#not one born from an interest to hurt the innocent

[plusvanity]

Metalion was arguably one of Pelle's closest friends in Norway, and the very same person who saw Pelle trying to drown guinea pig in a jar, then putting it in the microwave. That story would have never been known if not for Metalion. He decided to share it, which points to him NOT being the "Pelle was an angel" type of person.

Yet he said that Pelle only pretended wanting to kill the farm cat and said he actually believes Pelle could have caught the cat if he wanted but pretended it was too fast for him. He also expressed belief that Pelle was actually fond of cats "in his own twisted way".

(Metalion was also the person who received the famous rant from Pelle about the inclusion of Garfield comic in the Slayer mag, with the accompanying "I HATE CATS" drawing where he put Garfield in the meat grinder).

What do you think about this? Do you agree with Metalion or you think he could have been wrong? I could have asked you this in dm but I feel like reading the discussion if anyone wants to add their two cents.

I definitely feel like Pelle was trying harder than his metalhead peers to seem brutal, tough, cold and 'evil' and his harsh antipathy towards cats is, in my opinion, the easiest way in which you can tell he's purposefully exaggerating his image.

Now, I wouldn't say he was an angel either. He was very complex as a character in the scene and I'm glad we have this story from Metalion to contour a wider view on Pelle's personality. I wouldn't consider him evil or an animal abuser for killing a rodent, but the way in which he carried out the act is quite interesting for a few reasons. If I recall it correctly, he was drunk when he did that. We all know that alcohol allows disinhibition and promotes reckless/ unthoughtful behavior. I see him as having fun and wanting to see 'cool and brutal' to his friends, so his sporadic decision to microwave the hamster must've been born from the wish to impress. And what wanting to impress really means? To belong.

I very much believe that a lot of Pelle's actions and declarations originate from his wish to belong, to be perfectly integrated into a small group of friends that he made. And this could be traced back to being bullied in school, having low self-esteem and being emotionally neglected. These are some of the conclusions that I tend to have when looking back at his history and relationship with others.

I don't have any way in which I can prove or disprove this, but my gut feeling tells me that Pelle wasn't sadist, cynic, or evil in the slightest. I believe he was, in fact, a sensitive person and sensitive does not equal 'angle' or innocent. I think he was forcing himself to be more intimidating than he was in reality because of a tough lesson that he's been taught since early in his life.

Another aspect of why he might be pressured to maintain this exaggerated act was because of the environment, after all the black metal scene was designed to capture 'the worst' in people as a backlash to conformity and normality. He couldn't be less aggressive, less brutal, less 'cool' than his peers, not when he finally had the chance to express himself in a way that could be appreciated by those who shared his feelings.

If Pelle was indeed prone to violence and aggression, it would've shown and there would've been stories about this, but there are none. The only person he ever hurt was himself, and this is not because he couldn't hurt anyone, because he could if he wanted to, but he took it on himself as a mindful decision.

Although self-destructive behavior is common for people with low self-esteem, it is not the rule. Many people lash out on others for their own feelings of self-hatred. (Vikernes for example)

I don't see the possibility of him secretly liking cats this far-fetched because exaggerating about just how much you hate something is sometimes a good indication of how you actually enjoy something that you're very ashamed of.

To sum this up, I think Metalion was observant enough or lucky enough to see beyond Pelle's shocking acts of impression. I see that instantly cooked rodent incident as something isolated, pushed by the circumstances in which Pelle was at that time rather than part of a continuum of cruel events.

I think Pelle had a limit when it came to seeming cool, and this would make a lot of sense if h indeed chose not to catch the cat at the farmhouse when he could just do that.

Some people take their frustration on smaller creatures because they need to punish a lesser being than them the way they've been punished by a bigger being. This is an antisocial mentality. Pelle could have done so, if he wanted to many times, but he didn't. Also, most antisocial acts are committed ALONE, not with friends, or at a party, or in any social circumstances and things like that don't stay hidden for long, so eventually people start noticing. This is clearly not Pelle's case.

[bardicious]

Soooo... Will and Hannibal are dead, right? I assumed Bedelia had cut off her own leg and set the table in preparation for Will and Hannibal.

[flowerandblood]

The Price of Pride (4/?)

[ canon • Aemond x Royce • female ]

[ warnings: fingering & oral sex, a kind of triangle, smut, the angst, description of the effects of murder, sexual tension, imprisonment, abuse of power, manipulation, violence ]

[ description: Prince Aemond finds a solution to the disproportion in the number of dragons between Dragonstone and King's Landing: he decides to find dragon blood and, like his half-sister, train dragon riders. He takes as his target the daughter of Daemon Targaryen and Rhea Royce, whom he abducts and imprisons in the Red Keep. Slow burn, darkish, insolent, arrogant Aemond. I have combined several requests here: (dragon blood female & prisoner female). ]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

The boy's death had devastated her.

Even though it was a strange child to her, in addition from a family she despised, it was still small and innocent – she had seen Prince Jaehaerys accompanied by servants escorting him to his morning classes when she herself had gone out to meet his uncle, to practice on Vhagar the commands as she did every day.

Knowing that her father had done this made her feel a partial sense of guilt for what had happened, though she did not understand why.

Was it because she was born of his poisoned seed?

That a part of him lived inside her?

She knew it was revenge for Lucerys' death, but after all, the little prince had nothing to do with it.

The death of an innocent being always hurt the most.

She watched his funeral procession from outside the windows of the Red Keep, from her prison that was her small chamber, thinking of her one-eyed cousin.

Were you with that fucking old whore whose tits you like to cuddle up to?

With your second mummy?

She didn't know why his lowered head, his face and big eye filled with tears of shame made her feel sympathy towards him.

However, the death of King's son made her reflect on her own life and what she had experienced in it.

She realised that she had lived for years as if in lethargy, spending her time riding horses and hunting, even though in the midst of her family, in fact always remaining alone.

She realised that she had never even kissed a man.

She had never experienced a touch that was tender, that was pleasurable, that made her feel safe.

She bit her lower lip, pacing around her room, suddenly getting an idea that was extremely dangerous.

Her cousin was interested in women – this she knew for sure – and after being humiliated by his brother in front of everyone gathered he would certainly not return to the brothel to his lover, whoever she was.

From what she understood, this woman was older than him, giving him fulfilment not only physically, but also purely childlike.

She knew he was weak, but now she also had the certainty that he was miserable.

She couldn't try to seduce him directly, offer to spend the night in his bed – he would send her away immediately, furious, knowing what she wanted to do and how she hoped to achieve it.

She had to show him what he could have, while at the same time not offering it to him herself.

She had to make him desire whatever she was in his mind.

"I want to ask you something, cousin." She muttered, standing over him with a jug of wine, wondering what she was doing. "And I know you won't like it."

She saw him freeze, looking ahead.

"You like to take risks, don't you?" He sneered, taking a deep sip of wine from his goblet without even bestowing a single glance on her.

His vision was hazy, his mind dulled by the wine.

He was weak, vulnerable, heartbroken by what had happened to his nephew, sunk in guilt.

This was her chance.

"No, but you give me no choice. I will fly with you and the will of the gods will happen, as you desire. However, the chance of me dying in flames or being devoured is just as great as the chance of me succeeding." She said uncertainly, and he sighed heavily, impatient, setting his cup down on the table.

"What do you want?"

She licked her lower lip, feeling her heart pounding like mad in her chest, cold sweat trickling down her back.

He would fall into a fury or fuck her, there was no other option left.

"Servant. I want to choose one and take him to my bed. I don't want to die without having any idea of this sensations." She muttered.

She saw that he froze motionless, his healthy eye open wide in shock.

Oh gods.

"Aren't you ashamed to ask something like that out loud? What self-respecting Lord will want you after this?" He asked coldly, annoyed, however it was not as aggressive a response as she had expected.

He himself didn't know what he thought of it, she thought.

Good.

"I don't care what the lords will think of me. If I become a dragon rider, my maidenhood will be the least of their worries. I have no desire to become either a wife or a mother. I could try to hide it from you, but I stand here before you and ask your permission like a dog." She said with a certainty that surprised her, recognising that her directness was due to the fact that she was partly telling the truth.

He was silent for a long time, his lips pressed together in a thin line, his finger in some involuntary reflex began to tap against the table top.

"Knowing what you ask, my soul will have no peace unless I am assured that no man has taken you by force."

There it is.

"I'll let you watch if it will soothe your conscience." She said without stammering, his grin turned towards her making her feel an uncomfortable shiver.

"It will."

Finding a willing person turned out not to be too difficult: she simply lied to the man she found handsome that the prince liked to look at such things and that it was his idea.

What could he do to her for those words even if he found out about it?

Were they not partly true?

Her whole body quivered in excitement and disbelief as, lying beneath Tyland Lannister's servant, she heard his lazy footsteps, felt his gaze on them, the fiery, thirsty lips of her lover pressed against hers.

It was a surprisingly wet and slick experience, not as pleasurable as she had imagined, however, it was not all that bad.

She swallowed hard, hearing her cousin sit down in a chair in the distance, and flinched when the man's hand suddenly clamped down on her breast, causing an unpleasant chill to pass through her.

"– no –" She whispered, tightening her hand on his wrist. "– not yet –"

She exhaled quietly, closing her eyes as she felt him take his hand away, trailing it instead around her waist, trying to feel what she had felt when her cousin had leaned over her face after she had fainted.

Serve me well and I will reward you.

When the time comes.

She felt it, that wonderful pulsing between her thighs, and sighed, opening her eyelids, involuntarily glancing at him. Her breath froze in her throat, her womanhood swelled all over as she met his gaze, dark and hot, his legs crossed, his head cocked in curiosity.

She gasped, feeling a squeeze in her throat and a cold shudder when the boy's body suddenly pressed her against the bed, constricting her space, making her fingers tighten on the back of his tunic in terror.

Is this how it should be?

Should she be so afraid, feel so cornered?

"– slow down –" She heard his voice, deep and displeased – her lover looked at him, surprised, panting heavily.

"– Your Highness? –"

"– slow down, I said –" He repeated with a kind of threat in his voice from which her lips parted in disbelief, some sense of gratitude and warmth spread through her heart, a pleasant stickiness sweeping from between her thighs down her buttocks.

He was protecting her, she thought, feeling the situation begin to slip out of her control.

This was exactly what she wanted.

Make me feel safe, she thought pleadingly, but no words left her lips.

Shame overwhelmed her.

"– sink your fingers between her thighs – prepare her properly –" He instructed the boy, her eyes grew big as she stared at him in disbelief – his nostrils twitched in excited breath, the corner of his mouth lifted in a dangerous smirk.

A sigh left her throat as the servant lifted her skirt and smallclothes, her gaze fixed on her cousin's face as his hand found her leaking, fleshy womanhood.

She moaned.

However, after a moment she flinched and swallowed hard, closing her eyes as she felt his fingers touch a very tender, sensitive spot, giving her pleasure and pain at the same time, not knowing what she herself felt, tears burning under her eyelids.

Why did it feel like this?

Why couldn't she enjoy it, why was she losing focus?

"– step back, boy –" She heard his voice, and then noticed that he moved towards them, startling her and him – she rose up on her elbows, panting heavily as he pulled her forward, sitting behind her back, pulling her close, his legs on either side of her body.

His arms embraced her lightly, his hand tilting her head back, allowing her to spread out comfortably while not taking away her sense of security.

She swallowed hard, feeling something long and hard pulsate behind her, pressing against her buttocks.

Good gods.

She gasped as she felt him press his nose against her hot cheek, his thumb running over her jaw as his free hand forced her to bend her legs at the knees, exposing her bare thighs.

"– bend over and lick her –" He commanded, running his full lips over the skin of her face, making her feel a simultaneous shudder of pleasure and terror shake her, his hand trailing down the exposed skin of her thigh.

Lick her?

What did he mean by that?

What purpose did it serve?

"– what? –" She mumbled, terrified, involuntarily reaching back with her hand, clamping it over his long white hair, wanting to pull away, hitting his hard body again.

She had nowhere to run.

"– easy – let me take care of this –" He whispered in her ear, making her moan stuck in her throat, her nipples became hard at his words, her throbbing walls clenching around nothing.

Let me take care of this.

He knew.

He knew what she craved.

She stifled a breath as the man obediently leaned between her thighs, a terrified, pathetic, surprised moan escaping her throat when she felt something warm and sticky slip between her tight, swollen slit.

His tongue.

She clenched her hand harder in his white hair, feeling her cousin's hand slide down her leg, to the very spot her lover had touched earlier – this time, however, she didn't feel the unpleasant pain as his fingertips merely circled around her oversensitive little bud, causing her to leak, stimulated from the inside and outside.

"– ah – oh, gods, t-too much, too much –" She mewled in despair as she tried to pull away from him, never having experienced a similar sensation before, he, however, held her in an iron grip, his free hand sliding from her face under the material of her gown, to her breasts.

"– you wanted it yourself – go on –" He said matter-of-factly in a way that sent a shiver through her – she tilted her head back, feeling the servant's tongue accelerate, forcing its way again and again deep inside her hot, throbbing cunt.

In some subconscious, involuntary reflex, she sought refuge, not knowing what to do with the waves of tickling pleasure and tension that were rising in her body, so she turned her face towards him and he leaned in, letting their foreheads touch.

For some reason she wanted to cry.

He was so close.

The gentle touch of his hand between her thighs, his thumb teasing lazily her hard nipple, his hot breath on her face, his embrace was too familiar, too safe.

"– if only you were my little sister – I'd caress you like this every night – would you like it? –" He breathed out encouragingly, and she shuddered all over in his arms, feeling her lover's tongue hit the sweet spot inside her again and again, her and her cousin's hips beginning to rub against each other, his manhood unashamedly hard and swollen.

If only you were my little sister.

I want this, she thought.

I want to be what you want me to be.

"– what would your father say at the sight of this – hm? – do you think he would be proud? –" He whispered, sinking his fingers into the throbbing folds of her moist womanhood, weeping with desire, teasing with lazy, slow circles her little bud.

She felt tears under her eyelids as she shook her head.

She didn't know.

She didn't know what her father would say to this sight.

He wasn't there for her.

He hadn't protected her.

"– you like it, don't you? – I can feel you're close – come on his face –" He exhaled and she shook her head, moaning from exertion, feeling something approaching, the tingling tension between her thighs unbearable, her breath heavy and hitched, droplets of sweat running down her skin.

"– g-gods, stop –" She mumbled out with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't take it any longer, and then she was shaken by a pleasure foreign and overpowering, hot and sweet, flowing in waves through her whole body, her lips, her nipples, her fingertips, her silken walls clenching around nothing.

For a moment she heard or saw nothing, heard his soothing whisper, his warm breath enveloping her face, his hands closed over her womanhood and over her breasts just continued to press against her skin, allowing her to calm down.

"You may leave. If you tell anyone about this, I will cut your tongue out." She heard his cold voice, but knew it wasn't meant for her – the man lying between her thighs had risen and simply stepped off the bed, leaving them alone, and she sighed loudly, as if she had just accomplished some extraordinary, demanding feat.

She didn't know why she had sought refuge in his embrace, why she had turned in his arms and snuggled into his body, burying her face in his neck, why she had felt nothing but peace as one of his hands lay on her back while the other slowly stroked her hair.

One by one tears ran down her cheeks, shame, relief and sadness spilling over her heart, making her only able to lie down and breathe. She closed her eyes, concentrating on his scent, the warmth of his body that pulsed almost imperceptibly, his manhood pushing against her stomach, his hands trailing gently over her body.

She thought that he was certainly proud of himself, but she decided that it didn't matter.

She needed his arms, she needed to hide, to disappear, to melt into him as one, not to think, not to feel, not to exist.

She fell asleep.

When she awoke, it was late afternoon – there was no one in the chamber but her, however, she knew it was not a dream.

Her bedding was soaked with his scent.

She wasn't sure who had benefited from what had happened. She decided, however, surprised by this discovery, that she did not regret it and did not intend to think about it again.

It had never happened.

As he had ordered, she was already ready before dawn, waiting for him in the courtyard in her riding attire, his mother, clearly displeased with his idea, tried to stop him, to his apparent annoyance.

"You cannot leave the Red Keep without Vhagar. Who will protect us?" She asked, and her son rolled his eyes, impatient, licking his lower lip.

"I leave you in the care of Sunfyre and Dreamfyre. May my brother be of some use for once. With the help of the gods, we will return in about four days with a new dragon on our side." He said and stepped around her, mounting his horse and nodding at her to do the same.

When they reached Vhagar's lair, the dragoness raised lazily her large head, looking at them curiously – having seen her almost every day, she had already become accustomed to her presence and scent, remaining calm.

"Come." He said, and she moved to follow him, seeing that he had taken in his hands some of the bags his horse had been carrying on its back earlier.

She walked behind him, never coming this close to her, watching as the prince tied the grey bags to the ropes hanging from the saddle.

"What are you waiting for? Climb up." He said, glancing at her impatiently, and she nodded, surprised by his directness.

They both had no intention of showing that what had happened had affected them in any way.

Being with him meant a constant battle for dominance.

So be it, she thought and glanced up, sighing quietly.

She was afraid that Vhagar would not be happy that someone other than her rider was trying to climb onto her back, she, however, merely tilted her head towards her and watched her, not moving from her place.

"Lykirī, Vhagar. Lykirī." Her cousin reassured her as she, panting heavily, climbed with great difficulty over one of the ropes to her very back and sat down in the large leather saddle.

She blinked as her cousin appeared at her side shortly afterwards, as if covering the same distance hadn't caused him any trouble, and sat behind her, pulling the bags up, using the ropes so that they weren't hanging down.

She grunted, leaning forward, hugging the front of the saddle, feeling him all too clearly, his body pressed against her buttocks and back. She shuddered as he slipped his hands under her shoulders, grabbed a couple of the front ropes and called out loudly.

"Sōvēs!"

She squealed, terrified, hugging the saddle as the dragoness suddenly rose up on her paws, moving forward with a loud thump, and closed her eyes as she spread her great wings and flapped them, struggling to slowly lift herself into the air.

She had never experienced something so terrifying and liberating at the same time.

It wasn't until Vhagar had stabilised her flight and was gliding through the heavens that she dared to open her eyes – she froze in awe, seeing clouds all around her, doing what other people could only dream of.

Indeed, there was something wonderful about it, she thought with delight.

In the freedom that flight in the skies offered.

She leaned against the front of the saddle, simply looking ahead with a smile, watching the sun rise in the distance. She drew in a loud breath, feeling her heart beat harder as his cheek pressed against hers, apparently resting in this position.

She felt his erection pushing against her buttocks again, but neither of them spoke.

It was just a man's natural reaction to a woman's closeness, nothing more, she thought.

She knew he was playing with her – she knew he already understood what she wanted.

What she needed.

Tenderness.

Care.

Shelter.

This was why he nuzzled his nose into her cheek, why he persisted in this position: he wanted to break her, wanted her to love what he could be for her.

She felt tears under her eyelids, her eyebrows arching in pain knowing that it was all just a lie.

Her father would never come back for her, and even if he did, it would only be for the sake of the dragon, if she could tame it.

But not for her.

She was of no value to either of them.

As they landed with a thud on the ground in the middle of a wasteland full of hills, evening was approaching. It was only when she opened her eyes, horrified by how intense the landing itself had been, that she realised that her cousin had not chosen this place without reason.

He must have noticed from above what she could see clearly now – vast expanses of black, scorched earth with dozens of animal skeletons.

She shuddered as she heard her cousin untie the bags they had taken with them, letting them fall to the ground, and after a moment he slid down the rope to the bottom, landing lightly on the ground himself.

"Come here."

She made big eyes, feeling that this height terrified her. She swallowed hard, turning her back, grabbing the line and squealed as she suddenly slid down it with far too much speed, thinking she was just going to kill herself.

She gasped as she felt someone's arms soften her fall, supporting her, his impatient sigh told her it was not a graceful jump.

"Get yourself together. We're going to recon. It's fresh tracks, it must not be far." He said, and she nodded, feeling her legs grow all stiff from the long hours of travelling in the saddle.

Her cousin looked around, as if trying to remember this place and how they were supposed to get back here, then moved ahead quickly, making her have to almost run after him.

"When we find it. What should I do? Approach it right away?" She exhaled, following him step by step.

"Mmm. No, you'd better not do anything rash. No sudden movements. You can't make a mistake." He said coldly, and she swallowed hard, thinking in the back of her mind that it was easy for him to say.

However, despite all the absurdity of the situation, she felt excitement.

If she succeeded, she would return to King's Landing on the back of her own dragon.

They climbed one of the peaks, from which they could see clearly in the distance the lying silhouette of Vhagar, the fields, hills and valleys, but not a trace of the dragon. Her cousin pressed his lips together, frustrated.

He thought this would be easier, and the dragon would come to them on its own, she thought with a sneer, but she dared not provoke him, knowing that they were both tired.

"We must turn back. It will be dark soon. We will start tomorrow before sunrise, moving in the opposite direction." He ordered and she nodded, following obediently behind him, looking around at the familiar landscapes.

She had an advantage over him here, she thought.

She knew these places, she knew these people.

So why didn't she feel the need to run away?

When they returned to Vhagar's liege, darkness surrounded them. Her cousin had picked up a few long, thick branches on the way, and when they sat down on the grass he laid them down and lit a fire using a flint he had taken from one of his bags.

She did not ask his permission, which did not escape his notice as she untied one of them and began rummaging through it.

"What are you doing?" He asked matter-of-factly, adding wood to the fire, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

"What did you take for us as nourishment?" She answered with a question to a question, causing him to merely turn his face away from her, trying to control himself for sure and not hurt her with his own hands.

"Bread and smoked meat." He said, and she sighed, pulling out a waterskin with spring water, drinking a few deep sips from it.

"If I had known that this would be our sustenance for the next few days, I would have asked you to bring a bow with us and I would have provided our meal myself." She said regretfully, and his face turned abruptly towards her.

"You don't need to eat. You will survive on water alone until our return to King's Landing." He hissed, meeting her tired, weary gaze.

"I have cooked many times while hunting with my uncle. It's a useful skill." She replied, pulling a woollen blanket from the pouch with which she covered herself.

Although Vhagar lay beside them, they were high between the hills where a strong, chilly wind was blowing.

She knew the night would be difficult.

Her cousin no longer spoke to her, gazing into the flames as if he could see something in them, his past or his future, his silhouette sitting on the Iron Throne or his fall from the heavens.

Finally, he lay down on the uncomfortably hard ground, placing one of his bags under his head, covering himself with the other blanket, and turned his back to her.

They couldn't sleep too close to Vhagar, for there was a risk that she would simply crush them by turning in her sleep. Therefore, they had to lie at a great distance from her, and their only source of heat was the fire.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think as her teeth began to chatter, her body trembling, her hands clenched into fists with each stronger gust of wind.

If this kept up, they'd both wake up with a fever.

"I'm cold." She said.

Silence.

A long one.

"I'm really cold. Aren't you?" She mumbled, guessing that he was suffering as much as she was, but would sooner die than admit it.

Targaryens and their fucking pride.

She stood up and walked a few steps with her blanket towards him, causing him to have exactly the reaction she wanted – he raised himself on his elbow and looked towards her, his jaw clenched in frustration.

"You have no shame."

"I don't care about shame. I'm supposed to die in dragon fire, not from the cold." She said and lay down beside him, slipping under his blanket, covering them with the other to create a thicker layer to protect them from the cold.

He slumped to the ground, letting the air out loudly, looking up at the stars as if he had given up. She embraced him, but not because she sought safety in his arms, but because he was a source of warmth that she wanted to cling to at all costs, hugging her face to his chest.

They stayed like that in silence, not moving – at first his whole body was tense, as if he thought that what she had done was just an excuse for her to slip her hand under his breeches and shamelessly try to seduce him – he relaxed, however, when he realised that all she really wanted was to lie in the warmth, and since he himself apparently felt better, also warmed by her presence, he said nothing more.

"What did you feel when you tamed Vhagar?" She whispered, looking ahead at the outline of the hills and mountains around them, feeling the cool breeze on her cheeks.

She was sure he wouldn't answer and felt herself begin to slowly fall asleep when she heard his quiet voice.

"Relief."

She blinked, surprised, not expecting him to put it this way.

Relief.

"Why?" She dared to ask further, still not looking at him, his heart hidden beneath the material of his tunic and cloak hit hard.

"I gave my family a reason to be proud." He explained, a note of bitterness in his words, as if something in that memory was painful to him.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, thinking with disappointment that she had never been anyone's pride.

Nothing she did mattered – not really.

She felt a single, lone tear run down her cheek onto the material of his leather coat and inhaled loudly, saying nothing more.

She shuddered, pulled out of her reverie when he slided his arm out from between their bodies – she froze when she felt him embrace her, cuddling her into his body, his fingers running through her soft hair as his cheek rested against her forehead.

She snuggled into him, into the merciless substitute of a protector he was to her, feeling the warmth in her chest as he let her face sink into his neck.

She knew that a part of him sympathised with her – she knew that, like her, he understood that in a day or two she might die for his cause, and so in some twisted definition of duty he tried to give her what she had craved all her life as a consolation prize for what she might lose.

It was so pathetic that she clenched her eyes shut and let heavy tears of shame run down her cheeks, her breath hitched and heavy, filled with pain.

She let him do this, let him take advantage of her desperation, the fact that she wanted so much to satisfy his vanity, because of how unavailable he reminded her of her father – by satisfying him, in her mind she was satisfying the man on whose lap she had sat as a small child, imagining that he had given her a second chance.

He created a lie for her to be able to endure what he was condemning her to.

"If you succeed. If you tame a dragon." He whispered, and she froze, feeling that he was about to reveal something vital to her, some secret he had never told anyone. "I will treat you like my little sister. I will care for you, and your place will always be by my side."

She shook her head, thinking how cruel he was, knowing exactly what to say, what to do to break her heart, to bend her to his will, to make sure she never betrayed him.

She cried out helplessly as he hugged her tighter to his body, as he cupped her cheek in his broad palm, rough from wielding his sword, and pressed his forehead against hers in a gesture that was too intimate, too tender, too sweet.

"I will protect you."

[okkotsuus]

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

okkotsuus 24

[solkara]

❛ 𝐅���𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐎𝐑 𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 , jacaerys velaryon and baela targaryen ❜

⌗ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 , you were born a fighter you had to be the life you lived didn't allow you the liberty of comfort growing up not knowing any form of affection until they came

⌗ 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 , jacaerys velaryon x fem! fighter! reader x baela targaryen

⌗ 𝐬𝐨𝐥'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 , omg this was so much fun to write !! had so many idea's ngl so I'm doing another part after this so I hope you like it <3

previous part , house of the dragon masterlist , next part

⌗ fear was an unfamiliar feeling to you. being a fighter and all. but you felt it now. as you walked with the guard up to the royal box. you tried to rack your brain for what you had done wrong. what could you have possibly done to warrant being summoned to the royal box?

⌗ "be at ease you are not in trouble" the voice of princess rhaenyra broke you from your thoughts. "my son's and their betrotheds merely wished to greet the incredible fighter who won their bout with such ease". you felt yourself let out a sigh you didn't even know you were holding. as you looked at the four in question. tipping your head in appreciation.

⌗ the four quickly introduced themselves. which they didn't need to do as you already knew who they were. heck the seven kingdoms did too. "what's your name?" the youngest lucerys velaryon asked. with innocent doe eyes. you quickly introduced yourself with a slight smile.

⌗ "how long have you been a fighter?" the question from prince daemon didn't surprise you. as many before him had asked how a woman such as yourself wound up with a carer as an arena fighting. "as long as I can remember my prince" to which he nodded. "it seems you have aren't the respect of your fellow fighters" princess rhaenyra then asked as she observed you with a fond smile.

⌗ "respect is earned over time princess, and I have been doing this for a long time" to which she nodded in understanding. before lucerys swooped in front of his mother again. bombarding you with questions. though you didn't really mind. you thought it was endearing. as he asked about everything from your strength to your weapon. which you let him hold. "could you teach me how to fight?" he asked excitedly.

⌗ "I'm sure prince daemon is an excellent teacher prince lucerys" you said awkwardly not wanting to offend either party. "I'm sure him having one more teacher on dragonstone wouldn't hurt him" the rogue mused as he sipped his wine. watching his family interact with the fighter with piqued interest.

⌗ "dragonstone? my prince my place is in kings landing" you asked confused as to what was going on. "we would like you to come with us to dragonstone, as a personal guard of baela and teacher to both my sons" the heir said with a soft smile as she watched your astonished expression. "you will be paid well and receive a title with time, but only if you wish for it. if not you are free to remain in king's landing as a fighter, the choice is yours"

⌗ at this moment in time you were speechless. the offer sounded to good to be true. but was that going to stop you from taking it. no. "it would be my honor princess" and with that you were brought into the embrace of an ecstatic lucerys. which you hesitantly expected. as physical touch had never been your strong suit. you were so happy that you did realise the two sets of eyes that had never strayed from you since your arrival.

⌗ that was six moons ago. and life was better than ever. you were a high member of princess rhaenyra and prince daemon's trusted guard. you trained daily with daemon lucerys and jacaerys. dragonstone had become like home to you. and to make things even more interesting you had seemed to have caught the attention of two unexpected individuals. baela and jacaerys.

⌗ the two had welcomed you warmly to dragonstone. taking every possible opportunity to talk to you. though you failed to notice how their 'normal conversation' had a certain flirty edge. and that you would unknowingly flirt back on occasion. the pair soon realised that they would need to take a much more direct approach to capture your attention. so one day after training the two greeted you whilst you were clearing your blade.

⌗ "princess baela-" you were quickly cut off by being pulled into a fiery kiss by the rouge prince's daughter. to which you melted into as you parted your mouth slightly allowing your tongues to dance with each other. as jace watched on with lust fogged eyes. once the two of you broke apart you now swollen lips were again seized but this time by jace which you welcomed. this time feeling a lot more confident as you kissed.

⌗ as the two of you broke apart. both desperate for air. you couldn't help but look up and admire the two dragons. lips swollen hair disheveled and eyes clouded with lust. all you could mumble out was a brief "oh." now all of the conversations they had made sense. "I wasn't aware you two had an interest in me like that"

⌗ "how could we not" baela said as she leaned closer to kiss you once more. but the two of you didn't get to far as the voice of jace drew you apart. "maybe we should continue in our chambers" to which baela nodded. looking for your approval. which you quickly gave. and before you knew it the three of you were in the two's shared chamber with clothes long forgotten and the outside world non-existant.

[pessimisticpigeonsworld]

TG stans constantly complain about how "Rhaenyra was a threat" to Alicent's children. What I find interesting about that is not once in any scene of HOTD does Rhaenyra threaten her siblings' lives. Meanwhile, Alicent and her sons threaten Rhaenyra's children's lives in almost every scene they're in/discussed.

In episode 5: Alicent summons barely born Joffrey to her chambers; knowing how vulnerable newborns are. Criston pits teenage Aegon against prepubescent Jace and Aegon would have seriously hurt Jace if not for Harwin's interference. Alicent harasses both Viserys and Aegon about how Rhaenyra's children are bastards; something that could very likely lead to them being executed or exiled if Viserys chose to listen to her.

In the scene where Aemond loses his eye, that happens because Luke was trying to defend his brother. Aemond not only was about to bash Jace's head in with a rock, but also was screaming about how he and Luke would die screaming like Harwin. Then Alicent tries to stab out Luke's eye, something that would kill him (she was holding the knife to thrust it down and stab, not slash like Luke did).

From the first episode Rhaenyra's children are present, Alicent and the other greens are threatening their safety and lives. Even in the scenes TG stans point to the most often as "evidence" of the "danger" posed to Alicent's children, it's Jace and Luke who are actually in danger of being killed. It's Rhaenyra's sons who are being constantly threatened by the greens and it's her son who is killed first in the Dance. The greens are the ones who threaten and kill innocent children, not Rhaenyra.

[pruneunfair]

Tropes in manhwa are awful yet people still defend them

I'm in a bad mood right now so what better way to release all that pent up anger by ranting on what can ruin a good story.

1: Slavery being inserted only for cheap plot and slaves being demonized as obsessive/greedy monsters for "not knowing their place"

Theres nothing wrong with wanting to insert slavery in your story AS LONG as it's not just cheap plot to make your MC look "better" by buying from a single to all of the slaves because let me tell you this: there is no such thing as a good slave owner, you cannot morally own another human being. A lot of manhwa like to have slavery be a part of their plot completely ignoring that just because the MC goes "wow this is terrible" doesn't make them a good person after they buy a slave.

Remarried empress does this with its villian Rashta by pushing the notion that she's being greedy for not wanting to stay in poverty so Navier won't suffer because apparently a slave wanting what the silver spoon mouthed nobles were born into is so terrible not to mention they justify slave owners and slavery in general as a punishment for criminals (neglecting the fact that children can be sold by their parents)

The villainess has fun again justifies a child slave being bought by the lead and he becomes an obsessive shouta love interest, fans continously justify by using the ancient lolicon excuse "he may look young but he's actually 99182823 years old!"

In divorcing my tyrant husband, Robelia buys 30 slaves and the only 2 that consistently show up have no other personality other then "we love you FL we will worship you till the end of time!"

There's a damn manhwa out there literally called the order of slave breeding and even when a story tries to do this correctly such as VADTD with Penelope being portrayed as a bad person for what she did to Eckles, fans have been so deluded by the idea that FL's buying slaves is "girlboss" that they think Eckles should be grateful to be Penelopes "pet"

2: ML's murdering innocent people after one guy hurts the FL

I already made a specific post about it before and I'll say it again: all this does is make your male lead/father figure look like a horrific monster. While you could say it's because its a medieval kingdom (objectively that is true that they would do this) manhwa and OI is the same place where despite in those times taking a mistress was considered normal they still view it as cheating and "how could you pick that slut when you have such a perfect wife!? 🤬" in most stories. So yes, modern morality is still inserted within these tropes. While I can get it's a way to show that the man in questions loves the FL so much he's willing to go to such lengths to protect her I think just mutilating the guy that actually did the sin would be enough because try imagining yourself as a faithful servant who was amazing at your job getting brutally slaughtered by the Emperor because your boss attacked his daughter or lover.

Into the light once again does this with Aishas dad murdering all the relatives and close friends of a count that tried to kill Ysis and Aisha, Aisha doesn't seem to care despite being in a situation where she was wrongfully executed in her past life.

Remarried empress does this too. After Navier is nearly killed by Krista's brother, Heinrey tortures and kills the dad and slaughters the servants of the zemensias. I can't remember if he also murdered the remaining family members but I wouldn't put it past him.

3: protagonist centered morality

Protagonist centered morality is the biggest indicator that a piece of media is dealing with a mary sue FL. Whatever the protagonist says is right is immediately morally correct. This is actually used to justify the last 2 examples with "it was for the FL!" Things like slavery, murder, workplace abuse, union busting, pedophilia, and being a POS to your loved ones are all justified if the protagonist finds a cheap way to justify it and you HAVE to agree with her because her backstory is very tragic 🥺. Protagonist centered morality also ruins the chance for good characters since the FL herself never has to grow as a person so she stays the same exact thing as she was just with more enablers and random characters will be treated as villains even if they aren't actually wrong about being suspicious of the Protagonist or calling out her behavior. It twists the narrative in such incomprehensible ways that you don't even know what your reading anymore. I can't even list all of the manhwas that do this given how many there actually are so I'll just list some that are at least self aware there Protagonist is awful/morally grey or isn't even a bad person but they still have flaws that can be pointed out

Villains are destined to die

My in laws are obsessed with me

Not sew wicked step mom

Depths of malice

The villainess turns the hourglass

Beware of the villainess.

4: villains being dumbed down to make the lead look smarter

This is unfortunately another common staple often used as a quick way to make the FL look smart and witty but is that really hard to look smarter when everyone else around you is an idiot? Not only does the FL not have to put in actual effort to best her enemies but you just start to pity the villain for basically being a punching bag. Dimwitted villains aren't always bad in fact they can be some of those most entertaining characters no matter much they lose but that only works when they are meant to be seen as a goofy character that your not supposed to take seriously. Villains that are written as extremely childish and stupid but your still supposed to treat them as serious antagonists on the other hand are just annoying since you wonder how the protagonist even got killed by them in the first life if they're so stupid.

Isabella de Mare while admitly having a good reason for being dumbed down (she's a teenager in the 2nd life so it's reasonable she wouldnt be as smart as her adult counterpart) is still a joke of a villainess who keeps flipping back and fourth from a snot nosed whiny brat to a mastermind only at convenient opportunities when the plot needs conflict.

Mielle from the villainess turns the hourglass was first portrayed as extremely conniving as she arranged for Arias downfall in the shadows but in the second life she fails at every scheme she has even though she has Emma and Isis to help her out.

Ragibach is a literal demon possessing the body of another woman with the goal of setting demons loose on the word to start another human vs demon war and she succeeded in that the first time, the devastation was all there so clearly she has to be a formidable antagonist right? Well no, she's another case of being dumbed down further and further so Keira can succeed and while they do understand some plot holes such as Ludwig not trusting her as much in the second life it doesn't change the drastic character change from evil genius to bumbling idiot.

In short: dumbing down your villains so your lead can look smarter is essentially going to give the equivalent of a hydrogen bomb vs a coughing baby.

5: feminine women being demonized as basic "other girls" sluts

Okay this one isn't nearly as terrible as the others on this list because we all love the good old "a demon makes itself look beautiful to deceive humans" kind of villain, in fact as you probably know by me by now, white lotuses are my favorite kinds of character and even in media outside of manhwa I always find myself drawn to angelic villains but it seems like this is less of that and more of "Oh those are all the other girls who just want a man to save them, look at how much better my badass rich boss babe is for working for herself while taking all of their men at the time 😎" in manhwa. As soon as a traditionally feminine girl shows up, comments are already calling her a two faced bitch and half the time protagonist is already skeptical of her. This is the opposite of what being a feminist really is, a real feminist wouldn't be putting down other women just because they dress with more pink with bows and skirts and while I do think for most manhwa this is unintentional I do wish that we could have more characters like Psyche, Helena, Athy, and Jennette that prove that being overly feminine doesn't make you a backpedal on feminism. This doesn't make the badass or sexy fl's bad either, it just means they can co-exist.

An angelic villain should be treated as evil for being a well calculated schemer, not because they have a light colored color scheme

6: toxic relationships being romanticized as good

You know for a large community that claims to be about girl code a good chunk sure likes to look the other way when it comes to toxic relationships as long as the abuser is "hot" and theres always the terrible excuse such as "he has trauma!" Or "he doesn't know how to show his love normally!" No just no we aren't doing that here. Cry or better yet beg has this problem with not only the narrative claiming that Matthias graping Layla is okay because she actually loves him and doesn't know it but a large part of the fanbase also defends it, the same goes with try begging, a manhwa written by Solche who also wrote cry or better yet beg and once again despite Leon being an abuser everyone's ready to justify his actions because he's just a soft little boy who ends up falling in love with Grace awww 😍 (what the hell?) Everyones all about not justifying abusers because they had a sad past until it's the "sexy" male leads with daddy issues.

7: maid slapping

This shit isn't asserting your dominance as a boss bitch it's just work place abuse. This trope has gotten so out of hand of being justified by narratives and readers that there is an entire webtoon called this isekai maid is forming a union that's all about criticizing twisted manhwa tropes that get brushed off with maid absuer being at the biggest one. It's funny because a lot of people complain that Isekai maid union villainizes the nobles too much but they never ask the same questions when a OI is demonizing maids as greedy and lazy in order to deserve a beating. This doesn't just stop at hands either it can escalate to threats of mutilation just to assert dominice which is absolutely sick. Most of the time these leads used to be office workers or terminally ill patients, they know how terrible it is to be treated like garbage by their superiors yet they continue to absue every maid who isn't getting on their knees for them. Most maids in real history would not mistreat a noble even if they were the most hated in the house and even if they did they'd be fired without a letter of recommendation so why can't the FL's just fire the rude maid if they care about dignity so much because I'm pretty sure getting violent with a maid isn't very dignified either.

8: disgusting age gaps

Very similar to #6 but in this case while the ML/FL isn't a cruel monster to their partner it doesn't change the fact that grooming and pedophilia is still a crime worthy of life in prison. You'd think "oh no way, this can't be justified can it?" You'd be wrong. Now I belong to house of Castillo thankfully has a larger fanbase of people who think that a relationship between a girl who got groomed by her knight is bad but in cases like into the light once again a lot of people like to say "Well Aisha is technically 28 so it's fine!" When it really isn't since Aisha is still mentally 14. Taming my ex husbands mad dog is another one that does this with Reinhardt grooming a 16 year old boy and its apparently meant to be "cute".

9: claiming a character as unattractive yet giving them a perfect body and appreance

I just think this is a major cop-out since there's time where they want to make a realistic story yet also wanting a fantasy fufilment. I don't think its a coincidence that the only woman in tears of a withered flower that yout supposed to support is a Victoria's secret model body type. Even though she's meant to be an overworked exhausted 33 year old woman being mocked for losing her beauty she sure as hell isn't drawn that way, the only other women around hae soo are all women with smaller boob's and in general more common body types that are either classed as stupid or jealous that Hae soo is so beautiful that all the attractive men want her

how about we don't pit all the women against each other for once? And let's especially not villainize other women because their jealous they could never be have large boob's and tiny arms+waist at the same time?

10: the commoner protagonist actually being a noble rich person all along

Look I know most of us had loved those "the hated child is the lost princess" GLMM but we need to drop it because it's kinda disappointing that the nobody who had to work their way to the top is actually a secret magical princess who had royal blood in them all along. While I did think the villainess turns the hourglass was a pretty decent read I was super disappointed finding out that Aria was of noble descent all along. I liked seeing a commoner protagonist for once and it really felt like it was critiquing the idea that all commoners and poor people who want nice things like the nobility are greedy animals. Something similar can also happen with certain saintess manhwas that decide to twist itself into "the villainess was the true saintess all along!" And I'm just sitting here thinking "well there goes the hope that you didn't need the super duper rare power to be a strong character"

I feel way better now after writing all this.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Could I get a scenario where the darling is super emotional and cries all the time. She's not particularly scared or trying to be manipulative, just cries really easily. I thought it'd be interesting to have Ash from black Butler, Kanike from Tokyo ghoul, Shiapouf from hunter x hunter, and any other emotional yandere who you think fits. Crybaby vs crybaby. Thanks!

I’m currently on a vacation so I had to keep this limited to only a few characters.

Tags: @lovley-valentine7 @leveyani @chxxz @jamayah @cynniical @shenryu-sama @maggiequinn59 @flaming-vulpix

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, isolation, manipulation, abduction

Crybaby vs. Crybaby

Ash Landers

▫️Tears are droplets of innocence, at least the tears that you spill are. It is a sight that he would even consider beautiful if it wouldn’t be for the grief that is piercing the essence of his soul when he sees you spilling tears of purity. Initially Ash mistakes your tears as a sign of fear, a thought that tightens his heart with anxiety and self-hatred but he doesn’t wish to bother you with his problems and keeps the stress and anxiety to himself, leading to emotional meltdowns when he’s all by himself. He’s convinced he’s doing something wrong every time you start crying and that behavior is hard to shake off even when he eventually figures out that you are just a very sensitive person. The sensitivity of yours is only more of what makes you so pure and perfect in his eyes. It is your tendency to cry so easily though that leads Ash to cuddle you even more all to not overwhelm your fragile feelings and to keep all anxiety and stress away from you. He will worship tears of happiness and joy but he will damn everyone, including himself, if your tears are ever caused by sorrow.

Shaiapouf

🎻His demeanor really depends on what stage of his obsession he is in already. If he’s still in his earlier stages where he overloads you with tons of expectations to be perfect Shaiapouf is going to be the main culprit for your tears. He may pretend to be nice but the disappointment due to your lack of self-control is written all over his face. He’s strict and his words are harsh, belittling you and even using his abilities on you to calm you and your tears down. If we’re talking about Shaiapouf after he has properly embraced his obsession things look quite a bit different. He’s using your sensitivity to manipulate you further into his arms, actively encouraging the overwhelmed meltdowns so that he can be the one to smother you and help you to calm down. He was born a servant, he needs to be needed by you and it just so happens that you need him too. That is at least what he tries to indoctrinate into your mind with attentive touches and sweet lies. What used to be a burden in his eyes has now turned into something precious and sweet which only gives him more reasons to isolate and protect you. After all the world outside would only overwhelm you.

Kaneki Ken

🔲Kaneki is already very fidgety and nervous, frightened that his darling is simply going to despise him and view him as the monster he thinks he is deep down as well. So the first few weeks after the abduction aren’t pretty. He knows that you tend to cry easily, his heart always tightened and hurt when he stalked you but it is still so much worse when he is the cause of your tears, especially knowing that those aren’t happy tears. You may as well have poured acid over his skin and it would have hurt him less than watching you spilling tears because you are frightened of him. His stomach is churning and worms are feasting through his pained heart, his own vision blurry as he stutters out apologies, longing to reach out for you yet terrified that you would only flinch away from him and only break his bleeding heart more. It is this initial trauma that has him trembling whenever you cry long after you’ve gotten through the worst parts and your tears are no longer his fault. His presence is hovering over you as soon as Kaneki senses that you’re crying, terrified that something or someone upset you.

Fudo Akira

👿Even after Akira’s transformation he has remained the crybaby boy he has been since his childhood. He’s highly sensitive and it is very likely that he may even start crying together with you when you start spilling tears first. At first he is a tad bit ashamed of it. In this new body of his he was hoping to be able to toughen up and to be your pillar of comfort yet his own tears get stained in his own tears the moment he sees you as he is just weeping with you, no matter whether you’re sad or very happy about something. Akira starts getting more comfortable the moment he realises that you actually seem to take comfort in the fact that even someone as intimidating and tough-looking as him has a very sensitive soul. So he just starts crying with you to comfort you and help you to regulate your emotions. If there is a negative reason behind your tears and it happens to be a person as well Akira may just pay them a visit later for some civilised talking but he prioritises you always first by comforting you before he weaponises his new strength and appearance. He hates it when your tears are those of grief and fear after all.

[evilminji]

I just realized? But a Reincarnated Force Sensitive Soul?

In Star Wars?

Would have a HELL of a time. Like... for real... you would be? Higher then most satellites. Assuming of course, you had ACCEPTED you're death. Made peace with it. Which? The Force would probably knock out for you?? In like... 3-4 business days. Tops.

What with being Connected To The Heart Of EVERYTHING.

Taste-Smell-Soul-Feel the RAINBOW and be at PEACE, bitch! Your Vibes are transcendent and your crops sublime.

It's? Probably like if LSD had not down sides or bad trips. You are ALREADY Luminous. Barely connected to this fragile matter. What do YOU care? Why be upset... about ANYTHING? Isn't the fragile light of this nearby fern ENCHANTING? Watch as it grows. Let's sit here for hours. Miss meal time. Pass out from hunger and dehydration, cause we forgot the flesh of our form need support, and we are a toddler.

We were watching grass grow.

At one with the universe.

No, we aren't paying attention. We haven't been and probably won't be. We concern people greatly. It's a legitimate medical concern.

Cause like?? Born knowing you are to die again. That this is all a beautiful dream. Why pay attention? Get attached? Why not relax instead? Watch the starlight. Ponder the flow of the Force through the trees? Lay by the fountains and just... listen to the water. Know Peace. Give Peace. Accept that it will end.

Be somehow the MOST Jedi a Jedi has ever been AND a living testament to how it is unsustainable to be so. You connect to no one. Cling to nothing. You do not thrive, you HAUNT. Your serenity is peaceful, yes. But it is the peace of the dead.

Is this what they have become?

It'd be? Very interesting? To see Cannon change? BECAUSE a character accepts it. Decides to do... nothing. In fact, so PROFOUNDLY does Nothing. So COMPLETELY is at Peace with their Inevitable Death... it horrifies everyone around them into action.

Is the small child, at utter Peace, radiating Acceptance and Tranquility, on the Temple steps. Well beyond the Gaurds. Knowing EXACTLY why Skywalker is walking towards them. Not looking up. Not stopping their meditation. Just... small. Peaceful. Someone who has never hurt him and isn't armed.

All it would take... is one movement.

A single slash.

So.....so why isn't he? W-why? (Because they're small. Because Padme wouldn't want this. Because they don't feel scared or angry or...or... Force, when has he last felt such... such peace? He's so tired.)

I can imagine, they'd still TRY to protect the innocent. It's different acceptance of your own End and acceptance of another's. But? It'd be so sadly beautiful? Hushed. And they'd make such huge differences while changing nothing at all.

That's just what haunting my brain, at least.

@legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @mayfay @babbling-babull @hypewinter

[dairy-farmer]

Behold! This thing! AKA me combining my love of younger tops and Tim being forced to accept love and affection:

When Damian first arrives at his father's home he is, loath as he is to admit it, scared. Scared to have had to leave everything and everyone he's ever known, scared his father will reject him, and scared if that happens his mother and grandfather will not take him back. So he's suspicious and violent and definitely lashing out: particularly at father's current Robin, Timothy Drake. Drake, according to grandfather and his own observations, is highly intelligent and a skilled vigilante - Father's favorite protege, even if he would never be so crass as to say so out loud. Drake had offered a tentative and friendly greeting and when Damian rejected and snubbed him, instead of getting angry Drake had gotten an appraising and calculating look in his eyes.

A few weeks into Damian's stay, Drake asks him to accompany him to the Batcave. This works in Damian's favor, since he had decided to try and remove Drake by pushing him from somewhere high and hopefully pass it off as an unfortunate accident. But what Damian finds when he joins Drake is nothing he could have expected: Tim gives him a Robin uniform. While Damian is (unacceptably, amateuriously) frozen, Tim explains that he had helped Alfred redesign and tailor a new Robin suit for him; he tells Damian that, even if he can't completely understand what Damian is going through, he knows that Damian is probably scared and worried about his place in the family (Damien wants to talk at the accusation being afraid, but it's true and he's still trying to process the uniform in his hands), and so Tim decided to give Robin to him. Batman needs a Robin, so he can't get rid of Damian if he is Robin (Damian almost wants to point out though glaringly obvious flaws in that logic, but can't bring himself to do so).

Damian does have the presence of mind to ask what will become of Tim: is he leaving? (Has Damian forced Tim from his family and home? He had been planning to do just that, but now the idea made his stomach hurt) But no, Tim has apparently been working on a new identity for a while now - although he won't specify if it was because he was planning to graduate from Robin on his own, or if it was a contingency in case something like this happened. Which is how Red Robin is born.

No one has ever done such a thing for Damian, given up something so important and personal to ensure Damian feels like he belongs (sure, people in the league had given their lives for him, but that had been because of his mother and grandfather, not because they cared about Damian himself). That is the start of an... intense interest (not an obsession) with Tim. It starts out fairly innocent, Damian is just a 10 year old child when he arrives, but it's only a year or two before his interest starts to become more... visceral, more... carnal in nature. Before he starts to want.

Tim is not a tall man, and his build is more slender than even Dick's. Even so, it takes a while for Damian to outgrow him. But Damian uses that time wisely: getting to know Tim better - learning his likes and dislikes and his character, subtly sabotaging those that dare to consider themselves worthy of Tim, and sparring with the family - including Tim. Tim is well aware of his physical limitations, and has trained long and had to compensate, becoming the hardest of the Bats to actually catch or pin. But Damian perseveres, and waits to make any moves until he has managed to pin Tim during matches 20 times in a row. He would never hurt Tim, would rather die, but Tim can be difficult when it comes to accepting love and affection - his birth parents apparently being to blame for his low self-esteem and trouble believing when others assure him of their feelings.

So Damian waits until he's 17 and both larger than and fully capable of restraining Tim if necessary, before he approaches Tim to confess his feelings. He waits until everyone else has left the Manor: Dick back in Blud, Jason with the Outlaws, Cass across the world, Bruce in space for a JLA mission, and Alfred taking one of rare trips to England to visit his (other, blood) family. Tim had suggested they forgo patrol unless necessary until one of the other returns, that way they won't be caught without backup in an emergency. After dinner - nothing fancy in the slightest, since while they can both cook, neither of them particularly enjoys it- they spent a pleasant, unremarkable evening enjoying each other's company. Eventually Tim announces he's heading to bed, and Damian says he will accompany him. Once they reach the family wing, Tim opens his door and turns to bid Damian goodnight, when Damian asks to come in, saying he has something important to discuss.

Tim invites him in, only looking the slightest bit confused when Damian turns the lock. Damian stands in front of Tim and puts his hands on Tim's shoulders, taking in every detail of his lovely face, from his silky black hair to his confused but indulgently affectionate expression. Damian had a plan, well thought out and thorough, but looking into those Beloved eyes he finds himself throwing out that plan and just dragging Tim into a deep kiss.

Tim let's out a surprised squeak before trying to push himself from Damian's embrace: what is happening!? Why would Damian suddenly kiss him? Has he somehow been pollened or mind controlled!?! Damian, of course, isn't having any of it - now that he's finally kissed Tim and felt his soft lips against his own, breathed the very air from Tim's lungs- he had no intention of letting Tim go until he's confessed, convinced Tim of his love, and made Tim his (with his cock).

Tim being sure that Damian has been compromised - he's never acted like this or hinted at these kinds of feelings! (Only Tim thinks this; everyone else is well aware of Damian's crush and possessive feelings). Just Tim struggling (but not really putting his whole effort into it because he doesn't want to risk hurting Damian by accident, even if he has been pollend or mind controlled) against Damian, as Damian alternates between murmuring words of love and devotion and stripping Tim's clothes away to run his hands across that beautiful, scarred skin.

Tim fighting to keep his wits about him against all these unfamiliar sensations - yeah, he's had sex before, but only a few times and it was a long while ago, before Damian joined the family. Damian very very gently non-coning Tim, who's only really resisting because he thinks something's wrong with Damian. After a few hours, once Damian is satisfied, they'll talk about everything - no, Damian hasn't been drugged or controlled or anything, he was just finally overcome with affection and lust and had no choice but to finally ravish Tim.

.... So yeah, have this thing😅 ~🦇❤️

!!!!!!!!!!

damian gently non conning tim who is convinced damian is possessed or brainwashed and therefore doesn't want to risk hurting him!!! damian having spent years pining for tim, thinking of the day he'd finally act on his affections, thinking of all the practice and preparation, and research on tim he did to make sure it would be good for him. (and it is, damian is easily the best fuck of tim's life bar none and he hates himself a little for the thought as damian grinds their hips together while whispering so softly and gently about how good tim feels, about how he's wanted this for so long).

damian gently bullying and pressuring tim to let him fuck him while the family is gone, utterly convinced he has succeeded in seducing tim until it's morning and tim is trying to run tests on him in the cave.

[venerawrites]

Silco x reader headcanons?

author's note: I swear, the things this man makes me feel... whew! Anyway, this is my first request for Arcane and I was so excited to write it! Thought it would be interesting if I made reader a councillor since I always see headcanons for him with an employee. Hope you enjoy and thank you so much for requesting! <3

All his life, Silco thought he would either remain a bachelor or eventually get with one of his employees. He didn't care much about finding a partner - taking care of Zaun and Jinx was already enough responsibility. Having someone to demand more of his time and attention was the last thing he needed.

But fate had a wicked sense of humour, so when you sent some of your bodyguards to go and arrange a meeting with him, his interest peaked. A councillor from Piltover seeking him? My, my, that would be interesting.

The initial arrangement was a simple alliance - Silco was supposed to keep the undercity's movements for freedom in check, as well as keep Jinx away from the topside. You, on the other hand, promised to provide information about all upcoming decisions and changes in the law approved by the Council.

He usually would never agree to trade with someone from the other side of the bridge, but something about you intrigued him. You were born and raised in Zaun, yet somehow made your way into the City of Progress and climbed the political ladder till you got to the top. While you claimed you had Piltover's best interest in mind, he couldn't help but be suspicious of where your loyalty truly lies.

Listen, Silco may think innocence and naivety are cute, but what truly attracts him is power. Brains. Someone who knows what they want and how to get it. Someone like YOU.

Soon the political dealings started to become more... intimate. Perhaps because none of you had a romantic partner, or simply because your secret meetings always took place late at night in his office, but it did not take long for your verbal exchange to become physical.

First, there were lingering gazes. He followed each one of your moves, almost like a hunter waiting for the right time to attack. Later, you started closing the distance, often circling him while you pried information about the latest rebellion news in the city. Your hands sometimes found their way to his shoulder or arm, gently squeezing his muscles or dragging your nails down his skin.

The eye of Zaun tried not to fall for your charms. He really did. But as you were luring him in, like a siren, how could he stay away? Plus, it didn't have to mean anything, right? Both of you were interested in influence and power, not love, so it wouldn't hurt if he just gave in to his desires at least once.

Except it wasn't just once.

After having a taste, he couldn't stay away. He would never admit it, but he definitely fell first. For you, it was all fun and games, but for him, it was a completely new experience. Sure, he fell in love once when he was a young adult, but it couldn't compare to what he was feeling toward you now.

God knew how much he hated himself for catching feelings. And for a councillor, of all people?

He tried to hide them for a while, but the way he grew up to be super possessive of you made his intentions clear as day. He liked to keep you as long as he could with him, delaying your meetings on purpose just so he could spend more time with you. He also asked to see you more often than your arranged meetings and if you said no, he would just show up at your home in Piltover, completely unbothered by the fact that you could call security on him at any point.

It would be a lie if you said his behaviour didn't trigger anything in you. You've met many men who were manipulative and calculating, but no one who was like him. His whole existence screamed 'DANGER' and by the time you realised you should not get involved with him on any level deeper than just physical intimacy, you were already a victim to his charm.

Being from two different worlds - one dark and dangerous, the other one safe and progressive - your relationship was pretty toxic. There is a constant distrust between you and quite a lot of arguments, especially in the beginning.

Slowly he started to open up to you, letting you know about his dreams for Zaun and his rocky relationship with Jinx. You also shared your story of how you escaped the streets of the Undercity and eventually earned your seat on the Council.

Jealosy is something you both possess and is a common cause for conflict between you. Silco sees competition in any male in Piltover (after all he has 0 influence over there, so he could never make an official claim over you!), while you severely disliked how obedient all his female employees are, especially Sevika. He finds your annoyance quite amusing, but he likes seeing that side of you, so he never really tries to reassure or comfort you.

He is not really romantic, but from time to time he likes to randomly give you gifts. He always tries to play it off, as if he didn't put any thought it in or if he just randomly saw an object in his house he thought you may like, but the amount of effort was visible in the beautiful packaging and the hand-written card. He especially likes giving you jewellery and making you wear it during your Council meetings.

Without a doubt he would try to influence you to give up your seat and join him and his cause. After all, you were born in the Undercity and is where you belonged.

As you won't give into his request and he doesn't want to give up on you either, your relationship would cause a lot of chaos and tension between the cities. Silco would often send either Jinx or one of his workers to go a cause mischief in Piltover, just to spite you. Every time you confront him, however, he would deny, a small mocking smile on his lips.

Overall, very toxic, but highly exciting relationship. He would burn the world for you to belong to him and ONLY him, and no matter what he did, you just couldn't stay away.

cc artwork: "Arcane" concept art

[carlsdarling]

HEAR ME OUT (up to you!!)

Part 4 to no mercy where they had the baby and they can actually resume to being rough and negan is just being an overprotective grandpa😭😭

No Mercy Part IV

Carl and Y/N have their son and are finally back to enjoying rough sex after a jealousy drama with Enid. Everyone is 18 or over.

WARNINGS: smut, nsfw, slightly violent sex (consensual)

After your and Carl's son Jamie was born, you had moved out of Rick and Michonne's household and had been assigned your own house in Alexandria. By now Jamie was three months old and you and Carl still hadn't resumed your sex life; mostly you were too tired because of the baby, you were still breastfeeding, plus you were still showing your pregnancy and that affected you because you were unsure if Carl would still find your naked body attractive. There were veins on your legs that hadn't been there before, and your stomach was softer and less firm than before, and milk came out of your breasts at the slightest touch.

Carl was on guard duty and you were taking care of Jamie and tidying the house. You decided to do some laundry.

You froze as you emptied the laundry basket from the bathroom. There was something red dangling from the pocket of one of Carl's jeans. You pulled it out and frowned at it: it was a thong, and it wasn't yours. Jealousy seized you painfully, because you immediately had a hunch who the owner of the panties was: Enid. The thong had a golden butterfly embroidered on the top edge, and you had seen it often enough over the hem of Enid's jeans.

Enid had also made no secret of how angry she was that Carl had ended the relationship with her after you returned to Alexandria and revealed to Carl that you were pregnant by him. She didn't respect Carl's relationship with you and took every opportunity to try to sabotage you. She kept stalking Carl somewhere and trying to change his mind; to get him to leave you and get back together with her. There had already been several bitter arguments between you and Carl about this. Carl swore he was no longer interested in Enid, but Enid just wouldn't give up, and apparently she had succeeded. It hurt so much.

You stifled your tears and quickly stuffed the panties into your own pants pocket as you heard footsteps approaching the bathroom, then your father Negan appeared in the doorway. Ever since Jamie was born, Negan had been paying you regular visits - much to Rick's annoyance. But Negan was completely in love with his grandson. Even now, he carried Jamie in his arms. "Jamie can already turn himself around," he announced proudly, as if this was his achievement. "He'll be a leader one day. He'll be just like me."

You preferred not to comment on it - firstly, Negan wasn't going to change his mind anyway, and secondly, you had other things on your mind. Your father seemed to pick up on your bad mood, and he looked at you inquiringly, asking what was wrong.

"Nothing, I'm just tired," you mumbled and gathered up the dirty laundry to put it in the washing machine. On your way to the basement, you saw a silhouette on the porch, you pulled back the curtains on the front door and recognized Enid, so you dropped the laundry to yank the door open. "What do you want?" you asked rudely. You would have liked to scratch her eyes out, but it wasn't her who had betrayed you, it was Carl.

Enid tilted her head and smiled sweetly. "Is Carl here?"

"No," you replied dismissively. "He's on guard duty."

"Oh, it's just... He left this at my place recently." With an innocent face, Enid handed you one of Carl's boxers.

There were a few telltale stains on the light blue fabric. Your face turned red with anger and pain. Carl hadn't had these underwear for long, so he couldn't have forgotten them during his relationship with Enid. And then there were the red undies in his pocket! The evidence was clear. Enid was obviously hoping for a reaction from you, but you didn't want to give her the satisfaction, so you grabbed the boxers and slammed the door in Enid's face. Now you couldn't stop hot tears from running down your cheeks.

Negan heard you crying. "Tell me what's going on, Y/N," he demanded angrily. "What did that girl want?" Then he spotted the boxers in your hand and put one and one together. "Are these Carl's?" he asked sharply, reaching for them. You nodded. Negan's expression darkened menacingly as he eyed the stains on the fabric. "So Carl's cheating on you. That little bastard; I'm going to kill him," he threatened.

"No, do not get involved," you ordered brusquely. "Please take the baby carriage and go for a long walk with Jamie." Carl would be home soon and you wanted to talk to him alone - even if there wasn't really anything more to discuss.

When Carl entered the house a little later, sweaty, dirty and exhausted, you were waiting for him with teary eyes and arms folded across your chest. When he tried to hug you to say hello, you pushed him away. "What's wrong?" he asked, puzzled.

"You're the one asking?" you shouted at him and threw the red thong and his stained boxer shorts to his feet. "You're cheating on me! You are a liar and a cheater!"

Carl looked completely taken aback. "What?" he asked confused and bent down to grab the underwear. He held up the red slip. "I've never seen this before," he said, confused. "What does that mean?"

"Oh, don't play dumb, Carl! You're cheating on me with Enid!" you accused him. "These are Enid's panties, and they were in the pocket of one of your jeans!"

"But that isn't possible," Carl claimed, ruffling his hair. "I swear I've never seen those panties before and I'm not cheating on you!"

"Oh yeah? And why did Enid just come by and bring your boxers that you left at her place after you fucked her? Those are yours, aren't they?" You pointed your finger accusingly at the boxers.

Carl picked it up and inspected it. "Yes, it is," he admitted. "But I don't know how Enid got hold of them, I..."

"Stop lying to me!" you shouted. "Enid had your underwear! And there are cum stains on them! The case is very clear!"

Carl turned red with embarrassment. "I can explain about the stains," he mumbled ashamedly. "It's... the thing is, we haven't had sex since Jamie was born, and... and I... I still have needs, and that's why..."

"That's why you fucked your ex," you said coldly. "Great, Carl."

"No!" protested Carl outraged. "Why won't you let me speak? I wanted to say that... well, I have no choice but to pleasure myself at the moment. I was on guard duty alone recently and... well... I thought of you, and then I... and I didn't have a tissue to clean myself afterwards, and that's where the stains in my underwear come from." With bright red cheeks, Carl looked down at his feet.

"Bullshit!" you snarled. "None of this explains how Enid got hold of your underwear."

"But I don't know that either," Carl tried to defend himself. "Any more than I can explain Enid's panties being in my pocket! All I know is that I tossed both the jeans and the boxers in our laundry basket! Last week already!"

"I don't believe you," you cried.

Carl held out his hands to you, looking desperate. "Please, Y/N, I love you, I would never cheat," he pleaded. "Enid's just jealous, she orchestrated this somehow."

The doorbell rang. "We'll continue talking in a minute," Carl promised and opened the door.

Michonne stood on the threshold. She looked suspiciously from one to the other. "What's going on here? Are you two fighting?" Carl sighed and gave a censored version of events. He left out the part about the stains in his underwear. Michonne frowned. "That's strange," she mused, "because a few days ago, on Monday, I saw Enid come out of your house. From the back door, to be precise. You weren't home, and when I asked her what she was doing in your house, she looked caught off guard and claimed she'd just wanted to return some comics to Carl."

"But I hadn't lent her any comics, and there weren't any comics there either," Carl said immediately. "Enid must have gone into our bathroom to steal my underwear and put her panties in my pocket," he stated angrily. "She wants to break Y/N and me up. That bitch!"

"I want to hear it from Enid herself," you insisted. But on the day in question, you had been home before Carl, and you hadn't actually noticed any comics anywhere.

"Let's go to her and confront her," Michonne suggested. "I can confirm that she was in your house."

The three of you went to Enid's house. Enid grinned gleefully at first when she saw your tear-stained face, but when she spotted Michonne, she suddenly looked panicked. Michonne spoke up. "So, Enid, spill the beans," Michonne said angrily. "What were you really doing at Y/N's and Carl's house a few days ago?"

"I...it was like I said...the comics..." stuttered Enid.

"That's a lie," Carl cut her off, upset. "I didn't lend you any comics."

"Yes, you did," Enid contradicted stubbornly. "You just don't remember."

" Oh really? What comics were they, and where did you put them?" Michonne questioned.

"I... I..." stammered Enid. "On the stairs," she then said.

"But I was home before Carl on Monday, and there were definitely no comics on the stairs," you replied.

"Then... then I put them somewhere else, I can't remember exactly..." Enid squirmed.

"Just admit that you wanted to cause trouble between Carl and Y/N," Michonne demanded angrily. "You could have given the comics back to Carl at any time without going to his house, that's a lie, Enid. I'll tell you what you actually did. You rummaged around in their laundry basket and put your panties in Carl's jeans pocket, and you stole one of his boxers. All to pretend that Carl was sleeping with you and cheating on Y/N. That is so vile, Enid. They have a kid together. Don't make it worse, admit it."

Enid blushed crimson and clenched her fists. "All right, yes, that's how it was!" she hissed, "But it's not fair! Carl should be with me, not her! He just ditched me when Y/N came back and announced she was pregnant! Even though she left Carl without a word!"

"That's not true," you said furiously. "I was sent back to my dad all of a sudden! I didn't even get to say goodbye to Carl! I didn't want to go, I didn't leave him voluntarily!"

Enid didn't respond. "And who knows if your brat is even Carl's? Probably not! You foisted it on him! I'm sure you've fucked several guys!"

Carl stepped forward, his teeth clenched. "That's enough now, Enid," he growled. "You apologize to Y/N right now!"

"'Forget it, I only had your best interests at heart, Carl. She's not good enough for you," Enid raged, slamming the door, but you didn't care if she apologized or not anyway - it had been proven that Carl hadn't been unfaithful to you, and you didn't care about anything else.

You and Carl returned home. Negan was still out with Jamie. As soon as you closed the door behind you and realized the two of you were alone, Carl grabbed you roughly by the wrist, kicked off his shoes and dragged you up the stairs to your shared bedroom, where he pushed you onto the bed and began to undress. "Carl!" you protested, "What..."

"Shut up," he said impatiently. "I want you now." He carelessly tossed his flannel and shirt aside and undid his belt, then unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down and off, along with his boxer shorts. His cock sprang free, hard as a rock and the tip glistening with precum, veins protruding. The sight and scent of it made you tingle with excitement.

You tried to get up from the bed, but Carl immediately pushed you back and pressed you into the pillows, hastily fumbling with your clothes. "Carl, I'm sure my dad will be right back with Jamie, and I really don't feel like it, it's too soon, I'm still breastfeeding, and..."

Carl leaned forward and bit lightly into your neck, then sucked hard and left a hickey. "I don't care," he murmured, his voice hoarse with excitement. "It's been months since I've been able to fuck you. I can't take it anymore. And I don't care if your body has changed. I miss you, Y/N." He tugged at your clothes, dropping them on the floor beside the bed and ripping your lacy panties in his hurry; he held your wrists together above your head with his left hand and spread your thighs with his right. Carl was so needy that he wasted no time with foreplay, he slid his glans over your clit and the opening of your pussy a few times, then pushed his hard shaft into you, moaning.

You let out a soft cry of pain as Carl's dick suddenly stretched your walls, you weren't used to his size anymore and you weren't ready at all, but at the same time, it felt so amazing. It was so intense to finally be intimate with Carl again.

Carl forced himself to wait a moment for you to relax, then he let go of your wrist and began to thrust hard and fast. "There you go," he gasped. "You're getting wet."

You promptly slapped him across the face. "How dare you just fuck me?" you hissed.

Carl grabbed your throat and gave it a quick squeeze that made you black out for a few seconds. "'Slap me again and I'll turn you on your stomach and take you from behind so you won't be able to walk for days," he whispered. "I'll fuck you whenever, however and whereever I want. Remember? Got it?"

Excited to the extreme, you caught your breath as Carl took his hand off your neck; it was true, you were reacting to him as you always had: With every second he was inside you, the wetness between your legs increased. You began to whimper and moan, digging your fingernails into Carl's back. "Oh my god, Carl. You're so good." You put a hand on his firm butt, feeling the motion of his muscles as he thrusted into you.

Carl propped himself up on his elbows and pulled out of you for a moment. He licked off the milk that had leaked from your breasts and sucked and nibbled a little on your nipples. His cock was dripping wet with the fluid from your pussy, even his pubic hair and the area up to his belly button were wet and slippery. "Look how horny you are for me, Y/N," Carl whispered, grinning naughtily.

"Put it back in," you moaned, writhing on the bed. "Please, Carl."

Carl did you the favor, penetrated you again and increased the speed and intensity of his thrusts. Your pussy was on fire, throbbing, you wrapped your legs around Carl's hips, only now realizing how much you had missed having sex with Carl. The room was filled with both of you moaning, sighing and the wet sounds your bodies were making.

"Cum with me," Carl gasped; pounding even faster, unable to hold back any longer. The orgasm swept over you like a hot tsunami, you screamed out, arched your back and buried your teeth into Carl's left shoulder as your muscles spasmed. Carl shot his load into you, collapsing on top of you, quivering with arousal and exertion. You both were totally breathless, Carl's heart beating hard right next to yours. His weight pressed you deep into the mattress, and you languidly stroked his back. You both enjoyed the afterglow, you kissed and looked deep into each other's eyes. "I love you," Carl whispered. "Only you, Y/N. Just you and me, no one else."

"I love you too, Carl." You feathered kisses on his neck and on the red teeth marks you'd left on his shoulder.

After a while, Carl lay down next to you and you snuggled together under the covers, exhausted, sweaty and happy. "Y/N? Are you home?" you suddenly heard Negan's voice. Before you could react, he appeared in the bedroom entrance and stared perplexed at the scene before him - you and Carl in bed in the middle of the day, the smell of sex in the air and your clothes scattered all over the floor. Negan cleared his throat sheepishly. "I'm... glad to see that things seem to have gotten sorted out between you," he mumbled, rubbing his chin, preferring to retreat to the living room.

Carl looked at you mischievously and you both burst out laughing.

--

Tags: @knochentrocken0808 @taylormarieee @xxcarlswifexx @tessasweet @richardsamboramylove55

(Sorry that this took so long. I was simply never completely content with the fic)

[dregs-leftovers-parsley]

trying to make a list of 70’s to early 80’s proto-yuri, if you know of any series i should add to this list please reach out!

also please check out this list of 20th century yuri, it has a broader definition and larger timescale but it's been immensely helpful in the curation of my own list so far

updated as of May 2: series are now ordered by year, titles and author names are listed in jp as well as english, some summaries updated, series added (sakura namiki, secret love, shiroi heya no futari, oniisama e, sakura no sono), summary sources are now listed at the end of each entry

updated as of August 21: all entries now include whether the manga has an english translation (and by what group) and whether i have personally finished it, some series added (utsukushii vampire, itoko valeria, hana no you na lilibet), added a link to the 20th century yuri list

“sakura namiki” / “さくら並木” (1957) - takahashi macoto / 高橋真琴 [read] [english fan translation by Lililicious]

-when yukiko throws a table tennis match against maki, an upper-classmen who she in love with she fears that she has driven a wedge in their friendship. As rumors and slander begin to swirl around the two girls Yukiko’s fear compounds. Will she be able to repair her friendship with Maki, and could this possibly even bring them closer than ever before? (my summary)

“Secret Love” / “シークレット・ラブ” (1970) - yashiro masako / 矢代まさこ [unread] [no english translation]

(no summary found)

“shiroi heya no futari” / “白い部屋のふたり” (1971) - yamagishi ryouko / 山岸凉子 [read] [english fan translation by Lililicious]

-Resine comes to a new boarding school to find she is rooming with Simone, a rebel who is rude to her from the start. However, Resine and Simone end up falling in love… (copied from mangadex)

“futaripocchi” / “ふたりぽっち” (1971) - riyoko ikeda / 池田理代子 [read] [no english translation]

-Kaoru, a poor girl and Reiko, the daughter of a wealthy family are on good terms and attend Aisei Girls' Academy together. These two, who had completely opposite upbringings and personalities, ended up becoming sisters when their parents remarried. Even as they rebel against each other and hurt each other, they gradually understand each other and deepen their bond, but eventually Reiko begins to develop romantic feelings for Kaoru. Attacked by the absurdities of society the beautiful sisters Kaoru and Reiko go on a journey, just the two of them. (translated from manga ookoku)

“maya no souretsu” / “摩耶の葬列” (1972) - ichijo yukari / 一条ゆかり [read] [english fan translation by Lililicious]

-A horror story, in which the main character and her family go to their summer house for vacation and people start dying one by one. The twist is that the main character, Reina, is falling in love with her mysterious neighbor, Maya. But who is Maya really, and how does she know so much about Reina's family? (copied from mangadex)

“utsukushii kyuuketski” / “美しき吸血鬼” (1971)- asuka sashiko / 飛鳥幸子 [read] [english fan translation by mangadex user MabitheBard]

-Lilah, an Austrian Count's daughter, is approached at a ball by Justine, an enchantingly beautiful woman of fellow Habsburg descent. The two quickly become friends, but little does Lilah know that Justine's keen interest in her may become a death sentence. (copied from mangadex)

“aries no otometachi” / “アリエスの乙女たち” (1973) - satonaka machiko / 里中満智子 [unread] [no english translation]

-Kubo Emiko and Mizuho Romi are two girls born under the Aries sign. Emiko is an earnest and innocent girl who grew up with gentle parents. On the other hand, Romi, who was raised by her fashion designer mother, has a fierce temper. Emiko admires Takashi from the equestrian club, but when she meets the strong and beautiful Romi, she gradually becomes attracted to her. Is this excitement... love? (translated from manga ookoku)

“yureru soushun" / “揺れる早春” (1973) - riyoko ikeda / 池田理代子 [read] [no english translation]

-Mako, who has excellent grades, is good at sports, and is popular, falls in love with Junko, a beautiful junior who is hated by all the female students at school. Mako is trapped by Junko's intense love and jealousy...!? (translated from manga ookoku)

“hana no you na lilibet” /花のようなリリベット (1974) watanabe masako / わたなべ まさこ [read] [no english translation]

-Angel, who lives in the boarding school of Sandor Academy deep in the forest, has had recurring nightmares since childhood. she dreams of a sensation of something climbing ontop of her and that when she opens her eyes she sees the face of a beautiful girl. She wakes up screaming in pain, as though her chest had been pierced by sharp fangs. Her roommate, Agatha, vanishes one night and Lilibet, a girl as beautiful as a flower, appears in her place. As if seeing through Angel's heart, which is attracted to her beauty, Lilibet invites her into her room. "I've missed you, Angel. You're mine now..." Lilibet she whispers and embraces Angel, trying to steal her lips. Angel runs back to her room in shock, but Agatha, who had disappeared, has somehow returned. However, something is clearly wrong… unbelievable events occur one after another... (translated from manga ookoku)

“oniisama e” / “おにいさまへ“ (1974) - riyoko ikeda / 池田理代子 [read] [english fan translation by Lililicious]

-Nanako enrolls in Seiran Academy, a prestigious girls' school, which is a girl's paradise for gorgeous students known as " Lady Kaoru," "Saint Juste," and so on. The selection committee for the school's social group "Sorority," of which every new student dreams of joining, begins. Sorority members are selected by upperclassmen, who vote on their family background, education, appearance, and other factors. Nanako thought she had no connection to this world, but for some reason she was chosen as a candidate...? (copied from mangadex)

“hadashi no mei” / “裸足のメイ” (1974) - fukuhara hiroko / 福原ヒロ子  [read] [no english translation]

-May is an ordinary high school girl with a crush on the handsome Kido from the soccer club. Thanks to taking a convenient soccer ball to the face she gets a chance to strike up a friendship with him. But on the same day she also gets caught up with the mysterious Misaki Kayako, who has mistaken her for someone named “Maya”. (my summary)

”itoko valeria" / 従姉ヴァレリア (1975)  - fukuhara hiroko / 福原ヒロ子 [unread] [no english translation]

-Every person has an encounter called fate. It comes whether we want it or not and guides us onto a set track. Encounter - and farewell. It's a turning point in life... Mona is ecstatic when she receives a letter from her cousin Valeria, who tells her that she's coming back after eight years. However, that was only the prologue to a spectacular story of unimaginable intrigue, love, and hatred... (translated from manga ookoku)

“kurenai ni moyu” / 真紅に燃ゆ (1979) - fukuhara hiroko / 福原ヒロ子 [read] [no english translation]

-Suzuna went to a shrine to see the double cherry blossoms in full bloom on her way home from school. However, she gets tangled up with the biker gang that was hanging out there and is about to be taken away when she is rescued by Sarasa, who happens to be passing by. Suzuna is immediately captivated by the sight of this gallant knight on a motorcycle, with her swaying red hair and feminine gestures. After that, Suzuna and Sarasa hit it off, but as they continue to be chased by biker gang members, a major incident involving the two develops...!! (translated from manga ookoku)

“umibe no kain” / “海辺のカイン”  (1980) - kimura minori / 樹村みのり [unread] [no english translation]

-One day, Sano, a fashion designer who lives in a beach town, meets Nobuko, a woman who is trying to drink water from a tap at a park. Sano casually invites her to her home and gives her a ticket to an exhibition on the way home. At the exhibition, Sano feels as though she lost to a more popular designer, but Nobuko says she prefers her designs. On the way home, Nobuko confesses her troubles in not being able to dress femininely. Since she lives alone, they meet often and talk about their pasts. As Nobuko confesses her worries and receives advice from her, she begins to develop feelings for Sano. (translated from wikipedia)

“kanojotachi” / 彼女たち (1982) - kashi michiyo / 樫みちよ [read] [no english translation]

-On her first date with her boyfriend, Misono, a second year high school student, meets Ruiko, who looks like a beautiful young man. At the fashion show her boyfriend brought her to she sees Ruiko on stage as a model. Ruiko is a lesbian and is dating a friend of Misono’s brother, Susan. Misono becomes interested in Ruiko, and Ruiko is also attracted to Misono's purity, but... (translated from manga ookoku)

“ibutachi no heya” / イブたちの部屋 (1983) - nagahama sachiko / 長浜幸子 [unread] [no english translation]

(no summary found)

“sakura no sono” / “櫻の園” (1985) - yoshida akimi / 吉田秋生 [read] [english fan translation by Heterophobia Fansub]

-The drama club at Ouka Academy has a yearly tradition of putting on a production of Anton Checkov's The Cherry Orchard for the school's founding day festival. These interwoven tale of love and friendship focus on four girls in the drama club as they prepare for this year's presentation. (copied from mangadex)

[spacedace]

Snippet/prolog thing from a DP x DC fic that lives almost entirely inside my head outside of this & a few other bits.

Please feel free to take this as an overly long prompt haha

If anyone wants context to this let me know and I'll be happy to info dump at you lol

-

The kid had been eleven the first time John Constantine met her.

A little ghost girl, too small for the crowns and dominions that were rightfully hers, wandering the world alone and unattended because to stay in one place would drive her mad - or worse. He didn’t think himself as having a particularly soft heart, but there was something about little Stella Phantom that grew on him - a bit like a mold, he liked to explain. Maybe it was the way she swore like a sailor and kicked a demon in the low hangers with a feral grin the first time he met her. Maybe it was just how lonely she looked, small and slight in the large world she was so obsessed with exploring.

She had a family. A Grave of her own that worried about her, but who couldn’t follow her on her constant travels no matter how much they wanted to. Proof that being some of the most powerful beings in existence wasn’t enough to prepare you for parenthood.

Somewhere along the lines she started following John around. Interested in what he was doing, where he was going, who he worked with. It hadn’t taken long to get her folded into JL Dark. Zantanna had blanched when he’d shown up with little Elle, pulling in the big wigs from JL Light to argue about the ethics of involving a child in their work. As if Supes and the Bat had legs to stand on with their own brood so often in the thick of danger. Elle was safer under his watch than she’d be under the loose oversight the Titans had or whatever fresh hell was going on with Young Justice but hell if anyone would listen to him on that front.

He lost the war when she met Superboy Jr. and Robin V.

She’d adored them from the start, delighted at having children her own age around to spend time with. They formed a little team, working together here and there, then more often as they got older. She still worked mostly with JL Dark, but she was growing up. Spreading her wings a bit.

Elle was seventeen when the Bonds first formed. The spider-silk thin threads finally winding themselves into the heavy binds that spilled out of her Core and reached out for anchoring in the boys. It was sickeningly sweet, in the way puppy love always was. She was too young for Core Bonds like that to settle, of course, in the way children were always too young when they fell in love the first time. It was normal though. Ghost children the Realms over made Bonds only for them to fade or change as they grew, almost never anchoring to anyone til they were full grown.

She’d blushed as red as Marvel’s suit when she realized John could see them, stuttering and embarrassed. He’d teased her about it for a long time, about how much she’d grown up, how much trouble she was going to cause, how he was going to have to fight the big bad Bat and his pet boy scout when she inevitably dishonored their poor, innocent sons. It was entertaining, endearing.

He waited for the Bonds to fade or shift. Weeks. Months. Years. As she turned nineteen, he started to wonder if they would stick around. If in another few years they might strengthen, begin the slow process of anchoring.

She was twenty-one when her boys - calling themselves Flamebird and Phoenix now - started dating each other.

The Bonds remained, steady and solid and painfully unanchored.

John stopped teasing her about them.

They hadn’t changed to accommodate platonic bonds, nor had they faded any. Their tendency to tangle around her like snare was another point of concern. Core Bonds weren’t meant to cause difficulty for the ghost they were born from, and they certainly weren’t meant to wrap around the ghost’s limbs and body in painful loops like that. They weren’t supposed to hurt.

When she was twenty three he started suggesting it might be time for intervention. The irony that he of all people would be trying to get someone to take steps to cut out the thing harming them was not lost on him. Nor was the way the fond feelings he had for the girl had skewed decisively paternal over the years in a way that his younger self would have mocked him for endlessly.

He felt better about broaching the subject knowing that her Grave had been suggesting the same thing. That he wasn’t overstepping the bounds of whatever odd partnership they’d developed over the years. John was, he had very reluctantly come to accept, the girl’s mentor if nothing else. His job was to teach her and guide her, not be her parent.

No matter what his old, battered heart might try and suggest.

Even still, he couldn’t help but be concerned.

She was twenty-five when they got temporarily launched into that broken, bleak world. When they met the Elle and Flamebird and Phoenix of that horrible dimension.

The three alternates’ bonds were anchored completely, tying the triad together in threads of silver and green. Not even Other-Elle’s complete, sickening deterioration into something cannibalistic and feral had been enough to break them. He can’t imagine how much it must have hurt to see that, for his girl to glimpse a world where something she’d longed for for so long happened, only for it to seemingly be at the expense of reality itself.

He helped cover for her, after their two groups had been mixed up and separated for the night - or what might be called night in a world that no longer had any light to make those kinds of distinctions in time. When she came back with the Flamebird and Phoenix of that world, after their little separation from the larger group he kept her two boys misdirected. Distracted Nightwing and Zantanna so they didn’t go asking too many questions he knew Elle wouldn’t want answered. The Bat John was helpless to do much about, but thankfully the big brooder seemed too intent on the desolate, lightless world itself to notice the way Elle’s gaze was going distant, bittersweet at the edges.

He didn’t know what, exactly had happened in the hours she was gone. He could guess, from the way the Other-Phoenix and Other-Flamebird looked at her, the way she avoided her boys. Loneliness and desperation made for an easy slide into bad decisions. John might just have to admit that Zantanna had been correct, all the times she’d said he was a bad influence on the girl. Not that there was any surprise there.

Elle’s Bonds were even more of a knotted mess than before. Offered something so close to anchoring only to find no purchase. They twisted about her throat like a noose now, ready to strangle the life out of her one day.

He signed off on her leave of absence when they finally made it back to their home dimension.

Anyone else would want details to write down. Would want to know the specifics of why and for how long and a whole mess of other details she either wouldn’t or couldn’t answer. He’d get his ass roasted over the fire for the mess the paperwork was in, but that was fine. He’d endured far worse for far less important reasons.

Personal leave, he’d written.

Duration of leave: indefinite.

Reason for leave: None of your fucking business, Bats.

They shared a cigarette on one of the high catwalks in the Watchtower watching dawn break on the world below. Grateful to see the sun and stars again after those two days in utter blackness. They didn’t talk about her Bonds. About what happened. About how she hadn’t talked to her Boys since coming back. Just stood and smoked. He pretended not to notice her tears. She pretended not to notice his. Neither of them had ever been any good at goodbyes.

When the time came she bumped his shoulder in thanks - for the cigarette, for the company, for the years of friendship and family - before turning and stepping through the bright purple door standing impossibly in the middle of the walkway.

He glimpsed the green of the Infinite Realms and the distant shape of her Lair beyond. A world of worlds, paradise to one that never stopped, always off to find something new, something never seen before. It was against all odds that she’d even stumbled upon this one in the first place. A small speck in the crushing infinite.

When the door closed it did so slowly, a painful whine and a soft, mournful click all that marked her leaving.

John watched it bleed out of existence, and wondered if he’d ever see her again.

Six months later, the stars started to disappear.

[mousy-nona]

If you're still accepting prompts: Lucifer and Alastor are getting closer and closer, and Lucifer makes it clear he's interested in Alastor sexually. Alastor's uninterested in sex with anyone, but goes along with it because he thinks that's what he's supposed to do in a relationship. Lucifer stops when he realizes Alastor's dissociating through the whole thing.

They fell together like a storm. Furiously, without regard for those who might be caught in it. It started with a few raindrops – a few petty insults here and there, nothing too serious. But before they knew it, they had graduated to psy-ops (oh dear, your favorite duck is gone? You must learn to take better care of your things!), campaigns of terror that sent the residents of the hotel fleeing for cover, and full-on fist fights.

And finally, during one of those fights, they found the eye of the storm: an accidental brush of the lips. So quick, so innocent. Easy to brush off as if nothing had happened. 

But Lucifer found his heart was beating so fast it felt like a buzzing in his ears, and he knew he had found the truth of it. The reason why Alastor’s presence was like a perpetual itch he couldn’t scratch. Why he couldn’t take his eyes off of the demon whenever he was in the room. 

So he kissed him again (furiously) and Alastor had kissed him back (tentatively). 

Things didn’t change much after that. But Lucifer found himself making excuses to touch him, his fingers trailing a second or two longer on his chest when he grabbed his shirt during a fight, or lingering at his back when he pushed him out of the way. There were more of those sweeter moments too – cups of coffee shared in silence as they watched the morning sun rise over Pentagram City, reading together in front of the fire when everyone else had gone to bed, Alastor making biting (but helpful) comments as Lucifer glanced over the agenda for the annual Hell Assembly. Lucifer started moving some of the stuff from his workshop to Alastor’s studio, and when Alastor worked on his script for his next radio show, Lucifer would tinker with his experiments. And Alastor only got a little mad when he accidentally set the curtains on fire. 

They fell together so naturally that Lucifer didn’t even realize he had fallen in love until he found himself making Alastor a cup of coffee just the way Alastor liked it – black as sin, with cinammon sprinkled in – and he turned around to find Alastor had made him a cup just the way Lucifer liked it – a healthy splash of milk with five sugars. It was automatic, a thoughtless habit born of a hundred mornings where they’d done the exact same thing. 

“What?” Alastor asked.

“I’d like to keep you forever.” 

“What?” Alastor repeated.

“I love you, you idiot.” 

Alastor didn’t say it back for several weeks. Lucifer tried not to let it affect him, because love was freely given and Alastor didn’t have any obligation to love him the same, but Lord in Heaven it hurt. Were the rumors true? Was he really heartless? 

Then one night, when Lucifer was bent over a particularly difficult blueprint, he found the room had gone eerily silent. He glanced over at Alastor, who, instead of studying the current events in Hell for his latest broadcast, was staring at him with an intensity that made him nervous.

“What do you want?” 

Alastor melted into the shadows, and reappeared inches away. 

“Alastor, what in the world–” 

“Hush.” Alastor pressed the very edge of his claw against his mouth. “That’s quite enough out of you. I’m trying to concentrate.”

On what? Lucifer thought. 

Suddenly, Alastor leaned forward, and their lips met. It was just as delicious as the last time, and Lucifer felt himself melting into the kiss. Then Alastor’s tongue prodded against his lips, asking for entrance. Lucifer gave it, letting out an embarrassing moan as the taste of smoke and freshly roasted coffee and the barest hint of spice invaded his mind. He pushed forward, toppling them both onto the ground as his hand brushed against the hem of Alastor’s shirt. 

And Alastor, for his part, did…nothing. He didn’t touch him back, but he didn’t push him away either. Lucifer took that as a win and brushed his fingers across the bare, smooth skin of Alastor’s stomach. 

Alastor stiffened, his muscles locking in place. Lucifer glanced up, breaking their kiss. “Is everything okay?” He asked gently. 

Alastor’s expression was as unfathomable as the deep, but he nodded. “I thought I told you not to talk.”

Lucifer frowned. “Are you sure–” 

Alastor leapt forward, their mouths crashing into each other again. “Don’t. Talk.” He hissed in between desperate, ragged breaths. Lucifer groaned and resumed his exploration, running his hands up and down the hard planes of Alastor’s chest, his broad shoulders, his thin waist, his hard hips – so different from Lilith’s voluptuous curves, but different was good. His pulse fluttered like a bird’s as he reached for Alastor’s belt and started tugging. 

“Alastor,” he moaned, arching up to see if Alastor was feeling as good as he was – and abruptly stopped moving.

Alastor looked…empty. Far away. His eyes were like glass marbles, staring past and through Lucifer into the quiet darkness beyond.

Lucifer hissed and jerked away. Alastor stirred, as if rousing himself from a deep sleep. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong?” Lucifer nearly snarled. “If you hated it, you should have told me! You didn’t need to put yourself through this!” A bitter taste filled his mouth. His hands felt dirty somehow, and he held them behind his back, as if that would somehow make them both forget what had just happened.

“I don’t hate it,” Alastor insisted.

“Liar, liar, pants on fire.” 

“It wasn’t terrible,” he amended.

“Fantastic,” Lucifer groaned. “I’m just going to – I’ll just see myself out, shall I?” He tried to escape to the safety of his room, but Alastor’s hand wrapped around his wrist, holding him tightly in place. 

“But this is what people do, isn’t it?” He huffed, his strange red eyes gleaming with an emotion that Lucifer had never seen on him before. “When you–” He broke off, as if he couldn’t quite make himself say it. “When they’re like us,” he finally finished. 

“Like us?” Understanding hit him like a lightning strike. “Oh. Alastor, did you do all this because I told you I loved you?”

“And I…feel similarly for you,” he choked out, looking like he was contemplating jumping out the window while he said it. “And people who feel this way –” 

“Alastor, this is you and me.” Gently, so as not to scare him away, Lucifer held his hand and pressed it to his heart. “When have we ever done things the way other people do? That’s the beauty of relationships – we can write our own rules, and to hell with what other people might think. Besides, we’re not exactly the conventional couple. I think I hate you almost as much as I love you. And now I know you love me too. You put your own comfort aside to try and make us work.” He swallowed, running his finger along Alastor’s sharp jawline. A love he hadn’t known since the Fall filled his spirit, and the room lit up with a gentle golden glow. “Thank you.” 

The relief emanating from Alastor was nearly palpable. He swallowed, then wrapped his hand around Lucifer’s. “One small correction.” 

“What’s that?”

“I think I hate you more than I love you.” 

Lucifer rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Tacky prick."

"It takes one to know one."

[wings-of-fire-confessions]

Feeling bold today, so I shall be unanonymous with this one

I feel like Clay could be interesting. We wouldn't know this as after the first book, we don't see his pov but...

Imagine all of your life. You're told that you're a monster. Someone destined to kill as that's you supposedly did when you were born and your guardians hit and scream at you both to vent stress and under the belief that you'll become the killing machine they thought you were meant to be, you eventually assume that eventually you'll become this killing machine, Afterall that's how you were when you first came out of the egg, but after time and time again you find that the monster in you never comes out, even in times you believe it will, after a while you realize that you never were a monster, kindness was in your heart the moment you've hatched, you can rest easy now! Or can you?

That brings me to my main point. It could be possible that Clay suffers from survivors guilt. He doesn't want to kill Fjord, but he dies anyway, and in the hidden kingdom, you can see him wincing when Glory mimics Fjord's color pallet. He finds out Asha died trying to bring his egg to the talons of peace, Crane despite having no way of preventing it was killed recently, and while he saves Starflight, Starflight is still badly injured in the process. Clay's personality traits after his pov are probably because in these fleeting moments of peace, he feels relieved, for a little while, he doesn't have to think about innocent dragons dying, despite this death and destruction still manage to come charging in to his life and finds himself failing everytime, afterall what's the point of not being a monster when he still can't protect the dragons in the war or even the dragons close to him and I think those thoughts culminate to what he did in the brightest night

After seeing all these dragons get hurt because of what he believes to be him, he sees what might be Starflight, Sunny and/or Fatespeaker about to be killed by the dragon bite viper, and he saves them sacrificing himself, he knows he's going to die but it's okay because he was able to save his family after all these thoughts of failing to save other dragons he was finally able to save someone, even if it meant he died in the process....

But hey, this is just a theory, a wof theory!

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