#she s so mother (deranged)

[alsoika]

Drip, drip, drip

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Period Reds

genre. [F][C]

warnings. Talks about periods; as in MENSTRUAL CYCLES. No actual mentions of blood but it does talk about tampons, pads and cramps.

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, reader is aged between Hyunjin and Han, includes all members of Stray Kids in some way, Lee Know as Minho

This was a request by an Anon!

Hope you don't mind that I tweaked it a bit!

pairing. OT8 x 9th member

w.c. 1.1K

synopsis. It's that time of the month again, so how do the boys handle it?

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

Waking up, you knew that that day was going to be a problem.

You’d started your period yesterday. And as usual, Day 2 was always the worst for you. Everything felt twice as difficult. Lower back pain? Unbearable. Cramps? Unbearable. Overwhelming urge to not move? Unbearable in your line of work.

Not only did you have to waddle to the bathroom like some sort of deranged cowboy, but the ondol in the apartment stopped working at the beginning of month so your tootsies were cold. Your mother had always nagged that your cramps were worse because you were barefoot on the cold floor. You hated every second you were out of bed…

Not to mention your lower half needed a soak but the unfortunate thing about Korean bathrooms was that there was no tub. Just a double filtered showerhead attached to the sink.

At least the water heater worked…

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After allowing the discomforts of this morning literally go down the drain, you found yourself holed up in one of Binnie’s pullovers. Not wanting to be confined to your room, you made your move. Fuzzy socks and house slippers on, you trudged your way to the living room, the plush couch calling your name. Everyone was out for the day besides Hyunjin since it was one of the rare days off.

Speaking of Hyunjin, the couch was where he found you not even fifteen minutes later of laying down. Half asleep and cozy with s Pochacco blanket that remained in the living room. The title song of some random Netflix show playing on the tv nearly lulling you to sleep.

As he dried his hair with a towel, he made his way to you. A pep in his step until he saw how your eyebrows remained furrowed. Kneeling by your head, he touched your forehead while calling out to you gently.

“Y/N-ah?”

“Mm?” you roused softly.

“You ok?”

“Mmhmm”

“You don’t feel warm, so you’re not sick…at least not yet.”

“’m not sick Hyunjinnie. My uterus is just mad at me for not being pregnant,” you mumbled.

“Oooh,” he says, already used to how casually you talked about your period with them. With that new information squared away, he took out his phone to message Minho.

‘We have a Code: Empty Nester’

Minho hyung: How is she?

‘Image.png sent’ Minho-hyung: Ah it’s day 2 Minho-hyung: Give me 20 minutes. I’ll be there soon. Minho-hyung: Message Felix too ‘Ok’ ‘Lix, we got a Code: Empty Nester’ Yongbokkie: Which day are we on? ‘2’ Yongbokkie: ‘2 ½ batches of extra fudge brownies coming up.’

Nodding to himself, he looked back towards you. You’d basically conked out on him, so he couldn’t ask you if you needed any of the American medicine you had. Instead he decided to do the next best thing.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

Minho and Han walked into the rapper dorm; hands loaded with groceries for the soup that he was going to make for you. You’d commented once that it had settled your stomach when he’d whipped it up the first couple of times during your period. So now it was basically a staple during these times.

They were rendered motionless immediately after taking off their outside shoes. Through the opening that lead inside the apartment, they were able to see you and Hyunjin asleep on the couch. Somehow Hyunjin had managed to wiggle himself behind you and had essentially koala wrapped himself around you. They silently chuckled as they walked past, careful not to make a sound. It was common knowledge amongst them that you got terrible sleep any time you got your period.

The two of you stayed asleep until the soup was just about ready for lunch. Felix and Jeongin walked through the door, each carrying a kimchi container filled with brownies. Smiling as they watched you stir, Felix handed over his container to the maknae and made his way towards you.

“Hey sleepyhead,” he greeted softly while cupping your cheek as he crouched in front of you.

You gave him a delirious smile in return, still in the process of waking up.

“You hungry?”

“I am,” the muffled voice of Hyunjin was heard from behind you. The two of you giggle as the lanky man detangled himself from you.

“Minho-hyung made your favorite-” the Aussie began.

“Soooup,” you cut him off with a croak.

“Haha, yeah soup. And I made brownies.”

“Extra fudge?”

“Of course, I’m not a monster.”

“You guys are the best,” you said with your best half asleep smile.

“Wanna get up?”

“Yeah, just give me a sec,”

The other thing about Korea was that tampons were not widely used in comparison to pads. So getting a box of 12 was not worth the price. Instead you had to wait for your friends and family back in America to send you a mega pack to keep over time. Which meant that you were able to feel everything shifting as you moved about.

Hyunjin helped you up slowly from your laid down positions. Occasionally having to stop every now and then. Until a sudden pain in your lower stomach had you take a breath in sharply. A few seconds of worried glances from the boys had you reassuring them that you were fine and that it happened every now and then.

“I’m gonna go freshen up first then meet everyone in the kitchen, ok?”

As you made your way to your bathroom, you heard Jeongin calling after you.

“Hyung said that him, Changbinnie-hyung, and Seungminnie-hyung were at the store picking up snacks for your stash. But then Sungminnie-hyung said that they were out of your chocolate covered sunflower seeds. They said they’ll be here in like 15 minutes.”

“Aww, tell them I said that’s ok and thank you!”

Phone in hand, you sat on the toilet. You couldn’t help but reflect as the sounds of the boys getting rowdy in the kitchen intensified. You were very appreciative of them and how far your relationship with each of them had come. How grateful you were for their understanding of you and your menstrual cycle. There have been plenty of childish men in your life that had tried to make you feel bad when talking about it but they were no longer worth your time.

Your guys certainly made everything easier to deal with.

You knew you’d gotten lost on your phone doom scrolling when a timid knock sounded from the door and Chan questioned if you were alright.

‘Uh-oh…’

“…I’ll be out in a sec!”

a/n. For my sake, 9th member will never be a different age than where she's at. Just to keep everything orderly.

Tag list: @elizalabs3

This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'm your mother now, chapter 1

masterlist series masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6 part 7 part 8

summary: when you wake up in a strange room, you soon come to realize the amazing Black Widow, who appears to be the perfect role model for girls all around the world, is greatly deranged…

pairing: Dark!Natasha x teen reader

warnings: yelling, a lot of swearing, dark themes, kinda evil Natasha

genre: angst

words: 2972

a/n: I really wanted to write a dark Natasha fic but I didn't want to make it romantic or anything, so I went with the idea of Natasha kidnapping a child. Please don't read this if you are not comfortable with dark themes. Reader is kinda abused but that's because of Natasha's trauma.

Hope you enjoy, and please let me know what you think :)

(I decided to make this a series, as I have so many ideas but find them simply too long for one fic. I will probably make a separate masterlist for the series) 

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work 

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

You dropped your bag on the floor, kicking your shoes off and walking through the house, allowing yourself to fall on the couch in exhaustion. You were in highschool, and no matter what teacher you'd ask, they all called you their best student.

You passed every test, got good grades for every project, but mentally you were slipping. You hated your life. You hated the stupid loop you were trapped in. Every day is the same. You were tired. 

Your foster parents were scheduled to come home after dinner, so you knew you'd be able to lie on the couch for a while without being yelled at.

So that's what you did. 

You took a nap on the couch, enjoying the quietness of the house, when a noise upstairs catches you off guard. 

You get up slowly, carefully walking up the stairs. You had seen horror movies, and you knew what a bad idea it was, yet you decided to do it anyway. You creeped up the stairs, through the hallway and made it to your bedroom. It was small and there weren't many places to hide, but you were cautious anyway. 

Your window was open. The curtain was moving slightly due to the breeze outside. A shiver ran down your back. You had that feeling again. The same feeling you've had for the past few weeks. The feeling of being watched. 

You walked to your window carefully, pushing it close and locking it. Didn't you lock it yesterday?

Before you could even turn around, an arm clasped around your waist and a hand holding a cloth covered your mouth and nose. You tried to scream and try to get out of the person's grip, but it was of little use. The person holding you was strong. Way stronger than you were. 

You flung around in their grasp, trying to hit the arms that were holding you, but it was of no use. You heard a woman's voice behind you, shushing you and telling you it's all gonna be okay. Your eyes started drooping, falling close. The last thing you heard was a simple sentence….

“Shh baby, mama's got you…” 

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

Natasha had been observing you for weeks. She saw you in the park one day, sitting on a bench. You appeared to be okay, but she could see the way you were holding back tears. It took everything in her not to walk up to you and comfort you. 

After that day, she decided to watch you more often. She watched you when you picked out your clothes. She watched you when you went to school. She watched you when you came home and got yelled at. She watched all of it. 

After watching you for about a week, she decided to do some more research. She had to know everything about you. You were absolutely perfect.

She found out about your parents, how they left you in front of the police station one night. They didn't want you, and Natasha's heart broke. The foster families you were placed with didn't care much for you either. You were often heavily neglected, and you never knew real love. 

From what Natasha had seen, you were barely capable of taking care of yourself. She wondered how often you showered, how often you ate and if you even brushed your teeth. 

No one seemed to have taught you how to live, and it broke Natasha's heart. She was determined to make you feel loved. She knew it was fate. She had to take care of you. It was simply meant to be. 

Natasha had been trying to have a child for so long. After her past in the Red Room, she knew she'd never be able to conceive herself, but she had tried everything there was. She had gone to adoption agencies and tried to adopt. She had applied to become a foster mom but nothing worked. She'd pass most criteria, but when the psychological tests came her test scores dropped. The authorities simply deemed her to mentally unstable to take care of a child.

Natasha was mad. Mad at the authorities and mad at herself. She just wanted a child. That's all she's ever wanted. How on earth did anyone dare deny her that.

After she was denied for foster care, she was upset, but she didn't dare give up. Natasha was determined that she would find someone for her to take care of, and she did. Anyone in their right mind could see it. You were destined to be with Natasha. 

After observing you for quite a while, Natasha decided it was time. You were crying almost every night, the stress of school and your grades were simply too much. Natasha couldn't bear to see you like this any longer, so she finally decided to make her move. She snuck in when you were at school. She didn't even have to sneak in through the window. The doors had an easy lock, and she could easily pick it open. 

When she made her way inside, she immediately went up to your room. She looked through it, smelling your clothes, touching your bed and everything you owned, which wasn't a lot. 

She clutched your only stuffed animal tightly to her chest, a tear rolling down her cheek. She was finally going to be a mom, and she couldn't wait. 

She collected some of your stuff, but only the stuff she couldn't replace, which included some notebooks, coloring books and your stuffed animal of course. She stuffed it in a bag and put all of it in her car. After she finished, she made her way back inside and waited. 

When she heard you come home, she was nearly jumping at the anticipation and excitement. 

She started making some noises, hoping you'd come upstairs soon. She had opened the window in your room, knowing you'd walk over to close it. You did that every day. If you forgot to close the window, you'd close it after coming home from school. 

Soon enough, she heard you walking upstairs, peeking through the door of the bathroom. She waited until you went into your bedroom, indeed closing the window as she expected.

The moment you weren't looking, she snuck into your room and quickly covered your face, making you inhale the Chloroform she'd put on the cloth. You were flailing around heavily, trying to get loose from her grasp, but she just held on tight. 

Natasha tried to comfort you, shushing you as you slowly lost consciousness. 

After you had passed out, she carefully lifted you up, walking down the stairs and, after grabbing your school bag, walking back to her car. She was careful as she placed you on the backseat, protecting your head as you slept peacefully. 

She placed your stuffed animal in your arms, smiling at the sight of you fast asleep. She got into the driver's seat and took off, driving you two far away from the big city.

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

You groaned as the light hit your eyes, covering them with your hand as you blinked a few times, trying to get used to it. You stretched your arms above your head, slowly waking up from your deep slumber. 

The bed you were laying on was soft, way softer and more comfortable than you were used to, but you didn't really notice. The drugs were still wearing off, your brain pleasantly fuzzy as you slowly regained control over all of your senses. 

When you yawned and brought your hand up to your face, you finally realized the clothes you were wearing were not yours. 

You sat up quickly, scanning the room and realizing it looked nothing like yours. It was way too big, but it did seem to be arranged to your style and interests. You took in the room, confused as to how you got there and why it seemed to be accommodated perfectly to your wants and needs. 

You slowly slid your legs off the bed, sitting on the edge and carefully standing up, afraid your weary state would make you fall over. The pajamas you were wearing were soft and seemed to be made out of an expensive silk. 

You slowly stood up, walking around the room slightly. You thought you were dreaming. When you looked out the window, there was nothing but trees. You appeared to be in some clearing in the woods. You checked out the room, noticing how the books on the shelf looked an awful lot like the books you owned, except the books in this room seemed to be new and neat. 

It confused you, and when you turned around, you noticed the bedding was the same bedding as you'd always had, just for a queen sized bed. 

There were three doors in the room, and you ran to the closest one. When you opened it you found a closet, probably as big as your room back home. When you opened the next, you found a bathroom. It looked almost impossibly clean and the shower looked like it came straight from a millionaire's home.

When you opened the third door, you finally stood in a hallway. When you looked right, you saw another door, which was probably where the hallway ended, so you decided to go left. You walked fast, wanting to get out of the house as fast as possible. 

You were very confused by the whole situation. You remembered someone kidnapping you, but these were not the circumstances you expected to wake up in.

When you stormed down the stairs, you could see a kitchen on your right. You spotted a door right in front of you. It looked like the front door, so you immediately ran towards it, trying to open it. It didn't budge. You'd need a code, a finger scan and voice recognition. You sighed as you leaned your forehead against it. 

After standing there for a solid 5 minutes, you decided to explore the rest of the house. 

You reckoned you were alone, as no one had approached you yet, even when you tried to leave the house. You slowly walked into the kitchen, from it spotting a living area with a few couches, and on top of it, you saw a redhead. 

You froze when you saw her, unable to move or talk as fear overtook your body. 

“Ah, good. I was wondering when you'd wake up. I was thinking of ordering take-out. Just come over here and we can pick something,” the woman spoke as if she'd known you for years.

You didn't move, so the woman turned around, putting her book aside and getting up. She walked towards you slowly, but she didn't seem worried she'd scare you away. “You don't want take-out?” she questioned, putting her phone on the kitchen island. You stood next to it as she now stood in front of it, crossing her arms. 

“Where am I?” you shakily asked, worried you'd upset her. You knew the woman, of course. Every person in the world knew her. She was Natasha Romanoff. The Black Widow and fearless Avengers, although she retired a few years back. 

“What do you mean, silly? You're home of course,” Natasha spoke, looking confused as to why'd you even ask such a question. 

You frowned. “This isn't my home?...” Natasha shook her head. “Of course it is.” “Why did you kidnap me?” Natasha shook her head at your question. “I just brought you home, sweetie.”

“What the fuck?! Take me home!” you yelled, and she looked a little surprised before her expression went back to normal.

“I know it's your first day here, but you do not speak to me like that. Do you understand?” she responded, but it only made you madder. “Who the fuck do you think I am? Let me go, you crazy bitch!” you yelled as you tried to push her, but Natasha easily caught your wrists. 

“Careful honey. I know you're confused but that is no way to speak to your mother.” “You're not my fucking mother-”

Slap.

Natasha had slapped you across the face. Your head turned from the impact, your cheek almost immediately reddening. tears stung in your eyes as you moved your hand up to cup your cheek, a silent sob wrecking through your body.

“I am a very lenient person, but don't you ever dare speak to me in such a tone again,” she said. “Now go sit on the couch and think about what you want to order for take-out dammit.” 

You moved slowly, keeping your head down as you sat on one of the couches, silently crying over the situation. After a few minutes, Natasha returned from the kitchen, holding an ice-pack. She grabbed your chin and tilted your face up without a word, pressing the ice-pack against your red cheek. She softly smiled down at you, using her free hand to pet the hair out of your face. 

You sniffled, and she leaned down to give you a kiss on your forehead. “Mama didn't want to hurt you like that sweetheart, but you took it too far,” she said, pulling back and smiling down at you again. “Mama loves you. I promise.” She pulled the ice-pack away and softly kissed your cheek.

She put the ice-pack on the coffee table and sat on the couch to your right. She pulled out her phone from her back pocket and seemed to scroll through something.

“So what are you feeling like?” she asked, looking at you with a smile. You sniffled quietly, looking down to avoid her gaze. “We could do burgers, or maybe sushi? I know those are your favorites,” she told you, and you instantly wondered how she'd know such a thing. 

“Come on. Tell me what you want,” she urged, nodding slightly to encourage you. 

“Fries…” you said quietly, and Natasha smiled. “Exactly what I was feeling. Would you like chicken nuggets on the side?” she asked you, and you nodded. “Perfect,” she said as she typed it into her phone, paying quickly and tossing it aside.

“The food will be here soon. Would you like to watch a movie while we wait, or would you rather explore the house a bit more?” she asked, patiently waiting for your answer.

You shrugged, not wanting to pick an option that might make her mad. “We can also just sit here for a while. I know you must be confused, but I promise you everything will fall right into place.”

You were mad. Mad at how Natasha acted like everything was fine. Mad at how she acted like she had any authority over you. Mad at how she'd slapped you. Mad at how she was acting like she was your mother. Mad at how she seemed unbothered and acted like your behavior was insane. But mostly, you were mad at yourself. Mad how you looked up to her. Looked up to the amazing Black Widow. She had always been your favorite Avengers. How could she not be?

After sitting on the couch for a few minutes, you looked up slowly, seeing Natasha staring at you with a smile on her face. 

“Would you like to watch something now?” She asked, holding up the remote. When the hell did she grab that? You nodded slightly, and Natasha smiled widely at you for it. She pressed a few buttons on the remote, and soon the tv lit up with your favorite show ready to play. Natasha pressed play, and the show started exactly where you stopped last night.

You sat quietly as you watched the show, scared to make any noises. 

After about an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Natasha got up to open it. “Just wait here,” she said as she walked away. You got up from the couch and peeked around the wall, seeing the door and catching a glimpse of a blonde woman. 

She didn't look like a delivery person, and you realized Natasha must've called someone she knew to make sure no one knew the location of the house.

The woman handed Natasha the take-out bag and they spoke for a moment, before she moved to give Natasha a hug. They hugged for a second and Natasha kissed the woman's cheek. You watched as they said their goodbye's, hearing Natasha say she'll visit the blonde woman soon. 

You quickly made your way back to the couches, sitting back down and waiting for Natasha to come back.

Once she did, she set the take-out on the kitchen counter. You watched silently as she moved around the kitchen, grabbing two plates and opening the bag. “Just so you know, I see and hear everything. Don't sneak up on me again. You're old enough to ask when you want something,” Natasha spoke, not looking up from her task of plating the food.

Your breath caught in your throat. You should've known. She used to be an assassin for goodness sake. Of course she could tell if you'd watch her. 

Natasha grabbed the two plates and brought them back to the couches. She handed one to you, but when you went to grab it she didn't let it go. You looked at her, and she raised an eyebrow to you. “Thank you…” you said silently, and she smiled as she let you take the plate, moving to sit down herself. 

You ate in silence, not missing the glances Natasha shot your way. You found it creepy. You had no idea why you were here and what Natasha wanted with you. She had referred to herself as your mother a few times now, and it confused you beyond words. 

For now, you decided to let the confusion go, focusing on eating your food and surviving the night. 

Who knows what tomorrow would bring…

chapter 2

[buttercandy16]

Mine to Covet

(Dark!ReverendMotherJessica x Female!Reader)

Word Count: 3.9K

Summary: An unfortunate fate where your lover's mother wants to have you all to herself, and she's willing to do anything.

Warning(s): Dark fanfiction, Smut, Yandere, Dub-Con, etc.

A/N: I do love my yandere. Another anon also asked for a yandere/kidnapping fic and I'll probably write that one next. Also, English is not my first language so please don't come after me due to my grammar. Enjoy!

Gimme me more requests!! Please!

-_-_-

JESSICA’S POV

As a Bene Gesserit, I possess supreme levels of discipline, including complete control over my emotions and urges. So how is it that I can feel my blood boil in anger and taste the bitterness of envy violate my tongue as I watch my own son woo the woman he claims as his? Why do I feel the strong urge to cut off his hand the moment it touched yours?

At first, I was confused by this foreign feeling, so I grew angry with myself. I didn’t understand what it was.

It first occurred when Paul, my only son, introduced you to me. A Fremen girl he has grown to fancy. I remembered how he gushed over you, clearly seeking his mother’s approval, my approval. But no words from his lips reached my interest for I had my focus solely on the divine creature presented to me. With a barely concealed amusement, I observed your fidgeting form battling the urge to look me straight in the eyes, it was clear to me that you were nervous, the reason may be from knowing that I am the Reverend Mother or maybe because it is I who birthed the Lisan al Gaib or simply because I am Paul’s mother, it mattered not to me. What mattered was the pleasant feeling that I get from your presence alone. Such a strange girl… However, my amusement ended swiftly when Paul held your hand in his. My breath hitched and my once relaxed hand turned to a fist as my vision started to bleed red.

What is happening to me?! Why do I feel this way?! I remembered muttering inside my head. I felt as if I was no longer in control of my own body. Fear clawed against my skin and with great haste, I silently spoke the litany of fear to calm myself. Careful not to expose the battle within to anyone present. Unfortunately, I find myself feeling the same way right now.

Not long after realization struck me like a ton of bricks. The dreadful realization that I simply covet you…the girl whom my son is in love with. I want you as much as he does… maybe even more so.

I blame my late Duke’s death for having these thoughts. Perhaps it is caused by the sudden loss of the man I loved that pushed me into having these strong urges towards you. Maybe I see him in you and I'm feeling lonely. Or maybe I’m just truly damaged and deranged that my head is now filled with such corrupted thoughts. I am desiring something or rather someone I can’t have.

But you will have her… she is yours… the voices in my head whisper.

“No, she’s with Paul… She belongs to my son,” I whisper back as I look at you longingly while hiding in the shadows.

She belongs to no one else but yours… Yours to love… yours to keep… yours to defile… yours to consume…

“Stop it… You have no idea what you’re saying. I cannot hurt Paul like that,” I weakly argue back as my eyes start to water with tears. I love my son dearly and because of that, I will fight hard against the voices… against my feelings. But deep inside I know I’m fighting a losing battle… I know that I have already lost.

_-_-_

Time passed and bit by bit my resolve crumbled and the thoughts of my son turned into nothing. Now, all I can think of is you… and the millions of other ways I can have you.

She is yours…

Claim her…

She is yours…

Claim her….

Eyes dark with lust and pure deranged obsession I look at you once more while hidden in the shadows as I whisper to myself, “She is mine and I will claim her.”

-_-_-

Y/N POV

"You're so beautiful, " Paul whispered in my ear, making me smile.

We've been sitting out here for some time now. Watching as the sun sets for the night.

"We better go inside, Paul. It's no longer safe to stay out at this hour"

Paul nodded in agreement before he pulled me up with him and we started to walk inside.

"Oh, I almost forgot. My mother wants to see you," I stopped when I heard what he said.

"Why?" I asked, trying to remain calm as much as possible.

Truth be told. Paul's mother, the Reverend Mother, scares me. She’s a Bene Gesserit, she walks in the shadows. No one truly knows what goes on in her mind. All I know is there’s something strong about her presence, but something that felt forbidden and so wrong. She is beautiful as much as she’s dangerous.

In simple terms, I don’t trust her.

"Don't worry, she just wants to talk," he gave me a reassuring smile before leaving me in front of the Reverend Mother's tent.

After taking a deep breath I made my presence known by going inside. My eyes wandered all over the unique decor of the Reverend Mother’s tent until it settled on the middle where there’s a small table with two cups filled with some kind of tea.

“Hello little one,” a sultry voice whispered suddenly into my ear, breaking me out of my thoughts and making me turn to see the Reverend Mother invading my personal space so sensually from behind.

“Forgive me, I didn’t mean to startle you,” she continued with a chuckle.

“No need to ask for forgiveness, Reverend Mother. You didn’t” I lied, trying to remain calm as I felt my cheeks heat up from our proximity. “Paul said that you asked to see me.”

“I did,” Her eyes were on me, filled with intent that I failed to decipher. She brushed her fingertips across my shoulder, causing goosebumps to run along my skin before she motioned for me to sit on the carpeted ground right next to the small table.

After I complied she walked towards me and immediately joined me by sitting close to my side, our clothed thighs lightly brushing against each other.

“Have some tea, I have it specially prepared for us,” she said while gesturing for me to take it, there's a challenging glint in her eyes, daring me to refuse.

With no intention to displease my lover’s mother, I complied and took a little sip. The moment it met my tongue I was surprised to find it very cooling.

“This is good”

“Yes, simple but very soothing. But, you must drink deeply for the full effect,” she said with amusement dripping from her voice.

Without any second thoughts, I did what I was told, and the Reverend Mother seemed satisfied with this as I can see it in her smile. Soon I was holding an empty cup. I had drained it and yet, I’m still thirsty.

“Would you like some more?” she asked.

“Y-yes, If it’s not much of a bother, Reverend Mother,” I replied, self-consciously rubbing the fabric over my hips.

“Not at all, and please... Call me Jessica” she replied, her eyes glinting with something dark as she carefully replenished my cup.

 “As you wish, Jessica. May I know why I'm being summoned?” I breathed, my heart pounding in my chest as our gazes met before I took a generous sip from my drink. There was something undeniably alluring about her, something that both scared and excited me.

The weight of her eyes on me feels invasive like she could see through my cracks and discover all of my weaknesses. She’s watching me as if I’m her prey.

“You must understand, Y/N, I’m a determined woman. Whenever I have an agenda I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to achieve it. Whatever means necessary.” She muttered, leaning in close to my ear. Her warm breath sent shivers down my spine.

“Did Paul touch you yet?” Her tone was casual with her sudden question, but her eyes were anything but. 

“Wh-what?,” I stuttered, feeling my cheeks flush not believing what I was hearing right now.

“Have you given yourself to my son, sexually?” she leaned in closer to me.

“Uh, n-no,” I stammered, my body trembling like a leaf.

“Are you being truthful with me?” she purred, her fingertips ghosting lightly along my exposed neck. It was such a simple yet surprisingly intimate gesture that it made me feel like the tent suddenly caught fire from how hot it was.

I shakily nodded while she only looked at me with satisfaction.

“Have you taken his gift of water yet? Or yours to him?” she asked, scooting closer. Her smell was intoxicating and it made my head spin.

“N-no…not yet. He wants to wait until we are to be married.”

The Reverend Mother snickered under her breath and continued. “I raised that boy and taught him everything I know so he’ll rise and fulfill his destiny one day. But now, I’m starting to have second thoughts. It seems to me he’s just as weak as his father. A beautiful morsel such as yourself standing so willingly at the palm of his hand and yet he never thought about fully claiming you as his. So sure that you’ll stay right where you are. I guess he never thought about someone stealing you away. Such a huge mistake on his part but a blessing for me.” she said with a wicked grin, her delicate fingers tracing slow circles on my forearm as if she were teasing me.

But before I could respond, I noticed that the tent was becoming increasingly warm. Worse, I was finding my body uncomfortably warm. My face was becoming flushed and I was panting. My suit was becoming very confining. How odd, I thought. I grew up wearing this suit, but now I desire nothing more than to get them off.

My eyes landed on my now empty cup next to the Reverend Mother’s. That’s when I realized that she’d never touched her cup, not even a single drop.

She followed my gaze to her cup before catching mine. Slightly tilting her head, she then smiled knowingly.

“I-I need to leave” I croaked back, fear creeping into my bones as alarm bells started ringing in my head. 

But when I was about to stand up, I was immediately met with a sudden dizziness making me sit back down ungracefully.

It felt like my innards were being replaced by some kind of emptiness. I tried to stand again, desperate to leave the tent. I swayed just for a moment before the Reverend Mother caught me and pushed me down with my back against the carpet, a soft gasp of surprise leaving my lips.

She didn’t waste any time as she got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head in a tight grip, sharp nails digging against my skin but not breaking.

The Reverend Mother’s face was close to mine as she intently stared into my fear-filled eyes.

“Oh, no little girl. You’re not going anywhere,” she whispered above me.

Her face was blank from any emotion, but her eyes said it all.

“Did you poison me?” I whimpered. Her grip on my wrist tightened more than before, making me yelp in pain as she cut off the circulation of my blood.

“Of course not, I would never harm you without reason. Only to ensure your utmost obedience. The tea is for making you more pliant, not to kill.” she purred, leaning in close enough that our lips almost brushed. Her warm breath mingled with mine.

“What do y-you want from me?” I stammered, my voice barely audible.

She smiled maliciously at me before she started speaking.

“Isn’t it obvious, dear one? I want you.” one of her hands left my wrist and slowly traced my face with her fingers before she continued, “From the moment we met I already felt a certain pull towards you. I didn’t fully realize what it was until much later. Deep down I know you feel the same. That’s the reason why you went with Paul so that you could be closer to me.”

She’s starting to sound and look very much deranged. To my complete horror, she seems to believe her words to be true.

No…This can’t be happening. Paul… I’m with Paul!

I shook my head no but that was not what she was looking for. I yelped in pain from the sudden sting of her slap against my now-reddened cheek.

“Do not lie to me.” Her tone was assertive as she spoke every word.

“I’m not.” I cried weakly.

Another slap and tears started to run down my cheeks.

She leaned down and her warm wet tongue immediately tasted my despair with delight written all over her face. 

“I don’t like hurting you. But know that I will when I deem it necessary. So you better give me the answer that I want, little girl. Don’t test my patience. Try again.”

I only shook my head once more, refusing to back down. This made her chuckle

”Such a stubborn girl. I’ll enjoy breaking and reshaping you into my good little girl.” she whispered next to my ear.

Is she for real? My mouth fell open as I struggled to say anything. Suddenly I heard footsteps outside the tent.

“Mother, is Y/N still with you?”

Hearing Paul’s voice almost made me tear up with joy thinking that this would all come to an end. But when I looked at the Reverend Mother it seemed like I was dead wrong. Instead of seeing a look of panic, she gave me a wicked grin.

“She is… come inside, my son. I want to show you something.”

Paul entered the tent and suddenly froze where he stood when his eyes landed on us. The woman he sires pinned underneath his own mother’s body.

“Wh-what is going on here?” Paul asked as he looked at us confused.

“Paul, help me, please. Your mother has lost her mind” I pleaded as he went closer.

“Mother! Get off her ri–”

“SILENCE!” Paul’s words were cut off as I saw his mouth shut in command. His eyes were immediately filled with betrayal and hurt when he realized that his mother used the voice on him. But his mother did not care at all, “Kneel and do not move” she commanded his son once more.

I looked at her as if she lost her mind. Perhaps she did.

“Oh don’t look at me like that, little one. For it is you who made me this way” she leaned over and planted a kiss on my cheek. I tried to jerk away but couldn’t. The kiss practically seared my skin like molten lava.

She pulled a dagger from under her robes and then turned towards his son, a slave to her command.

“You know very well that I love you, Paul. But unfortunately for you, my love for Y/N weighs more heavy. I won’t let you have her. She is mine…only mine. And you will watch as I claim her.” her attention then went back to me as she sliced through my stillsuit and garments beneath it. I am now completely naked to her eyes. 

My head turned to Paul and saw the same panic set in his eyes. We were both sobbing and fearful of what was to come.

She laughed maliciously and roughly gripped my chin to look at her.

“Open your mouth” my breath hitched as I felt her voice crawl its way into my head. Not a second passed and my mouth opened.

“Take the gift of my water and you shall become one with me. Take it and you will be mine…forever.” she whispered before spitting into my mouth, “Swallow” she commanded before her lips descended against mine.

Her kiss was violent, forcing her tongue past my gritted teeth.

The tongue quickly found its way around my mouth and explored every inch. In parallel to that, her hands moved around and groped my breast. She slightly massaged them and pinched the erected nipples. It was not that the events aroused me. It was the cold that made my body like that. 

The kiss ended after a while, me being out of the air while the older woman was looking crazier than before. She licked her lips another time before stripping her garments away. She moved and kneeled in front of my face, her warmth being right on top of my face. "Pleasure me, little one." She commanded using the voice commanding voice and I immediately complied.

"Yes!" She started to move her body up and down, making her juice splash on my face. "Now, get that tongue of yours at work, beautiful girl," She ordered and once again tightened the grip, forcing me to obey her order. 

I had to stick my tongue forward, forced to have a taste of the older woman. It was sweet and I couldn't stop myself from moaning from the taste of her. She also moaned at the feeling of my tongue inside her and moved faster until she cummed in my mouth. 

Just as I was about to let go of a sigh, my left leg was lifted, Jessica’s right leg sliding under it. "It is not the end yet! I still have a lot of things I want to teach your body." She pushed her hip forward, making our center meet. 

I can't help but admit that it started to feel so good, so good that I failed to notice that I was no longer under the influence of the voice.

She repeated to thrush several more times, bringing our center together and making them part, and then collide again. She started to moan once again as I did the same, her hands starting to play with my breast, enjoying every contact through my body. Until my first orgasm was ripped from me this evening, followed by the beautiful temptress who laid on top of me while catching her breath from her release. 

She looked down at me in complete amusement as I lay helplessly underneath her. 

Jessica kissed the tip of my nose before sliding her warm body over me. She then began to touch me once more, and that was when I started to squirm a little. She moved her arms around my body, rubbing it in a very erotic way. "So beautiful! I can't help but masturbate thinking about you every day. And now, you are finally mine." She put a hand on my knee and began to gently stroke my leg.

Oh no... please no more...

"P--please... I can't. It's too much" 

I struggled as I tried to pull myself away from her, but my body is still weak from the drugged tea and pleasure.

"Shhhh... I know you can. Just give me one more, little one. I just need to taste you." 

She settled herself in between my legs, parting them by force. 

She reached between my legs and pushed something. It's her finger against my clit, causing my back to arch. "Oh!" I gasped, head falling back. "Oh, oh—" 

Jessica cupped my left breast and mouthed at it, kissing and licking. I didn't know where to look but into her eyes, trying my best not to follow the sound of a silently sobbing man. 

I'm not sure what possessed me at the moment but I was suddenly desperate to taste her lips. 

"Kiss me," I begged. "Please..." 

And she did. Soft and sweet, holding me to her. Tugging my lip with her teeth and stroking my back, my butt. She took hold of my legs, cupping the underside of my knees. Bringing my legs around her waist, she rocked against me, teasing my lip with her tongue. 

I parted my lips for her, tasting her, sighing... Jolting when she tugged on my nipple. "Oh, ow, owie—, please don't—" 

I cried out with pleasure. This was so nice; it felt so good. 

She smiled at me. “You’ve got the prettiest pussy I’ve ever seen, my beloved,” she said, reaching to touch me, pulling back the hood of my clit so she could rub me with her thumb. I shivered. “Look at this tiny clit. So fucking adorable, and all mine…” 

She proceeded to slide down my body until she was face to face with my dripping warmth. 

I gasped when she started to lick me and felt my stomach twitch, surprised and excited at Reverend Mother’s eagerness to please me. I felt her tongue trace the outline of my lower lips and shuddered. A moment later, the older woman finally slid her tongue over my clit, and that's when I felt my walls clenching in a sudden spasm, screaming in pure pleasure for the second time. Due to the intensity, I blacked out.

-_-_-

A groan left my lips when I woke up, my body deliciously sore. 

Slightly stretching, that's when I realized that I was not alone.

To my left, Paul stood looking down at me. Tears stained his cheeks, eyes full of hatred.

“P-paul… I–”

“Silence! I don’t need your excuse. You and I are over” Paul spits his words with so much anger that it hurts.

“But Paul, it was your mother’s doing… I didn’t wa–”

“SILENCE”

The command surprised me into shock. Having the Reverend Mother use the voice on me seems to hurt less than having Paul do the same thing.

“You will not speak ill of the Reverend Mother. For she is the mother of your people’s chosen and now… your intended... for you two are fully bonded as one”

Paul’s words confused me greatly. Why would he say such a thing after everything his mother did in front of him? But my thoughts were then silenced when I saw a pair of hands rest on his shoulders. The Reverend Mother’s face appeared next to his.

“That’s enough, my son. I think my beloved has heard enough. You may take your leave” she calmly whispered.

Paul did what his mother asked but not before sparing me one last glance and whispered under his breath… I’m sorry… and now completely leaving me alone with a predator hungry for my flesh.

“What have you done to him?! Did you use your voice?!” I yelled accusingly, but she only laughed at this before kneeling beside my vulnerable form.

“No, Paul is simply being a good son. I raised him well, he knows to never go against my will. I brought him into this world and gave him his birthright, he owes me as much.” She smiled devilishly.

She looked down at me with a predatory grin before slowly tilting my chin with her finger to meet her eyes. 

It was so dark and full of lust that it felt like I was about to drown in it. 

"So here's what will happen from now on, you better listen carefully because everything that is attached to your existence will be at play if I don't get what I want, understood?" I weakly nodded, no longer having the will to fight back. 

"Good girl" Jessica praised before caressing my cheek. 

"You will surrender yourself to me and in time I know that you will so willingly. The more you take the gift of my water, the stronger our bond grows. In the meantime, you will be my obedient darling girl. Whatever I say, goes. Understood?" Her grip on my chin tightened, emphasizing how serious she was. 

"Ye-yes" I stuttered through gritted teeth. 

"If you behave like a good little girl for me, I will reward you with anything you desire, but if you disobey... You will learn that I won't go easy on my punishment. Since that's all settled then, time to quench my thirst." 

"W-with what?" I fearfully asked. 

The Reverend Mother smiled at me before leaning in close, her lips almost touching mine. 

"You."

[hannibalsbaby]

Labor.

Pairing: Otto Hightower x OC!Daella Targaryen (younger sister to Rhaenyra Targaryen).

Warnings: Child marriage, violence, war, incest, murder, child death, torture, language, etc.

This is a snippet from a story I have on Wattpad, but haven't finished. This part isn't even in it, I just wanted to write something here. DO NOT repost to other sites without my permission. Please DO NOT read if you are uncomfortable with the topics above.

King's Landing was a prison – a prison that held Daella within, the only reason she didn't escape to her sister's side was her children. Aenys, Uthor, and Maelys – her sons, the youngest only three name-days old. Her paranoia was on high-alert after hearing Helaena constantly spill out prophetic words that always came true. Helaena's most recent was about rats – the look in her younger sisters eyes was something Daella would never forget. Daella Targaryen – daughter of King Viserys Targaryen, sister of Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen was no green dragon, she had to pretend to protect her sons from her deranged brothers. She knew that once her uncle and sister took King's Landing – her and her children would be safe, so she stayed within the vipers den.

Little Maelys Hightower, Daella Targaryen's youngest son, took his father's coloring as did Aenys and Uthor. Though, the young boy was a dragon through and through. The little boy stuck to his mother's dress nearly everyday, his eyes had the same spark in them as she did as a young girl. Daella would never admit, but he was her favorite, he was solely for her – his birth brought her out of a deep depression. He saved her, it was that simple. Daella was tucking in Maelys for the night like she had her other two boys, it was a normal routine until the feeling of cold metal met her throat.

"A son for a son."

The voice was inside of her ear, she could feel the stranger's breath on her face. The man was lowborn, she could tell from his smell. Another man joined them, she could tell by the heavy, careless footsteps. "Please," Daella whispered, her voice breaking – she knew who the culprit behind all of this was. Her uncle Prince Daemon Targaryen, she knew he wouldn't target her specifically – she also knew that you couldn't control mercenaries once they were out of grasp.

"A son for a son." The larger one added onto what the other had said. Blood was dripping from her neck, she could feel it as she was turned to face the larger man. She couldn't stop her lip from quivering at the burlap sack in his hand. At that moment she knew what was going to happen, her sister was right once again. The rats were the real danger within the castle.

A tear slipped down Daella's porcelain cheek, "My son, my son is not who you are looking for. I will show you to who you are looking for, just please – please don't hurt him," her voice was surprisingly strong as her mind was whirling. She felt sick to her stomach as she anticipated the response from one of the two men. As she waited, the larger one yanked her necklace off – pocketing it for himself.

"A son for a son, that's what he said. I'm sure this boy will do just fine," said the man whose dagger was digging into her neck by the second. A whimper left Daella's mouth as she squeezed her eyes closed, this was just a nightmare, she would wake up from it. Everything would be fine. Everything would be fine, it had to be. Not another word was spoken between the pair, the larger one just moved towards Maelys bed. The sharp edge pressed against her throat made her open her eyes, as she did a soundless scream would leave her mouth. The larger man had his hands within the small bed Daella's son slept in – a gurgling, crunching, and squelching noise was the only thing Daella could hear. Her eyes were focused as the man worked, chopping the head of her son off. Her legs finally gave out from under her, the smaller man let her go. The cold floor of the castle was a stark comparison to the fire that was within her body.

A scream finally left Daella's lips, it was blood curdling with an anguish only a mother could know. As she screamed her lungs out, the two men scrambled out of the nursery with a blood soaked sack in tow. Just as quickly as the men left, guards appeared with her husband, Alicent, Helaena, and unfortunately Aemond. Daella sat up on her knees, her face was wet with tears as well as spittle from her deranged screams. Her violet eyes finally met the others within the room.

"You. It was supposed to have been you." Daella's words were coarse, full of loathing as her bloodshot eyes locked onto the one-eyed prince. She would have her revenge on the kinslayer and she would have her revenge on the two men who killed her son. "My son is dead because of you, my sister's son is dead because of you – yet you go unpunished," she spat out at Aemond, her words full of venom yet her eyes held nothing but anguish. She was holding on by a thread, that much was obvious.

[illya-roma]

DP X DC PROMPT- (Fic that I'd totally probably might write)

Jason had learned from being a Robin to being Red Hood to expect a lot of things, from fighting the deranged to expecting the unexpected like daina (WONDER WOMAN!) being mind controlled.

But he never expected this.

He usually doesn't come here to begin, not after- after it happened, but he does each time whenever the pits wants to remind hims of what he could have lost. (What he lost, how it hurt hurt hurt. How HE hurt them. He knows that even if they forgive him, they'll never trust him again. The pit laughs from behind)

But tonight, in front of him sat someone?something? what appears to be a teenager from 14 to 16, with red hair that flickers similar to a flame and skin too pale and ears too pointy.

But it?she? sat on one of the headstone with her eyes glazed, too deep in her own thoughts.

A series of bubbles cut her off. She proceeded to put the baby (that seemed completely human) on her shoulder and allowed him to burb. Then cocooned him in blankets and hummed him to sleep.

Right now, he isn't red hood (or Robin). And his gun may not affect her, that is if the child belongs to someone else. (Did the parents give them to her? Or is she related? Have any alarms of a breakout occur that a meta? experiments? escape?).

(He sounds like Bruce.)

"A penny for your thoughts?"

The girl had her eyes on the child, with a small sad smile and flickers of flaming hair. "Just..."

"Just wondering what my grave would have looked like."

He sucked a breath.

"That ones yours...right?"

The girl (child ghost holy fuck!) nodded her head to his own grave. "Y-yeah...it's mine."

"It's beautiful... And well cleaned...They must've cared a lot, mister Jason."

He never thought about that. A well taken grave describes a caring family wouldn't it? (They do care! How is it still clean though?)

"Yeah...but uh...um...What's up with the..the baby?" Is the baby alive?

"Oh...Noone will take care of my baby boy... So.. I had to come back..."

She pushed back a few strands of black hair with tender eyes and the lightest touch. As if he where the most fragile crystle.

Jason could see himself in the child. All loved to the point his own mother would give up everything just for him. Except it was Bruce, it was Bruce that took him in and loved him. Standing beside his bed during nightmares when he cried and taking away the monsters. Sitting with Alfred, cooking together and exchanging stories.

(His family loved him. His family loves him.)

"Would you like to fly with me?"

Robin made me magic

He keeps wiping his face while she put the baby in a safer position. "We can have a brawl for fun after I put little Danny in his bed a-" she stopped mid scentence when looking at him

He sputtered. " Is something wrong?"

With fear in her eyes she floated, creating distance between both of them. She shaked her head in disbelief.

"You...you died..."

He took a step farther, not wanting to scare them away.

"But..b-but your... nononono why do you look like that?!"

He wanted to ask like what, but she disappeared before his eyes. (Did she know he wasn't safe? That he hurt his family?)

...

Beep

"Hey Jaylad, is the pit be-

"B-Bruce"

"Jason, what's wrong? Are yo- what happend?"

"I'm sorry, I'm s-so sorry, I'm sorry! Dad I'm sor-"

"I'm coming, hang in there."

"Little Wing what's wrong?"

"Todd, who hurt you? Who should I kill?"

"Jason, back ups close. Breath with me, alright!"

(His family loves him)

(The pits were silenced)

_______________________________________

In an alternative universe the Fenton are still driving around and setting up traps, unfortunately Jazz is the one who removes them and got caught.

Since jazz is the one that doesn't wear hazmats and dany is still a baby (she makes sure is far from their experiments with ectoplasm), she becomes a ghost who decides that she doesn't want Danny to get hurt and takes him somewhere near a lot of ectoplasm.

Gotham: sweet baby girl, little baby harley.

Let the drama begin.

Chapter 2

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

“A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY a wretched, wretched thing!”

Your mother repeated the phrase time and again, the redness in her eyes a reminder of the tears she had cried. Her face was full of wrinkles, as if she had just consumed a basket of sour oranges. Perhaps that is how the words felt on her lips, because despite being aimed at someone else—the ex-love of her life—they were also born out of her own painful experience.

“Listen to me carefully. They don't know what it means to love. Their hearts are barren, unable to take root and abide. Nothing can make them stay, my dear. Not for love, not for sex, for all your years of devotion to them, not even for their own flesh and blood!”

The woman's words may sound deranged, but her message is clear. Barren, has no ability to stay. Is this the reason why it was so easy for Daddy to walk away? Even when he walks by pictures on the wall, images of happier times—his wedding photo, your birth photo, your first day of school photo, the photo of you laughing over his shoulder—perhaps he doesn't even glance at them.

Society doesn't help either, because how is it all fair when the man can start somewhere new, as if he never had a daughter, and leave a woman behind whose love he could no longer return? He moves on to a new city, unburdened by the weight of his past mistakes. Meanwhile, the mother who stayed is scorned by the supposedly good neighbors for being a single mother.

“Why did you let man walk away?”

As if there was something to make him stay.

(Nothing can make a man stay.)

And so, precisely two weeks following your last encounter with Simon, you tried to stomach the absence of his face from the pub. Even if it's bitter and slightly sour—burning, the poison you chose.

Entering the subway car two seconds before the doors automatically closed, you hurriedly took a seat. Your phone screen shows nine o'clock – enough time to arrive on time. Raising your head to look straight, you just realized the presence of the lovebirds hanging their hands on the subway handle. Shy laughter with hints of sultry beneath could be heard amidst their whispered conversation.

Your eyes stay focused on the man's hand as it rests on the woman's waist before making a subtle path to continue moving downward. She pressed her head against his shoulder like a lover's nest; the noise her laughter once obscured now turned into soft moans as he proceeded lower and lower. His fingers were covered in plaster, covered in wounds and calluses.

Like a certain someone. However, deep down, even this man wasn't the first person to remind you of him today, or even just yesterday or the day before yesterday.

His fingers closed in a disguised squeeze. He slid it between her lush thighs, and yet it was you who pressed yours against each other as he rubbed three fingers against her stocking-clad flesh. She tried to stifle a moan—but, you heard it, saw how she gripped his shoulder tightly.

The sight was crude and improprietous, particularly in the company of the general public despite most of the passengers either snoozed quietly or were lost in their wired earbuds' music. Couldn't they have waited to at least get out of here and find a dark alley to do it?

Despite that, you couldn't take your eyes off the two. Like a pervert, or indeed you have become one. As she traces his ass and mirrors his action, you hold your breath; heart pounding.

Those work-worn fingers hike her skirt ever higher. What are they after? You still wonder. Is it the thrill of exhibitionism, or perhaps it is the urge to convey to the world and to the unfortunate souls witnessing their display of affection that their longing for one another is so powerful—so intense—that they simply cannot wait another minute to touch each other passionately?

The woman lets out a gasp that gives you an unwelcome shock as they proceed. Some other passengers cast curious glances in their direction, but the majority appear accustomed to the nearly indecent conduct.

Glancing around, you caught the eye of a man seated nearby in the chair across from you. Your cheeks heated, and you dropped your gaze. He must have seen it—your long, focused glare at the couple. Probably appeared as a truly envious woman or a hypocrite who judges others for their actions, while in reality, you would die for the same intimacy.

The world is old, and yet here you are, a young woman who has just lost her virginity, with no one to crave you the way the couple did. You don't know much, and you think that's what being in your twenties means—too naive to be an adult, too knowledgeable to be a child again. Everything is filled with dreams, until they transform into haunting ghosts. And when someone asks you about love, all you can say is that it is foreign – a privilege you were never granted.

When the stop is announced, you stand up in a hurry as the brakes squeal and doors slide open. Stepping onto the platform, you looked back at the couple through the dirty windows. You shook your head, focusing on each step up the stairs and making your way down the familiar streets to the opera house.

In the warm-up room, chatter and laughter filled the air as the ballerinas stretched and prepared. You took a place in the empty part of the barre. Stretching your muscles, you let the routine seep into your nerves.

The first piano key pressed represents an endless loop—the familiar strains of music for the White Swan pas de deux fill the studio as you and Jacob take their places as Odette and Siegfried. For more than two hours, the director bombarded the two of you with endless criticism, telling Jacob to be more "reluctant" to let you go, while it was the same old notes for you.

“Your Odette still looks bland! I want to see the doubt, the secret hope despite it all. Surprise us!”

Jacob spun you easily between his arms. You furrowed your brows stiffly in your attempt to instill an expression, but the director's shake of the head said it wasn't enough. He holds up a fist to stop the music.

The director stops in front of you and Jacob, the choreographer beside him. Hands on hips, he peers critically at your dancing partner.

“Hold her like this – like she is the most precious thing. He must be reluctant – he's found a girl he wants to marry. Savor the moment!” He put a strong hand on your waist to demonstrate to Jacob. “Feels how he clings to her, not wanting to let go just yet.”

Jacob let out a sigh. “Got it.”

As the director turns to face you, you suck in a sharp breath to brace yourself. He has lots of corrections for you—endless notes of your shortcomings, expectations not met. A tangled web of emotions knots in your stomach. You hope he can quickly spit it out, to be done and get this over with.

But to your surprise, he said nothing, only shaking his head with a frown. “Again from the top, Robert,” he calls to the pianist.

The room was filled again with the opening music of the pas de deux, pulling your head forcefully into focus and into Jacob's arms. However, as the dynamics swell, your heart beats faster. He definitely regrets it—his decision to choose you. You're sure after this, the balletmaster and the choreographers will pressure him to replace you if he hasn't already, saying they should've stuck with Mary or Claudine if they insist on a change. That will leave you as, once again, another dancer in the background.

Something burns inside your chest, yet the smoke can't seem to escape. Everything was securely shut, so nothing could enter, nor could the poison come out. You breathe in little by little, gasping for air as tears well up in your eyes.

He will replace you. He will replace you.

By the time the rehearsal is finished, you proceed to your private coaching. Standing in front of the mirrored wall, you watched carefully as the coach moved her elegant arms in a slow curve in the air.

“Like that. Just let your movement flow from the core of your body outward," she instructed gently.

You imitated her fluid movements, trying to imagine the graceful lines of wings and feathers. Your brows furrowed in concentration.

The coach shook her head. “No, you have to relax, my darling. Release that tension – swans move easily and freely. Don't set points on your movement, let it move past you.”

Trying again, you took a breath and softened your movements. More naturally, your arms rise and arch. Like a swan, like a swan. You lift higher, curving more and trailing an imperceptible wind.

“Yes! Just like that!” The coach walks around you. “Though, I'm sure you can do better. Go out and observe some swans, watch how they move.”

“And observe lovers as well while you’re at it.”

From the new voice joining in, you turned and saw the director. Crossing his arms, he took a step towards you. Your coach let out a small laugh as she scribbled something in her small notebook.

“Now Henri, don’t be a jerk. Leave the poor girl alone.” She chides.

The director stops in front of you, laying a gentle hand on your shoulder. He stared at you, eyes scanning what felt like every flaw that his experienced observation could find. You held your breath waiting.

"You're gifted; never make mistakes. Ballet, however, is much more than just dancing.” He pauses, and you almost think he's contemplating whether to keep it gentle or come out with the harsh truth. “Your performance lacks heart and it frustrates me because I see talent, but there's no soul. Tell me – have you ever been in love?”

You hesitate, then say softly, “Once in high school.”

Henri scoffs loudly. “That is not love, that’s puppy love. I mean the real thing – the kind of love that makes you feel like a complete idiot, that twists your insides and leaves your heart in tatters!”

The kind you were warned about long ago.

But why was Henri, unlike her, talking with such enthusiasm about that? With determination, as if he hadn't just said clearly that it was torture—a slow poisoning, a self-inflicted wound that never fully heals. What kind of person, in their right mind, advocates for another to dive into such peril?

Or perhaps that's the key. Perhaps, as artists, their blood was shed to be inscribed into art. Old ways made immortal. After all, what's life without tragedy? Without the perfection of the tragedy?

A chuckle from your coach snapped you back to reality. “Well, he's right. Better to have loved and lost than to never love at all, right?” she turned to you with a gentle smile, closing her notebook with a soft snap before putting it in her bag. “Now go home and rest that busy mind. We'll continue again tomorrow.”

With a final squeeze, your coach walked away after Henri; the two engaged in a new, vague conversation that carried outside the room. Their voices fade, leaving you alone. Dust grains danced under the lighting. You stared straight at your reflection.

As you gather your belongings, your feet drag reluctantly. You walked over and turned off the lights, then made your way to the door. For the last time tonight, you look again in the mirror—a silhouette created from the darkness of the room meeting the light of the quiet hallway. You pulled the door knob and locked the heavy doors before returning to the old streets of London.

“It’s better to have loved and lost than never to love at all.”

Mother would disagree.

That woman walks across the earth stumbling, her feet heavy from the ball and chain that shackle her feet—the restraining device is all her anger, and all her anger was once love. If someone said that to her face, you could imagine her lips pulling into a frown before they parted and spat out curses. “Foolish little girl,” she would say. You never truly love until you pray on your knees to stop loving.

Mother would disagree, that's for sure. But you?

Henri was right about your high school crush being puppy love. Upon further reflection, it might have been admiration or even a lie. Teenage girls are always desperate to look like they know a thing or two about love, to enter a room holding hands with someone, and to be the talk of the week. It doesn't make you stupid, but it certainly helps you fit in. It was probably why your mother never reacted much when she was found out—because she knows it will pass quite quickly.

You're not your mother, are you? Nor her warnings. Not that a man's heart is truly a wretched, wretched thing! bullshit that she always repeats. Not that fragile woman whose view of the world changed after her own romance turned sour. Surely, it wasn't all that horrible? After all, people fall so deeply in love that they decide to marry, to be in a lifetime commitment. People fall so deeply in love that they make little humans as a testimony of their union.

(A girl never learns.)

And you are nothing if not obsessive, full of determination. You want everything – perfection—the first step is to bring Odette to life. If it's true what Henri said, then you will do it. Fall in love.

(A girl never learns.)

Yet, here you are. A month has passed since you made up your mind on your little quest. Despite the vastness of London, people are too focused on their own issues, and chatting with strangers brings more harm than unexpected (or, in your case, expected) romance. By day, the city bustles, but at night, it's the drunken men who crowd the sidewalks with their unnapealing false flattery and alcohol-infused breath.

Tonight, as you exit the grand doors of the opera building, you are greeted by a drizzle. Mist rises from the rain-soaked pavement, droplets bounce off cobblestones and roofs. The chill air bites past your thin coat, making you sneeze.

“Damn this weather.” You grumbled.

A dull ache has made a home behind your eyes. Changing seasons and busy schedules are really a good combo for lowering the body's immunity. You sighed trying to ignore the fever burning your skin.

Too lost in dreamy thoughts, you stride across the street without looking. Blinding headlights beam at you with a blaring horn—and you freeze. Heart in your throat, you close your eyes bracing for the impact.

Someone pulled you back just in time. The car slowed down for the driver to roll down the window and yell a string of curses before speeding off again. Your pulse starts to slow, head spinning trying to process what just happened.

“Christ, pay attention will ya?”

At the deep voice, your brain nearly shorts out. You whirl around so fast that your vision swims, and you find yourself looking up into a pair of brown eyes that you would recognize anywhere. Tall, broad shoulders, blonde eyelashes, and that leather jacket he always wears.

“Simon?”

After almost two months of his absence, this ghost of a man stands in front of you. Simon. Your heartbeat picks up again, this time with questions swirling around your hazy mind.

It is our custom to always look for something. To dig meaning in the meaningless. To hope for worth in the worthless. To search for deeper design. To take the warning as a good omen. To mistook tragedies as blessings in disguise.

(Being human, is it beautiful or tragic?)

@strawberrygato

SUPPORT ME THROUGH KO-FI! CHECK MY WRITING COMMISSION. SHARE YOUR THOUGHTS HERE.

[qsmpbutwithsignlanguage]

TIFU (today I fudged up)

I (male, immortal) am a demon, trapped on an island in the middle of nowhere with a short Mexican man (male, 23) that hasn't taken off his beanie once since I met him and a small British gremlin (male, 20) that has murdered multiple people with a chainsaw. The British gremlin (who I will call T) has been taking care of his adoptive sister's (female, early 20s, I'll call her B) adoptive daughter (female, five) who I will call E. Now, E is a very sweet young girl who T would wholeheartedly die for ten times over. E also has five mothers. I have met most of E's mothers in the past, however some of them I haven't had much of a chance to talk to one on one.

I often help T to take care of some of the younger kids on the island, and on this occasion I offered to help supervise a sleepover. Today, one of E's mothers came to pick her up after she slept over a T's house. Now, normally B comes to pick E up, or another one of E's mothers. However, today a woman who I'll call I.M. came for E.

Now, as previously stated, I am a demon. Demons have a type of hierarchy, and while I'd say I rank fairly high up, there are most certainly demons above me. I.M. is known to be a high-ranking demon on this island, however I didn't realize just how high-ranking she was.

When she came to pick up E, she arrived outside the house and waited for a couple minutes after knocking. T, who was still half asleep (he doesn't get much sleep), E, and T's daughter S, who were both actually asleep scrambled to compose themselves and get E's stuff so she could leave. T quickly stumbled out of his house sleep deprived and ranting about white bears and, as I quote, "Deranged, lobotomized, taxidermized ducks with every feather on their idiotic backs plucked.", E in one hand, S in the other, and the most hideous outfit I have ever seen someone wear. And I lived with multiple colorblind people for three years straight.

As it turns out, which I realized to my absolute horror, I.M. was in fact the queen of Hell. Her first impression of me was while T was still in his ex's underwear, raging about a divorce and dead ducks, his daughter asking I.M. for more money, and E talking about how she wanted to put oil grease on pancakes instead of syrup, because, "Mr. T said it makes them taste better."

And I stood there doing nothing.

[matan4il]

911 ep 709 first watch reactions

The way this ep starts with giving us a clear shot focused on the front, solely on Buck sitting between the man he's dating and the man he's been married to for the past six years, and only on them. XD I'm here for it.

Oh, Bobby. :( Feeling unworthy of his medal, and remembering his dad, and how everything went wrong after he got it. </3

Aaaah. Man, IDK. The openly and explicitly homophobic and racist captain cartoon just feels like an easy target now. Prejudice doesn't seem like it mostly gets expressed that way anymore, and when we only teach people to reject that kind, we not only fail to teach them to recognize subtler forms, we may be misleading them to think those more nuanced ones don't count.

Love Athena trying to "save" Bobby by contacting Amir. I'm always a sucker for a couple where they both save each other.

I enjoyed the little play with "Mother Hen," and I know it's not specifically about Buddie, but it is damn funny that when she's told she's raising more kids, they're the ones the camera focuses on. lol Raising a kid together for 6 years, still a couple of morons in desperate need of parenting from their colleagues. Even when Bobby's "wordless goodbye" moment with Buck is letting him cook for the 118, Eddie's by his side and they're doing it together. I swear, 911 said, "Take note, this is what a marriage looks like" and then just kept hammering the point for 6 seasons now.

Okay, I am pretty sure that, while Bobby's acceptance of Buck's first relationship with a guy, is really lovely, "Because we haven't had to talk about it" is not an actual good criterion for discerning whether someone is good for their partner or not. People whose spouses are abusive don't talk about it, either. :/ I am NOT saying that's Buck and Tommy, because it obviously isn't, it just feels like a line thrown in there to be cutesy, but which isn't actually helpful to people, who might take it too seriously.

I AM GONNA LOL FOREVER. So, just like Buck's bi awakening was all about Eddie, now Eddie's messed up whatever he has with Kim is gonna involve Buck, too? Gotcha. Battlefield boyfriends being off-battlefield boyfriends once more.

So... Buck was going to see Tommy, in an ep where TPTB have already paid for Lou in the role, so might as well use him as much as possible, but instead a non-emergency run in with Eddie's current whatever-Kim-is makes Buck ditch Tommy, and run straight over to Eddie's to help him? Look, I'm obviously a One True Pairing kind of shipper, so Buddie are it for me, as much as I can enjoy and see the value of Buck and Tommy as a stepping stone, and nothing will make me stop shipping Buddie (especially not after the tsunami eps), but 911 is feeding me way too well with how it frames these scenes and stories, I don't think the show's trying to get me to stop.

Man, if anyone's ever had a doubt that Eddie is the world champion at denial, this kitchen scene will def cure that.

"I'm worried about you." "Yeah, I'm worried about me, too." And then Buck, the one person who can ALWAYS penetrate through Eddie's denial wall, no matter how thick it is.

Eh, IDK how much the part where they try to re-define Shannon as the love of Eddie's life works, or how much it just serves to show he's still in denial, just a different kind than before, when Buck got through to him that he can't go on like this with Kim. For one thing, in his little retelling of their dysfunctional r/s, Eddie doesn't mention that Shannon was leaving him a second time, even before she died. Literal denial and repression.

So I'm gonna choose to believe Hen and Karen will get Mara back, because I can't deal with that particular storyline otherwise.

Kim's reaction is too deranged for me. Who does something like that, even if we assume the kindest of intentions? And then Marisol and Christopher's timing... I didn't sign on to watch a soap opera, but I guess I'm getting one free of charge?

"Now you gotta save yourself." If that ain't a painful summary of what growing up means, IDK what is. the conversation with Bobby's dad in his sleep was a good, painful scene, built right, leading to him hopefully getting his closure through saving his wife from a fire, and leaving us with just the right amount of suspension for next week and the season finale, where we'll see if he can let go of his past mistakes without a doppelganger dressing up like his dead wife...

Thank you for reading! If you’re looking for more, you can find my s7 reactions tag here, and more of my Buddie meta and content in my pinned post. xoxox

[thegamingcatmom]

If mother miranda were on the hunt, say before she kidnaps takes away MC

Like, I know she has crows she can use to keep an eye on MC, but if she were to hunt MC down in person, would she be the type to openly just stand there and stare down her prey or would she lurk behind buildings peeking around the corner once she sees MC being like "yes that one, she's perfect"

I just can't get the image of miri lurking from behind a building for some reason

MC getting chills like she feels her eyes on her

I´m absolutely loving your thoughts. 😈

The mental image of Miranda peeking at you around a corner like-

…💀

LISTEN-

As much as I love that thought (and I fucking do, u have no idea), I actually don't think Miranda would ever hide her presence if someone caught her eye. At least not purposely. It's more like she doesn't really care if MC sees her, given how that girl's fate has been sealed the moment Miranda clapped eyes on her anyway, lmao.

Miranda's looking at something that's already hers, so why hide? It won't change a thing.

Besides, hiding is beneath her.

I also think she'd want MC to know, y'know? She wants her to know she's being watched, observed, guarded. She wants her to know she's taken. It's like putting a big fat stamp reading "RESERVED" on her forehead, lol.

So, no, Miranda will not hide because she's a confident woman who will not hesitate to demonstrate her claim interest in the most unhinged way she can possibly manage.

IN OTHER WORDS:

She´s flirting.

...

Meanwhile MC, who´s only just noticed her stalker admirer:

... 💀

Listen though-

If someone else is watching? Nuh-uh. Nope. Miranda´s gone SO damn fast cause like hell will she allow just any pair of eyes to feast on everything that is her. Divinity itself.

...She might also do it just to mess with MC´s head a lot bit.

MC to some passerby, finally reaching her breaking point after she´s had to endure multiple such encounters that day: "You saw that too, right?? The winged woman?? Turning into a bunch of crows?? TELL ME YOU SAW HER."

Some passerby: 💀💧

Crow!Miranda, chilling on some branch: *cackles in crow*

Oh and, btw:

"yes that one, she's perfect"

That´s still her thought process, whether she´s hiding or not, lol.

Also, one of my fav lines of her:

"And I must have her."

That´s literally what she says to Ethan when she first shows herself to him and I absolutely LOVE how deranged she sounds. 😭

.

.

.

Thanks a lot for your ask! 💋

[moodymisty]

(This isn't a request, just some Konrad daydreams driven by 4am insomnia that had me screeching and I just have to share with someone while I wait for my meds to kick in!!)

Your recent post about the stinky rat man got me thinking of something truly, hilariously awful: Konrad's favorite meow meow is a PERPETUAL.

Maybe he watches her die. Maybe he accidentally kills her himself. Whatever happens, he'd probably be losing. his. fucking. mind.

..And then she comes back. Oh god, I'm loving imagining at how truly deranged he would be over that. I know he tortures Vulkan SUPER HARD after finding out he's a perpetual, but that seemed driven a lot by "You think you're good and noble(and sane)? I'll drag you down to my level."

I wonder if he'd mistake her as some kind of phantom/delusion brought on by grief and madness at first. Extra comedy: he accidentally(purposely?) kills her again while freaking out over her showing back up alive LMAO. Meow meow can't catch a fuckin' break with this man.

Now I'm wondering how a few other primarchs would react to something similar though

Sanguinius and his sons in mourning and his dead wife just shows back up like "Why did you bury me alive?!" completely unaware she DIED.

Perturabo's shitass sons being like "I told you it was a waste of time!" and then the horror of realizing they didn't escape their step-mom after all.

I'd assume all the primarchs would try to find out what the fuck happened, and maybe go to Malcador for information once they start drawing blanks? Idk.

Fulgrim would so cute, just hyped as fuck. "I have a wife? That won't get old and die before me?? I don't have to lose this one???" Bonus points if she's the last one he was going to marry because he got too heartbroken seeing his wives get old and die over and over 😫 the queen and her corgis vibe forreal

I can't really figure out Mortarion even though he's one of my faves. On one hand, WITCH!! On the other hand,he'd be so relieved the One Good Thing in his life isn't actually gone forevet..

Oh my g o d. Lorgar. Thefucking goddess shit would go CRAZY. Kor Phaeron slamming his head against a wall because he thought he finally WON. HOW DID SHE DO THAT? Some of his followers getting spooked about being rid of her because s u r e l y it was the Powers who orchestrated such a miracle... So maybe she is meant to be here? Uh oh.

Guilliman is another one I'm just like ????. All I can think of, is he'd quietly go find Emps/Malcador and be like "whattheFUCK? explain?please?how?"

It might be because I'm heavily sedated but it's all sO funny to think about. Some legions quietly rejoicing because The Distraction is gone and shejust. Comes back 😭

But can you imagine the parties thrown by the ones who really loved their legion mothers?! And you thought theFUNERAL was extravagant..

Im not sure what time it is there but I hope you slept well and have a good morning! Sorry forcthis stream of consciousness garbage by theway LOL but you always have such cool takes on things I couldnt help muself

This a joy to read friend, I have nothing to add.

Lorgar in particular with a perpetual beloved would be fucking INSANE. His whole religious trauma would be going wild as well as even some of the more apprehensive Word Bearers might be a bit more, respectful.

Imaging Vulkan's wife ends up coming back a few weeks after they desperately mourned her loss, and it's time for the galaxy's largest hug. They form a line.

[magical-girl-coral]

Canonical evidence of every Fear and Hunger S ending in the Termina

Happy Ending

Cahara's sword in "Happy Ending" is the Sabbath sword you can find at the church. While it was said it was developed by Vatican city in the 1700s, this is also the same city that secretly did human experiences on innocent people to get closer to the old gods so chances are they were lying about this too.

If I had to guess, Cahara used his massive wealth to create weapons against creatures of the night and some of them somehow ended up in the hands of Vatican knights. Maybe one of his family members decided to start their own knighthood against monster and it massively backfired.

The true God of Fear and Hunger

While originally I was on the fence on this one thanks to ending C II, the Kaiser's flesh form was what sold me. That, and the fact that he mentions in his monologue before you fight him how he roamed the earth while out of his mind fits perfectly with Le'grade's derangement after D'arce resurrects him.

The only thing I'm bothered with is how D'arce doesn't have any hints of her existence in Termina. You'd think she'd get at least one name drop if she was the one who brought the Kaiser back from the dead.

The Enlightenment

The ending I'm the happiest is the most canon has got be Enki's just because of the lore drops we get from his skin bibles. It's interesting to note that Enki knew the God of Fear and Hunger was originally a nameless girl and that she was already a demi god thanks to her mother.

It also said that "[The God of Fear and Hunger] was the pure representation of fear and hunger, not spoiled by even a glimmer of hope", which is odd cause the player can and should bring the girl her doll and knife to make her more useful in battle and to make her feel lighter with the situation at hand.

It makes me wonder who brought the girl down to the depths if they made it obvious she was never getting out.

God of Ultra Violence

It's pretty much an open secret now that August is a descendant of Ragnvaldr thanks the cannibalism trait in his soul tree, his friendship with moonless and how the only contestant he truly open ups to is Abella, the only other person from Oldegård. I didn't even notice until I wrote this post that they both even have the exact same hair in their profiles.

It's also nice to know Le'grade is still getting his ass handed to him by a guy who not only got to get the title of a god before him, but also by the clan he build after he escaped the dungeons. Truly a massive L. We love to see it ❤.

[cafiffle]

ok it's time to be cringe on main (like I ever wasn't)

in honor of the new game finally maybe happening, here is a collection of the Dragon Age OCs I've developed over the last decade or so. only two of them were my actual video game protags and have evolved a lot from there, SEE IF YOU CAN GUESS WHO (or don't, I'm not your dad)

(L to R, top to bottom)

Sina, Keeper's First of Clan Dahlasanor and baby lesbian who had to leave her clan in search of healing for the anime wasting sickness that claimed her life in her early twenties. She was all about that good good Dalish nature magic and thought of it as a sort of healing. A gentle soul with strong convictions, she spent her last months securing the union of her (small, decimated) clan with a larger, thriving one by marrying their male First.

Cade Harimann of Starkhaven, the second son of a noble family who gave him to the Chantry at a young age. He endured Some Bullshit at the monastery, leaving him already somewhat unhinged before he served in Kirkwall prior to the Mage-Templar war. He was kicked out of the Templars "for his own good" due to his massive PTSD-induced emotional problems, and now lives in the woods with his chill elf gf who doms him when he needs it.

Teren von Skraedder*, from a po-dunk town on the border of Nevarra and Orlais, is every bit the Grey Warden stereotype: a liar, a convict, and just generally kind of an asshole. She was recruited in her early 40's as an alternative to being executed for treason against the Nevarran crown, and has settled into Wardening over the last twenty or so years. She loves her younger siblings-in-arms, even if she's mean to them, and she gets a little more deranged every time one of them gets their Calling or dies in combat while she continues to grow older.

Benedict Quintus Artemaeus is an Altus mage from Minrathous who preferred to spend his days getting high and fooling around with other rich boys, shirking his studies and the politics of his Magister mother, nearly into his twenties. He finally had to get serious when his tutor aligned with the Venatori and got them both captured by The Enemy (the canon good guys), leading to a rocky but gradual ascent from hedonistic fuckup to Sort of Competent Guy Who Cares Occasionally. he's been compared to Emperor Kuzco and that's not inaccurate ok

Josephine "Fifi" Mariette* is a regular ol elf from Val Royeaux who, after failing to make it in the city ballet/opera/ye olde whatever, made her way as a cabaret dancer and prostitute until her marriage to a human accountant, Jacques. His family never accepted her, so when he was drafted and killed in the War of the Lions, she left town to briefly join the Freemen of the Dales. Finding that she was as invisible there as anywhere else, she opted to put her status to use and become a spy for (and on) the Good Guys while working as their housekeeper.

Obeisance "Just Barrow Please" Barrow*, a farmer's son from Crestwood, went off to join the Templar Order as a means of finding adventure, leaving home, and making his extremely religious parents happy without having to take over the farm. He served in the Jainen Circle for many years without incident, but very casually deserted when the Mage-Templar war began (hit da bricks, just walk out etc). He spent some time afterward as a mercenary, and his MO is to bop around being helpful where he can while also absolutely never talking about what he used to do. it's none of your business

*if you think you know her/him from somewhere else: you do, I recycle these shitheads constantly

there have been a few more but they didn't Take in the same way, so just these for now. ok byyyeee

[snowblack-charcoalwhite]

It seems that Vhagar is the only living, breathing creature that still cares about Aemond. His sister is apathetic at the prospect of his death, his mother sold him and his brother to Rhae Rhae knowing that it's was death sentence, he probably will never interact with Daeron, and I'm pretty sure that Alys will work against him. As far as I'm concerned, he should just take the granny and give her the best time of her life, inflict as much damage to the blacks as possible and then die, but not before forcing the morally grey™ Rogue prince to do the same.

And it's crazy, but they managed to get me, once a staunch Alicent supporter, to scroll through anti Alicent Hightower tag and just agree with almost everything. Her character assassination was appalling, not only the book Alicent would never, but ep 1-8 Alicent would never. I wish I could erase this horrendous season from my memory. Idk if you've read what Hess said, but according to her, Alicent in the scene at Dragonstone with Rhaenyra realised that she never really sacrificed anything and that's why she agrees to sacrifice her son(s) for "peace". Also, she claims that the writers' intention was to make the audience believe how everything is finally going to be alright because these two women are friends and will work it though, but then *gasp* we see Aegon leaving in the cart and we realize that the war is still going to happen because Rhaenyra will think that Alicent deceived her!!. She must be proud of herself. I can't believe how vile and deranged these writers and showrunners sound (and maybe even are).

Hello!

I lost count how many times I read these words (or even wrote them myself) in the span of the last week but this show is an absolute mess. And it's not just about the stupidest bias, the quality of the script or the lack of subtlety with which the writers are shoving their views on the characters' relationships down our throats. It's also the fact that every person involved in the creative process has theit own view on what's going on - and sometimes these views are diametrically opposed. Take Olivia saying that in her mind Alicent wanted to spit in Rhaenyra's face when she asked her to give Aegon up but mentioning she doesn't know how the material was edited yet - and the writers going all "Oh, she is liberated now! She is atoning for her sins!" (which sins exactly, by the way?). In what world is this situation okay? The actors are barely hiding their dissatisfaction about the plot - and the writers just keep doing their thing which is talking absolute nonsense. Stellar project, well done, HBO.

I am still in the "don't hate the characters, hate the writers" mindset (and have no plans to change it) - but did the writers do Alicent dirty. They dehumanized Aemond the most - but Alicent drew maximum humiliation card. Self flagellation in front of the woman who is an active threat to her children's (and to her own life)? Selling said children (at least her sons) to said woman? Amazing character development.

And as for Aemond, I have the feeling that Vhagar will be his only friend and ally as well (unless the writers turn their own story on its head and have Alys fall head over hills in love with him or something like that). At least, hopefully, he will have nothing to do with Helaena's death (I am pretty sure they will make it the fault of someone from TG - B&C wasn't made into a joke for nothing after all).

This show has become so draining recently, istg.

[sunjaesol]

soljae | one shot, established relationship, fluff | prompt: symbolism

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

Anyone looking in on the outside would assume that Sol was some gold digger that somehow successfully seduced Sunjae and was now leeching off him for his money.

Which was a fair assumption. She was an unknown woman suddenly dating one of the biggest tv starts of the moment. He lived in a fancy apartment in Downtown Seoul with a bank account that he didn't need to look at every day to ensure he could afford the almond milk in his latte.

Obviously, anyone that knew her, that knew them, would know that was false. She wasn't a gold digger. She loved him earnestly and deeply. And he did as well.

But... she loved the attacked private park to the apartment building. After six pm, the gates closed and it was just for its residents. Sol loved strolling around right after dinner. It was a small luxury, but one they'd have to rip out her dead hands.

Or, you know, if Sunjae ever got sick of her, she'd convince him to let her roam around the park at night... like some dog, or whatever.

Fortunately, Sunjae loved her a lot. And so, they took a stroll together. The curry they'd ordered in had been quite heavy, so this walk helped with digestion.

With their hands clasped together, Sunjae and Sol enjoyed the evening air. Sol leaned into his side. The softness of his winter coat against her cheek made her feel happy and snuggly and silly. As a kid, she imagined being thirty-two and serious and stern, but right now she felt like giggling into her boyfriend's arm.

"I didn't know you were a cat," he observed.

"I love your coat," she said. "It's so soft."

"You want me to wear it to bed?" he joked. "Maybe you'll cuddle with me again."

Her jaw fell slack with indignation. "Hey! I cuddle with you! But when it's actually time to sleep, I want a cold pillow and space to stretch my legs."

Sunjae chuckled. "Because there's no space in the bed for you, my giant girlfriend."

Letting out a teasing scoff in response, she swatted his chest. "Ya..."

"I'm trying to say that I want more cuddles," he said, as seriously as when he spoke with his management. "It'll extend my life span."

Her eyes narrowed. "Don't joke about that. You died four times over, remember?"

His smile faltered alongside his stride. They came to a halt. It didn't mean to came out so harshly, but such 'jokes' distressed her a little. Joking about all the timelines that they've lost each other... it was an uncomfortable truth that they had to live with. That they were forced to remember.

He squeezed her hand. "I'm sorry, Sol. I wasn't being serious."

Sol nodded. "I know. It's okay. And I'll give you more cuddles."

A smile ticked up his lips, wry and imperfect, and his eyes crinkled with tenderness. "Only if you feel like it, babe."

"What if I never feel like it?" she challenged.

His brow quirked. "Then we wouldn't be soulmates." What a matter-of-fact way of him to say such momentous words.

She let out a huff, annoyed at the smooth utter, and crossed her arms. "Soul... soulmates... pfff..."

"Sol-ah..." he grinned.

She started their walk again, a quicker pace this time. He easily caught up. "Don't say such things in front of my mother. She'll call you deranged."

He kept grinning—giggling—clearly endeared by her frustration. Which only irritated her more. Why did he have to be so himself? Why did he have to be so... so...

Snatching her hand, Sunjae pulled her in and swept down to her level. He blinked innocently. "But I am deranged," he muttered, "so do you want me to lie?"

Her eyes widened, the flush on her cheeks reddening. "Since when?"

"Since I'm crazy about you." Warm fingers trailed the side of her face. "Since it rained fifteen years ago."

When she smiled at his words, Sunjae kissed her. Melting into his tender touch, she placed her freezing hands on his shoulders, gripping onto the knit scarf.

Sunjae never left it one kiss. Dizzying, the feeling of being kissed and kissed by Ryu Sunjae—how one hand always fell to the small of her back to press her as close as possible. His mouth opening by the second kiss, grazing his tongue just so against hers.

A third kiss. A fourth kiss. A fifth.

And then a snow flake fell on her cheek.

Jerking back at the sudden sprinkling, Sol looked up and watched in awe as snow flakes slowly descended down. It was like someone threw a million white feathers from the top of a skyscraper.

A laugh left her lips. "Oh... I didn't think it would snow today..."

Sunjae reached up and a snow flake fell on his palm. His eyes were drawn back to her, something indescribable flickering in his look.

Somehow, Sol understood.

In many different universes, they met in the snow. On a bridge, at a crosswalk, at school, their old street, a river, a parking lot. Most universes they'd never discover. But they remembered the ones that mattered.

Sol smiled. "I don't need an umbrella."

Sunjae placed a kiss on her forehead in response. "Me neither."

As snow began to fall in thicker sheets, the couple finished their lap around the park and went back inside the apartment building. They got to their apartment, hung up their wet jackets—a blue and yellow umbrella stacked underneath the coat rack—and crawled onto the couch to cuddle.

Sunjae and his damned cuddles.

[liannelara-dracula]

Hi love,

Thanks for asking this so obviously this pertains to the S bros so that’s where I’m sticking w this. Not including Kino bc he’s not really involved in this whole S bride thing anyway.

-Liannelara

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Prompt

Requests are open

Rules

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Who is capable of falling in love with their S bride? (MTL) + how much they value their S bride?

Subaru—He’s very vulnerable and he’s with this woman 24/7 and if she’s nice to him/gives him attention he’s roped in. But would never admit it. It might just be puppy love even but he’d end up liking her weather or not he does anything about it.

Value: he’d value her if she was tolerable and likable in the sense that she didn’t bother him. If she was gentle He’d especially value that. On a scale of 1-10 it’s have to be a 6.

Reiji—this may come as a shock because he is very head strong and a perfectionist but he his capable and we see this in the game routes numerous times. Even if Reiji has a different way of expressing his care or love, when he loves he treats his partner very well. And it takes a while for him to gain feelings but it’s through all the trouble and pain that he’s caused you but it’s mostly through getting to know you emotionally that he is able to love. But feels quiet guilty.

Value: 8 or 9/10, if you bare his kids, your a respectable lady and you got it all down he’s appreciative that you’ve brought his kids into the world but what doesn’t give you 10/10 is that he’d doesn’t value nor care for you as a partner. He may see you as his wife and mother of his child but not as a romantic partner. If you don’t have redeeming qualities you are just worthless to him. 3/10 or lower.

Shu—gosh, he seems like he could but also might not. Either way he’s lazy about it. In the game routes he is seen to fall in love sometimes but I think it’s quiet dry. There’s not much to it and he doesn’t seem all that into it. He’s just there and it’s comfortable to him. I would say it’s a practical convient love not a deep love unlike Reiji.

Value: 5/10 not too bad because it’s free s3x. He is annoyed but also amused at the same time. Not interested to know much and doesn’t know half of what you do bc he’s doesn’t care. If you don’t bug him often you get the 5/10 you won’t get more because he wants little do with you and since your not annoying there’s a flip side to it.

Kanato—he loves women, and that can mean many different things. But as deranged he may be he isn’t as complicated as his other two brothers, well may be just as complicated—but differently! Though if it’s about love this changed his behavior and he may drop the psychotic behavior altogether especially if there was character development but it’s hard to say. But he seems like he’d have feelings even if they are not the healthiest, he’s more capable of loving and liking than the other two.

Value: you could have 0/10 where he’s just going to m*rder you. Or you could have 11/10 were he is opposed and will not give you to others and protects you at all costs. There is no inbetween.

Laito—he’s to damaged to be capable of understanding his feelings. So while he may feel something he can’t distinguish it nor how he feels about it. All he knows is that it’s different and he’s not going to go further than that. I also believe he has a lot of trust issues with women so loving one is just not practical needless to say he’s a damn mess.

Value: 3/10 if not 0/10. You are like every other woman, why should you be different? Amuse him but also don’t get involved and he won’t be mad, but it doesn’t mean he likes not trust you at all so 3/10. You are merely convenience.

Ayato—he doesn’t really love and I got to say if he did he’s not sure what is going on. He’s quiet selfish and might confusion attraction and convince as love. In fact, he thinks that his S bride loves him so therefore he has a mutal feeling of love for her. He’s okay with having her love him but not that he loves her. He’s too narcissistic to fall in love.

Value: 3/10 or 7/10. 3 is your stubborn and boring to him and you’ve given him nothing. 7 is you give him what he wants and are obedient for the most part.

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