#she was never actually meant to be a princess doll at all

[raggydollsscreenshots]

Posting screenshots from The Raggy Dolls every day until ITV puts it on ITVX: Day 76:

[klaus-littlestwolf]

Hello Love, I was wondering if you would write one Dark! Yandere!Mafia! Bucky and Klaus x chubby reader, where they meet her at the park while she was having a stroll and a random group of boys start disturbing her, Klaus gets furious and bucky is already on the move, they save her and from then on they become friends according to the reader's perspective but to them she is already their Princess. They keep an eye on her, put security around her apartment as well as her work space and any man who even dares to look at her gets to face their wrath. One day they decide that they have had enough and kidnap her, obviously she is terrified but seeing them she is heart broken how can they do this to her but they don't think this to be an offense and begin courting her. Eventually she falls for them and you can continue Idk..... They tell her stories about the evil that lurk in the shadows just so they could keep her close making her feel safe in the hands of the Devils . Can you also write about how she is the one who kills Mikael when he attacks Klaus since Bucky was absent and she cannot bear someone hurting her Nikky. When Bucky returns he finds out about the whole event and is so proud of his Doll but it was her first murder and now she is so full of guilt and Klaus is doing a terrible job of comforting her so he takes the matter into his own hands...... Idk can I request a fluffy ending at the last. Sorry the request is too long. It would be great if you could write this one shot....... ( This is my first request)

(P.S. - My hands are shaking writing this up, I am super nervous)

I love you very much and your writings just make my day , if you don't feel comfortable you don't need to write it up.

Bye Love.

A Strange Kind of Love -Yan!Mafia!Bucky B./Klaus M.

It’s actually a very interesting idea and I like it a lot. I assumed you wanted a human AU. I went against my instinct on this one since you didn’t ask for a Daddy Kink so it does not contain DD/LG content

Also, you never need to be nervous to make a request, I don’t judge anyone for the things they want to read. I’m sure you can tell from the things I write (that range from strange to truly fucked up) that I understand wanting to read specific things or kinks or relationships and honestly (especially after writing this) I want to do more KlausxOCxBucky cause they’re so cute together with their Princess (so if you have more ideas make your requests). Never worry about your requests cause trust me, everyone on this app has thought about (and read) weirder in every way🤣

Thank you for the compliments btw, I’m so glad you love my stories so much. I never in a million years would have thought people would like them so much but it makes me so unbelievably happy🥰

Warning: Smut! Threesome, Breeding Kink, Kidnapping, Mentions of abuse, Mikael being a Dick

Bucky and Klaus hadn’t meant to be in the park that day at all. They had just gotten done taking care of a group of idiots who thought they could come into the Mikaelson’s city and do whatever they wanted. To their credit, Bucky had given them a warning, they just chose not to listen and Klaus had run out of patience, deciding that setting their house on fire sounded like fun. On the way out the cops were between them and their car so they had their man pull around the park and they would meet them.

On their way through the park to the car, they came across a scene that angered the both of them. A women, holding her bag tightly and trying to move away while 3 men were seemingly playing some kind of game with her as they grabbed at her clothes.

‘Come on babe, we just wanna play with you!’

‘Yeah, don’t run away, you have time for a game!’ One of the men pulled her shirt hard and ripped two of the bottom buttons apart making her scream, kicking him in the knee as hard as she could. The idiot collapsed with a yelp much like that of an angry chihuahua before glaring up at her.

‘Don’t touch me!’

‘Oh, you’re gonna get it for that one girlie!’ The other one grabbed her arm but was cut off, hearing the sound of Bucky clearing his throat.

‘That’s no way to treat a lady.’ Klaus stated, fingers around the handle of the blade he keeps tucked into his pants as the asshole released her and began backing away, clearly recognizing them.

‘My friend is right. Run along now and hope this young lady doesn’t want revenge for this later.’ Bucky spoke, helping her up from where she had fallen before the men ran away. ‘Are you alright?’ She nodded, holding the bottom of her shirt closed as Klaus came back, having run after the idiots a ways to scare them into not coming back, Bucky knew that Klaus loved to tease idiots like that in hopes they would fuck up and he could kill them. ‘I’m James but everyone just calls me Bucky, this here is my brother for all intents and purposes, Klaus. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Kitten.’ Both men enjoyed the blush on her cheeks at the nickname, taken aback by how cute this girl was.

‘I’m Y/n, thank you for your help. I’m really grateful…oh fuck! I’m so late for work, I have to go!’ She turned to go when Klaus caught her arm making her flinch.

‘Sorry, no need to be afraid. I had just hoped we could have your number. We’d like to make sure you’re still alright later.’

As Y/n looked up at Bucky and Klaus she couldn’t help but feel safe. She didn’t know why but they were comforting and so she nodded, taking Klaus’ phone and doing just that for him.

Bucky and Klaus, upon getting to their car, began talking about the sweet girl they had met and realized they both felt a pull to her, one that was strong and desperate. It wasn’t often that Bucky and Klaus genuinely liked a women in any way other than wanting her in their bed, let alone the same women but they had shared before and they knew that Y/n was worth it.

They never thought it would become what it had, them falling in love with the perfect women, but here they are, head over heels a month after meeting and taking her out to dinner for the 4th time that week.

Neither of them could go very long without seeing their girl, both Bucky and Klaus knowing they have obsessive personalities but they also knew they would never hurt Y/n, they were in love with her.

Of course she was naive enough to think they were just her friends, never expecting both of them to want to be with her so it never crossed her mind that these were dates they were going on. The men saw no issue with Y/n in any way, she was their beautiful Babygirl. She was sweet and innocent, the most loving girl they had ever met and far more than they deserve (though they would never admit that they both knew that out loud), they never even considered that she didn’t ‘look the part’ of a women that they would normally date. She was a little on the chubby side but they loved everything about her, Bucky loving to feel her weight on top of him when he lays back on the couch, pulling her with him and refusing to even hear her complaints. Every time he ends up trying to hide his erection as he dreams of wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her still while he ruts his cock up into her tight little pussy until she’s crying in ecstasy. Klaus enjoys resting his head on her thick thighs like the comfiest pillow in the world while she plays with his hair, dreaming about the day that she would allow him to be smothered between them. He would eat her pussy like a man dying of thirst and could only imagine the sounds she would make for him.

They didn’t understand why she thought she wasn’t good enough for them but honestly it gave them time to get everything the way they needed it so they would put up with it, until the house is finished.

It was the mugging that pushed them over the edge.

She didn’t call them that morning like she always did, not even at least sending a text to say ‘good morning’ as she always had and so Klaus and Bucky found themselves in their Chevrolet Corvette E Ray (which Klaus had just gotten specifically to take Y/n for a scenic drive/picnic and impress her even if money didn’t really do that) to get to her as fast as they could.

They broke about 45 different traffic laws but the cop that noticed them and began driving after them pulled off quickly, probably having run the plates and realized who it was, not wanting all the paperwork or the lawyers involved just for whatever ticket he was going to write. Upon arriving at her apartment they found out that their girl had walked to the corner store that morning and been robbed, her phone being taken so she couldn’t text them. Bucky kissed her head before leaving the room, getting on his phone and having his men work to track hers and find the asshole who did it while Klaus used his phone to order them breakfast to be delivered, snuggling their Babygirl as close as he could and wiping her tears repeatedly before calling her boss to let him know she wouldn’t be in the next week. Thankfully they had met her boss at a work event they insisted on joining her at and the man wanted more than anything to impress them both.

They spent the day cheering their girl up, even getting her back her phone which had sadly been destroyed by the idiot trying to get into it before staying the night with her, snuggled between them in her bed.

‘This is the way it should be. Our Princess cuddled up between us without a care in the world.’ Klaus noted and Bucky agreed.

‘I called today, they’re working shifts round the clock now. The cabin will be finished in 2 days, Steve and Elijah are having everything moved in right now. Just 2 more days and our Kitten will be ours, brother.’ The men couldn’t hide the smiles on their faces, knowing they were going to keep their Babygirl safe where nothing could ever hurt her again.

Waking up was disorienting, the drugs clearly still being in her blood stream but she pushed through the feeling, sitting up to find herself in a huge bed that was probably the comfiest thing she had ever laid on. As she looked around, her head spinning with dizziness, the bedroom door opened and her head snapped up to see Klaus walk in.

‘Klaus! Thank God! I thought I was alone!’ She moved to the edge of the bed, Klaus catching her before she could collapse. ‘Where’s Bucky? Is he okay?!’

It was obvious that she didn’t immediately think that they had brought her here, she thought they had all been brought here together. ‘He’s downstairs making you some tea.’

‘Making tea? Why would…no…Klaus no…w-why?’ She whimpered, tears rising in her eyes but as Klaus moved to wipe them away she smacked his hand from her face, stumbling back as her legs gave out but not letting him help her.

‘Princess, please? Just let me-‘

‘Don’t Touch Me! Don’t You Ever Touch Me Again!’ She screamed, turning and using the bed to help her stand, turning to the door Klaus had just come through before he cut off her exit. ‘Why are you doing this? I want to go home Klaus, I’m scared and I want to go home.’

Klaus felt his chest tighten, hating to see tears on his Princess’ face. ‘You are home baby, it’s okay. We brought you here to keep you safe. No more mugging, no more shitty bosses or backstabbing friends, just us…you, me and Bucky. Doesn’t that sound nice?’

‘You kidnapped me…and now you want me to tell you that it sounds great here? Fuck you!’ She hissed, sitting back onto the bed before the door opened again and Bucky stepped in with a tray.

‘Good morning-Now I know you’re feeling a tad angry, but we did this to protect you.’

‘You pretentious asshole! You-‘

‘Enough!’ Bucky exclaimed, clearly done with her attitude making her flinch away and Klaus moved to her side, taking her hand in his and pressing it to his lips.

‘We will never harm you Baby, not ever. Please don’t flinch like that? You know we would never let you get hurt.’ Klaus’ eyes were big and needy, hating the idea that the girl he is desperately in love with would be afraid of him.

‘You Kidnapped Me! You were my friends! How could you guys-‘

‘We were never your friends, Doll.’

‘Bucky!’ Klaus snapped but he was ignored, Bucky’s metal fingers trailing down the side of her face.

‘We have been in love with you since the moment we met and there’s no way you don’t know that Kitten.’

‘You’re insane! Men like you don’t go for girls like me, let alone 2 of you! I’m not stupid…at least not completely considering I believed you cared about me to begin with.’

‘Okay, now you’re just being dramatic-‘

‘You’ve kidnapped me-‘

‘We Love You!’ He shouted, becoming overwhelmed with your disregard for their feelings. ‘We’ve loved you for months, Doll…this ain’t some casual fling for us, we’ve shared girls for a night before but never more than that. Never something like you…we love you so much Kitten, more than I thought possible.’ Bucky admitted, Y/n staring in shock, unsure of what to say.

‘As well as more than I thought myself capable.’ Klaus spoke up. ‘You know about my father…my family and I…I never thought I would be able to love someone the way people talk about in those cheesy love stories but you did that for me…you broke down walls I’ve been building since I was a child and I…I need you not to hate us. We had to protect you…Please?’ Klaus pleaded, desperate for her loving gaze to be back on him as it’s been since the day they met.

‘Klaus I-I could never hate you…but I don’t know that I can just get over being kidnapped by the people I trusted most in the entire world. You have to understand that, and so do you. I trusted you, the whole time you could have just told me how you felt but you didn’t, you let me think I was disgusting and fucked up for liking the both of you and now I don’t know that I can forgive you. Especially if this is who Bucky really is-‘ she said, turning to look at him. ‘because I loved the sweet man who snuggled with me whenever I was sad but this angry one who shouts at me for being upset at being Kidnapped? I don’t know who he is and I don’t know that I want to if this is the way you are.’ Bucky had the decency to look saddened by her admission but didn’t let it bother him too much as he handed her the cup of tea.

‘We do understand Princess, and there’s some things we need to tell you. No matter what though, you are safe with us.’ Klaus promised, kissing her hand and sat down beside her on the bed along with Bucky where they spent the next 2 hours explaining who they really were. Their lives, childhoods, and jobs they now had as the heads of 2 separate crime families that only joined together thanks to Klaus and Buckys resilient friendship.

Y/n would have been impressed if she wasn’t so horrified…she’s a bit impressed by them, though she refused to forgive them that quickly. They had a lot of making up to do if they wanted to be friends again…or whatever it is they really wanted to be…?

It was nearly a full week later that any kind of development happened in the battle Y/n was fighting against them.

The crash was startling and as much as Y/n wanted to pretend that she didn’t care, she didn’t want Klaus to be hurt and she knew Bucky wasn’t here leading to her standing from the bed and creeping down the stairs quietly. She had just planned to peek into the den to make sure he wasn’t dead before going back upstairs but as she looked in she saw Klaus on the floor with blood dripping from his nose and mouth and a man crouched over top of him with a sinister look in his eyes.

Y/n instantly recognized the man from the family pictures that Klaus had shown her. This was Klaus’ step father, the man that had spent Klaus’ entire life beating him senseless and making him believe he was unworthy of any kind of love and affection.

This was Mikael.

Bucky had spoken about murdering the man only 500 times in their relationship and she knew he wanted the man dead almost as much as Klaus did and she expected one day that he would show up.

What she didn’t expect however, was Klaus to lay there completely frozen, petrified.

Y/n, who had been trying so hard to remain angry at Klaus and Bucky in the last week, felt her heart break at the sight of this strong man who she had depended on time and time again, looking so small and scared. She knew she couldn’t just go back upstairs and do nothing, she hated this man. Hated him for everything he had done to Klaus, everything he had made her friend feel. She knew that Bucky would want to kill Mikael, she knew he would be doing it already if he was only here, but he’s not here…she is.

Y/n crept around to the living room and got to the fire place, retrieving the fire poker as quietly as possible, as well as the duct tape from the junk drawer before approaching the den again.

‘You really thought you could hide from me, didn’t you, boy? You’ve been hiding behind that boyfriend of yours since you met, found yourself a tough son of a bitch to protect you like the weakling you are and always have been. But he’s not here now, is he?’ She quietly crept up behind the man, instantly despising him even more than she already did which she would have thought was completely impossible. ‘Theres no one left to hide behind, who is going to protect you now, hmm?’

‘I am.’ Y/n spoke up, clearly startling him as he spun his head around only for her to swing the fire poker and slash it straight across his face. She swung it again into the back of his head before he could move and he collapsed off of Klaus and onto the floor. She hit him once more before grabbing the duct tape, rolling him onto his back and pulling his hands together to wrap the tape around them far too many times before doing the same with his feet before taping them together as if he was hog tied-just with way too much tape. Y/n turned to look at where Klaus had been laying and he had turned to see where his Step Father laid, eyes wide and completely shocked. She dropped the fire poker and moved to kneel beside him, wrapping her arms around his neck and he instantly sat up, pulling her onto his lap with his arms firmly wrapped around her waist. He was sniffling over and over, clearly trying to control himself and his body as it continued to shake thanks to the adrenaline rushing through it. ‘It’s okay. You’re safe now…you’re safe Klaus.’

Klaus reached his hands up, cupping Y/n’s cheeks and pressing his lips to hers desperately. It felt wonderful to be in Klaus’ arms again, she had missed him. ‘You saved me.’ He spoke against her lips, hands squeezing her waist.

‘‘Of course I did…I couldn’t let him hurt you. I love you…’ she admitted, seeing Klaus’ face light up in happiness before he pressed his lips to hers again, groaning as he felt her hand pulling his shirt over his head prompting Klaus to grab hold of her collar and rip her shirt open, buttons flying everywhere while he yanked it off, followed by her lacy black bra.

‘Gods, you are fucking perfection, you know that?’ One thing Y/n loved about Klaus and Bucky? They never failed to make her feel like the prettiest girl in every room. They never even seemed to notice the fact that she was chubbier than all of the women who stared at them unashamedly even when she’s right there as if she’s such little competition they don’t even have to think about it. They never even glance at other women when she’s there and even now, Y/n feels like the sexiest women in the entire world.

‘Your hands feel so good, never stop touching me, please?’

‘Never! Never stopping Princess, I will touch you for the rest of forever until we take to the grave and we are buried together for eternity! No more running, all ours now…’ he swore, lifting her leg over him from where she had sat on his lap so she now straddled his waist. Klaus pulled her pants down before just ripping them off to avoid moving her again. ‘So fucking perfect baby-‘

‘Please?’ She whined, feeling him move her thong to the side and brush his cock against her clit.

‘No need to beg Princess, don’t worry, I’m going to fuck you just how you need. My good girl deserves to be rewarded for protecting me, doesn’t she?’ Y/n nodded her head rapidly, crying out quite loudly when Klaus pushed his cock up and into her sopping wet cunt, stretching her hole deliciously. ‘So perfect baby! Perfect fucking cunt, oh Shit!’ He wrapped one arm tightly around her waist to pin her chest against him while the other arm rested up her back and his hand held her shoulder giving him the leverage to pull her down against him with every thrust of his hips.

‘Ah! Ah! Right there! Please?!’

‘There?’ Klaus wondered, thrusting his hips particularly hard.

‘Fuck Yes!’ Y/n shrieked, nails digging into his back again and most definitely drawing blood.

What neither of them heard in their blissful desperation was the front door opening and Bucky running into the house having gotten an alarm alert on his phone when Mikael came in. Neither Klaus nor Y/n were answering their phones and he was panicking until he heard the noises coming from the den. Peeking his head around the corner he was shocked to find a hog tied man that he recognized from Klaus’ family pictures as well as his brother with their girl on his lap, his cock buried inside of her as deep as possible.

‘Close…so close! Please?!’ She begged and Bucky moved quietly into the room crouching behind them. His hand moved between them finding his Kittens clit to roughly caress, her entire body stiffening a second later before she cried out and Klaus held her down against him as he grunted, cumming deep inside of their girl the way they had always dreamed of.

Once they had relaxed and Y/n had snuggled into Klaus’ neck, Bucky decided to make his presence known. ‘That was beautiful.’ He stated, both of them jumping in fright, Klaus ready to pull her behind him just as he realized that it was just his brother.

‘Fucking Hell Buck! Don’t do that, I’ve had enough scares for one day.’ He spoke and Y/n turned his head, kissing his lips softly.

‘He won’t touch you again Nikky, you’re safe now.’ She promised and he snuggled into her neck, enjoying her comfort.

‘Course you are bro, especially with our little protector here. You did this, didn’t you killer?’ He teased, but held a level of respect in his eyes that made her happy.

‘He was gonna kill him, I didn’t have a choice…I-‘

‘You did so well Kitten, I’m so proud of you!’ Bucky insisted, pulling her face closer to kiss her softly. ‘You know what that means, don’t you?’ She looked at him curiously while Bucky and Klaus looked at each other, knowing exactly what they’ve been waiting for for months on end. They were finally going to have her just the way they wanted. ‘Good little Kittens get rewarded…take her upstairs Nik, I’ll take care of him.’

‘But…I wanna watch.’ Y/n pouted making both men laugh.

‘Buckys gonna lock him in the shed. Don’t worry Love, you can see as much as you want to.’ Klaus hoisted her up into his arms and carried her through the hall and up the stairs to their bedroom, which made up the entire first floor other than a bathroom.

Bucky dragged the man down the hall and through the kitchen out the back door to the shed. They had it built just in case someone should decide to try and hurt their Babygirl here, giving them the perfect place to have some…fun with Mikael. Bucky cut all the tape off before chaining him to the floor in the center of the room, locking the doors behind him and quickly running back to the house where he locked everything else up as they wouldn’t be leaving any time soon.

Y/n was back on Nik’s lap and kissing him contently when Bucky came back in, stripping off his suit in no time, crawling up onto the bed and getting their attention. ‘Wow…’ she mumbled as she looked over his toned body. Bucky knew he was nice to look at, while Klaus had muscle he was leaner where as Bucky held muscle extremely well and while his cock was slightly less thick than his brothers, it was almost a full inch longer. It drew their girls eyes instantly and he couldn’t hide his smirk if he wanted to.

‘Did you enjoy Nikky stretching your pretty little pussy on his cock?’ She nodded her head with a whine, turning to face Bucky who grabbed her thighs and yanked her forward. A squeal left her as she fell back onto the giant bed, him lifting her legs to present her cunt to his eyes. ‘I bet you did, but now it’s my turn and I’m gonna fuck my cock into you so deep you’ll be carrying my babies by morning.’ Her eyes widened dramatically before he leaned down and pressed his mouth against her clit.

‘Oh God!’

‘That’s right Princess, in this room we are your Gods. You worship and we give you everything you could ever want…riches-‘ Klaus leaned down, pressing his lips to hers sweetly. ‘-Pleasure…’ he kissed down her chest to her breasts, nipping her skin teasingly. ‘-Fertility…’ he smirked, wrapping his lips around her nipple and twisting the other just as Bucky shoved his tongue into her hole, his nose brushing her clit hard and sending her over the edge, making her cry out.

‘There you go, good girl!’ Bucky smirked, lifting her legs as he pushed his way between them, his long member brushing against her sensitive clit. ‘We’ve been waiting a long time for this Kitten, and you have too, haven’t you?’ Y/n whimpered as Klaus continued his teasing at her breasts. ‘We’re gonna put a baby in you tonight, one way or another.’ He gestured to Klaus who hopped up, moving to the closet and grabbing a box that he set on the edge of the oversized bed, pulling out a silicone plug with a purple jewel on the end making her tense and Bucky groan. ‘That’s right Kitten, we’re gonna fill you up all night long.’ He promised, taking hold of his cock and pressing it into her slick hole, not stopping until he bottomed out completely. ‘Nothings ever been so deep in this pretty little cunt, has it?’ She whined needily which answered his question just fine before he began thrusting into her.

‘Oh Fuck! Too Much!’

‘Too much? Too Much? Impossible! Our girl can take anything and everything we have to give her, can’t you Kitten? We’re gonna fill you so full you’ll be leaking all over the bed, gonna make us Daddies tonight, aren’t you?’ Tears were falling from her face as she nodded frantically, practically begging him for more. ‘Gonna plug you up so full it won’t be possible that you’re not knocked up!’ Bucky was thrusting up into her so hard she knew she would be sore but she couldn’t find it in herself to care as Klaus turned her head to the side and shoved his cock between her lips.

‘Fuck! Such a hot fucking mouth! Christ! Sucking my cock so good for me Princess!’ She moaned, choking on his cock as he pushed into the back of her throat.

‘Oh shit! Gonna fill you up so good Kitten, you want your pretty little pussy full don’t you? You need it!’ She moaned around Klaus’ dick but Bucky got the message just fine. ‘Yes, gonna give our girl a baby, Fuck!’ Bucky growled as he shoved his cock as deeply into her body as he could, cumming hard and holding her on him to keep himself as deep as he could. ‘My good little Kitten.’ He hummed, pinching her nipple teasingly.

‘Move Buck!’ Klaus insisted, pulling himself out of her mouth which caused her to whine, Bucky pulling out and laying beside her as Klaus stretched her hole around his cock again. ‘Just needed to fill your cunt again. You can drink my cum 10 times a day when this womb is full, but-ah! Until then we’re gonna fill this hole every…single…time! Oh Shit!’ Once again Klaus filled her up and she whined at how full her body felt now. His cock stayed buried into her as his hand put pressure on her lower belly, caressing her as if it would ensure their seed took.

‘Open your mouth.’ Bucky told her and she did, only to have the plug shoved between her lips to wet it before pulling it back out and moving to shove it into her cunt as soon as Klaus pulled back, not allowing a single drop spilled. ‘Good girl. Now, you rest because after you have had some time to relax, we’re gonna do it all over again.’ She whined before Klaus laid at her other side, shushing her.

‘Relax Princess. You’re all ours now, and we’re gonna take such good care of you.’

A Strange Kind of Love Moodboard

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[arabellasleopardcoat]

Rhaenyra x reader with incest if it hasn’t already been crossed out?

Baby teeth (Rhaenyra Targaryen x Reader)

Summary: Cousins. You hate them or you love them. And Rhaenyra knows exactly how she feels about you.

Warnings: Incest. One use of Daddy.

Requested: Yes! The first one I fill, too. Here you go! I hope you enjoy this, since it’s my first time writing Rhaenyra.

There is something dangerous about the boredom of young maidens. That’s what Septa Marlow used to say. Rhaenyra never understood it properly. Not until now.

As you entered the Hall, hot in Daemon’s heels and with an expression of absolute contempt, she wondered what could possibly be your reason for coming. It was well known that you two weren’t friends. Viserys and Daemon made actual efforts to keep you apart, after a particularly nasty episode during your shared childhood.

Even at four years old, you were a nasty little thing. All the worst parts of Daemon and Rhea Royce, rolled into one. Rhaenyra had taken your favorite doll, arguing that she was a Princess and so deserved to have it. You had dug your little baby teeth into her calf so hard, she still wore the evidence of your wrath.

Back then, Rhaenyra had wailed for hours, as Viserys rubbed her back. Daemon had tried to get you to apologize, and you had just stuck out your little chin defiantly and refused to budge.

“It was mine.” You had said. Daemon, new to parenthood and not sure about how to handle you, had passed you to his wife. They had argued for hours, screaming for the whole Red Keep to hear. Daemon said your mother hadn’t raised you right. Rhea had screamed back that you had inherited his nasty nature.

If she had to choose a memory to define your personality, she would pick that afternoon. Demon child that you were, you had sat outside their room, playing with your doll. Rhaenyra never again forgot your triumphant smile.

About to become a married woman in less than two days, Rhaenyra finally understood what Septa Marlow meant about boredom of young girls. It was not achieved in an exemplary show of self reflection, no. Exempt as she was now from those silly lessons, Rhaenyra barely gave it more thought than she gave to her childhood bedtime stories.

It was from looking at you, that it started to make sense. Not because you were purity, respect, and shy subservience all incarnate, but because you weren’t. When Viserys had felt like a particularly invested parent, he used to compare you to her.

“Look at your cousin.” He would say. “Daemon tells me she is great at the harp. And she attends to the Sept daily.”

It had fueled her to be better. Because she hated you. She despised you. You had bitten her, like some sort of feral cat. You were not a Princess, but a mere Lady, yet seemed to show her in every area that you dedicated yourself to, according to Viserys.

Either Daemon had lied to him, or he had lied to her. Because did a proper lady show up to a wedding in a black and bronze dress cut in the dornish fashion? No, she did not. Yet as you walked towards the high table behind your father, Rhaenyra could not help but admire you. There was a confusing beauty in your exposed arms and collarbones, in the barest hint of a thigh that could be seen from the side when your gown moved.

It was a surprise to no one that Daemon crashed the wedding. After all, it was in his style to do so. No one bated an eyelash at it. Instead, all eyes were on you. Your gown was a statement if Rhaenyra ever saw one. House Royce stood proud today, not House Targaryen.

She wondered what Daemon thought about it. Not only were you wearing a risqué gown, but you were making a declaration. You were the daughter of Rhea Royce, and you wouldn’t be silenced. A brave stand, especially if the rumors were to be true.

Rhaenyra had heard about it, of course. Your mother’s passing and the alleged hand Daemon had had in it. You looked to be the only one looking for justice for Rhea Royce. Rhaenyra understood the feeling well. Too often, Targaryen men disregarded women in favor of advancing their ambitions.

Hadn’t Daemon done that to her in a ploy to get her off the race for the Iron Throne? Left her there, standing in the middle of a brothel, possibly to face her ruin? She betted he would have not been so happy, so easily pulled away, if it were you in that brothel. He would have burned it down and salted the earth to protect his little dragon.

You were oblivious to it, of course. But the only time that Daemon had been in agreement with Otto Hightower had been when Viserys shyly suggesting taking you as a wife. The row had been explosive, or so she had been told. One arguing that he was King and could do as he wished, Otto screaming it was giving Daemon too much power, and Daemon screaming that he was a perverted old man.

He had not seemed to care about the age difference so much in regard to her, though. Hypocrite. Yet love had a way, it appeared, of bending one’s moral compasses. Or making one grow one, in the case of Daemon.

She envied you for that, too. While Viserys had been willing to pawn her off to an old man or a child, Daemon had been insistent on finding you an age appropriate match. It was why you were still unmarried, despite being only two years younger than her.

As her father pulled a chair for you and Daemon to sit, Alicent made her own entrance, wearing a green gown. The same color Oldtown lit up in when Hightowers went to war.

“It seems she has outdone me.” You pouted, towards no one in particular. Your voice was different from what Rhaenyra remembered. Deeper and accented. You spoke in the clipped tones those in the Vale had, more proper for calling horses than noble speech. It reminded her of her mother.

“It’s my wedding, cousin.” Rhaenyra narrowed her eyes at you. Why did you have to show off all the time? You came in here, looking more like a Royce than a Targaryen and had to flaunt it in everyone's faces. “Neither of you are supposed to outdone me.”

“Girls, girls.” Her father placated, placing a hand on her arm. Rhaenyra glared. You glared at her, right back. “You both look gorgeous tonight. No need to fight.”

“Ah, right. How could I possibly forget?” You whispered, right back. “It’s all about Princess Rhaenyra tonight. And every other night. With my father, with yours…” You trailed off, bitterly. Daemon smiled at Viserys, tense. No one wanted the reminder of what had happened between Rhaenyra and him.

The Velaryons, meanwhile, look between the attendants with polite masks. But Rhaenyra can tell Rhaenys is just dying to say something. She is not very fond of her and your comment has given her the ammunition she needed.

Alicent tries to interject, perhaps redirect the conversation, but Rhaenyra is not listening. All she can see are your defiant eyes.

If you wanted to play, it was fine by her. Rhenyra was more than willing to go a few rounds. Her ego was bruised enough that she doubted anything you could say would actually hurt her. But it didn’t mean she had to tolerate your disrespect laying down.

“Dearest cousin, I notice you growing a bit thick on the hips. Tell me, have you traded the dragon for the horse?”

Lyonel Strong nearly spits out his wine. You give him a sweet smile and then say something that freezes both Rhaenyra and Alicent.

“Oh, not so often as you do. I heard you went riding with your white cloak. Where is he? I thought he might appreciate my dress tonight.”

Rhaenyra sees red. It’s the only explanation because she is dreadfully rude. She throws you the half of a pomegranate, which you gracefully catch.

Viserys laughs awkwardly.

“I think we should begin the feast. The Lady Targaryen is looking famished.”

“Of course.” Daemon immediately caught on, following his brother’s lie. Rhaenyra wanted to slap him. Was it him, who had slipped that piece of gossip to you? “How considerate of my niece for noticing.”

“She has grown into a fine flower. Although not without thorns.” Viserys whispers to Daemon, much to Rhaenyra’s disgust. It’s evident that he is talking about you. Was it only the distance from court, what kept you from taking Alicent’s place? Would her father have married you if Daemon had offered you?

After all, you have all his worst qualities. After nearly tangling in the sheets of the man, Rhaenyra is not afraid to admit it.

As if taunting her, you flash her a feral little grin. Pearly teeth on full display, you bite savagely into the pomegranate. Rhaenyra’s calf throbs in sympathy.

Her eyes are fixated only on you. She ignores Laenor’s attempt at making conversation. There is a drop of red juice gathering on your lower lip. There is a sudden urge to rub her thumb over it. Of pinching the appendix with her teeth and biting until she draws blood, all rabid hound.

Cousins. You hate them, or you love them, there is no middle point. The drop slips lower, towards your chin. You have the manners of a peasant, smearing the juices all over your face. Messy girl.

“Is there something on my face?” You ask a very flustered Corlys Velaryon, licking your lips. Daemon tuts in disapproval, but does nothing. Rhaenys looks on the verge of slapping you, but most men in the hall seem to enjoy the display. Even righteous Criston Cole looks your way for a second.

A droplet of juice travels down, down, down, between your collarbones and towards the valley of your tits. She thinks of biting down the soft hollow of your throat and not letting go until you were sweet. “Cousin, please.” Pretty eyes filled with tears, mouth agape. She can see it so clearly… Blood on your throat, all over that pretty little dornish number… Rhaenyra blinks. A trick of the light, surely. For a second, it looked like you actually were covered in blood.

“Daughter.” Daemon says, and tenderly cleans your lips with a napkin. His hands linger a little too long on your throat. Rhaenyra doesn’t know whether he wants to strangle you or is genuinely trying to clean you up and preventing yourself from making a spectacle. She understands both urges. “Please. Why don’t you go greet your other cousins?”

You give him a sultry look, from beneath your lashes. Another pout.

“Oh, Daddy…” You purr, and it’s clearly not directed at him, but to the man your eyes are fixated on. Corlys Velaryon, yet again shifting uncomfortably on his seat. Daemon clenches his fist. Her father clears her throat and gives Rhaenyra a pointed look. Get her out here, his eyes seem to say. Before Daemon punches your future father-in-law and ruins your wedding. “You are no fun.”

“Cousin.” Rhaenyra says, all high and airy. In truth, she too wants these men to stop looking at you. You are hers. Disrespectful fools, can’t they see you already claimed her? “Care for a dance?”

“Of course, Princess. Thought you never ask.” And you get up, insolent little brat that you are, and take her hand. Was it all a ploy? Were you flirting with Corlys Velaryon only to get her alone?

Insufferable brat, that you are. Of course you were.

She wonders, sometimes, what is it, that you want. You don’t care for her. You are as much of a spoiled princess as she is, yet you refuse to see it. Embracing the Royce side of your heritage favored your delusions of normalcy. Learning to hawk and hunt, riding as well as any man would. You have a dragon, of course, but it wears the Royce’s sigil proudly on its neck, and not one of the Targaryen collars.

What is it that you want? Rebel against Daemon? You resent him, surely. For leaving when you were a mere girl, and showing up to the Vale when you are a woman grown, expecting you to bend to his will. Rhaenyra can understand that. She, too, has been babied by Targaryen men. Not even Daemon, despite his lust, sees her as a woman.

It must make for an interesting dynamic. You are headstrong. So it’s Daemon. In your eyes, he abandoned you and your mother to go fight his little war and then tried to get his marriage annulled, making you a bastard, all in a ploy to bed his niece and take the throne. Said niece is only two years your senior and childhood nemesis.

She has heard you are soon to be married, but not yet to whom. Her father leans towards marrying you to Harwin Strong, son of his Hand. A way to keep Daemon under control. The match is slightly more age appropriate. They had yet to decide the problems of inheritance, though.

Rhaenyra doubts Harwin will want you, a dark, bad behaved thing who is always on edge. She has caught him looking at her more than a few times, and you are nothing alike. Oil and water. Well, more like silver and bronze.

As you walk together towards the makeshift dance floor, hand in hand, the crowd parts for you. Rhaenyra lifts her head, proudly. The music that is playing is fit for a couple’s dance, no doubt playing in hopes of luring her and Laenor to dance.

It will not be happening today, it seems. Because Rhaenyra places you in the line along with the women, taking her place among the men. Your hands feel warm in Rhaenyra’s hands, and she smiles. A true Targaryen always runs hot.

You smile back. Rhaenyra circles you, almost predatory. She drinks you in. The untamed spirit. The bewitching eyes. The bristles of teenage rebellion you have yet to shed.

The best parts of Daemon. What had pulled her in. Yet, not the same. Not at all.

You circle back, eyes narrowed. At the high table, your fathers watch. Both of them are pleased by what seems to be the end of the hostilities. They have no idea how you vex Rhaenyra, with those enchanting eyes of yours. How much she wants to find out what's inside that pretty skull, what makes you tick.

Then, the unexpected. As Rhaenyra extends her hand, about to make you twirl, you twirl her instead. Taking the lead from her. You twirl her, and as she comes out of it, it turns into a battle for dominance again. Rhaenyra starts doing the figures for the male partner a little more aggressively, clapping near your ear and forcing you to move to her will.

You struggle, at first. Then you give in. Sweet little cousin that you are, submitting to your Princess and future Queen. Yet, your smile is as ferocious as ever, shiny teeth just begging to sink into her and pull. Feral. As always.

The dance finishes with the two of you standing close, so close Rhaenyra can count every one of your lashes. Your chest rises and falls, lifting your tits tantalizingly. She thinks of licking the sweat from the valley between them, of biting the soft flesh. Of your beautiful little gasps.

Would your eyes light up in bed the same way hers do? After all, Viserys and Daemon are brothers. Both of you share some subtle similarities. Rhaenyra wonders if laying you down on her bed might be like having sex with her reflection. A distorted one, perhaps.

You stand in black, while she does it in white.

“We shouldn't.” Your voice breaks the spell. Despite your eyes constantly darting towards her lips, which Rhaenyra cannot help but lick, you seem spooked. She brushes a hand against your cheek, softly. Tilting your head just so to kiss you. “This is wrong.” You say, expression delightfully tortured. No matter your protests, you close your eyes, leaning into her.

She is so close to breaking you.

“You are a Targaryen.” It's the wrong thing to say. You pull away from her touch, frowning.

“And you are about to get married.”

“Aegon the Conqueror had two wives.” Rhaenyra presses. She is willing if it means having you. If your ancestor married sisters, why can't Laenor marry cousins?

“Does Laenor look to you like a man who could handle a wife, much less two?” You smile, showing her your canines in a bitter gesture. “My father seduces whores with that same line. Get your own.”

Joyfully, you go, right into Ser Harwin's arms. You start dancing with him. You don't look as good as you did when dancing with her. Your blush and your little giggles seem to put the man under a trance. Rhaenyra scowls. So much for wanting her. Good gods, were his affections so fickle? Were yours?

Wanting entertainment for the night, she glances at Daemon. Ugh. Dancing with that girl, Laena. Men. Always led by their cocks.

She doesn't want Daemon. She is not sure what she wants, in truth. Does she want you because you are so much like him? Or did she want him because he reminded her of you?

What was first, the dragon or the egg?

Rhaenyra is the one with fickle affections, much to her horror. As she stands in the middle of the dance floor, she feels adrift at the realization she has a type. Targaryens. Rhaenyra likes you, defiant little grins and all. But what really warms her blood is the thought of you and her being similar.

Is that what Daemon felt when looking at her? This deep connection, the urge to grab you and pull you away from Ser Harwin's arms, whose hands are straying lower and lower down your back. And you are letting him. You are letting him touch you, and sure, he is handsome. But you are a Princess, even if not in title. You are hers, as much Daemon is Viserys's.

Rhaenyra knows you want her. How could you not, when you looked at her with those eyes? As your own face crept closer and closer, it was clear Rhaenyra was not the only one who wanted that kiss. You had played along.

Now she is dancing with Laenor, making a pretty show. Your eyes track her every movement, despite being in the arms of your soon-to-be fiancé.

Everything is as it is supposed to be. You grin at Harwin, but Rhaenyra knows it lacks your usual strength. You are not at ease with the man and it shows. Oh, what wouldn't she do to pluck you from his arms and dance with you again.

Perhaps there is a way. Rhaenyra hides her smirk, passing it off as a smile to Laenor. As soon as the dance ends, she rushes to your side.

“Dearest cousin, you must stay with us for some weeks.” She says, interrupting you and Harwin. The man looks vaguely amused, a flicker of interest in his dark eyes. “The wedding has me thinking about our mothers, and how soon such a joyous occasion might come for you too.”

“Hm.” You answer, raising your eyebrows. The mention of your mother is a low thing to do, but it's the truth. Look at you, a maiden ripe for the taking. Marriage alliances, enviable prospects, yet motherless.

“I was thinking, as my marriage progresses, I could hope to be of guidance, just as Queen Alicent has been for me.”

“Guidance?” You ask, frowning. Maybe Rhaenyra had laid it a bit thick. She must redirect, less you spook again.

“There is much to be learned about marriage, of course. And it's my duty as the eldest cousin to prepare you for it.”

Ser Harwin's eyebrows raise. You give her your signature feral little grin. She wonders what those teeth will feel like again on her skin. Hesitantly, you place your arm on hers and allow her to pull you off the dance floor.

If you had yet to know or not the joys of the marital bed was no matter. The excuse was as good as any for getting you to stay. Rhaenyra would have to thank Daemon for that one.

[sadly-never-after]

I don’t have any real preferred endgame ships for Daring. I like Darabella more than the average tumblr EAH account and I love Dizzie but in a very different way than most shippers, I think.

Whenever I’m in my comfort place (my post canon extension based on Athena-xox’s amazing timeline (all time fave post. Truly an amazing accomplishment)) I like imagining that Daring will consciously decide to stay single and NOT mingle for a while, until he has come to terms with certain things. And I like imagining that Rosabella will be there for him, but rather as a friend with some unacted romantic chemistry. I want to believe that everything that happened since Legacy Day, culminating in his abrupt change of imagined destiny will trigger a more pensive side of him. And here’s when Lizzie comes. I want him to slowly become aware of how much he hurt her, even when it was never his intention.

I know this is a franchise made to sell dolls at tweens so it’s weird to get this dark about it, but let’s do this for the sake of my fantasies.

I feel like Daring has been hypersexualised and objectified through most of his life. His place as the most Charming of all the Charmings has turned him into a figure of lust and of status even before he was really aware of what those words meant.

The hypersexualisation can be seen through the recurrent jokes about girls fawning over him, following him, his dashing smile, and I honestly feel like Sparrow’s dare that lead to the entire thing with Lizzies was also based on that etc., etc., etc.,

When it comes to the objectification I think Duchess obsession with him is a good example. In NTV it becomes clear that she is not truly in love with him and when he scorns her she even daydreams about being the one able to reject him. Daring is not much of a real person to her. He is a symbol. He is the best of princes who saves his Princess and gets the two to live happily ever after. Everything that Duchess longs for and is denied.

To a lesser extent I also think that Ravens reaction to him (apparently) writing her a love poem could also be an example of this. Even if she has never been interested in Daring and has actually described her type as his opposite she still takes this as an accomplishment of some way.

Just to clarify: by no means do I blame neither Duchess nor Raven for this. They aren’t really at fault. This is more of a societal issue.

So, as he now realises all this things about his life, I want him to remember Lizzie. In my Sparchess heart the two are talking and Sparrow asks him about that one date Daring & Duchess had and after that a rush of unprocessed memories come at Daring and he can’t stop thinking about what he did to Lizzie for at least a week.

I want him to stay up away at night and cringe at himself wondering if an actual apology would be welcomed or not. It would make him feel better, sure, but is it Lizzie or his guilt conscience whom he wants to console? I want him to remember things about Lizzie that he otherwise didn’t think of very often. I want him to suddenly tell all of this to Rosabella only for her to feel disappointed and conflicted. I want Lizzie to catch him looking at her during lunch with a strangely contemplative expression and to turn away in apparent apathy only for her to be weirdly sad for the rest of the day and remember how isolated and betrayed she felt not only by Daring but also by Duchess.

[toychest321]

Finding information on Jamila wasn't particularly easy, but from what I can gather...

(credit to @eepop-stuffs btw for getting her on my radar!)

Jamila was first released in 2006 by Simba Toys Middle East. According to an article published upon her debut at the 2006 Middle East Toy Fair in Dubai, her prototype initially intended to include fashions representing Turkey, Bangladesh, and Indonesia. However, these concepts never made it to final release, and we unfortunately have no photos of what they would have looked like.

Her initial lineup consisted of four dolls: herself, her male Arabic friend Jamil, her Indian friend Sunayana, and her Egyptian friend Kareema.

The name Jamila means "beautiful", and she seems to have only really been released with one outfit. She wore a black abaya with silver detailing with black shoes, and underneath wore a light blue tanktop with a white pencil skirt. Like her friends Sunayana and Kareema, Jamila has dark hair, brown eyes, and henna on her hands and feet.

(Credit to Bababolond on Flickr for the images)

For those unaware, Henna is a form of body decoration which originated from Africa and the Middle East, used with a natural dye from the Mehendi (lawsonia inermis). It is commonly tied to religious ceremonies such as engagements, weddings, Diwali, and Eid!

For Eid Al-Fitr, Henna would be applied towards the end of Ramadan as a symbol of the earthly delight of being alive. Jamila (and Sunayana if we're to believe they had identical Henna) seems to have eye imagery in hers, which represents protection from evil thoughts or wishes. It's also found on the top of her hands, also symbolizing protection, and on her feet, meant to soothe the nerves.

The name Jamil means "handsome". Jamil was initially released clean-shaven, but it seems later releases gave him facial hair. This might have been around the same time he was changed from Jamila's male friend to her husband, likely because (although opposite-sex friendships aren't explicitly forbidden) certain Muslims worry such friendships might result in inappropriate romantic thoughts. While this doesn't seem to be a unanimous belief across the board (many believing opposite-sex friendships are fine so long as you're careful), it might have caused enough controversy that Simba felt the need to marry the two so there weren't any implications. (Credit to Jan Unwichtig and Bababolond on Flickr for the images)

Ngl tho he is giving me major Kenergy...

Jamil comes with a white Thobe with silver buttons, a white Serwal ( undergarments traditionally worn beneath the Thobe), a white cotton undershirt, a white headscarf known as a Ghutra (tied with a black band called the Egal), black sandals, and a small dagger.

I'm actually not sure why his doll comes with a knife? The closest I could find was the Kirpan: a knife or sword which serves as a reminder to promote justice and protect the weak, mandatory for Amritdhari Sikhs to wear at all times. However, although non-Muslims sometimes confuse the two, Sikhism is a completely separate religion from Islam.

If anyone knows what this knife might be intended to represent, please let me know and I'll reblog an edit to this post!

After they were married, Jamila and Jamil had two children: Asad (meaning "Lion") and Almira (meaning "Princess"), both seen in the first illustration on this post. However, I can only seem to find one doll release for their daughter Almira, and none for Asad. Jamila comes in this playset in her base outfit, while her daughter (who cries when you press her stomach) wears pink pajamas. The playset includes a crib and several plastic accessories, including two hair brushes, a blow drier, and a baby bottle. Not only is this only release for Almira, but this also seems to be the only other release for Jamila aside from her initial core doll.

Sunayana means "woman with lovely eyes". She has long braided black hair, wearing a blue Lehenga Choli with a yellow Dupatta. Like Jamila, she also has henna on her hands and feet. She wears silver bangles, a silver necklace, and what I believe might be a Maang Tikka. Based on her images on the back of the doll boxes, I'm fairly certain she came wearing yellow sandal heels as well!

Honestly she might be one of my favorites of the line, since you sadly don't see many culturally-accurate Indian dolls compared to other ethnic groups. I especially love the use of color, and just how much jewelry she comes with!

Finally we have Jamila's Egyptian friend Kareema, whose name means "generous" or "kind". She has pale pink undergarments painted on beneath her clothes, which I assume Jamila has as well. Weirdly enough, however, she doesn't seem to have Henna like the other two.

Like Sunayana and Jamila she has long black hair, which is kept beneath a white hijab. She wears a long blue overcoat, matching jeans, blue shoes, and a multicolored striped shirt. As far as I can tell, her clothing doesn't seem to have Egyptian cultural roots like Sunayana's has Indian, however her modest style of dress and hijab are common for most Muslim women.

I've been meaning to make this post for at least a full week, and it's nice to finally get to share another beautiful yet obscure Muslim doll! It's a shame this doll didn't have more releases, since I'm honestly curious with the direction the might have taken with her and her friends based on the prior illustration! Regardless, I'm happy I got to share her and her friends with you all :)

Ramadan Kareem!

[nexility-sims]

𝐕𝐀𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐄'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 / ❛ boy crazy ❜ part 1 (@armoricaroyalty)

❝ The Lover's Gala was the Armorican Queer Front's biggest annual event and 2044 was the 25th Anniversary. The organization's communications team had spent months putting out stories about the gala and the celebrities and members of the royals family expected to attend, trying without much success to turn the event into a major cultural major. Overnight, Princess Zofia (and her new boyfriend) blew them all out of the water. It was only his second time in Armorica, and the first time they'd appeared in public together since the funeral. It was only natural that they landed on the front page of every newspaper in the country, the gala (and the work done by the AQF) a vague footnote after paragraphs upon paragraphs breathlessly speculating about the intimate details of the lovebirds' long-distance relationship. "

♥ shoutout to gabe for pitching this very fun idea, as well as for the title card, the contextual prose, and, of course, my beloved daughter miss zofia augusta st. fleur !!!!!!! she's my favorite barbie doll & has been for a long time :^) i guess i love and adore my son as well, but nonetheless. this is special in part because it's the first time i've written them speaking outside of a parody piece that will never see the light of day. anyway, enjoy this super premature dialogue-inclusive, full-color sneak peak of Them™

PART 2

TRANSCRIPT:

{Light music, overlapping conversations}

[Z] It’s gotten so long since December!

[R] Anything for you.

[Z] Anything at all? Promise?

[R] On my life.

[Z] So ... Can we leave then?

[R] Well, that’s actually your call—

[Z] Okay, let’s leave right now!

[R] We’ve been here for only a short while, Fia.

[R] Even less if you count the “restroom break.”

[Z] That was worth it, and no one even noticed.

{Knocking}

[Z] Occupied!

[Z] Anyway, Hannah’s still here. Even Pidge. Et cetera. We can go.

[R] They walked out ten minutes ago—Hannah with Hugo, Margaret following Arthur. All through a servant’s door. Very conspicuous.

[Z] Did they? Huh. So they did.

{Rui laughs}

[Z] Look, if we leave now, it’ll be perfect. It’s barely nine o’clock. We can go back to the city, change clothes, go dancing—!

{Imaginary club music thudding} [Z&R V.O.] Party all night—bet you don’t believe me, but we actually do have good clubs [Rui snickers] or, like, one I like a lot—then I get a cheeseburger—[no pickles]—right! Oh, remember that poor cashier in Nakawe? You sure told him. [“Plain” means plain.] My hero! Anyway, then you carry me and my sore feet to bed. Ideal night.

[Z] You can keep this on, actually. Maybe ditch the jacket.

[R] Undo another button or two?

[Z] Of course. [Soft sigh] You get me.

[Z] The rose is also a must.

[R] It’s for you—a keepsake.

[Z] Aw. Our first appearance and our first Valentine’s Day ...

[R] A sign, probably. Meant to be.

[Z] Romance novel worthy. I’d read it.

[R] The boxes are checked: excitement, fate, many graphic—

[Z] No! Erotic. {Repeats in Armorican} Memorize that one.

{Murmuring}

[R] Do you think I should’ve worn a tie this evening?

[Z] What?

[R] If we were home, obviously not. But, Armorica is ... People here seem to care a lot about unnecessary things. So, was that a misstep?

[Z] {Laughs}

[Z]  Pfft. Hugo didn’t even have his jacket on.

[R] {Scoff} I am not Hugo.

[R] I want to make a good impression—on your family, really. This visit is different. They’re all, for better or worse, paying attention to me.

[Z] Are you kidding? Mission accomplished. [Z] Trust me, they love you! Now, come on, let’s go already—!

[dawn-moths]

can you do #5 with your cause to start a vendetta undertaker (preferably if like the reader has done something she maybe shouldn’t have and the sound of his steps part of it is kind of like foreboding)? thanks :)

oh my gosh yes! i really like the twist on the prompt too!

prompt: recognising the sound of their steps

character: undertaker (kuroshitsuji // cause to start a vendetta)

words: 1800+

content warning: 18+ content, minors dni! daddy kink, reader is called “princess, sweetheart, good girl, doll, brat”, allusion to punishment (non-consensual spanking with a belt).

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

The moment you hear the key turn in the front door, you go running, bolting down the long hallways, nearly slipping a few times as your socked feet struggle to grip the polished, checkerboard marble when you take a turn too fast.

You know he’ll see it first thing when he walks in— the shimmering, shattered shards of black and gold porcelain that belonged to what used to be Undertaker’s favorite teacup and saucer, now reduced to sharp debris scattered across the floor.

And you hadn’t meant to break it, honestly, you really hadn’t.

You’d been walking back to the kitchen to wash it and put it right back in its rightful place in the highest cabinet without him knowing you’d so much as looked at it, let alone actually drank from it.

But you’d been trying to catch the end of an exciting scene playing on tv from the movie you’d been watching, eyes and thoughts elsewhere as your clumsy feet shuffled backward, trying to carry you out of the room to complete your task before you lost track of time and he caught you red handed.

That’s when your heel had caught on the folded edge on one of the rugs, sending you stumbling back and barely catching yourself on the arm of the couch before tumbling backward.

Your blood ran cold the moment you heard the shattering, eyes going wide and your next breath catching in a horrified gasp halfway up your throat. It didn’t matter how terrifyingly slow you turned your head to look over your shoulder at the cause of the bone chilling sound. You already knew the damage was done.

But it wasn’t the fact that you’d broken a teacup that would upset Undertaker on a level severe enough you felt the need to hide. This wasn’t your first absentminded mishap and it certainly wouldn’t be your last.

It was the fact that he’d specifically told you never to use that teacup in the first place and you’d blatantly disobeyed him.

“They’re all so pretty!” you’d exclaimed with awe when he’d first shown you his extensive collection of teacups and mugs and one of a kind blown glass drinkwear that were displayed behind the windowed cabinets above the kitchen sink.

They were custom art pieces that came from all over the world, he’d told you, elaborating on some specific origins of a few you seemed most drawn to.

Your usual favorite was a glossy black and white teacup sculpted with red lycoris flowers, the saucer it was paired with painted over with thin gold streaks to look like it was covered in the most delicate lace.

“You can use any of them you like,” Undertaker had told you, watching your face light up even more, knowing you were already making a mental list of what order you’d drink from them in and with what kind of tea. But then he added, as if suddenly remembering something important, “There’s just one I need you to promise me never to use, alright?”

That’s when he’d brought your attention to the teacup that was now little more than shards, that first memory of seeing it beautifully displayed on the top shelf still crystal clear amidst all the regret and guilt flooding your mind.

“A very special friend gave this to me a long time ago,” he explained as you gazed up at the tempting, off-limits cup. “I only use it on very special occasions, and it would make me very angry if anything ever happened to it. Understand, princess?”

Back then, you’d nodded and sworn never to touch it just like a good girl should, and truly, you would’ve kept that promise if not for the fact that, just that morning, you’d felt like Undertaker had broken a promise he’d made to you.

“But you said we were going out today!” you’d whined, stomping your foot down and clenching your fists, clearly having woken up in a bratty mood. “You said we’d spend the day together! You promised!”

Undertaker had let out an irritated sigh, clearly not having time for your tantrum as he skillfully tied his tie with quick, fluid motions and shrugged on his sleek obsidian coat, replying with a rather curt, “I know, sweetheart. But Daddy has some urgent business to attend to and I’m afraid it can’t wait.” He’d glanced at you over his shoulder, your fit turned to abundant disappointment as you sank back onto the edge of the bed and wore a pout.

“I promise to make it up to you, alright?” he’d said, his voice sounding a little sweeter that time, hoping to coax you at least halfway back to a good mood. “Just be a good girl while I’m away and I’ll have a special surprise for you by the time I get home.”

Against his hopes that that would at least put a tiny grin back on your face and feeling extra defiant, you just crossed your arms and continued to sulk, not even saying goodbye to him as he headed out the bedroom door, calling back to you as he took those long, even strides down the hallway towards the main staircase that he loved you and would be back soon.

So what else were you to do, left to your own devices, than to seek petty revenge by breaking one of his rules?

Only, he had never been meant to find out.

You’d intended to make up for your behavior that morning by putting on a big smile and throwing your arms around him by the time he returned home later that afternoon, amending the fact you hadn’t told him you loved him back and accepting the gift he was bringing home for you graciously.

But now, as the shiny little shopping bag that carried Undertaker’s apology present for abandoning you today hung limply from the tips of his pale fingers, he stood before the carnage of his prized teacup— one of its kind, crafted by a friend long passed— and felt his blood seethe with red hot rage, his brilliant chartreuse eyes wide under the deep scowl of sparse, silvery brows while his jaw worked with the harsh grinding of his back teeth.

The moment you heard his low, stern voice echo out, summoning you by name, you flinched from your hiding place, knowing you were in so much trouble.

And he hadn’t screamed your name, had merely just stated it loud enough for his voice to carry it to wherever you thought you could escape him. That’s how you knew he was truly, utterly pissed.

His rage was a quiet, sure thing, knowing it didn’t have to make a show with cracking shrieks or the heavy stomping of feet up the stairs.

Just like hunting an enemy, Undertaker was hunting you, giving you no indication of how close he was until the last minute, until it would be far too late for you to run any further or seek out a better hiding place.

You pushed yourself to the back of the guest room wardrobe, all of the big fur coats that were being stored there for the summer suffocating you as you clasped a trembling hand over your mouth, squeezing your eyes shut and trying not to breathe, as if he would be able to hear you from your fear alone.

“Sweetheart…!” you heard him call out, closer this time, lurking on the second floor where you both knew it was only a matter of time until he found you. “Come out now and your punishment will be less severe…”

It wasn’t a bargain. It was just a fact. If you weren’t so paralyzed with terror, you might’ve just given in and listened. But you didn’t want to face what was waiting for you, so you remained huddled in the back of the wardrobe behind the curtains of fox and chinchilla and mink.

“Last chance—!” he barked, starting to lose his patience. He was even closer. You felt tears well in your eyes when you heard the guest room door creak open, the flick of a light switch. Only a matter of time now.

“I’m not going to say it again…” His voice was quieter now, the slow, even tapping of his familiar footsteps crawling towards the closet where you curled in on yourself.

He knew he had you. You knew he had you. It was down to seconds now, each step drenching you in a new wave of terror.

Then he sighed and said, “I really wish you would’ve made this easier on both of us, doll,” before swinging the wardrobe doors open and reaching inside, his big, strong hands finding you between the bulky furs and gripping hard as you yelped and scrambled to push yourself further back into the furniture, as if there was anywhere left to go.

Once he had you, he yanked you out and, ignoring your kicking and screaming and frantic sputtering of apologies, tossed you down on the plush guest bed, pinning you on your stomach with his hips as he slowly, almost sinisterly, undid his belt, the silver buckle clacking against itself in warning of what you were about to be put through.

“Please, Daddy! Please—!” you begged, crying harder and feeling your entire body tense under his hold as he hiked your skirt up, shivering when he ran a cold, slender palm over the swell of your ass. “It was an accident! I swear!”

“An accident, huh?” He muttered mockingly, killing you with the anticipation. “I find that hard to believe, given that you would’ve had to have gone out of your way to even reach that cup. So tell me…” His lips were right beside your ear now, his weight bearing down on you as he leaned in close to rhetorically ask, “did a ghost drink tea out of that cup and then smash it? Or are you lying to Daddy, hm?”

All you could manage were more garbled babbles of, “‘M sorry, Daddy! So, so sorry! Please—!”

The snap of the leather belt in his hands made you wince and gasp, shutting you up for the time being. “Don’t worry…” Undertaker cooed condescendingly, pinning you down with a little more pressure. “I’ll forgive you. But only after you’ve made up for being such a disobedient little brat.”

And he would even still let you have the gift he’d brought home for you after all was said and done too, but first, retribution had to be paid in full.

And how ironic, Undertaker thought as he prepared to issue the first lash…

What he’d brought you home had been a teacup you’d pointed out to him just a few weeks ago, its watercolor stroke design that of vibrant purples and greens and blues.

Just like the bruises you’d soon be covered in.

He smirked to himself, gently rubbing the blossoming welts on your tender skin once he’d decided you’d made up for your defiance.

Life imitates art.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

send me a number from this prompt list + one of the characters i write for and i’ll write a short lil something for you 💕

[liquidstar]

I've seen a lot of people in the Re:zero community hate puck with a passion and call him a hypocritical toxic father, and a good portion of them accuse him of deliberately mentally abusing Emilia so that she can be a naive pretty doll with no sense of independence and always obey him unconditionally.

How do you feel about that?

i dont think theyre wrong per say but i also do think puck genuinely loved emilia a lot- i dont think this is something up for debate. he will literally end the world if she dies. but is that what she would want??? i highly doubt it. emilia is a girl who would die for a world that has been nothing but cruel to her.

puck was never really meant to be a father, like, thats not what he was made for. hes the beast of the end not the beast of paternal love. but thats also something about him i find compelling, because he changed so much of himself because he loved this girl so much. his mentality is literally "if anything happens to her ill kill everyone in the world and then myself"

but he does baby her. extremely so. and he does treat her like a doll. remember part of their contract is literally that he does her hair, and thats why she chops off in greed:if as an act of rebellion (normal teen girl behavior honestly). he also literally never told her what sex is- shes 17 and she had no clue, and its played off as a joke at first, but subaru's "damn you puck" rings so true.

remember in wrath:if it was puck who pitched a deal with suabru to keep emilia trapped in the "princess room" away from all the danger. the whole princess room thing (in wrath:if and also in her childhood) is symbolic of her loss of autonomy in a lot of ways, especially when you remember she's NOT a princess. she's a candidate to be a KING!

and there are more damning things within their contract too, like how she literally wasnt allowed to SEE HER OWN FACE! its not made super clear in the anime, but whenever she looks at reflections she actually doesnt see anything back (not because she doesnt have one, but that she herself isnt perceiving it. and i think a lot of this also comes back to the self-recognition theme of the story, the whole reflections though eyes motif and all. remember how much of her we saw reflected only through subaru's eyes? she doesnt actually see her own reflection until she jumps inside the lake in the trial)

but i think thats also a big part of why he broke her contract with her to begin with. i think he knows she hasnt been allowed to grow up, that shes been overly babied, isolated, and kept away from things that might potentially make her feel bad. including her past, and even her present and future... breaking the contract off all at once isnt a good way to do this, i mean, her mental breakdown was so emblematic of that. but i think its important to look at what it all means for the meta narrative.

the latter half of arc 4 was absolutely emilia's arc, and a lot of it was her sort of growing up. i dont think cold turkey is a great way for a parental figure to do this to their child, but emilia was so incredibly dependent. and a lot of that was because puck MADE her dependent to begin with. for so much of her life she literally only had him... like. she was all alone in complete isolation in a frozen forest for as far back as she can remember, and everyone in the world hated her for reasons she didnt understand, and all she had was this little cat thing to be her friend. OF COURSE shes dependent on him, and of course she thinks she cant do stuff on her own (shes so fucking scared of being alone), and i think puck sort of depended on this mindset to keep her a "child" for as long as possible

but she had to grow up eventually. she's 18, maybe almost 19 by this point of the story (still unclear exactly which month we're in) and this is just as much her coming of age story as it is subaru's. (but speaking of subaru puck also guilt trips him quite a bit about emilia's deaths, even when he himself is "gone at the most important times" in emilia's words, which is not only hypocritical but also manipulative!)

all this being said i seriously love puck as a character because when he was first introduced i was like "oh god. annoying mascot character. boring" and then the beast of the end reveal happened and i was like "oh so this is going in the kyubey ripoff direction. i guess that makes sense for a dark fantasy but idrc" BUT THEN he actually ends up being like. an actual character w a lot of depth and nuance to him, a lot of it being how incredibly fucking sketchy he actually is but in a completely different way than just "evil twist mascot." between him and matsumoto from vivy, i love how tappei handles mascot characters- theyre a really hard thing to get right w/o being annoying LOL.

[kawaiichibiart]

New AU idea: Abandoned Doll House

No one knows exactly how long it's been. Some say it's been a few days. Some say it's been years. But if there was one thing they could agree on, was that this one house has been abandoned. As they pass it they see no signs of life, but they can hear things coming from inside.

However, no one can be inside, as the last owner died from old age. And yet the windows and the porch are clean almost every morning. The windows will sometimes be open. A rich aroma will pass by, day after day.

No one should be living in there. And yet many say that they often see a young girl lurking inside. Some say she's hiding out in the house. Some say she's the one who killed the old woman who had lived there. Poisoned her, the rumors say. But to many, she is simply the maid:

Honami was born decades ago. While she wasn't the most well off, she had a steady job as a maid. Sadly, she and the owner of the house both passed away during an unexpected natural disaster (earthquake, tornado, haven't decided yet).

The house was destroyed and the two were found in the rubble. They had both died from a combination of blood loss and blunt force trauma.

To this day, Honami isn't sure why she hasn't moved on, but she's found comfort in the rebuilt house. It saddens her that any help she provides (cleaning, cooking, etc.) often lead people to leave.

As time went by, people began to dump things inside the house. And while Honami loathed the action, she began to care after the many dolls people, usually parents, threw inside.

The first were two porcelain doll statues, Shizuku the Phantom Belle, and Kanade the White Reaper.

Shizuku and Kanade were both sculpted by the same hands. Both were made to look very well known women. Shizuku was modeled after a model, however after it was discovered that the model was hiding things about herself, her popularity dropped. Shizuku was ultimately discarded despite being a popular item. Kanade was modeled after a pianist's daughter. His daughter was deathly ill, and said having Kanade by her bedside felt like having an angel next to her, watching over her. She would pass a month later and her grieving father believed that Made wasn't the angel his daughter claimed her to be, but rather the Grim Reaper. With his beliefs that Kanade would kill him next, he gave her to a couple who insisted on taking the figure he was about to throw away, despite his warnings of her being Death itself. She was passed from person to person, each not taking note of her "curse" until she was eventually dumped into Honami's house alongside Shizuku.

Honami then got her hands on Rui the ----* and Nene the Songstress.

Rui and Nene are a pair. The two were sold together more often than they were sold separately. Both were modeled after characters in a play. Rui was modeled after a reclusive nobleman and Nene was modeled after a duchess. The story was meant to told in three separate shows. However, the story was never finished. The creator of the play had run off with the money they had made from the first two shows, leaving the story to die before resolving anything that had happened. Rui and Nene eventually stopped being sold and made. When they were dumped into Honami's house, it was done by a young man who wanted nothing to do with the dolls he was gifted.

Princess An and Kohane "Little Red Riding Hood" were next to arrive.

Shortly after, the same person who left An and Kohane returned to dump Prince Akito, Squire Shiho and Sword Maiden Ichika.

The five of them are part of a fairytale series. A bookstore thought that they'd have more luck selling books if toys were made to go alongside them, as a way to encourage kids to play out their favorite parts.

That's all I have so far, but other dolls who came together (as an actual set or just at the same time) are:

*Rui's tag was destroyed before he was given to his last owner. Where Nene still has hers in tact, labeling her as the Songstress, Rui's is basically gone, so what his role was is unknown.

About the remaining dolls:

Emu is a clown doll. The idea was to make her cute as possible so kids wouldn't be scared of her, which is why her face is free of any clown makeup, the people who made her doll believed that if her face was normal looking, she'd be more likable.

Mafuyu is nurse doll (obviously). She's mostly made for kids who have to stay in the hospital, newly expecting mothers, or nurses who have graduated from medical school.

Mizuki is basically something like an American Girl Doll. She's a collectors item.

Airi is a mushroom fairy and Ena is a woodland fairy. Both were made to go alongside a movie.

Haruka is a fashion doll (think Barbie) and Minori is a wedding doll/cake topper.

The Tenmas are Hina Dolls (again: obviously). They are also the last ones to arrive.

[honoriotsusuki]

𝐖𝐚𝐥𝐭𝐳

Diluc x Reader (ROYAL AU)

The Midday light shone through the polyester curtains like a moth to flame, kissing the many blankets that lay over her sleeping body, her eyes were shut tight like screws to a wooden doll house, her hair was messy and spread across the pillow like stray thread on the tassels of a a new curtain. Her eyes began to flutter open as the light kissed her cheeks, she yawned and stretched her arms letting the silk nightgown comfortably sit around her body.

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as the blur left her eyes, she slowly slipped out of her bed and delicately placed her feet on the floor walking over to her mirror, she looked into it and looked at her horribly messy hair and shrugged putting on her slippers and opening her door, she was immediately met with yelling and panicking staff who ran around the halls like mice who had been caught, before she could ask she felt hands grip her shoulders like vices as they shook her around. “My lady, why are you not dressed?!” Joel asked, he had been assigned as one of her personal staff when she was young and would run around all day.

“Joel, is something wrong my friend?” She asked, her voice still raspy from her sleep, “Is something wrong?! My lady, are you sick? For this is not a matter to joke about!” He huffed, Y/N pried his arms off of her shoulders and looked at him strictly, “Joel, stop fraying and tell me what has made you this hysteric.” She commanded, Joel sighed and looked up at her. “You’ve woken up four hours before our guests arrive, that's barely enough time to get you ready!” Joel expressed. Y/N looked up at him confused, “Ready for what? Do I not already wake at this time?” She asked, confused. Joel groaned, “Have you truly forgotten my lady?” He asked, “I suppose I have.” Y/N confessed, Joel rolled his eyes and pinched his nose bridge. “Our guests from our fair neighbor Mondstadt, they arrive today for the ball, you are meant to be ready to greet them.” Joel explained. Y/N’s eyes widened as she began to spiral, “Oh dear, has the date come this soon?” She asked in disbelief. “Yes my Lady it has. Now go and get the maids to get you ready, you must look presentable for the Ragnvindrs.

Y/N sighed and closed her door, she was hoping she could just run away for one day avoid her responsibilities, it could all just dissolve and leave her for one day and let her rest, she would be eternally grateful to the lord of anemo, she would serve him all of her measly life if he gave her one day to rest, one day to relax and be free.

However as hard as she prayed that was not her fate, her fate was to be a princess, a princess with no control over what she would do as that fell to her parents, she just hoped this would not be the day that their mercy runs out, that they decide to shackle her to a prince who she does not wish to be with. For a fate without freedom was a fate worse than death.

As the hours flew by she was pulled around the castle by staff, insisting on her attire, how she should greet them and the most official posture she should use. She never understood the manners she was meant to show, of course she knew her basic manners, say please and thank you, always be polite to hosts, take your shoes off upon arriving in a home. However she never understood the rules she was made to follow, using the correct fork or her posture. How could her posture show how she felt? It was all so confusing.

The dress she ended up wearing was actually rather nice, the Maids had to show her over thirty different dresses until she agreed on what to wear, either it was too itchy or far too big, she was never one for poofy dresses, as they made it so she would have to lean down to get something from a table so her dress would not hit against it.

She felt bad for her maids as they were just doing their job, she would talk to her parents about giving them a bonus on this month's check because of this fiasco. Once everything was finally finished there was only thirty minutes until the family arrived, she sat in her throne uncomfortably as it offered no comfort, why not add cushions on the idiotic gold chairs? They were far too showboaty for her taste and made her feel as if she was yertle the turtle.

Her parents sat in the chairs on each side of her, their chairs were taller than hers making her look tiny, she hated it. She hated how they looked so stoic and silent, she always empathized with her mother the most. After all, she was forced into a marriage she couldn't stand and was forced to bear children, that's why their relationship was so strained, she couldn't blame her mother. If she was forced to have a child she would feel apathetic to it as well. And her father was far worse, it felt as if any time she looked away he judged her, prying his eyes deep into her skin like an angry shark.

“Y/N shall you drape such clothing around your body?” Her father asked, venom in his voice that seeped into her like a viper. “Fritz, you speak venom and blasphemy, let the poor girl wear her dress.” Her mother bit back at her father, her mother would defend her occasionally, though she acted cold she always had moments of kindness towards her. “Romi tape your mouth shut, for this does not require your presence.” Her father seethed looking over at her mother, Romi didn't even flinch, she had gotten used to his rude tones and awful attitude. Y/N sighed as she sank into the chair, it always seemed so hopeless to try and stop their arguments, they would start back up again, what was the point.

Suddenly the doors to the throne room opened, Y/N looked up to see a group of three men walking in, the tallest was a man with bright red hair, King Crepus. She had heard of his endeavors in his kingdom, truly honorable. Beside him were two boys, one was the spitting image of Crepus, just slightly younger and less smiley, the other was the exact opposite. He had dark skin and dark blue hair, and he wore a sly smile. It was odd, were they siblings? Y/N had always wanted a sibling, but her parents only needed one heir so it was never even a thought.

“King Heinrich, I am humbled at the sight of your palace, it is an honor to bask in your presence my lord..” Crepus spoke smoothly, kneeling down. Fritz put out his hand, “Sir, please call me by my first name, my honor is not to bespoke thee.” Fritz spoke, Y/N huffed silently, he wore his honor like a badge, he was just showing off. Crepus smiled and got off his knee, “my sons, Keaya and Diluc.” Crepus signaled to the two boys behind him, they both bowed. Fritz nodded and moved his hand to point towards Y/N. “Y/N my child.” Fritz introduced her, she felt her cheeks heat up like she had hot coals inside them, her father only ever spoke so kindly in the presence of a guest. Y/N knew it improper but she wished he would show his impish language to the guests, show the horrors that lie beneath the mask of king Fritz.

Y/N nodded and got up, giving the guests a small curtsy before sitting back down on the uncomfortable throne, it hurt her back to sit. She never understood how her mother was able to bear sitting on these chairs all day, as her mothers chair had even less cushioning than hers. Her fathers chair was comfortable, it had a pillow slung on every side. Whenever Y/N asked why their chairs were so much worse her father would always give the same response,

“Quiet child, be grateful for your gold and jewels, for you have no choice in this matter, you are the same as the woman who brought you into this world, ungrateful and hysterical.”

She despised the man that called himself her father, he was nowhere close to being her father. After the greetings had finished Y/N got up and excused herself to her room, she wished not to be part of the festivities and food, for it only brought more sadness to her heart. She stayed in her room, sitting on the balcony and watching as the sun moved through the sky like a shattered clock.

She was knocked out of her trance as she heard a small knock on the door, she slowly got up and found her mother waiting on the other side. For the first time in Y/N’s life she saw her mother as her- well as her mother, not as a looming figure of perfection or an acquaintance, but her mother. “Mother I implore thy words why are you at my chamber door?” Y/N asked, her voice still hoarse from her weeping. Romi looked at the girl with a sympathetic frown. “My dear i am sorry for the odd arguments that took place today. I wish you were not there when we fought.” Romi sighed, Y/N frowned and looked away, straying away from her mothers sympathetic gaze. “This is far from the first time I have seen you and father fight. However it seems you are always far too entranced in each other's faults to notice I sit right in front of you.” Y/N spoke coldly. Romi sighed and cupped her daughter's cheek with a smile, “My dear i can not imagine the things i must make up for, but please, come down and join us in the ballroom. Try to make some friends my love.” She sighed, kissing Y/N on her forehead.

Y/N was conflicted, on one hand her mother had just shown her genuine affection, something her soul craved beyond no other, but her head was yelling at her to contain her anger, to not give into forgiveness, it was a complicated feeling. Nonetheless Y/N nodded and softly shut the door on her mother, she fixed herself up and walked down to the ballroom.

It was full to the brim of dancing men and women, twirling and turning in a beautiful pattern like the cogs of an eternally functioning machine. Y/N sighed and stepped down the stairs, she could feel some eyes that had drawn towards her. She had long gotten used to the stares of judgment from others, however she still hated them. The glares and comments of children never fully left her. Being part of a royal family came with issues such as being associated with any sort of drama. It was exhausting.

As her foot finally stepped over the last step she felt her shoes come in contact with the hard cold ballroom floor, she took a deep breath and quietly made her way to the corner of the room, she was attempting to strengthen her relationship with her mother, her mother never said anything about staying in corners. Y/N sighed as she stepped onto one of the hidden balconies of the ballroom hidden behind the large intimidating curtains. It was nighttime now, it was beautiful, the lower down you were in the city the more underwhelming the nights would be, barely able to see stars and planets, but from the high altitude of the castle you could see it all, it was always so mesmerizing. Joel used to tell her tales of her childhood when she would sneak out of her room after her bedtime and marvel at the stars above. She had always felt an obsession with them, how could she not? They were wondrous.

She heard the clacking of dress shoes behind her and whipped her head around, she looked back and was shocked to see Prince Diluc, well there goes her relaxed time. “You don't like parties either, I take it?” He asked, Y/N looked over at him with shock, his voice was so… casual. She was always spoken to like it was a riddle, and she spoke back in turn. It was so refreshing to hear a regular sentence. “I've never liked them, they make me feel like I've caught a cold.” Y/N sighed. Diluc chuckled and stood beside her resting his elbows on the banister.

“Your father seems upset.” Diluc mused, Y/N chuckled. He was good at hiding it in front of guests. “He's probably not too pleased that i'm not in there with him, he never liked me being too far.” Y/N sighed in annoyance, her fathers overprotectiveness came off as charming to most people, but to her it was a vice, just another negative trait of his that she could add to the pile.

“I'm sorry he likes that.” Diluc sighed, there wasn't much he could say, after all words could only bandage so many wounds. “It's not your fault.” Y/N sighed looking over at the red head. The two sat in silence for a while as they looked at the stars.

“What is it like in Mondstadt?” Y/N asked abruptly. Diluc thought for a moment as he stared at the skies above, “It's peaceful, free, calm. It feels like home even if you've never been there.” Diluc explains, Y/N nods and pictures the land Diluc described in her mind. “It sounds amazing…” She sighs dreamily watching the stars.

“Yeah you are.” As the words left Dilucs mouth he looked away in embarrassment, “Hmm? What did you say?” Y/N asks, snapping out of her daze, “I-uh- I said, yeah it's pretty amazing!” He sputtered out words in a panic, Y/N looked towards him and chuckled. “Maybe you could take me there someday.” She asked, looking towards him. “Yeah, that would be nice.” He sighed.

Y/N peered back into the ballroom and noticed that the group inside had begun the waltz, a small lightbulb went off in her head as she extended her hand to Diluc, “Hey, wanna dance?” She asked, he looked at her with a flushed face. He pretended to cough as he cleared his face and took her hand. “That would be lovely.” He responded happily.

Y/N dragged him into the ballroom as the two danced, one foot in front of the other as they swayed back and forth like pieces on a music box, as they danced away they felt right, at peace together as they swayed. Y/N looked up into his eyes only to notice he had been staring, they both looked away in embarrassment, it was nice. Just the two of them moving back and forth.

For once Y/N couldn't feel the eyes prying into her back, it didn't matter if she didn't care or if they were really gone, she felt happy, for the first time in ages, she felt happy! Is this what being a princess was meant to feel like? If so, she felt cheated, she could stay in the cycle forever, moving back and forth with the prince as he giggled and blushed. She felt so happy, so…right.

Word count: 2611

I actually kind of hate this, but I needed to post something.

[astra-galaxie]

hi i know i already asked for one of them before but ★☆✿♡♥☮▼ൠ for karen and frank cus i LOVE ur hcs sm i swearrr <333 thank you :D

No worries! You can ask for whoever you want when I’m doing headcanon prompts, even if I’ve done them before with past ones!🙂

Happy to hear you love my HCs! Hopefully, you’ll love these as much as the last ones!

Karen:

★ - sad headcanon

After she and Frank divorced, Karen kept her engagement and wedding rings in a special jewelry box. She had considered getting rid of them, but even in the middle of her grief and sadness, she couldn’t bear to part with them. But she also couldn't bring herself to continue wearing them, so she got a small jewelry box for them. And if that jewelry box happened to be turtle-themed because it reminded her of Frank and his love of turtles, well, that’s just a coincidence…

☆ - happy headcanon

When Karen finds out she is pregnant, both times, she tells Frank by getting him a donut with the word “Daddy!” frosted on it. The first time, Frank thought it was Karen trying to be kinky or something, but when he realized what it actually meant, he was overjoyed! The second time, he immediately knew what the donut meant when he saw the word and wasted no time proclaiming his excitement.

Donuts are a little inside joke the couple has. Karen kept teasing Frank that he would be eating a lot of donuts after he graduated from the police academy, and she buys some occasionally for them to share. While Frank doesn’t eat a stereotypical amount of donuts, he enjoys the joke he shares with Karen and later gets to share with their daughters.

♥ - family headcanon

Karen has always wanted to have kids and start a family of her own. But she hated how people expected it from her just because she was a woman. She had boyfriends in the past who expected her to become a stay-at-home mom, but Karen didn’t want to give up her career, at least not permanently. That’s one thing she loves most about Frank; he never once suggested that she quit her job to raise their kids after she found out she was pregnant. He knows how smart she is and the good work she is doing at Meteor Systems. Just because they hadn’t kids didn’t seem like a reason to him for her to give that all up!

Even when Karen decided to put her career on pause for a few years to focus on her family, Frank suggested she consider working from home if she wanted to spend more time with their daughters. Caring for two babies/toddlers while also working was challenging, but Karen and Frank found resources to make her life easier. And Frank always offered to watch the girls when he wasn’t working so that Karen could take a break or catch up on her work.

☮ - friendship headcanon

Karen is a loyal friend who will always have her friends’ backs when they need her. Whether good or bad, Karen will always be there for her friends. She’s helped her friends through failed relationships and hyped them up when they got promoted. She doesn't put her friends down and always tries to keep their confidence high.

And if you hurt one of her friends, you better watch your back! Karen is resourceful and will use her connections to avenge her friend. She once made several fake ads and put a friend’s cheating ex’s phone number on them so that people would constantly be calling them about things for sale, from cookies to cars! The calls got so bad the ex needed to get a new number and never found out that Karen was the one who got them bombarded by people all across Pacific Bay.

▼ - childhood headcanon

As a child, Karen loved fairy tales and dressing up as her favourite princesses. Eventually, she outgrew this obsession, but the stories she read as a child always held a special place in her heart. When her daughters were born, fairytales were the first stories she read to them before bed. Even if she was an adult, that didn’t mean she couldn't play dolls with her daughters or dress up with them to recreate scenes from their books. It was extra fun because Frank liked to play along with them and call Karen his queen while she would tease him, saying he was her knight in shining armour (or a Hawaiian shirt!).

ൠ - random headcanon

She’s run a marathon before. While she wasn’t the winner or even in the top ten, seeing the pride and happiness on Frank’s face as she crossed the finish line made Karen feel like she was on top of the world.

Frank:

★ - sad headcanon

When Frank found out Daisy was in a coma due to meningitis, he was beyond devastated. He already lost one daughter, and he couldn't believe he was going to lose his other one before he had the chance to reconnect with her. When Karen brought him to Daisy’s hospital room for the first time, he had to force himself into the room to see her. It was heartbreaking to see his little girl hooked up to the life support machine, and it felt like he was in Laura’s hospital room, watching her die all over again. But this time, it was Daisy who he was losing.

Unable to help his daughter, Frank would visit Daisy and talk to her as she slept. Most of the time, Karen would be with him for support, but when she had to work on her heist plans, it would just be the father and daughter for a while. During these visits, Frank would bring Daisy’s favourite storybook, The Glass Princess, and read it to her. Sometimes, he would pretend that he was reading it to her so that she would fall asleep and that in the morning, Daisy would wake up, and he could tell her how much he loved her. But no matter how many times he read the fairytale, this was a curse Daisy would never wake up from…

☆ - happy headcanon

Frank's turtle, Duke, was a rescue from a case he worked on. The PBPD had arrested an animal poacher in Bayou Blue, and Duke was one of the animals they saved. Frank instantly fell in love with the turtle and adopted him as soon as the Veterinarian gave him the go-ahead. He loves his little buddy and learned everything about turtles to keep Duke safe, happy and healthy. This led to some teasing from his coworkers and an ever-growing collection of turtle-themed gifts from friends and family. Still, Frank secretly enjoys them, even if he’ll roll his eyes and grumble at receiving another turtle-themed Hawaiian shirt.

(His favourite gift was from Harvey Fitchner. It was a set of matching Hawaiian shirts, one for Frank and one for Duke.)

♥ - family headcanon

Frank was nervous about becoming a dad for the first time. He was scared that he would mess things up and his kids would hate him. He read parenting books, asked other fathers for advice, and even attended classes with Karen. But nothing could calm his nerves as he worried about being a horrible father before he was even officially one. Karen tried to help him see that he would be a good father but even her encouragement didn’t do much to reassure him.

But when Laura was born, and he held her for the first time, Frank realized that nothing would truly prepare him for this new chapter of his life. Sure, he could get advice and read books, but those people and authors didn’t know Laura and who she would be. Maybe he would mess up sometimes but what’s life without a little mess? This baby, who was only a few hours old, was already smiling at him like he had hung the stars in the sky, and she didn’t even know him! Frank knows he’ll make mistakes, but as he rocked Laura to sleep for the first time, he vowed to learn from every mistake he made so that he would become the father she (and later Daisy) deserved.

☮ - friendship headcanon

Like Karen, Frank is a loyal friend. However, one of his faults is that he doesn’t have the best memory and tends to forget things like birthdays and anniversaries… But that doesn’t mean he’ll forget when a friend invites him over to watch a game or out for drinks! He always tries to attend important things in his friends' lives, like weddings, birthday pirates (even if he has to scramble for a last-minute gift), or special celebrations. And if he can’t make it, he’ll be sure to message his friend(s) to apologize and let them know he’ll be at the next get-together.

▼ - childhood headcanon

Frank was one of the kids who liked to play rough with others, though he could be gentle when he wanted to be. When playing, he and his friends gave each other countless cuts, bruises, and scratches, but no injury was intentional. But they did tone down the roughhousing when one of them accidentally fell out of a tree and broke their arm. After that, the kids were more mindful of the dangers their games could cause.

ൠ - random headcanon

Once, he tried making whiskey himself. The results were… Bad, to put it nicely. While you could technically consume it, you would immediately spit it out. And if you managed to swallow, you would probably throw up or find yourself on the toilet shortly thereafter!

(Frank was banned from making homemade alcohol of any kind after this attempt.)

Given their nature, I combined a couple of prompts. I hope it's alright that I did a couple at two for the price of one!

Karen and Frank:

✿ - Sex headcanon

Frank and Karen have always had a good sex life. It was built on consent and learning each other's preferences so that both would be pleasured. They can have their kinky moments, but they always ensure the other is comfortable with trying something new. They have safewords for these types of times and always honour the promise to stop when a safeword is spoken. They also had some embarrassing moments when trying out a new position or kink, but like all of their intimate times, it stays between them.

♡ - romantic headcanon

Frank proposed to Karen after recreating their first date. He took her to the restaurant where they had eaten, and they ordered their favourite food plus dessert. He changed it up a little by taking her to Paradise City so they could visit their favourite casino to gamble a little. Frank loves watching Karen clean house at the poker table, and after cashing out their winnings, Frank brings her to watch a fireworks show. As the explosions of light lit up the sky, Frank got down on one knee behind Karen, calling her name as he took out the ring.

Karen was shocked when she saw him on his knee and holding a beautiful ring. Before asking the burning question, Frank poured his love out to Karen, telling her how much she meant to him and how better his life had been since she came into it. He told her of the future he wanted to have with her, from the house they always dreamed of having to the beautiful children they would raise. When he finally asked if she would marry him, Karen said yes through tears of joy. As the couple kissed and Frank slipped the ring on Karen’s finger, the last firework shot into the sky: a bright red heart.

(Frank had a friend who worked on the show who owed him a favour.)

And there are my headcanons for Karen and Frank! Thanks for the request, Fluffy! Enjoy my latest contribution to KarenXFrank!

[winchesterszvonecek]

I See Red 18+

Chapter 17 - Maybe You Should Just Go

Word Count: 8442

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Growing up, Selina wasn’t what you would describe as a stereotypical little girl. She wasn’t obsessed with princesses or fairy tales. She didn’t play with babies or dolls — unless Dean’s army men counted, as when it came to toys, that was the only one John ever allowed her to actually play with.

It wasn’t until she started staying at Bobby’s did Selina even find out that Barbie dolls were a thing as he’d offered to go out and buy her one if it meant she got a chance at a normal childhood. But by then she was too far gone, and instead asked him to teach her the basics of hunting, which at first Bobby wasn’t too fussed about doing given her age, but after finding out that Selina would often cry herself to sleep any time John told her that ‘little girls don’t hunt’ then continuously yelled at her to stop asking, he was a lot more inclined to do so if it meant she wouldn’t have to go through that again. 

Funny how John would tell her little girls didn’t hunt yet anytime she tried to act like one, he’d shut it down almost instantly. Hell, at one time he’d thrown her stuffed rabbit out the car window because he said it looked “too girly”, and to this day it still broke Selina’s heart to think about her bunny lying all alone on the highway, getting splashed by passing cars and left to wonder why she’d abandoned him.

To tell the truth, John didn’t even let Selina experience looking like a little girl, let alone anything else remotely similar. 

Any time her hair would get too long, and by too long she means shoulder length, John would cut it until it resembled something like Dean’s, despite the fact that Selina would cry and beg him not to until she was literally hoarse. Even her wardrobe consisted of Dean’s old clothes, all of which were either too big for her or had holes in the neckline from where he used to chew on them, and because of that, for the majority of her childhood Selina would often get mistaken for a boy. 

However, she was never allowed to say anything about it, not when she knew what John would do to her if she did. 

Selina had learned the hard way about how far John was willing to go in denying her her childhood when she’d been brave enough to ask him if he’d get her a new stuffed toy to sleep with at night. She hadn’t realised then that it was the anniversary of Mary’s death and that John had been drinking, meaning that instead of a simple answer to her question, he hit her. 

And that wasn’t the only time he’d raised his hands to her either. She’d never forget the day Bobby saw the bruises and asked her what happened, to which she broke down in tears as she told him, and the second John showed up to collect her, Bobby pulled his gun on him. Obviously he didn’t shoot him, despite how much he wished he could, but that was the last time he ever saw John, and the last time he saw Selina until about six years later, when she’d just turned eighteen and had had enough of John's tyranny over her. 

By then her style was fully set in stone, and whilst it may have been a case of she still preferred shopping in the men’s section as to the woman’s, she didn’t overly mind because at least then she got a choice. Even to this day her style remained the same as it was, with some slight difference in that she was a little more gothic now and often liked to show off her assets whenever she could by wearing stuff that was a tad bit too small for her. 

However, there was one thing that changed more drastically than anything else, and that was, her hair. When Selina left she finally got the chance to get rid of the blonde that she couldn’t help but think was the reason behind John’s behaviour towards her. She finally got the chance to grow her hair out to any length she wanted and to experience what it felt like to have long, luscious locks. 

And no matter the circumstances, or how much blood ended up caked in it after a hunt, she never ever cut it any shorter than just above her waist. 

The day she dyed it was the day she knew she was free and since then Selina had grown to finally love her hair and how it made her feel about herself, so you can only imagine how broken she must feel now that it was no longer down to her waist and instead rested just above her shoulders. 

She’d never be forgiving Dean for being the reason she had to do this. Had it not been for him and his idiotic attempt at trying to break the world record of blowing the largest bubblegum bubble possible, then she never would have had to cut it. 

It didn’t help that it was her time of the month either, meaning every time she so much as thought about what had happened she’d start crying, only making Dean avoid her even more. Not that she cared, she was pissed at him so it was probably best he stay away from her for a little while, otherwise he may end up bald. 

“Many theorists believe that Mary Jane Kelly was Jack The Ripper's intended target due to the extensive way in which he mutilated her corpse.” 

“Maybe she forced him to have to cut his hair and that’s why he killed her.” Selina mumbled under her breath as she sat in front of her partially broken mirror, staring at herself and still feeling such intense anger boiling in her veins that not even a podcast about her favourite unsolved mystery seemed to be able to help simmer it.  

For the past hour she’d been trying to figure out some way to style her hair now that the majority of her curls had been cut off, leaving her with lifeless, limp waves that barely had any definition and made her want to become a bit like old Jack and go on a murder spree, which would be unlucky for Sam as he just so happened to knock on Selina’s door right as she fought with the urge to rip her hair out at root. 

“Cat, can I come in?” Sam called warily through the door, remaining patient until Selina had gathered her emotions enough to allow herself to be seen by others. 

“As long as he isn't with you.” Selina called back, sighing a little as she closed her eyes and wished she’d never decided to leave her room yesterday as maybe then this never would have happened. 

“He isn’t.” Sam replied, slowly turning the handle and pushing the door open just a crack in order to peer inside and make sure it was truly safe for him to enter. And it was, as Selina hadn’t even turned around from where she sat at her vanity, her chin resting in her hands to the point where her cheeks were a little smushed as she did nothing but stare sadly at herself, making Sam’s face soften as he stepped inside and said, “He didn’t do it on purpose, Cat… He knows how much having long hair means to you.” 

“I know,” Selina sighed defeatedly, dragging her hand down her face to the point where it stretched out her skin with how much pressure she used. She sucked in a breath, doing her best to ignore how it trembled as she slowly turned around to face her twin, her voice breaking gently as she added, “It just brings back memories, you know?”

“I know,” Sam said softly, stepping further into the room as he could tell by the way that Selina’s shoulders were slouched, that she was just upset. Had she been truly angry, then they would have been high and tight, leading him to believe that her anger had been nothing more than a facade to try and stop those memories flooding back. “And I know it won’t make you feel any better but… It’ll grow back.” 

“Yeah.” Selina half-assedly agreed, whether or not she meant it, Sam didn’t know. And frankly, neither did she.

But Sam did know enough to leave it be before he pushed her back towards anger, therefore he stayed silent as he watched Selina reach over to pause her podcast, before once again sighing in defeat as she left her hair hanging loose over her shoulders and stood up. 

“If you’re up for it, we think we might have found a case.” Sam said carefully, as any mention of Dean might push her over the edge. Selina showed no signs of her mood changing though, and instead reached around him to grab her hoodie, and so he continued, “It’s local, about twenty minutes from here. Some guy claims he and his friend were attacked by an invisible creature who then proceeded to stalk them through the woods before they managed to reach their car and escape.” 

“Sounds riveting.” Selina mumbled through the fabric of her hoodie as she threw it over her head and pulled it down over her torso, opting to keep the hood firmly up in an attempt to hide her hair. “Also sounds like a hellhound.” 

“That’s what we’re thinking too, but the thing is, I don’t think either of them sold their souls.” Sam told her, folding his arms across his chest as he watched Selina pick up Kit and proceed to smother him in kisses, indicating she wasn’t about to ask him why and that he should know by now to expand on what he meant without further encouragement. “For starters, they’re both nineteen. How many nine year olds do you know who’ve sold their souls?” 

“I’m sure there’s a few.” Selina mumbled, tilting her head to the side and allowing Kit to rub the top of his over her cheek. She then glanced up, spotting the subtle frown on Sam’s face over her answer, and so she sighed, “but I get your point. It seems strange that a hellhound would go after someone if they didn’t sign on the dotted line.”

“Exactly.” 

“I guess I can ask Crowley, see if he can share any insight before we go wasting our time.” 

That’s when Sam knew Selina was truly down as she never, ever referred to investigating, or any other part of hunting, as ‘wasting time’ and he’d once seen her drive across the country for less. However, he said nothing, knowing that the less people pointed out his sister's moods, the more likely they were not to last. 

Setting Kit down on her bed, Selina reached for her phone and opened up her text thread with Crowley, making sure to hide it from Sam as the last thing she’d sent Crowley had been a spicy-ish picture of herself and there’d be no explaining that to her brother without exposing their relationship. 

“Wouldn’t it be quicker to call him?” Sam asked, his eyes narrowing a little in suspicion when Selina simply pressed her lips together and tilted her phone screen closer to her chest as she glanced up at him. 

“Probably,” she replied, playing it as casual as she could bring herself to do given her mood. She knew Sam was right, it would be quicker, but calling Crowley without informing him first would only bring the risk of him saying something he shouldn’t, and she just couldn’t take that chance. “But you know how he is… He likes to talk and I’m not in the mood.” 

A lie. He was the only person she was in the mood to talk to, but she couldn’t exactly tell Sam that. Or have that conversation in front of him. 

“Texting is easier,” Selina finished, and Sam nodded in agreement as she had a point. She flashed him a quick, thin-lipped smile before dropping her head and letting out a slow, quiet sigh of relief as she typed away. 

Selina: Hey, we caught a case in the area that seems hellhound-y… Do you know anything about it or should we go investigate?

Instantly, those three grey dots that could make Selina’s day no matter the circumstances popped up on her screen, warming her heart immensely and in a way that was so greatly needed after the past few days that it was almost enough to make what had happened to her nothing more than a distant memory.

The dots appeared for a few more seconds before finally, ding.  

Crowley: He’s busy ;) 

And just like that, Selina’s heart sank right to the floor. 

“Well?” Sam questioned, only it went completely unheard by Selina, whose face appeared to have fallen more than it had done when she realised she’d have to cut her hair. 

Only Sam didn’t seem to notice that. He was too busy greeting Kit to pick up on it, or the way his sister’s chest was moving much more rapidly than it had been a second ago. The only thing he did notice was the sudden presence of silence, causing him to glance over at her and give Selina a quick nudge to try and bring her back to reality. 

And it did. That sudden touch snapped Selina clean out of the trance where she couldn’t help but think her whole life was falling apart piece by piece. She shook her head and looked up, doing her best to forget about the two words on screen that had better be Crowley messing with her and not what she thought it was otherwise he would be seeing a side of her no one had ever seen before.

“Sorry, what?” Selina babbled out, her eyes narrowed as she seemed to recall hearing Sam’s voice, yet it appeared as though her brain hadn’t taken in his words.  

“What did it say? The text from Crowley?” Sam asked again, simply chalking her behaviour up to what had happened previously as he had no other reason to suspect that as each passing second ticked by, Selina’s heart was slowly constricting in her chest. 

“Oh,” Selina exhaled, running her hand over her stomach that was currently churning inside her. “That uh, that wasn’t him. Just Alex. Complaining that Claire stole her sweater.” 

“Sounds about right.” Sam chuckled, giving Kit one last scratch between the ears before he stepped away, once again folding his arms over his chest. “We’ll probably check it out anyway, you coming with?” 

“Uh, yeah,” Selina nodded, despite not wanting to move from this spot before she got answers as to what the fuck Crowley was playing at. “Just, uh… Just give me a minute and I’ll meet you outside.” 

“Alright,” Sam said, then he spun on his heels and left the room. 

Before the door even clicked shut behind him Selina had already dialled Crowley’s number and pressed the phone to her ear, not-so-patiently waiting for him to pick up and with each ring that echoed through her ear she grew more and more impatient. 

Then suddenly, ding.  

Dropping the phone instantly, Selina could feel the rage bubbling away inside of her at the sight of another text from Crowley. Or rather, another text from someone who wasn’t Crowley, but was apparently with him doing God knows what. 

Crowley: I would pick up but… I don’t think you’d want to hear the sounds I’m making. I mean, Crowley sure is good with his fingers but they’re nothing compared to his tongue ;) 

Oh, Selina was not in the mood for this today and with such haste she slammed her thumb on the call button again, this time a lot harder and to the point where it might have hurt had she been able to feel anything but the wrath that was boiling in her veins. Just because she and Crowley weren’t outwardly official and hadn’t exactly labelled their relationship didn’t mean he was free to just go off and ignore the basic rules of monogamy.

Sure, they’d never had that conversation before but it was just common decency not to sleep around when you’re clearly dating someone else, right? Demon or not she would expect Crowley to know that, and if this wasn’t him, or anyone else, messing with her, then she wasn’t quite sure what she would do. 

Selina: Crowley, this isn’t funny. Pick up the phone or I swear to God we are done. 

Crowley: Your loss. My gain ;) 

Oh, if Selina had to see that winky face emoji one more time she was going to put her head through a wall. Taking a deep breath she lowered the phone, trying to think of a perfectly reasonable explanation for all of this, like maybe someone had found out about them and stolen his phone in an attempt to break them up. Only, that didn’t seem particularly likely as Crowley never let his phone out of his sight when he wasn’t with Selina, not since he’d changed his background to a picture of her anyway. 

Although, for all she knew he could easily change it every time he left her. But he wouldn’t? Would he? That just seemed like a lot of effort, and all for nothing as it’s not like she needed to be his lockscreen in order to know that he cared for her, not when anytime they were together he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world.  

Or did he? Maybe she’d been imagining that in the love induced trance she fell into any time he was around. And now she couldn’t even think back to the last time he’d looked at her as every time she tried, she only ended up picturing Crowley with some other girl and it just made her heart break that much more. 

There she’d been, worrying herself sick over the idea that they’d never be able to come out as a couple and yet she hadn’t even considered the possibility that Crowley might cheat on her. After all, why would she? Like she’d said, he often made it exponentially clear that he only had eyes for her so she never, ever would have thought he’d give her up so easily and crush her very being like this. 

Yet here he was. Or rather here someone was, destroying every ounce of trust she’d ever placed in him in the span of a few seconds. And the worst few seconds possible too. 

Selina: Crowley, I’m serious. I can’t take this today, please call me. 

Barely a second after Selina sent that message Crowley called her, but by then, despite the short period of time in between, she wasn’t sure whether she could actually stomach picking up the phone. She had no idea who, or what, she would hear on the other end and she was already feeling so incredibly fragile that even the slightest hint towards infidelity might push her past her breaking point. 

And so, going against everything her heart was telling her and instead listening to her head, Selina declined the call and shoved her phone into her pocket — as well as shoving her emotions deep down inside of her to join those she never let rear their ugly heads in order to be able to focus on whatever this case was and pray that it didn’t involve her having to get in touch with Crowley.

She’d deal with him at some point but right now, she just couldn’t handle it . 

After telling Kit to behave whilst they were gone Selina left her room, having not bothered to change out of her sweats and hoodie even when she knew they were more than likely going to have to play a roll. But she wasn’t in the mood to play dress-up. Hell, she wasn’t even in the mood to want to go on this case as chances are it was demon-related, but she’d already told Sam she’d be joining them and if she changed her mind he’d only ask questions and she really didn’t want to have to deal with that. 

All she could do was suck it up and pretend as though her whole world wasn’t slowly crumbling beneath her — which was easier said than done but with Selina’s experience in doing exactly that, she was confident she’d manage. 

Hopefully. 

Nevertheless, she carried on through the bunker’s hallway, hearing the faint sound of Dean rambling on about something or another, and the closer she got to the War Room, the more she could make out what he was so adamantly arguing with Sam about. 

“Look, all I’m saying is that we don’t know that one of these guys didn’t sell their soul.” 

“Dean, ten years ago they were nine.” Sam defended, just as Selina slipped into the room unnoticed — by Dean anyway, who would get the shock of his life when he turned around as he hadn’t seen Selina since yesterday morning when the incident, as they were calling it, occurred.

“So? Nine year olds have souls. Maybe there was a kickass skateboard he really wanted. Or a new hot wheels collection, who knows?” Dean said with a shrug, and in his own mind he was making a valid point. Kids made deals all the time, so he wasn’t sure why this would be any different. 

“Did you two even bother to look into these guys before you started arguing?” Selina asked, her sudden appearance causing Dean to jump and jolt away from where he was standing, turning to face her as though he were now scared to stand with his back to her. 

“I did,” Sam replied, stepping forward just in case he needed to get between anything. “There was nothing out of the ordinary.” 

“Well, there you have it,” Selina exhaled, unfolding her arms and extending them a little into the air before they dropped lazily back to her sides. “Shall we go?” 

“Hold on,” Dean said, stopping Selina in her tracks as she headed for the stairs. “Did you hear anything back from Crowley?” 

For a brief second, Selina’s jaw tightened and the beating of her heart increased rapidly. She should have known they’d ask her that, yet she hadn’t fully prepared herself to hear it, or come up with a plausible reason as to why she didn’t want to try Crowley again. She swallowed thickly, forcing down the lump that was slowly rising in her throat as she briefly shook her head in response. 

“Do you maybe wanna try him again?” Dean asked carefully, as he didn’t want to come across as pushy after what happened. 

“No.” Selina snapped, rather harshly even despite the current circumstances, which only earned her two pairs of partially widened eyes in response. “Can we go now? I’d really like to kill something.” 

Selina didn’t even bother waiting for a response from her brothers as she knew it would be them asking a) if she was okay and b) if Crowley had done something to her to make her not want to talk to him. Instead, she simply grabbed the car keys from where they sat atop Dean’s jacket, then headed for the stairs.

“Oh no, she is not driving my car.” Dean mumbled, and hurried off after her, to which Sam then followed swiftly behind as chances are he would have to step in and stop World War Three — although at this point it was probably World War One Hundred and Three as he couldn’t count how many times he’d had to come between his siblings during their petty arguments. 

Surprisingly though, nothing happened and by the time he reached the car, just seconds after Dean, Selina was already slumped in the backseat and it was clear she had no intentions of wanting to drive. Just as well, honestly, as with her mood, chances are she’d have driven them head first into the nearest brick wall. 

Upon arriving outside the home of those who were allegedly attacked by something invisible, the first thing the Winchester siblings did was open the trunk. If this really was a hellhound then chances are it had gone rogue, meaning it would need to be put down before it killed someone. In order to do that though, they needed to be able to see it first, which is exactly why the only thing they grabbed from the trunk was a pair glasses, all of which had been blessed by holy fire and allowed them to see the hellish mutts that had once made their own lives miserable. 

“So how are we doing this?” Dean asked, slamming the trunk shut before placing a pair of black rimmed, Clark Kent wannabe looking glasses on his face. “FBI? Fish and Wildlife? Animal Control? What?”

“I don’t know, Animal Control maybe. Might seem more plausible,” Sam replied, although he seemed hesitant. He then turned to his side, glancing towards Selina before he asked, “what do you think?” 

“I don’t care,” Selina exhaled, pushing herself off the car and ignoring the furrowed brows of her brothers that were deep enough to wrinkle their foreheads. “Can we just get this over with?”

Once again, Selina didn’t wait around long enough to gather a response from neither Sam nor Dean, who both did nothing but watch with a semi-gaped mouth as Selina headed up the property steps and towards the house. They were used to her not caring about which cover they used but to hear her say that? To have her want to get this over with ? Now that was strange, and it begged the question of whether or not there was something else going on with her besides her hair. 

However, they didn’t have time to ponder that and instead hurried after her, reaching the top of the stairs just as the front door of the house opened, revealing a young man with short, brown hair, a few scars littering his face and what they could only describe as the world’s worst moustache. 

“Lucas Turner?” Selina inquired, and the young man nodded. “We’re here about your attack.” 

“You are?” Lucas questioned, his brow furrowed as he stood up straight from where he’d been slouched against the edge of the door. “Because the cops said…” 

“We’re not the cops.” Sam cut him off, only adding to the visible confusion that was painted over Lucas’s face. “We’re uh… We are…” 

“Oh my God,” Selina mumbled exasperatedly under her breath, before stepping in front of Sam and stealing Lucas’s attention away from him. “Look, were you attacked or not?” 

“Yeah.”

“And was your attacker invisible?”

“Yeah.” 

“Great, well we’re the guys who hunt invisible attackers. So, are you gonna let us in or what?” 

Dumbfounded, Lucas simply babbled out something along the lines of yeah okay as he stepped away from the door, the hinges of which creaked faintly as he drew it back in order for the siblings to enter. 

“Well, that’s one way to do it.” Dean muttered, as he waited for Selina to make the first move towards entering the house. 

However, before she could place even a single toe across the threshold of the house, a guttural, bone-chillingly deep growl swept through the air, halting everyone in place and causing multiple hairs on their necks and arms to stand up straight. 

“You don’t happen to have a dog, do you?” Dean asked, partially humorously, towards Lucas, whose marked face had drained of any colour and who could barely shake his head in response he was so paralysed with fear. “Of course not. Why would you?” 

Another growl drifted in their direction, acting like a starting pistol as in a matter of seconds, all three Winchester siblings barreled into Lucas’s house, almost knocking the poor kid off his feet in their haste to not become puppy chow. They slammed the door shut behind them, however before they could lock, latch or barricade it afterwards, the hound came crashing through it, sending wooden scraps flying in all directions and scattering across the floor. 

“Upstairs, go, go.” Selina said flusteredly, ushering the others towards the only direction they could go. Only, before she herself could begin to climb the staircase, the hound grabbed hold of her pant leg, making her glad they were rather baggy as its teeth had sunk right through the fabric and would have otherwise pierced through her skin.

In one swift motion it tugged her towards it, causing her to lose her balance and fall forwards, where she couldn’t help but swear under her breath when her ribcage collided hard with the edge of the first step and sent a throbbing, dull pain shooting across her chest. 

“Dean!” Selina called out, though barely as she’d had the wind knocked clean out of her and could hardly breath. She was able to see Dean turn around in front of her, but before he could try to pull her to safety the hound dragged her out of his reach and into the living room.  

“Call Crowley, now.” Dean ordered Sam through gritted teeth, pulling out an extra angel blade along with the demon killing knife before he raced down the stairs and began to chase after Selina. 

He soon found her in the dining room, lying on her back with her weapon out of her reach and the hound standing directly over her, one giant paw placed firmly on her rapidly moving chest in order to keep her still. Though, to his complete and utter surprise, instead of ripping Selina apart like had once been done to him, all the hound did was stare down at her, its head tilted in a way that you’d often see with a normal dog. 

Or a certain trenchcoated angel. 

Quietly, Dean edged his way towards them, his eyes narrowing when the hound leaned down and loudly began sniffing at the side of Selina’s neck, where unknown to him, the necklace that Crowley had given her had slipped out from beneath her hoodie and was hanging loose just below her ear.

Selina slowly turned in his direction to escape the smell of hellhound breath, her fear-filled eyes locking with Dean’s as he did nothing but watch out of pure astonishment. Her gaze then drifted towards her discarded angel blade and as subtly as she could, she nodded her head, as though urging Dean to kick it towards her before the hound had had its fill of playing with its food. 

Selina didn’t really want to kill the hound, especially if it belonged to Crowley, but she didn’t see any other option. It was either it dies or she dies and even though she couldn’t help but think a short visit to see Death would be a relief from the goings on inside her mind, she really didn’t want Dean to have to see her ripped to shreds. She still hadn’t recovered from seeing him, so chances are, he’d never recover from seeing her either. 

And so she reached out her hand, feeling the cool metal of her angel blade that Dean had kicked brushing against her fingertips as she tried her hardest to grab hold of it. Luckily, the hound was still too interested in her neck to pay any attention to her hand, its surprisingly wet nose rubbing across the skin below her ear and making her shudder terribly.

The sniffing and lack of brutality weren’t the only things that were strange about this moment in time either as at one point, Selina could have sworn she heard the hound's tail hit against the leg of the dining room table, as though it were excited and wagging it like your average golden retriever. 

That's when it dawned on her. 

Perhaps, by some strange miracle, all the time she had spent with Crowley had benefited her in more ways than one. That maybe, just maybe , the hound could smell traces of Crowley on her skin, confusing it enough to the point where it had no idea whether it should kill her or obey her. After all, it was currently sniffing the spot below her ear that Crowley favoured when it came to kissing her neck, so perhaps he’d left behind a whole lot more than a simple love bite. 

“Okay Cujo,” Selina whispered, sucking in a breath as she abandoned her blade and turned her head away from the confused Dean, who had now been joined by an equally confused Sam, and towards the hound. “Let’s see if I’m right… Heel.” 

And just like that, the hound pulled away from her and to everyone’s surprise, sat down. 

“Whoa.” Dean exhaled, his gaze flicking between the now relaxed hound and his sister, who was slowly shuffling back across the floor with one arm wrapped tightly around her chest. “How the hell did you do that?” 

“I don’t know,” Selina breathed out in rather excruciating pain, accepting Sam’s help in getting to her feet and wincing as she did — no doubt she had a cracked rib, as if she really needed that piled up on top of everything else she had going on right now. 

“Would anyone care to explain what the bloody hell is going on?” came the sudden voice of Crowley, who was now standing in the space once occupied by Sam, his eyes narrowed as they darted almost frantically between his heart, and his hound.   

“You tell us,” Dean replied rather bitterly, turning towards the demon and raising the tip of his knife to his chest. “Tell us why your hound is out here going after people who haven’t sold their souls.” 

It was at that moment, as Crowley was rambling on about having no idea how any of this could have happened, that Selina began to feel a sharp, burning pain spike in her stomach — as though there was a tiny person inside of it, slicing away with the world’s sharpest knife that also happened to be on fire. 

At first she thought it was just a cramp, as it did have a similar feel to that which she’d get on her period. But given that it wasn’t in her lower abdomen where her cramps usually were and the fact that the intense pain seemed to escalate into an almost unbearable stint of pure heat, she came to the quick conclusion that it definitely wasn’t related to her period. Nor was it anything to do with her cracked rib. 

“Sam,” Selina spluttered, throwing out her hand to grab hold of Sam’s arm, who had been in the middle of discussing how it was possible that Selina managed to order Crowley’s hound to heel, before he turned to her. “Sam, something’s wrong… Something’s…” 

Selina was abruptly cut off when a mouthful of blood came spewing out from between her teeth, dripping down her chin and staining the front of her favourite hoodie. Then, as if things weren't bad enough, her legs gave out from under her and she fell to her knees, barely able to feel the pain that shot up her thighs over the relentless stabbing in her stomach. 

“Cas, we need you!” Dean called out, before swiftly joining Sam at Selina’s side, leaving Crowley to stand alone, overwhelmed with worry as he did nothing but watch the sight of the only person he’d ever truly loved throw up mouthful after mouthful of her own blood. 

He’d give anything, literally anything, to be able to by her side right now. To hold her, soothe her, do pretty much anything he could think of to make… whatever this was, that little bit easier for her. But due to present company and the strange fact that Selina was actively and purposely avoiding eye contact with him, he wasn’t sure that would be the best move. 

Especially for guaranteeing his own survival. Not that that even mattered to him anymore. He would give up his own life for Selina in a heartbeat if it meant not having to live without her, but still, he’d quite like to stick around, not only to figure out what the hell was going on, but to finally be able to tell Selina that he loved her. 

Crowley wasn’t fully ready to tell her just yet but he was getting there. It was becoming easier for him to understand his newfound feelings and so he was certain that with a little more time, it would be just as easy, if not more, to express them. And he’d really like to be around in order to do that, so for now, all he could do was watch and worry. 

As a flutter of wings sent a light breeze drifting through the still air, Crowley quickly fell out of that worry-induced trance, only to find that Selina was now lying on her side, in a pool of her own blood with Sam quietly assuring her she was okay. Upon seeing that, Crowley was just about to give in, to reveal everything they’d been working hard to keep a secret in order to be by her side, but before he could do so much as move a single inch towards Selina, a blur of trench coat grabbed him by the collar, thrust him up against the wall and began to search his pockets.

That rendered Crowley utterly baffled if he was being honest. Selina was on the floor, choking on her own blood and mere minutes away from death yet the only person in the room who could potentially heal her was more interested in what he had in his pockets? Like okay Gollum, pretty sure you have your priorities mixed up there. 

“Cas? What the hell are you doing? She’s dying!” Sam exclaimed, his gaze frantically flicking between the pickpocketing angel and his sister, who was clinging to him for dear life as the last ounce of her own faded from within her. “Cas!” 

Castiel said nothing though. Not even when he finally found what he was looking for in Crowley’s coat pocket. He let go of the demon, allowing him to slouch irritably against the wall where he briefly straightened himself out, before Castiel turned towards the siblings and opened his palm, revealing the small bundle of fabric that was responsible for Selina’s close call with death. 

In the blink of an eye the hex bag went up in flames and just like that, Selina could breathe again — well, as much as she could given her cracked rib but hey, at least she wasn’t throwing up blood anymore or experiencing the feeling of a thousand hot knives piercing through the lining of her stomach. 

Throughout her life she’d been hit by plenty of hex bags but never one as powerful as that. And never one that had her genuinely fearing that this was the end. She’d truly thought she was dying, that her time on Earth had finally come to an end and yet despite her feelings about what happened earlier, all she could think about in her ‘last moments’ was Crowley. 

“Are you alright?” Sam asked, still a little worried as the colour had yet to return to Selina’s face. 

“Define alright.” Selina replied, clasping her hand with Sam’s as he helped lift her to her feet, where he couldn’t help but let out a relieved chuckle as that was exactly the kind of answer he’d expect to get from his sister, meaning that she was indeed, alright. 

As she did her best to tidy herself up, ie, wiping the blood from around her mouth with her sleeve, Selina was stopped in her tracks when Dean stepped in front of her. She glanced up at him and the second she did, he put her face in both hands and began to tilt it slowly, as though he was trying to get a good look at her to make sure she was truly alright, and Selina knew better than to protest so she let him carry on. 

Once he was completely satisfied with her well-being, Dean nodded his head once as a quiet ‘hmfph’ left his slightly parted lips. He then patted the side of Selina’s head gently, before dropping his hands to his sides, spinning on his heels and punching Crowley square in the face. 

Out of instinct Sam lurched forward, preparing himself to have to hold Dean back should he knife Crowley before they got answers as to why he tried to kill Selina. But to everyone’s surprise, Crowley included, Dean settled on one punch only as part of him knew Selina would only try and get between them and he didn’t want to risk her getting hurt more than she already had. 

“You,” Dean gritted, using his blade to point threateningly at Crowley. He even widened his eyes a little, glancing down at the pointed edge as though emphasising that Crowley would be meeting the end of it should he answer in a way that Dean didn’t like, “start talking. Now.” 

“I have no idea where that hex bag came from,” Crowley said adamantly, looking past Dean, who simply scoffed in disbelief, and instead focusing his attention directly on Selina, who was refusing to even glance in his direction and something told him she wasn’t thinking about stepping between them any time soon. “Do you really think that if I wanted to kill her I would have needed one? Or that my hound would have stopped simply because she asked nicely?” 

“So what? You’re saying Cat was able to control your hound because you don’t want her dead?” Sam asked, and he was having trouble even believing that he was because as far as he knew, hellhounds only ever obeyed their owners. 

“I don’t know how she managed to control it,” Crowley replied, and still he was focused directly on Selina, wishing she’d look at him just so she could see he was telling the truth. “All I know is that had I been the one to send it after her, then she would be in pieces on the floor. And I certainly wouldn’t have needed a hex bag to finish her off.” 

“Well if you didn’t send the hound or make the hex bag then who the hell did?” Dean asked, or more so demanded. 

“I don’t know, but you best believe that I’ll find out.” Crowley said seriously, and Dean couldn’t help but scoff in response. 

“Right, because you're such a humanitarian these days.” He muttered, rolling his eyes and missing the slight twitch of Crowley’s jaw, as though he were about to open it in order to put Dean firmly in his place. 

However, no matter how hard he had to bite his tongue, Crowley stayed quiet. He wanted to respond, lord knows he did, but he simply couldn’t, not without exposing the truth about his relationship with Selina anyway and given what she'd just gone through, he didn't want to throw her in the deep end of having to explain that to her brothers. 

“Selina, you trust me, don’t you?” Crowley continued to stare straight past Dean and towards Selina, pleading internally that the promise he’d once made still meant something to her. And when she finally looked up, her eyes locking with his before drifting tiredly around the room, he felt a small spark of hope blossom in his chest that it did.

Patiently he waited for her to respond, watching as she took a deep breath and ran her fingers through her hair, pushing her hood down in the process and revealing the drastic change in her hair's length. Crowley didn’t even think to mention it though, and instead simply widened his eyes in awe as to him, she could have shaved her head completely and she would still be the most beautiful woman on the planet. 

“I,” Selina began, taking a deep breath which thankfully only shuddered enough for her to pick up on. She wanted to say yes, to let Crowley know that she still trusted him with her life. But after what happened earlier, mixed with this whole ordeal, she just wasn’t sure if that would be the truth. “I don’t know anymore.”  

And just like that, Crowley’s entire being seemed to fall around him and in the blink of an eye, he was gone.

“I think you hurt his feelings.” Dean said humorously, unaware that he was completely true and that each passing second was literal agony for Selina — and it wasn’t because of her cracked rib. 

She truly hadn’t intended to hurt Crowley’s feelings, or do anything to potentially jeopardise their relationship when to her it was already so fragile. But she just couldn’t bring herself to lie to him. She honestly didn’t know if she could trust him, not after everything that had happened today — and in the space of a single hour, she might add.

The longest hour of her life, to be precise and truthfully, Selina didn’t think it could get any worse than it already was. At least, not until Castiel dropped her back at the bunker, where upon entering her bedroom in hopes of some peace and quiet, she got the exact opposite when she found Crowley already in there, looking as though he hadn’t done anything even remotely wrong.  

“Why don’t you trust me anymore?” Crowley asked, his voice low and had Selina not been who she was to him, she never would have picked up on the sadness lingering deep beneath it — supposed sadness she should say, as from what she knew about him, Crowley could be rather good at acting whenever he chose to be. “You can’t think that I had anything to do with what happened, can you?” 

“I don’t know, Crowley,” Selina sighed, and she couldn’t help but be harsh about it. “Maybe I wouldn’t be having this problem if you weren’t cheating on me.” 

“Cheating on you?” Crowley repeated, in genuine shock as he abruptly got to his feet, his brow dipped so deep it might as well have been a moustache. “You think I’m cheating on you?” 

“Pretty hard not to,” Selina spat, pulling out her phone and quickly bringing up their text thread from earlier. “Especially considering your little side piece enjoys texting me when your head’s between her legs.” 

Tossing the phone at Crowley, and making him fumble to catch it as it bounced off his chest, Selina watched carefully as he read through each of the three messages, during which she tried her best to decipher anything in his eyes, on his face, and even in his posture that might suggest that he was openly lying to her. But like she said before, he was a good actor, therefore she couldn't be sure of anything she thought she saw. 

“Well?” Selina asked, eventually breaking the tense silence as she was unable to take it anymore. Surely it shouldn’t be taking this long to read a handful of words. “Do you have anything to say for yourself or do you need more time to get your story straight?”

“Lola.” Crowley muttered, his eyes closing for a brief second, during which he missed the heartbreak flash over Selina’s face as he pressed his lips together — he knew he shouldn’t have left his phone sitting out when he wasn’t able to keep an eye on her as after all, being a homewrecker was kind of Lola’s thing. 

“Lola?” Selina repeated, finding herself becoming a tad bit delirious when she couldn’t help but let out an empty laugh. “You’re cheating on me with a Lola?” 

“I am not cheating on you with anybody.” Crowley defended, deeply offended at the insinuation that he would even so much as look at another woman let alone sleep with one — especially one such as Lola.  

“Right,” Selina scoffed, folding her arms over her chest as she shook her head, finding that the more this went on, the more trouble she was having believing him as the only thing he had to offer her was another woman’s name. “Tell me, was she good for you? Did she satisfy your needs better than I do? Or did me almost ending up as your hounds chew toy interrupt you before you could get to that part?” 

“Selina, please, must you be so difficult?” Crowley gritted, out of anger that she would even think that. He took a deep breath, his eyes drifting back towards her and it wasn’t until he saw the way her face had dropped, and the partial tremble of her lip did he realise what he had said. 

“Difficult? You think I’m difficult?” Selina questioned, her voice breaking just enough to make Crowley wish he’d never opened his big mouth in the first place. He went to step forward, to take her hand and apologise for this whole misunderstanding, though the second he went to move, Selina recoiled and shook her head. “You know what? If I’m so difficult for you to be around then maybe you should just go be with this Lola instead, because from where I’m standing, she seems real fucking easy.” 

“Selina, please,” Crowley said, in desperation that she would just listen to him. He even tried to move towards her again, but she only backed up more to the point where she actually walked into the door. “If you would just give me a second to explain…” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” Selina whispered, raising her hand to furiously wipe away the tears that had snuck out of her eyes. She turned her head, focusing her gaze on one random brick on her wall as she added, brokenly, “I just want you to go, okay? Don’t talk. Just go... I need time to think.” 

“To think about what?” Crowley asked, his rapidly beating heart leaping into his throat as he dreaded her answer. 

“About whether being…” Selina cut herself off, sucking in a shaky breath that she swallowed along with the lump in her throat. What she wanted to say was ‘whether being in love with you is a good idea’ but she just couldn’t bring herself to confess her love out loud. Not like this. Not under these circumstances. So, after another deep breath, she closed her eyes and settled on, “About whether us being together is a good idea.” 

And when she opened her eyes, just seconds after the words settled in the air, Crowley was gone, leaving her to believe that maybe… the answer to her question was no.

Chapter 18 ->

[c0rpsedemon]

also the decora girlz line gets the romeo yotd2009 seal of approval if anyone was wondering. cepia has literally Never been on my radar b4 this and this is coming from a toy collector who does tend to lean towards the obscure (funnily enough my doll collection doesn't actually reflect this bc when most of it was acquired i couldn't afford expensive dolls more than once or twice a year (which a lot of the truly obscure dolls are) and i'm also an american girl collector so like. if i was getting an expensive doll i wanted her to be bigger than a barbie and thus i spent my jafra pullip licca and yue-sai wawa money on ag (obv two of those four are not like the others but in western doll-focused spaces i'd def say that licca and pullip are treated as 'oh that's the doll that beat out barbie in japan' or 'those are the ones w the wrists that break' instead of being actively collected and are basically equivalent to mga storytime princesses in terms of relevance despite being huge in their home country. jafra and yue-sai wawa you aren't arguing w me on no one knows them and i've actually been gatekeeping them both for a while bc i don't want to share them when i haven't even sunk my claws into them yet) but anyways my point is i do generally think i know my way around the non-mgattel (+ occasional jaks) lines but i only know abt these from cybr.grl's insta stories bc they used her as a consultant to more accurately represent decora fashion. and so obv i wanted to show up for decora girlz bc jfashion and western fashion dolls don't exactly have the best history but the fact that they're genuinely trying made me want to show up for them. i usually don't go for what i like to describe as mga face but i think the fact that they're meant to lean super into kawaii aesthetics helped me set that aside. my only critiques of them is that i got a 3 pack of the smaller blind box dolls w the rubber clothes as opposed to the taller more traditional fashion dolls w fabric clothes and 2/3 of my dolls had rooting issues although they were fairly minor, also irt to the stickers i get that that's a fun part for the kids but applying them stressed me out sm bc i wasn't sure they wouldn't fall off. i put them on as close as possible to how they were displayed in the promo images and one of my dolls was cat and she didn't just have stickers on her flat bangs, she had stickers in the curly part of her hair too and it just wasn't working out w those bc there was no way too fully connect them w/o having them positioned in an awkward way. also i don't think they thought the stands through irt luna as, while attaching at the neck is a good idea esp considering their proportions, luna has a bag meant to hang from her shoulder and there wasn't rlly enough room for both it and the stand between her shoulders and head. that said my nitpicks are all minor, i hope this line becomes a major success, and i plan on picking up the rest of it.

[kyndaris]

Sky Garden

After an exhausting day at Universal Studios Japan, bleachpanda and I kept up the momentum by using our last day in Osaka to visit several popular sites in and around the biggest city in the Kansai region. This meant paying a visit to Namba Yasaka shrine bright and early in the morning. Well, technically, it was after 9 AM but after the early start yesterday and the considerable step count bleachpanda and I accrued the day before, I thought it best to give my faithful companion a bit more of a break.

Namba Yasaka shrine is a Shinto shrine that's about a ten minute walk from Namba station. It's known for its very distinctive lion head-shaped buildings and by the time bleachpanda and I arrived, there was already a throng of tourists taking photos of the fierce lion head.

Bleachpanda and I didn't stay long, though. After taking a few snaps of the shrine and skimming through the charms on offer, we headed back to Namba station and took the Midosuji line up to Umeda again. However, unlike the day before, we would not be transferring to Universal City station. Rather, we headed out to the Umeda Sky Building, a two-tower mixed-use skyscaper that had its own observation deck, the Kuchu Teien Observatory.

But my, what a unique design!

The building was originally conceived in 1988 as the "City of Air" project, and was envisioned to have four interconnected towers. However, due to the Japan economic bubble of the 1980s, the plan was scuppered and only two towers were constructed - linked, still, by a sky deck. This sky desk was built on the ground and lifted up through the use of hydraulic elevators.

While one does wonder what Umeda Sky Building would have looked like if it still had four towers, the building we got was still an impressive spectacle.

Once bleachpanda and I reached the top, we were afforded a wide view of Osaka given the excellent weather. It was such a grand view, even bleachpanda was able to appreciate it although she was hankering to start shopping.

After coming down from the skyscraper, bleachpanda and I headed back to Osaka Station and Lucia 100 to visit the Disney Store there. What surprised me, as the two of us were looking at the merchandise, was bleachpanda actually buying a cute mini plushie of Winnie the Pooh and Eeyore. This was despite telling me she hated Disney.

Well, hate is too strong a word. Bleachpanda just never saw the appeal of Disney, especially when it came to the princesses. And true, much of the marketing is focused on fairy tale stories about a princesses finding their one true love BUT there's been a lot of experimental works as well! Look no further than Atlantis: The Lost Empire or Emperor's New Groove! Or, in this case, Winnie the Pooh and the Honey Tree.

I, on the other hand, couldn't resist the very cute tsum tsums and even got persuaded to buy an Easter-themed Stitch doll! And I don't even typically buy plushies on the regular! But this was Disney, and even though there weren't many things in relation to Star Wars or Marvel, I was in heaven!

Heaven, too, might be too strong a word. I was disappointed a little by the selection available but given the Disney 100 pop-up stores in Australia didn't have many options, the Disney stores here in Japan were far superior and catered a little more to my tastes.

Once I shelled out far too much for Disney merchandise (which was then put into a Duty-Free bag I couldn't open and which also had far too much air in it), I slowly led bleachpanda to the Pokemon Center nearby.

Little did I know there was also a Nintendo Store, Capcom Store and Mugiwara store all nearby. Suffice it to say, many things were purchased before we managed to break free and head to Animate - a 12 minute walk away with several bags full of shopping.

Unfortunately, once we arrived, there was naught for bleachpanda to buy, although I did pick up quite a few goodies for my own personal use. Then it was a short trek to a second Disney store, with a short stop at a Sanrio store nearby (where bleachpanda spent about 9000 Yen on things she thought were cute) before we had a look at the Jump and Marvel store also located within the same department store.

By the end of the day, the two of us were laden down by shopping bags. Despite all the shopping we'd done, bleachpanda still wanted to check out the local Don Quijote at Dotonbori again where she bought several snacks and skincare products. And though we had hoped to ride the ferris wheel to look out over the canal and the many other shops, it was closed due to the large crowds in the area.

[carbo-ships]

Yule

Heads up that this one is a little spicy.

Part 54 [Soldagand x Carly Masterlist]

Yule had finally arrived in Aalveir. Soldagand had spent most of his spare time over the past several weeks whittling little toys for the children of Stornhein. He'd been doing it for well over a hundred years, he'd explained when Carly asked about it, and he wasn't stopping any time soon. Now that Yule had begun, it was time to deliver this year's gifts.

Soldagand stepped into the den of his tree as soon as dusk had fallen. The hulking dryad was dressed in a red sleeveless vest with a high collar and gold buttons. The white fur lining poked out around the edges. His pants, a matching red, were tucked into tall brown boots. Atop his head rested a red stocking cap with white fur trim.

"I've never seen you in red before," Carly commented, looking him up and down from her seat by the hearth.

"It ain't the most flattering color on me, but it's tradition," he sighed. "Hard to find colors that look nice on me, being the color I am."

"I think you look handsome," she praised him, smiling broadly.

"You just like how it makes my arms look, dontcha?" he teased, flexing his bicep.

She felt her cheeks heat up. That always made her flustered. "I, uh— Well, yes, but—"

He chuckled and hefted a big brown sack over his shoulder. "Thank you, darlin'."

"Are those the presents for everyone?" she asked, eager to change the subject.

"Mmhm."

"Do you have anything in there for me?" she asked shyly.

He grinned. "No, I couldn't quite figure out how to wrap a couple hundred of my kisses," he purred with a wink.

Her face flushed. "I— Oh! You’re— I—" A pitiful whimper escaped her throat as images of Soldagand kissing her senseless flooded her mind. She clapped her hands over her mouth.

Soldagand laughed. "I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Don’t worry, I’ve got somethin’ you can actually get your hands on. I'll give it to ya later. Now c’mere..." He bent down and kissed her sweetly, leaving her in a bit of a daze. "I’ll be back in a couple hours. See ya, doll. Don't miss me too much."

—

Later that evening, Soldagand returned. He was humming absentmindedly to himself, an empty sack in one arm and a box in the other.

"Welcome back!" Carly called, hopping up to greet him. "I take it everything went well?"

"Evenin', darlin'!" he responded with a big smile, stepping out of his snow-covered boots. "Yep, no problems."

"What's that?" she asked, indicating towards the box tucked under his arm.

"This? Some folks leave little goodies for me as thanks. Awful sweet of 'em, dontcha think?" He set the box on the table and removed the lid to reveal an assortment of cookies and other baked goods. "Go on, have a few."

"Ooh, thank you!" she cooed, hopping up from the couch to accept his offer.

Soldagand tossed the empty sack and his hat into a corner of the room and lied down on the couch, kicking his feet up on the arm rest. He watched as Carly took a treat from the box and popped it into her mouth. When she turned back around to face him, he had a smug grin on his face. "I know you usually tend to wait until that lil Christmas thing you do, but..." Soldagand tugged at the collar of his vest suggestively. "Why don’t you go ahead and unwrap your present?"

She nearly choked on the cookie. "I— You?!"

He sent her an amused smirk. "Come on." He patted his hip, clearly offering her a seat on top of him.

She swallowed hard then scoffed, attempting to hide her nerves. "You’re kidding."

"I most certainly am not. I told you I’d have something you could get your hands on, didn’t I?"

"I— I didn’t think you meant— Oh, Soldagand, I—" She was starting to panic.

"I won't make you if you don't wanna," he reminded her, "but I’d like you to at least give me a try. You might find you like what I have to offer. I mean, we're engaged, after all. Have a look at what you signed up for, princess."

"Are you sure?" she asked, still rooted to the spot.

He grinned. "I’ll take good care of you, sweet girl. Now c’mere." He waved her over. She took a deep breath and nodded, approaching him. He smiled as she carefully straddled him. "That's it, there you go."

"I, um, I don’t know what to do," she admitted nervously as she settled on his hips.

"No?" he asked, quirking an eyebrow. "Well, that's alright, darlin'. How about this for starters: go ahead and unbutton this vest of mine."

"Really?" she stuttered.

"Yes, ma'am," he said calmly. "Be my guest."

She continued to stare at him, dumbfounded. "I— Oh, gosh, I can’t do this."

"Sure you can," he chuckled, taking her hands in his and guiding them to the button at his throat. "Take all the time you need. I’m in no rush. We can take this nice an’ slow. You're in charge here. Besides, it ain't like you've never seen me with my shirt off before." With trembling fingers, she undid the first button on his vest. She looked up at him for permission to continue. He gave her an encouraging nod and rested his hands behind his head to further bare his chest. "That's it," he cooed. She took a deep breath and carefully undid the next button. As the fabric parted, her suspicions were confirmed—he wasn’t wearing a shirt under his vest. He noticed the change in her expression and felt rather pleased with himself. "Somethin’ wrong?" he asked coyly.

"N-no, I— You’re fine." Not wanting to offend him, she continued unbuttoning his vest. It was hard for her to steady her breathing as more and more of him was exposed. She kept her eyes firmly on her task, but glanced up at him once to find him biting his lip and gazing at her with half-lidded eyes. The sight nearly took away any shred of courage she had left, making her immediately look away. She busied herself with undoing the remaining buttons on his vest so she wouldn’t have to look at that devilish grin.

When she was finally done, she dared to look back up at him for further instruction. "Here, pumpkin. I’ll help you out." He sat up slightly to let her ease the vest off of his broad shoulders and down his muscular arms. When it was off his body and in her trembling hands, she began to gingerly fold it. He laughed and took it from her, balling it up and tossing it on the floor unceremoniously. "No need to be so gentle, baby."

She still seemed uncertain as he lied back down and looked at her expectantly. Her eyes flickered between his face and his bare torso. "What, um, what do I do now?"

"You can play with your new toy any way you like." He shrugged, failing to fight back a grin.

She hid her face in her hands. "Please don’t talk like that," she begged him. "You’re not my toy, you’re my friend."

"I’d love to be both," he purred.

"Soldagand!" she gasped, scandalized.

He laughed heartily, resting his hands on her waist. "I just find it curious that I’m the one who’s half-naked, pinned to the couch, and you’re the one who’s about to keel over! Sweetheart, I'm all yours. It's all up to you. Anything you want tonight, just do it."

"A-Anything?" she stuttered.

"Pretty much. What, you got somethin’ in mind?" Soldagand asked casually, trying to hide how eager he was. He was more than ready for Carly to get her hands on him. He flexed his muscles in an effort to tempt her.

Without another word, she curled up on his bare chest and buried her blushing face in the crook of his warm neck. "Can we cuddle?" she asked timidly.

He paused, surprised. He'd planned on taking this evening in a much different direction, but he wouldn't complain. Perhaps this was the first step to a more interesting night, and perhaps this was truly all she wanted. Either way, he was more than happy to oblige. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. "Of course, darlin'." As she snuggled into his embrace, he could feel her heart racing. "Is this really all you want? Just cuddlin'?"

"Um..." she mumbled. "I know you were joking earlier when you, um..." Her voice trailed off.

He let out a soft chuckle. "Couple hundred of my kisses?"

"Yes, please," she whispered. "If that's okay."

"Of course, honey. I'm gettin' the feeling you don't like taking the reins, huh?"

"Not really," she squeaked. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, there's no need to apologize, sweetheart, it's alright! Just thought it might be fun to shake things up a bit, that's all. How 'bout I give you a minute to settle, and then we'll fall back into our old rhythms, alright?"

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e-ARC Review: An Island Princess Starts a Scandal

A HUGE thank you to Netgalley and Harlequin Trade for providing me an eARC in exchange for an honest review!

RATING: ⭐⭐⭐⭐

GOODREADS SYNOPSIS:  Manuela del Carmen Caceres Galvan is soon to be trapped in a loveless marriage. Invited to show her paintings at the 1889 Exposition Universelle came at the perfect time, Manuela has given herself one last summer of freedom in Paris.  Cora Kempf Bristol, Duchess of Sundridge, is known for her ruthlessness in business. She chases power to secure her position among her rivals. There is an opportunity to secure it with the purchase of land for a railway. How difficult could it be to convince the mercurial Miss Caceres Galvan to part with land she’s sworn never to sell? Tempted by Cora’s offer, Manuela proposes a trade: her beloved land for a summer with the duchess in her corner of Paris. A taste of the wild, carefree world that will soon be out of her reach. What follows thrills and terrifies Cora, igniting desires the duchess long thought dead. As they fill their days indulging in a shared passion for the arts and their nights with dark and delicious deeds, the happiness that seemed impossible moves within reach…though claiming it would cause the greatest scandal Paris has seen in decades.

RELEASE DATE: May 30, 2023

See my full review under the cut!

What better way to close Lesbian Visibility Week than with a review of a steamy sapphic romance you won’t want to miss?

An Island Princess Starts a Scandal is actually a second book in a series. Adriana Herrera first introduced readers to most of the cast in book one of Las Leonas: A Caribbean Heiress in Paris. While you don’t need to read the first installment to understand or enjoy the second, I do caution readers who are afraid of spoilers to start from the beginning. There is an overlapping timeline which naturally leads to minor spoilers for the first installment.

That said, let’s get right to the good stuff.

I adored this book! Manuela and Cora are clearly founded in some time-honored romcom tropes (example: sunshine one loves grumpy one). But they bring fully realized backstories and personalities that prevent them from feeling like placeholders. Neither woman is perfect. Each has her flaws that get in her way. Manuela is simultaneously impulsive and flighty but still terrified to free herself from her controlling, homophobic family. Cora is generous and courageous, but she can also be highhanded and controlling. Each has to work on herself in order to make their love successful, and Herrera gives them both the necessary scope to do so.

I also enjoyed the way that Herrera clearly used research into the era to ground her story in actual history. Though I complain frequently about the fact that it’s hard to find happy sapphics and electricity in the same story, I do have to admit that it was a joy to see Herrera make use of a real, thriving, and loving queer community for her fiction. Not all of history is about pain and homophobia. We’ve always been here, and we’ve always found ways to bring our light to the world.

Finally, I salute the way that Herrera writes the actual acts of women loving women. Cora and Manuela are described in real ways. They are bodies that one can actually picture instead of imagining some idealized barbie doll forms. And Cora and Manuela describe each other’s realistic bodies with genuine desire. Their sexual encounters feel grounded in a genuinely sapphic perspective. This isn’t meant to titillate pruriently curious straight people. These are two women who adore every inch of each other and do so fearlessly. The reader can feel their love--and attraction--in every description.

So, if you’re looking for a steamy, tender romance full of love and joy? I can’t recommend this book strongly enough. It’s the perfect way to kickstart Pride for women who love women.