisp like this? I've been waiting an hour," the man complained, brushing a lock of blond hair from his eyes.

But there was no response from the men holding her. She tried to jerk her hands free, but only managed to wrench her shoulder.

The men had snatched her quickly and quietly, pulling her bodily off of a side path and quieting her with a heavy hand over her mouth while they wrestled her away.

"You prick!" Mabel shouted, "Not even a Count's son can do this! I'll report you, for this, for everything -! "

Lord Daniel scowled at her. He took a few steps nearer, hesitated, and flicked his eyes to the men holding her. She wasn't sure what the look meant until she was struck with an open hand on the back of her head.

Her cry was more in surprise than in pain; her father also had a heavy hand, it's not like she wasn't used to being hit. But a cold sort of dread was crackling in her stomach.

"Do you always get your men to do your dirty work?" she asked, shoulders shaking from the strain of her forced kneel, "What's wrong? Don't want your lily-soft hands to callous?"

The man's jaw set in anger, and he looked away from her with something akin to furious disbelief as he slowly, carefully, removed his doeskin gloves.

Mabel's breathing quickened, she tried to let her neck and jaw relax, and watched him to anticipate it. He reeled back and slapped her hard in the face, catching the corner of her eye with his nails and making her tear up.

"You disrespectful little bitch," Lord Daniel sighed, looking at his reddening hand with an air of disinterest, "don't you know how meaningless your life is to me? Less than a dog, less than insect. For what you've said to me I could easily get you imprisoned, or worse..."

Mabel blinked the tears out of her eyes, her teeth clenched and brows furrowed - there was a fire licking at the inside of her chest, burning unbearably hot.

"Then you must be pretty bored," she shot back, "if you're putting this much effort into dealing with an insect."

"Oh, I agree," Lord Daniel said, grabbing her cheeks and tilting her head back to see her glaring green eyes through her fringe, "are you flattered?"

Mabel caught her breath, then jerked her head out of his grasp and sank her teeth into the side of his hand.

Lord Daniel squealed in pain, beating her head with a fist and shrieking for his men to get Mabel off him. She didn't let go until she started getting light-headed and dizzy from being hit, and spat blood - a mix of hers and his - onto the ground.

"Try sickened, you pig!" She finally answered, giving him a grin full of bloody teeth.

"Augh - ! Y - you little wretch! I will kill you - I will -!"

He danced around in pain for a long few moments, holding his injured hand like he'd never been hurt once in his life before. It was a rather pathetic sight, no wonder none of the common folk took him seriously.

His threats were serious enough though.

Once he was done with his tantrum, he spun back around to face her.

"Teach her a lesson," he growled, tears in his eyes, "I need her alive, but other than that...do as you like."

"You coward! Beat me yourself!" she screamed. How could she bring complaints against two anonymous men? It had to be him!

How she longed to tear that long tail of blond hair right out of his head! Next time she got a chance to bite him, she'd make sure to take something away with her!

"My Lord..." one of the men said, his tone hesitant.

Lord Daniel threw his hair back, a blind fury in his eyes.

"Oh, what now? Is stealing her away and striking her once the lengths of your loyalty?"

"It's just...she's a girl, and -"

"You - ! For gods sake, fine!"

Daniel stalked towards her, and in the space of a breath had ripped her bodice open. Almost involuntarily, the scream she let out was feral and piercing. But Daniel called for her to be silenced, and she was, as he stripped her outer layers away - a leering, manic grin pulling at his lips - until she was left trembling in nothing but her chemise.

"There!" Lord Daniel said, out of breath and admiring his own work, "You see? With short hair and that figure - might as well be a boy. Are you happy? Now do your duty!"

There was only another moment of hesitation, and then Mabel was thrown to the floor. A booted foot caught her in the ribs, another stomped on her ankle. One of the strong hands grabbed a fist-full of her hair and yanked her up, only to hit her again in the face - causing hot blood to pour from her nose and her lip to split.

She couldn't form a single thought. She couldn't even manage to form words. There was only pain, that rained down on her from all angles, as she was man-handled and beaten in that dingy, dark shed near the edge of town.

After a time, though Mabel didn't know how long, everything went still and quiet. Though her body screamed in pain with every breath she took, with every beat of her heart, the men stopped attacking her.

She lay battered on the floor, one eye mostly swollen shut, her dress ruined with dirt, and listened - barely conscious - to the shuffling of feet, and far away muttering voices. It was only two. Lord Daniel must have left at some point. Too much of a coward to see the deed done...

"Nnngh..." she tried to shift her body, but her right arm burst with a pain so intense it rendered her vision white for a few seconds.

Somewhere, a door opened, flooding the shack with late afternoon light, and then closed and left her in the dark again.

Tears fell unbidden from her eyes, and there was no stopping them, but it wasn't like she could stay laying there on the floor until she died.

She tested the other arm, and though it moved haltingly, it worked.

With a careful prodding, much like she did when examining her birds for injuries, she felt her injured arm for anything that might have badly broken. But the bones seemed to be intact despite the pain.

"Don't be a baby..." she tried to mumble, though her cheeks made the words a garbled mess at best, "don't be...a baby...get up..."

Groaning, flinching every second at another new wave of pain, her entire body trembling, Mabel slowly pulled herself up onto her knees, and then onto her feet.

They'd left her outer clothes and head kerchief in the dirt nearby. She had to get dressed. She couldn't be seen in public dressed like a prostitute - if anyone recognized her, she would shame Lady Iris.

And though re-dressing herself was excruciating, that thought far outweighed the pain.

The walk home was slow. She had no money for a carriage, and doubted greatly if anyone in their right mind would take her as a customer looking like the worst of disheveled beggars on the street.

The ankle that had been stomped on twinged with every step, she could feel the glancing eyes of passers-by, but that didn't matter to her. She walked slowly, painfully, step-by-step, until finally as the sun was setting she came to the servant's entrance of the Baron's manor.

A couple of young laundry girls who were taking down dry bed linens saw her approaching, screamed, and ran inside. Thankfully, they sent out the head maid, a stern but fair old woman called Anne.

"M - Mabel! Oh - oh Mabel, by the gods what happened to you?!"

"You can't let...Lady Iris know..." she mumbled, though she wasn't sure if Anne understood her, "she'll worry...she'll..."

"M...Mabel...?"

She turned around, and saw Lady Iris, in her outdoor clothes and walking with a couple of her maids. She must have been out for a walk.

Well, Mabel had never been lucky.

"Oh, L - " she cleared her throat, "My Lady!"

She put on a big grin, though she knew there was no fooling her friend, and shrugged her shoulders, "I got into a scrap with some other girls in town! Would you - believe it?"

Of course she wouldn't. But she had to at least make a show of being okay. At least then, maybe Iris wouldn't worry as much. She wouldn't feel as guilty.

"Mabel...oh, Mabel -" Iris rushed to her, reaching her arms out, and Mabel thought for just a moment that her friend, and her deepest love since childhood, might kiss her right there.

And then she thought: "oh, someone is tilting the ground under my feet," as her body pitched forward, and she lost consciousness.

[cactusisconfused]

Hi, I wrote a fic :)

Summary: Ghost spirals and gets stuck in his head, Soap helps him out.

-Eternal Ages of Then Now and Again -

-

He said that he would join his life four hours ago. To lay down and give his body rest. Worried was his life for him. “You’ve worked yourself too hard again.” The Scottish voice had said. “When was the last time you took a break?” The voice had asked.

“Ages.” Death would respond.

Ages ago before he was young and before he was old.

Ages ago before he understood the concept of mourning and rage. 

Ages ago when death thought he could bring life.

It was ages ago when he learned otherwise.

Ages ago his father had beaten him.

Ages ago his family dies.

Ages ago Roba finds him.

He’s trapped in that cell for ages.

Touched for ages.

Locked in a box for ages.

Walked the same desert for ages.

Felt like he was falling for ages.

Then it starts again. Always. Forever. Repeating for ages.

His father berates him, beats him, kills all innocence.

His family dies, their bodies drenching the bright pine tree in a least festive red.

Simon runs away.

Ghost takes his place.

Roba finds him.

Roba uses him.

Roba buries him.

Simon stays in the coffin.

Ghost climbs out.

His legs give out once he reaches the Texan border.

Again his mind plagues him. 

Ages has it been since his mind rested. Because for now and every blink, every idle thought does the ages of death fill his restless dreams. Ages do they fill his tired bones and squeeze and push into the corners of his muscles and make a home in his pupils, finding the next life to meet death.

It doesn’t stop. It never stops. It’s been happening for ages. It’s been happening again. And again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and

again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and again and

again and again and 

again and again and

again and again and

again and again and-

“Simon?” A voice from the bed a few feet, a few miles, a few inches away, speaks from the bed. The voice is Scottish, one deepened and raspy from sleep. A voice that throws a punch to his shoulder, a confident grin under a flirty tone. One that death will find and will swallow his life up whole. There’s a quiet, knowing sigh.

Ghost doesn’t respond to Johnny calling his name, admittedly he’s not even sure if Johnny’s voice was even real. It’s just another voice again. Again one to follow him, again one to torment him again and again and again and again and again and again an-

Careful arms wrap around his shoulders from behind him, rough stubble meeting his neck. “It’s a nice night out, no clouds, nice and cool.” Life says with a small smile, his warm hand guiding Ghost’s face gently to look out of the window. The moon is bright, watching diligently and elegantly over this sleeping part of the world.

“I used to sneak out with my sister when I was younger to see the sunset, soon then afterwards, would we gaze at the stars. She was 17, just got her first car. I was 13, she’d offered me to tag along, get out of the house.” Says the warm body around him, eyes glancing at the stars.

“We’d stop by a small bakery that a friend of hers worked at, grab a bite or two, then head out in her car. Beaten up was the poor machine, but it was hers and she treated it as though it were made of the finest gold and porcelain.” Ghost isn’t sure when time stopped moving in circles, when he stopped seeing the images of the lives he’s taken that took to hanging and dancing around in his sickened mind. Quietly MacTavish spoke, the words a vine of brilliant strength for death's parasitic arms and failing arms to cling to.

“We found a good hill away from Glasgow, near the ocean. Sometimes we’d talk about our troubles, our fears and doubts.” Life’s voice trailed off, the sound mixing and stilling with the darkness surrounding them, turning it into an embrace; no longer was it the tight void it once was. 

Johnny’s eyes move to look at ghost from the side of his eyes. Bright and lively powder blue meets dark whiskey brown.

“She would say that under the stars, whispers of the daring, of the lost and of the damned would guide amongst its cooler winds, drifting into a whistling tune that no human could make out but in some way, always understand. Sorrows and joy to merge together for no one creature but all to know.” A warm, tired smile forms on the Scot’s face before his head moves to lean on Simon’s own.

Simon isn’t sure how long they stayed like that, Simon in Johnny’s arms as they gaze out the window, the sound of quiet wind outside blowing against the glass window. How long Johnny talked about this or that.

Ages has it been since Simon found himself relaxed. 

Now, he finds his eyelids falling on themselves as his buzzing nerves fade. Simon knows that death does not belong in life’s arms, but for this moment, as never once before, he’ll allow himself a moment of respite.

“Couldn’t stop thinking?” The scot asks after a silence fell between themselves and the world for a long moment. Simon could only nod. This wasn’t the first time he had ever spiraled, nor would it be the last. But instead of the whirlpool they became on his own, ones with mountain tall waves and drawing currents, they became loose streams lapping at his feet, the sea foam bubbling then receding back to the powder blue. Johnny nods back in understanding.

They find their way to bed together, Simon on his back and Johnny laying at his side, his tanned hand resting over his heart. Ghost’s mask is discarded somewhere on the floor.

“I…” Simon starts his voice giving out, unsure of how to start. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to bed sooner. Didn’t mean to leave you in the dust.” His chest rumbles with the grit of his voice, his eyes staring only at the ceiling. “Jus’...started thinking, then started hearing and seeing and…I thought I’d gotten better at stopping it. Still sneaks up on me..” Johnny kisses Simon’s pale cheek softly. “You have nothing to apologize for, Si. You know I’ve fallen into my own head time and time again, and always, you were there to fish me out. It’s only fair that I do the same, what with trying to be a good boyfriend and all.” A pause. “We’re both a bit fucked but that is what makes us fun, no?” There’s a smile in Johnny’s voice that Simon can’t resist, his own scarred mouth stretching slightly in a small content thing as his eyes glance down to look at his lover’s face.

 “Plus I'm MacTavish,” The Scot says, shifting to lay more against the brit. “We take care of the things we love like the finest gold and porcelain.”  Something about the way Johnny’s eyes look up at Simon is filled with such an adoration that Simon almost has to look away. Yet, his eyes linger on the man next to him. 

Never once had death thought he deserved to be looked at this way, to be looked after this way. To be loved and cherished for now and ages to come.

But then again, what is death without life and life without death. Intertwined should they be, for all the ages that pass eternally by.

-

If you would like to leave kudos at all or just want it, here’s the Ao3 link:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62062321

[m00n-shiner]

So…in my last post I wanted people to explain to me if Aegon had a claim to the iron throne just like Rhaenyra. And some people agreed he did and some people didn’t so I would like to state my full opinion on why I think they both have claims.

Rhaenyra got her claim through Viserys. Nobody wanted Daemon on the throne and he didn’t have any sons so Rhaenyra was the last resort. She was heir, she had a claim. In the show, Rhaenys explained to her that the lords will be waiting for her father to remarry, his second wife to bear a son, and to name that son heir to the iron throne. Rhaenyra will have to fight for her claim, even Otto explained it when he went to Dragonstone and he gave Rhaenyra something from Alicent.

Aegon has a claim through tradition. People were harping on my ass that law and tradition are not the same so for this post I will correct myself and use tradition. These traditions have been there before Targaryen’s which are the Andals succession where they prefer males before females, Targaryen’s followed this law briefly. Aegon may not be heir through Viserys words but he had a claim because of tradition. As long as Aegon, his son Jaehaerys, Aemond, hell even Daeron are alive they will always challenge Rhaenyra’s claim. Cristion Cole even said a this in the books. If Rhaenyra wants her and her children to ascend it will be best for her to get rid of them.

Here are the succession laws that I have researched ↓

Targaryen Succession

An uncle before a daughter.

This is a form of agnatic primogeniture, which greatly favors males over females inheriting. Female lines are disinherited, so males typically always inherit before females, even collaterally related males (i.e. uncles/brothers over daughters). It's not entirely clear how male-driven the Targaryen succession was, since they never had to look very far for a suitable male heir. It's likely a female could inherit if they were the last descendant of the patrilineal lines (male derived lines). For example, a more distant male relation from a female line (e.g. king's sister's son) wouldn't inherit over a daughter of a king, but a male relation from a male line (e.g. king's brother's son) would. (credit to /u/feldman10 ) The Targaryens at first followed Andal succession, but started following this form of succession following the "Dance of the Dragons"when Rhaenyra and Aegon II (half-siblings) fought over their father's crown.

Andal Succession

A daughter before an uncle.

It is the same as male-preference cognatic primogeniture. Pretty much all Houses with the exception of the Dornish and Targaryens follow Andal succession laws. In this form the eldest legitimate son inherits followed by that son's descendants. A daughter can inherit if she has no living legitimate brothers, and those brothers have no heirs. A younger sibling inherits only if his elder sibling died without any descendants.

I don’t watch HOTD or GOT that much because it throws me off, I’ve always liked the books much more and I will not be reading to book again but the laws have always had confused me but now even more that people in the fandom like to change things to fit their narrative and the fandom literally lost the plot. I don’t know who messed up the line of succession more, Viserys or TB fans saying, “Kings words is law.”

So, my dears, don’t be shy and comment and I’ll try not to comment back because I just don’t feel like arguing about this shit. I like to stir up debates from a distance and I’ll be waiting and observing 😏. Toodles!

[isabelawritesthings]

The last dance

Pairing: Katarina x F!reader

Synopsis: You are one of the guests at the Black Rose Ball, and your dance partner catches your eye.

Word count: 823

Warnings: Mentions of war and death, mentions of relationship breakups.

An: I know it's just a cinematic, but my heart can't stand seeing beautiful women in fiction and not writing about them 😭 I tried to make it longer but my creative block isn't helping. (In case you're confused and only know Arcane, Garen is her romantic interest in the lore of League of Legends and Jericho Swain is the one who rules Noxus, Demacia and Ionia are regions that are at war with Noxus.)

What happened in Piltover was surprising for all of Runeterra. A simple inventor becoming a kind of God? Even more so in the city of progress? Simply surprising.

Your parents were longtime members of the Black Rose, and with Mel Medarda's return, the organization needed a distraction. And just like in the times when Noxus was a monarchy ruled by an emperor, why not have a ball?

"You look beautiful.” Your mother said to you. “Do we really have to go to this ball? Are we really going to pretend that Ambessa's daughter isn't coming back to finish us all off?" Your mother looked surprised. "You better not say things like that at the ball.” Your father enters the room. "We're going to be late like this, ladies."

It was a masquerade ball, as the Black Rose always liked anonymity, but you didn't care, you wouldn't be wearing a mask that night, you thought the masks were too ugly to wear.

“Honey, do you mind if me and your father go say hi to some friends?" Your mother asked. "No, I think I'll just dance a little." You walk out onto the dance floor, and dance with the first person you see, not caring who it is under that mask. “You dance very well," said the masked person, it was a female voice. "Thank you... Are you part of the Black Rose, or are you just one of those nobles they invited?" The person behind the mask laughed. "You tell me, you're not wearing a mask after all.”

“Those are pretty ugly." You and your dance partner change positions. "I prefer you like this without the mask, you're very pretty.” You gave a small laugh. "You must be the one who's beautiful, redheads usually are." The woman looked you in the eyes. "Maybe we could talk in a more private place." You smiled. "I'd love to." The two of you walked to the garden.

In the garden, the mysterious woman takes off her mask, you weren't wrong, she was indeed beautiful. "Nice to meet you, Katarina." you smiled. "Y/N." Katarina sits on the garden bench. "Your parents are members of the Black Rose, aren't they?” You sit down next to her. "Yes, long before I was born." She gives a shy laugh. "They're all liars and murderers... You don't look like one of them.”

“And I'm not, it's just my parents who have these crazy ideologies of theirs, if I could, I'd be in Demacia or Ionia right now, but I would rule out going to Ionia, there's a very anti-Noxian sentiment there thanks to the war.” Katarina looks at the floor. "Demacia... That name brings back memories." You looked curious. "Are you from there?" Katarina looks at you. "No, I was born right here... It's just that it was there that I lived the best moment of my life, because I found love." You looked even more curious.

“Garen, his name is Garen, he was in the Demacian army, it could never work since we are also at war with Demacia, he would probably be executed for treason if anyone found out.” She looked sad. "Jericho Swain is still going to destroy this country with those stupid wars!" She looked at you again. "I still love him, but it could never work." You changed the subject. "So, what are you doing here? You don't look like a member of the Black Rose." Her eyes looked at you intently. "Let's just say I came to finish something." You thought it was strange that she was staring at you like that.

“You're taking too much of a risk by meeting me in a secluded location, if I were a spy you'd be dead by now." You looked even more surprised. "I... I... It's just that I found you quite peculiar…” She stopped staring at you. "Peculiar? I've heard better compliments... You look like you're also trying to forget a love." She figured it out pretty quickly. "I fell in love with a girl recently, she was in the army, she ended up dying in Ionia." Katarina's face remained still. "I'm sorry." You looked at her. "Don't be sorry, this fate was already predictable.”

You lost track of how much time you spent talking to Katarina on that bench, the more you found out about her, the more impressed you were, like how she had been trained by generals from all over the country.

“I think you need to go now, your parents must be worried." She stood up. "Thanks for the evening, I needed a little chat before I do what I came to do." You stood up too. "You keep mentioning this duty you have to do tonight but you never say what it is." She looks at you. "Let's just say it involves shocking some people at this ball."

She kisses you on the cheek before she leaves, you blush slightly.

[gayvecchio]

I was inspired by this great post by @pigtailedgirl to share moments that cemented my love for the Fraser/Vecchio pairing.

I really do enjoy watching basically every interaction these two have, no matter how small, so choosing key moments is difficult. But here are a few moments that are never far from my mind and make me want to climb the walls whenever i think about them.

In no particular order...

The diner scene in the pilot where they both talk about their respective fathers. Also, how did Ray know Fraser was there? Was the diner near the consulate? Did Ray just wander around looking for him???

OMGGGG!!! Ray's smile after Fraser tells him he doesn't want him to go. He's so happy that Fraser wants him stay, especially since Fraser has been so depressed (understandably so) and distant in the hospital. The cracks are mending. Their relationship is healing. (So many MOMENTS in this ep -- Ray taking a bullet for Fraser anyone??? Even Stevens?)

This scene. THIS SCENE in Pizza and Promises. Fraser's quiet desperation throughout when the car is sinking and Ray is in the trunk. I think it's the first time we see Fraser really ruffled, scared for someone else, for Ray. He is usually so composed no matter the danger of the situation, but I think that's when he feels in control of it to some degree, which he doesn't here. This time Ray is in danger and it wasn't a part of Fraser's plan. For the first time Fraser is confronted with the idea of losing Ray and realizing that Ray is someone he is terrified to lose.

The way he grips his arm arm here, the intense expression asking if Ray's okay. And then Ray's dazed, smitten little smile when he says "yes." He's used to Fraser being the hero, but this time he is Ray's hero. Maybe he sees a bit of what I do in Fraser's expression, sees just how important he really is to Fraser.

This was the moment that made me whisper "oh, no!" to myself because I knew I'd never be the same. I knew I was becoming lost to the Fraser/Vecchio void and there was no way back.

This one is not strictly a F/V scene, but yes it is. Because I still not and will never be convinced that this whole conversation in Heaven & Earth isn't about Ray being in love with Fraser. And the fact that Fraser is there eavesdropping!!! (never getting that merit badge back now, Benny).

I've ranted about this before and I'm sure I will again, but Ray's behavior in this whole episode just make no sense to me unless he is jealous. The whole speech about Ray being afraid to dream and reach out for what he wants and FRASER'S RIGHT THERE, so close but impossible to touch.

Fraser running after Ray in the style of many classic romantic heroes before him. COME ON!

North is like god-tier F/V goodness from start to finish, but this moment with Ray carrying Fraser over his shoulder while SINGING AND DANCING is an absolute highlight. Insane behavior, 10/10. Perhaps, Ray is just thrilled to be so close to Fraser's butt despite the circumstances.

Fraser and Ray doing their grocery shopping together is so special to me.

I'll end this with the scene from bdth. I have nothing to say. I'm sobbing too hard. Anyway, I think it speaks for itself. Even my mother could see that they were in love.

I have to cut myself off here otherwise this post will be a mile long. Even now I am thinking of so many other moments that I adore. I guess that's how I know how much I love them, every moment seems special. I didn't pick any of the smaller, sillier moments, like Fraser being offended by Ray running stop signs or running over saplings, or 'She shot you in the hat?' but I love those infinitely as well. That's the thing about Fraser and Vecchio, they work on every level, from the absurd to the devastating. Paul Gross and David Marciano's acting and chemistry carry every interaction and facet of the Fraser/Vecchio relationship so well that I can't help but enjoy every moment they're on screen together.

[yumepeachy]

you know when a kid steps in a adult feet to waltz with them? ellga does that with chip, like a dad and his daughter

bart has a song to each routine task in gum gum's day (like his wake-a-by song), it helps both of them remember their routine and it's just more fun in general!

i am trying to give a brazilian song to each one of the characters, so here is the ones that i already figured out:

• Bart - Descobridor dos Sete Mares, Tim Maia (i have the idea that Bart would be a professional in Jogo do Bicho)

• Mudd - Reza, Rita Lee and Pais e Filhos, Legião Urbana (he would be such a Rita Lee and Ney Matogrosso fan)

• Chip - Mina do Condomínio, Seu Jorge; Pelados em Santos, Mamonas Assassinas; Ela Partiu, Tim Maia; Exagerado, Cazuza (i give him the honorary brazilian uncle title because he is like every brazilian cool uncle everyone has who used a flamengo shirt and has a beer belly)

• Carol (giving her two because i love her so much) - Flor de Tangerina, Alceu Valença and Menina Veneno, Richie (I have a full playlist just with musics about this two)

• Barney - Pela Luz dos Olhos Teus, Miúcha e Tom Jobim and Meu Limão, Meu Limoeiro, Wilson Simonal (THIS OLD MAN WAS THERE WHEN THIS LEGENDS ARE BORN, HE IS ALSO A BIG ELIS REGINA FAN)

• I am still thinking about giving Lágrimas e Chuva, Kid Abelha to Mathilde or to Ellga, the others i still have no idea... I also have a lot of ideias if all of them in a human modern au in brasil, i going to put all of it in the paper later.

anyone have any tftsd headcanons they wanna share (desperate)

[britneyshakespeare]

can you imagine being a little twee simon and garfunkel fan in the late 60s and then buying your new vinyl at the record store and hearing mrs. robinson for the first time in your own home. i would’ve fallen over backwards

[tommygotwrittenoff]

i wanna kill the diaz parents with hammers

[inkykeiji]

tw: drug addiction

i just gotta say, the sound of the phone ringing and the sirens, both so masterfully folded into the beat at the beginning of agnes, is fucking bone chilling. it gives me waves of chills every single time and i don’t think that feeling, the feeling of full-body bouts of chills that course through me from the crown of my head to the tips of my toes until dave’s voice kicks in, will ever go away.

this song captures the trajectory of addiction SO well. i literally cannot even put it into words. but it’s so comforting????? it’s so comforting to hear someone else who has presumably lost a loved one (a close friend, in this situation) to the demon of addiction, outline the full course of its development.

i feel like,,, if you don’t have someone close to you who has struggled with and fought with addiction, it is so difficult for you to truly and fully understand how devastatingly heartbreaking—and excruciatingly painful—it is to watch the ravenous monster that is addiction fucking devour this person from the inside out. slowly. it corrodes their smile, it decays their mind, it dulls every single aspect of life except for when they’re high. they become nothing more than a shell of their former selves; a host for this parasitic sickness, who’s only care in life is that next fix, irregardless of what they have to do or who they have to hurt to get it.

and once that monster has been birthed inside of you, it never fully goes away. you fight it for the rest of your fucking life, irregardless of how much treatment you’ve gone through, irregardless of if you’re in treatment for the rest of your days on this earth. you battle those psychological cravings until you die, especially if your addiction was a coping mechanism or a self-soothing mechanism (which is so often is). it changes you and your life forever. and i dunno, i guess i feel like there’s still so many people who just can’t comprehend this and comprehend how much of a sickness addiction truly is. and i guess it’s really nice to find an artist you admire so much who DOES get it, who HAS experienced it. that’s all, i think.

[reflection-s-of-stars]

I memorized all my limes!

[milo-is-rambling]

I forget how much I hate the taste of vodka but the whipped cream vodka is so much better my god

[whereisthedamndaddymanual]

I make claims to 67, 107, 133.....and sometimes 30 and 56....even though I feel creepy with family.

[celiaelise]

Wait what there's autistic pain tolerance???