#tarnished is gender-neutral in this one

[spinzzy]

cute gender neutral things to call your partner:

chosen undead

bearer of the curse

ashen one

foul tarnished, emboldened by the flame of ambition

gravelord servant

bloody finger

mound maker

[bluetooththereptile]

Father in law (part one)

(Potential yandere Bruce Wayne x reader)

( English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes in the following text.)

Note: I use a gender neutral name, Angel, for Bruce's child.

Summary: Your life with your partner isn't going well, you have to do something about it.

Tw: mentions of abuse, harm and unaliving.

The sound of the TV echoed in the living room of the Manor, the atmosphere of the room tense, it had been like that since whenever you visited your partner. You rolled your eyes as you heard the chuckles of the presenters on the screen, a picture of you taken by paparazzi when you were in a hurry plastered on the corner of the screen. Angel tried to distract you by offering you a cup of tea but you declined, making them worry even more for you, but you were too lost in your misery to care.

Since your relationship became serious with Angel your life had become a literal hell, every date had ended up in some form of misery for you, Angel didn't get any of the side effects of your situation though and you didn't know how it had happened. How you had ended up on the paparazzi news, your life displayed as the worst version of what it could be, belittled and bullied, you had lost your job because of your tarnished image and you had lived in your car since your landlady had thrown you out because you were a "sexually deviant, arrogant and abuser" person and she didn't want you close to her own home. Speaking of the car, you had to refill its tank, but you didn't have the money for it. Damn it!

You groaned under your breath as you looked At angel who had tilted their head to the side, calling your name to catch your attention. God, how much you both hated and loved them at the same time. It was easy to love them, they were kind and caring, beautiful in every sense, perfect in every way, no wonder they were so popular, but, that also was the reason that you hated them as well, they had everything you did not, and since the time you had started dating, your life had become a literal hell.

"Angel..." you spoke, a little surprised by your tone, it sounded...weak "I wanted to talk about something..." Their body turned towards you so they could give you their whole attention, you wanted to wince at the gleam in their eyes, they looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world, at first it was pleasant to have someone like that but now it was sort of like a hex, giving you the chills. Shivering slightly you cleared your throat and shifted on your seat "I've been thinking about breaking up..."

"What?! Why?!" Angel's hurt voice made you recoil in your seat, you wanted to tell them everything, to tell them all that happened to you had made you miserable, but you only sighed in their response "Something has been bothering you?" Angel's question made you wince, Angel was perfect but had a mortal flaw, they were delusional, you didn't know but it ran in their family. In their eyes you weren't dirty or miserable, you were simply tired, bored, or perhaps a little sick. What was on TV was just a joke, and perhaps you didn't have the humor to laugh at it, you were just a little rusty, that's all, right? Then why you wanted to break up? Was the date you had not good enough? Your dates were so much fun, they always ended up with a funny scene, you had so much fun together, and you were perfect together, why now you were talking about breaking up?

You palmed your face, sighing, looking away from Angel, only to see their father standing in the corner with an interested look on his face, Bruce Wayne, oh God you hated that man to your core, whenever you met him he'd roast you so hard that you'd end up like a lump of burnt coal, the look in his eyes showed that he looked down on you, not to mention his fucking family, ugh, you just wanted to get away from all of this, after all, you got into that mess just for the sake of dating Angel Wayne.

You turned to your partner "Look, I just want to break up okay?" Angel paused, the look on their face darkening, oh dear God here we go. "Am I not enough? Y/N, I have done everything I could to make you happy! What is wrong? Don't you love me anymore?" "No! I don't love you anymore!" You said harshly, wanting to push them away, even if it meant they'd be hurt emotionally, but to your frustration, Angel took in a deep breath before speaking "I know I have been busy with my work and you've been under so much pressure lately, I understand that you feel burnt out and want to take some time apart but breaking up is just overreacting to our situation!"

You felt like you'd want to roll your eyes so hard that they'd come out of the other side of your head, they didn't want to understand, they didn't take no by its literal meaning. You sighed, rubbing your eyes, if it was with someone else you'd feel thrilled that someone was so understanding and considerate, so hell-bent on keeping you by their side but this wasn't that, you felt like you were suffocating under the pressure. Your phone rang, making you flinch, as you looked down at its screen you let out a scoff, it was another call from another unknown number, how your phone number had ended up on the internet for people to bully, you didn't know. You were sick of this, sick of life itself!

No job, no house, your own family hated you for just existing after fabricated evidence of your various offenses had been published, you couldn't hurt a fly, and yet you have assaulted an old lady...sexually?!?! Angel touched your arm to pull you out of your thoughts but then you slapped their hand away. standing up, you didn't even turn to look back at them for the last time, ignoring their pleas "Y/N, you're being ridiculous please stay-" Angel paused as Bruce talked "Let them leave darling..." you rolled your eyes once more before walking away, not looking back to see the smirk on Bruce's face as he held his child

down by their shoulders on their seat; stopping them from following you.

You didn't know why all of this had happened, you didn't know that it was all because of Bruce Wayne, the bastard himself. He had paid people to tarnish your image, ruin your livelihood, and push you into depression so you'd let go of his child, you were never perfect for his Angel, his Angel deserved someone so much better than you. Barging out of the Manor you walked your way outside the yard and the gates, of course, you didn't have the money to pay for a taxi, so you started a walk into the night, too frustrated and angry to think of your safety.

Before you could figure out where you were heading you found yourself in front of the drugstore your mother used to take you to, the cashier was still the same old lady with those large eyeglasses. Without thinking you headed into the store, perhaps some nostalgia would help? The smell of lavender filled your nostrils, you walked to the second isle to avoid eye contact with the cashier, sighing as you looked at the different things for sale, until your eyes landed on the familiar brown bottle, something that your mother used to call her little helpers...Xanax.

You reached out for the bottle and looked at it, whenever your mother took one of these everything seemed better since she'd end up more relaxed, perhaps if you were to take some you'd feel better too? But you didn't have the money to buy it, and clearly, you didn't want to embarrass yourself by asking to borrow it, so you looked around, and since the only camera in the old store was way away from you, you quickly put the bottle in your pocket, walking out of the store as if nothing had happened, you'd finally have some resemblance of relaxation soon.

....

Angel's cries echoed in the Manor as they banged their fists on the door, pleading for their father to be let out, they had to see you, they had to touch your body, even if it meant it was cold already. Bruce closed his eyes, leaning to the door of their room as he tried to think of something else, something other the fact that your suicide had ended up messing his child so much that they had gotten into a maniac episode. Dick had found your body in the car, motionless with the empty bottle of pills, you had given up on everything.

But what bothered Bruce was not your death or Angel's distress, it was the fact that he felt...pain. surely it wasn't because he deep down had softened up a little for you, right? He had told himself those lies for about a week, and it was driving him mad, he had to do something about it to save both his sanity and Angel's, and he'd do anything in his power to make things right.

[spxllcxstxr]

Being a Maia Witch and in the Fellowship • Headcanon

(Gif not mine)

Request: Hi, if you're taking requests, can I get headcanons for the Fellowship? The reader is a Maia witch and is sort of a colleague of Gandalf's but he's also a bit of a mentor. Just interested to see how you think everyone would interact with the reader :) thank you so much and I hope you stay safe, happy, and healthy — anon

Warnings: reader is one of the blue wizards, mostly gender neutral though you are called a witch, mix of book and movie canon

A.N: Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy these hcs, I really enjoy writing about the fellowship!

•

Since stepping foot on Middle Earth you had always been a wanderer

Of course you had spent time with the other Maiar; though you had your own specialized magic, Gandalf mentored you a lot

You always felt closer to Radagast the Brown; he cared deeply about nature and the living world that you lived in

You had been known to almost vanish for years at a time, exploring some deep cavern or somewhere high in mountains, it was always on a whim

You were elusive--all the races of Middle Earth had their own names and tall tales about you

But as the Age of the Elves starts to dwindle you start to ease down on the amount of adventures you have

Until your dear old friend Gandalf the Grey shows up on your doorstep out of breath with and almost crazed look in his eyes

A hobbit has the One Ring

So much for not traveling

You join the Fellowship at the Council of Elrond--no one opposes having another magical being in their midst

You try to get to know the other members better, it has been some time since you have interacted with people so your communication skills are a little rusty

Gandalf trusts you, of course, he is thrilled you have agreed to join them

He confides in you about the quest and the situation; things he would not tell the others

You two understand each other in a way no one else in the Fellowship can

The two of you, to fill the time, talk about your own travels and the history of Middle Earth

"You have been gone for too long, (Y/n), Middle Earth has suffered in your absence."

"Oh Gandalf, I needed to see everything before it was too late."

Boromir is a little wary of you, in Gondor they believe your presence is a bad omen since you do not show yourself too frequently near Minas Tirith

He warms up to you while travelling to the Mines of Moria because you and Gandalf exerted so much power trying to save them

"You are not the ill portent my father has talked about, witch. Why did you avoid Minas Tirith for so long?"

Aragorn has probably seen glimpses of you throughout his life and because of his travels he has heard many stories about you

Honestly he's very intrigued and asks many questions about what you have seen

He really trusts you almost immediately, you were welcomed in Rivendell, showing that Elrond trusted you

In Lothlorien Galadriel also holds you in high esteem, she's surprised you're in the Fellowship; not because you do not care about the fate of Middle Earth, but because you never tend to stay in one place long

"You must guide me, (Y/n). With Gandalf lost...I cannot proceed without council..."

Legolas is all over you--endless questions about the world and the time that has passed, but in like a subdued manner

He trusts you, though in recent years your reputation has been tarnished by his father, who is of the thought that you and the other wizards should have helped them fight against the spiders. He believes the Greenwood fell to darkness due to the negligence of the wizards

"Do you believe the Greenwood will be cured after we destroy the Ring, (Y/n)? I have missed my home..."

Gimli goes through the motions of meeting a witch only a handful of people have encountered in your lifetime

He's the one that discovered your sense of humor and loves joking with you

You ask him about recent dwarven culture, dwarves are wary of outsiders so it has been a while since you have seen their tools and creations

"Just you wait, lass, what we have created is unlike anything you have ever seen!"

Merry is genuinely delighted that you joined them

He feels a lot safer with two wizards, even if you’re not that experienced with fighting

Merry trusts your judgement and certainly looks for your approval just like he does with Gandalf

(Also please show him magic he loves Gandalf’s fireworks and he wants to see what else magic can do since Gandalf doesn’t really show anyone that stuff)

“Can you make Boromir’s shield disappear, (Y/n)? Or perhaps make Legolas’ hair a different color?”

Pippin is like Merry on crack

He wants to know every little detail about everything but at the same time he is chewing your ear off

Honestly he’s probably telling you his life story too

He enjoys your company, like Merry he feels a lot more secure in this quest and he also comes to see you as a friend

Wants to see your magic, even if you just create sparks at your fingertips

Probably your number one fan

“Can I see your staff (Y/n)? I promise not to use it to singe Gandalf’s beard!”

Sam is very shy around you and is very protective of Frodo

Sure Gandalf trusts you, but you’ve only ever been a fable in the Shire

He knows nothing about you, what have you been doing this entire time?

He does warm up to you, though, once you prove to him that you are truly there to help them succeed

Learns a lot about herbs from you, whether they be for cooking or medicine

“Tell me about the Elves, (Y/n). You must know so much about them. Rivendell was so beautiful…”

Frodo is highly suspicious of you for quite a while

It is mostly because he is afraid of the Ring and its influence

He doesn’t know you like he knows Gandalf so it takes him a bit to trust you

Bilbo has only told him rumors of you

It isn’t until Gandalf dies that he really starts looking to you for guidance

He takes to you mostly at night when everyone is asleep because he is away from prying eyes

“This quest leads me to my death, doesn’t it witch? I do not know how to even begin to understand that…”

Overall you guys learn to bond and grow together throughout the quest

You have never been so happy to be around people despite the circumstances, and you start to understand why Gandalf has always been so involved with the people of Middle Earth

•

[jangmi-latte]

3:00 𝐏𝐌 — 「 FAILURE NOCRIOL TUL- I GENERAL 」

nsfw. gender! neutral reader.

the title is gnoomish for: failure must come to the general

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the patience fitting for the blessing of the night..." you mumbled in ancient fae dialect, kneeling against the dais where the statue of the thorn fairy stood.

"I hereby declare, Mr. Lilia Vanrouge..."

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the strength to face and defend the blessing of the night..." You grit your teeth, tightening your grip on the quartz crystal. Your breathing deepened, your eyes shut tighter as your eyebrows furrowed.

"...the duty and power to guard and protect..."

"Thorn Fairy, hear my wishes. You, who are full of grace and beauty, bless upon me the essence of what it is to be part of the blessing of the night..." You can feel your heartbeat speed up. You can feel it throughout your body, you can feel it banging against your ear drums. The quartz crystal cracked against your grip, your nails digging into your palm.

"...annointed by Her Royal Majesty, Malleficia Draconia, and Her Royal Highness, Meleanor Draconia..."

"Thorn Fairy...hear my wishes...You..." came your chants that turned into forced whispers.

"...as the General of the Land of Briar."

The quarts crystal crumbled into dust, shattering completely before you threw it to the ground and screamed. Hands slamming against the floor as fists pounded and smacked against the dais. The echoes of the ceremony that commenced not even an hour ago rang and rang in your head.

You glared up at the statue, breath heaving while you continued to thrash the flowers and gifts that surrounded the statue. Your knees collapsed with your hair tarnished as you continued to stare up at the thorn fairy. Her stoned face, those lifeless eyes of hers angled up to mock your demise. Her lips smirked down, as far as the angle could provide, at you.

Such a pathetic fae, that you are.

"I hate you, Lilia Vanrouge."

You heard the heavy wooden doors close behind you; you paid no heed, not to the fae, not to the ruined dais of the savior of faes, and definitely not to how you looked.

"The hypocrisy you really possess baffles me," he said, heels clicking against the marble floor.

Your teeth nearly cracked. The stoned dias creaked under your fingernails as you slowly panned your head over his shoulder. There he was. That fucking General.

That title was supposed to be yours. You're supposed to be the General of the Land of Briar. You're supposed to be in charge of protecting the land. You worked hard to impress the royals—

Yet, why did this foresaken man get annointed instead of you?

"Stand up," he ordered.

He is not using his position on you. Not now, not ever. You were equals before he was chosen. Fuck the hierarchy.

"I said. Stand. Up," came another order, sterner than the one before. "If you're going to let out your anger, do it to me."

And that was your final breaking point. The cockiness, the arrogance, that glint in those sharp eyes of his. It's all mockery, it's all a game. Not an ounce of care that he defeated you. What he wants, you don't know. But, what you want, he holds.

You stood up and charged at him. Fists hitting wherever it landed just as long as it's on his body. He didn't flinch, he didn't resist. He just stared. It angered you more. Your vision was nothing but black.

"I hope the war takes you," you sneered, landing a punch on his face.

"I hope you fail the princess!" A punch landed on his shoulder.

"I. Am. Supposed. To be. The General!" You screamed and landed a blow to his chest, sending him to take a step back and puff out a breath.

No damage, still no damage. It wasn't enough. No physical outlet can diminish this desire for blood; for his blood on your hands. The restraint you need to hold on yourself was too much.

"And you truly believe you deserve this position?" he laughed. Lips outstretched in a menacing grin.

"How do you think Meleanor would react when she sees what you've done to this room?" He gestured to the dais behind you.

"You can't even control yourself."

And all you saw was red.

You shoved Lilia to the wall adjacent to you and slammed your lips on his dry ones. Neither of you are fools. The man held no hesitance nor did he fight you back. In fact, he relinquished in your misery.

He devoured your lips just as feverishly as you did. Hands pulling and gripping on his now messy hair while his own hands grasped on your clothes. His tongue savoured itself in your mouth, eliciting unwanted muffled moans before he easily flipped you two with you now against the wall.

"You're better off as a decoy," he growled against your lips, grabbing your thigh and hooking it around his waist. Your hands moved down to pull on his uniform, tugging the tormenting material that refused to show an ounce of his skin.

"You're better off dead," you snapped back when he moved down to bite, bite, on the side of your neck. Your nails dug on his nape as you continued to persistently rip through his clothes, only earning a small snap as the skin-tight material on his shoulder ripped just a bit.

He snickered against your neck. Tongue darting out to lay flat against the your throat and lick from your collarbone and up to your chin. Your breaths turned to pants as you're eye-to-eye with the General. His were half-lidded and yours were wide with desire — for what, you don't entirely know.

His slammed his lips again, this time, grabbing your other thigh and lifting you until they're wrapped around his waist. Pressing his clothed cock against your crotch as he groaned into your mouth. His free hand easily ripped your own uniform from the middle, exposing your unarmed chest him and the cold air of the room.

Your nipples immediately erected upon contact and he mercilessly pinched on one making you gasp and shudder while he sucked on your bottom lip. You were shaking now; both from anger and desire. He had too much power over you. You hated it. You loathed every single bit of it. You wished, you prayed, that he just loses it to whatever lurks in the forests and never return.

"Say it."

"Fuck you," you breathed, gritting your teeth after pulling away. Finally being able to snap the buckles of his chest armor and exposing the shirt beneath it. It hugged his body too well, too damn well. Tight against his bod, translucent as far as the mind can imagine. You want it gone, you want it all dispersed.

"You need to learn to respect your leaders." Lilia gripped pressed down your nipple, his thumb circling as he leered at your nudity. "Say it."

"Like hell you're my fucking leader," you snapped. "You're nothing. You're just a bastard of a fa—" you were cut off by your own throat. A loud moan escaped your lips when he bit on your nipples. His fangs barely teasing your sensitive tits. It was a hard bite. The other breast was being fondled and squeezed by his other hand. Your don't know where to lay your hands. You don't know what to grip.

You hate being inferior.

"Say it," he moaned as he sucked on your abused nip. You shivered and tilted your head against the wall, refusing to see his ministrations. You can feel how hard his cock was against your pelvis, grinding and pressing against your crotch. Your eyes settled on the statue of the thorn fairy behind him. Her eyes looked like they moved, now laughing at your state.

And unbeknownst to you, Lilia's hand shoved itself inside your pants, cupping your sex before rubbing his fingers on your groin. You arched your hips away as much as you can, only pressing your ass against the wall with no more room to move. Your mouth hang open as you looked down and stopped the whine that dared leave your throat.

"I'm giving you one last chance." There was a singing tone to his voice. He's smirking down at you while tauntingly pressing his fingers harder, rubbing slow circles as he can feel how wet you've become. It made you wither, it made you look away from his minacious gaze.

"Fuck..." you breathed out, tightening your legs around his waist as you thrusted your hips on his fingers. Closing your eyes and feeling the pleasure build up, the heat and coil to burn hotter inside you.

Before you were dropped to the ground with a yelp leaving your mouth. You snapped your head up, looking at him in surprise with furrowed eyebrows. He laughed while he shook his head then looked down at his slick-coated fingers and grinned. Shamelessly licking it off with a pop from his lips before leaning down and wiping it on your cheek.

"Clean up before the subordinates see you looking so..." His eyes trailed down your body with no word finishing his sentence. With a hand in his pocket he turned around and started walking away.

You were left baffled, annoyed, and weak. Your eyes followed his retreating figure and once his hand landed on the doorknob, before you could even control yourself, you blurted.

Just like he said.

You can't control yourself.

"G-General Vanrouge!"

You couldn't see it, but the smirk that danced on his face was more than enough to signify his victory. To have the dais crack when your back collided with the cold stone and your legs pulled apart and laid bare against his hips.

[aphroditelovesu]

yandere anne boleyn secretly seeing you headcanons!

❝ 🌹 — lady l: this is a really soft and sweet treat, but I wanted something like this for Valentine's Day, so here it is! I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes. ❤️🥰

❝tw: none, just fluff.

❝🌹pairing: soft yandere!anne boleyn x gender neutral!reader.

It had been weeks since you and the Queen exchanged glances and smiles when you thought no one was watching. You knew this was a dangerous game, you knew the Queen's reputation was tarnished by scandalous and dubious rumors, but that didn't matter to you, not when you found yourself fascinated more and more by her.

During one night, a night that you both knew Henry would be too busy with one of his mistress to care about his wife, Anne finally made the first move. She invited you to meet her in one of the gardens, in a dark and private place.

Against your better judgment, you accepted and that's how you ended up in the garden, with a dark veil covering you and carrying a small candle in your hand so that it wouldn't be completely dark. You only stopped walking when you saw the firelight of another candle, indicating who you were going to meet.

The garden was enveloped in a solemn silence, interrupted only by the soft rustling of leaves in the wind. It was a little unnerving, but you carried on. Holding the candle carefully, you approached the light that danced in the distance, indicating the presence of Anne Boleyn. Your heart beat wildly, a mixture of excitement and apprehension permeating your thoughts.

When you found her, her face illuminated by the flickering flame, everything around her seemed to fade away. Her eyes, shining with a captivating intensity, met yours, and for a moment the world seemed to freeze around you. There was a flame, a spark that shone in the Queen's beautiful blue eyes and you found yourself mesmerized.

"You came." Her voice, a soft whisper charged with emotion, broke the silence. Her presence exuded an irresistible magnetism, enveloping you in a spell you didn't want to escape.

"How could I resist such a tempting invitation, especially from my Queen?" You replied, your tone tinged with a hint of playfulness, as you approached her.

Anne smiled, her lips curving in a charming gesture, and then, on an irresistible impulse, you reached out to touch her. The contact was electric, sending waves of heat through your body as you lost yourself in the fleeting moment. Without thinking twice, she brought her body closer to yours and took your lips in a passionate kiss.

For a brief moment, the weight of responsibilities and consequences disappeared, replaced by the pure and intense connection between you. Under the cover of darkness, you were just two beings lost in the forbidden labyrinth of love. Anne's grip became tighter and more possessive, her arms not wanting to leave you for any moment.

It was just the two of you and that was more than perfect for Anne. You made her feel loved and wanted again and the thought of meeting you in the dead of night excited her in a way nothing before had. She never wanted this moment to end, desperately wanting to keep you in her arms.

But even in the dim light, the time was relentless, and the outside world began to intrude on your temporary refuge. With a reluctant sigh, you separated, aware of the lines that bound you and the consequences that awaited beyond the garden's boundaries. Anne didn't want to let you go, but she knew she had to. She couldn't risk you being accused of treason and ending up dead. She shuddered just at the thought of it.

"Until next time." You whispered, your heart heavy with the uncertainty of the future. You just knew you would have to see her more often, your body and your heart were begging for it. They begged for Anne's touch.

Anne nodded, her eyes capturing yours with a silent promise, before disappearing into the darkness. You had a feeling this wouldn't be the first time you'd met her. A story between you was about to happen, but would it have a happy ending? Only time will tell.

[katyspersonal]

Guys oh my gosh hgbghgg I am a GENIUS! I've finally figured an explanation for, at the first glance, unreasonable vitriol towards Godrick in the fandom! I should have became a psychology professor for this one but don't let me get ahead of myself ok so:

Like.. This can't be the fact that Godrick literally steals peoples limbs to attach to himself, right? Rykard does a similar thing - consumes people and makes them a part of his body, as all those arms sticking out of him are those of his victims. Also both of these characters appear hard to take seriously upon introduction; "i cOmAnD tHeE KNEEL" and "tOGETHAAAA" are equally silly xd But Rykard is really loved, right?

The difference between the two might happen because Rykard is that cool badass rebel against oppressive system, whereas Godrick willingly perpetuates it. But that can't be this piece, and this also can't be Tarnished-hunting. Because another character who simps for the Golden Order and is racist Tarnished-hunts is Morgott, who is also very loved. Adored, even!

I thought maybe Godrick hit the 'disrespecting women' nerve upon insulting Malenia, which is already a sore topic in the fandom? 🤔 But this is likely not true. Not only he himself is definitely not an incel, since Grafted Scions (his children) exist, but also it is all likely an insecurity. Godrick had that line where he called Malenia and Miquella "rank and malformed" when Godrick himself could be considered a disgrace ( 🥁 ) for the Golden Bloodline with his frail, weak build. He has large insecurities that he takes out on other discriminated people, so that certainly wasn't her gender. Again, many other loved characters also disrespect us for who we are, he isn't outstanding. Nor it is him being "pathetic" for escaping the battle he could not win in disguise or kissing Malenia's feet in apology: the 'pathetic old man' is ABSOLUTELY one of the favorite men types on Tumblr and Twitter! The girls (gender neutral) LOVE the 'pathetic old man', that vibe could not have provoked the hate.

Finally, it can't be the authors intention. Miyazaki confirmed Godrick to be a sympathetic character. So, you should feel bad for his situation of continuing the glory of that imposing bloodline that he is not fit for, and NPCs that dislike him are either within their own right to do so, or straight up hypocritical (like Kenneth). Subtexts, media literacy and so on can't be used as an arguement for why Godrick would be intended as repulsive character.

So... Yeah, it seems like there is no real reason for why Godrick should always be singled out, only brought up as a laughing stock, always brought in negative and mocking context in polls and headcanons compilation and bring his fans being seen as weirdos by an effect, right? Whatever reasoning might be the first responce is very easy to debunk! I think I've finally found an actual reasonable and sympathetic explanation as to why fandom dislikes and bullies him so much more than any other character that explains EVERYTHING! I am going to go under cut as this is the result of long, meticulous thinking and this post is already getting long, so here it is:

💫🌺 S K I L L!!! I S S U E!!! 💕🔥💫

[scarletttries]

Romeo Take Me Somewhere We Can Be Alone (Roman Roy Succession Request)

Part Two Available Now!

Pairing: Roman Roy (Succession) x Gender Neutral! Reader

Requests: "Roman x Mattson!reader? Forbidden/secret relationship?" AND "Perhaps some smut for Roman Roy? Maybe Roman being on the more submissive side? Thank you!"

Warnings: Smut, spoilers for the new season.

Word Count: 2.7k

Author's Note: Oh Roman, I'm going to pretend I haven't seen the latest episode so I can continue fancying you without having to think critically about this piece of media 🙃 Thank you to the ABSOLUTE genius that suggested a Mattson! reader, forbidden romance vibe, I loved the request and enjoyed writing this so much, I've gone full Romeo & Juliet! (More like Rome-eo, hahaha I felt like a genius for this). Also this is my first Roman smut so it was a bit of a challenge to try and keep it in the same tone i've written Roman in so far, but I hope you enjoy! As always keep the requests coming :D

Romey-o take me somewhere we can be alone

"Have you had enough of this little ass-kiss fucky fest yet?" You watched the little bubble pop up on your phone and looked across the party in reflex, scanning the crowd until you saw his smug little smile directed your way. You unlocked your phone to reply, scrolling up to glimpse the hundreds of messages between the two of you since you'd met that day at the woodlands company retreat three weeks ago.

***

"Problems working with your older brother? I can relate." You stepped out into the night air to find Roman hunched over the railing of the small balcony, hands threading through his hair so firmly he threatened to pull it out in clumps. His shoulders grew a little less tense as your voice washed over him, hands falling to the edge of ledge as he gestured for you to join him.

"So you're the younger Mattson? You could have fooled me, on account of you not being a massive dick." He laughed at the words but it came out hollow, watching his breath form a white wisp in front of his face in the cold night air.

"Thanks, I try my best to be an actual human being. I hear out of all the Roys you're the most favourable to be around too."

He turned his head sharply to really look at you, the sincerity in your tone and the measured kindness of your words catching his attention.

"Oh yeah?" He probed, hoping another almost compliment would fall from your lips before he did something to ruin this moment. Truth was he'd spend half the weekend watching the way you floated through the conference, poised, humble, soft; the antithesis of your brother Lucas. And so he'd avoided you, sure that any moment spent in your presence would only tarnish the shining light you carried so effortlessly.

"I like to think I've got good instincts for people, and I think there's something about you that's different from the rest of your family. And I mean that in a good way." You were thoughtful as you spoke, treading lightly around the slick man in front of you, sure that one wrong move would have him sprinting back inside, spitting venom in his words as he went.

"That's actually pretty nice to hear these days." Roman replied after a pause, now standing squarely to face you, searching your eyes for any hint of deception and mockery and instead finding a tranquility that washed over him in waves as you returned a smile he hadn't realised he was sharing.

"I'm really sorry about your father by the way. And I'm even more sorry that you have to be here right now." You grimaced at your brother's insistence that this weekend go ahead as planned, every ounce of humanity seeming to leave him the moment his bank account saw a certain amount of zeros. Roman nodded at your words, the taste of condolences still unfamiliar and bitter in his mouth, cursing his father for ruining yet another interaction for him, even from beyond the grave. You read his silence for the pain that it was and set your hand gently on top of his where it rested on the railing.

"Well I should go back inside before any of our siblings accuse us of fraternising with the enemy, but it was nice to meet you. I really mean that."

Panic rose up in the back of Roman's throat as you turned to move away, not yet ready for this moment to end, feeling better than he had in weeks. He ignored the voice crying out inside him to stay strong, to isolate himself, to trust no one, and instead caught your rising hand with his.

"Maybe we could fraternise just a little longer.

***

And so you and Roman had spent an evening sharing in the perils of being a younger sibling in your strange corporate worlds, swapping numbers and an unspoken agreement to keep this from your families as you departed the next day, Roman touching the spot on his cheek you had blessed with a gentle kiss when he snuck into your treehouse to say a real goodbye. And so followed weeks of secret texts and furtive phone calls, pouring out your souls until finally you were back in the same room, parted in a hotel lobby by a sea of political donors and movers and shakers, but feeling only one pair of eyes on you.

"I thought you'd never ask." You sent back in response, locking eyes with him once again and tipping your head toward an emergency exit you had checked led to a service elevator. From opposite sides of the room you each slipped through the crowd, trying your best to be unseen, aware that any of these prying eyes could collapse what you had delicately built with a single passing comment. As you reached the door you did a final scan to ensure there were no Waystar or GoJo members nearby who could catch a glimpse of this subtle rendezvous, before backing through the door yourself.

Roman stood waiting between the open elevator doors, looking almost bashful as you dashed towards him, vanishing into the small metal room as he let the door slide shut behind him.

"Thanks for holding it." You couldn't help the anticipation loaded in your tone, facing Roman and finding him stood barely an inch away from your blushing face.

"I had a feeling we were going to the same floor." He breathed out, eyes wide and hands shaking as they rose to brush either side of your face, the adoration clear in the gentle way his thumbs stroked your cheeks.

Before either of you could think your way out of something good, you leant forward, closing the gap between your lips and sending a whirlwind of warmth and glitter spinning through your bodies, the reunion more than worth the wait. His head bobbed forward to return the gesture, body following the movement until he was pressed entirely against you. It wasn't rough, or frantic, or urgent. It was like deep down you knew you'd be doing this forever, so you had all the time in the world to sweetly caress the nape of his neck, parting his lips for a content sigh that only let you taste more of him.

By the time the lift doors opened on your floor Roman could hardly remember where he began and you ended, unsure how he ever coped being half way across the planet from you, needing to keep you as close as he could for every second you could steal tonight. You could feel it too, the desperate pull of your heart towards him, the air of secrecy that only made you want him more, this forbidden fruit the sweetest you would ever taste.

You could feel his cheeks brush against yours as he fought back a smile at finally having you in his arms, and the physical confirmation you had been feeling this overwhelming chemistry too. He would have berated anyone else for believing in love at first sight, but as you rested your forehead softly against his, feeling the joy emanating between you, he didn't think this could be anything else. When you pushed the jacket free of his shoulders, helping him shrug away the fabric until it crumpled on the floor, he had to stop himself from pulling away. Not because he didn't want this with you. It was really the opposite; he couldn't remember ever feeling this way, ever wanting someone to be so close to him, to feel every part of him, and now he wanted that more than anything with you. But he was scared of being vulnerable, and insecure in his inexperience, completely unsure what real intimacy could even look like.

As you worked through the buttons on his shirt, you could see the gears whirring in his head, the unmistakable fear and excitement of a man that's seen a hard-drive's worth of porn but never felt the touch of a person that genuinely cares about them.

"We can stop?" You offered, pulling your hands away from his shirt, only for him to vigorously shake his head and rip it off himself, a stray button clattering across the floor, disrupting the heavy silence.

"I want to." He insisted, his eyes full of desperate desire as you brought your hands to his now bare chest, his heart hammering in anticipation inside. Unsure of what to do next, Roman firmly grabbed at your ass, voice wavering as he tried to take control, feeling like that should be his role,

"Do you like that, you fucking slut?" Both of your faces seemed to contort in discomfort as the words tumbled out of his mouth, his hand quickly releasing and his eyes clenching shut in embarrassment.

"Sorry Rome, I don't even think you like that?" You questioned softly, bringing your fingertips to sweep delicately over the creases in his forehead, his brow slowly unfurrowing as he blinked his eyes open to see you again.

"Fuck, sorry, I was trying to, you know, talk dirty, be sexy." He waved his hands in a gesture of uncertainty as he spoke, surprised you weren't laughing at him or taking the opportunity to run for the door.

"You know talking doesn't have to be degrading to be sexy?" You replied, the calm, confident smile on your face matched by the alluring look in your eye leaving Roman feeling like a deer in headlights, but praying the car will crash right into him.

"Oh yeah?" He gulped, eyes wide as you nodded, pushing him gently so he could step backwards towards the end of the bed. He let himself drift in your current as your touch laid him backwards, every wave of contact soothing his nerves.

"Can I show you?" You breathed in his ear, settling your thighs either side of his legs, feeling all the more powerful for being fully dressed as his bare chest heaved beneath you.

"Please." He begged softly, letting his eyes flutter shut as your lips found his again, fingers tracing a path down his stomach until they reached his belt.

"I'm so glad I got to see you tonight." You sighed against his lips as you began to undo the buckle, feeling his hips twitch, reacting to even the slightest touch. His head leant forward, trying to chase your lips as you spoke, needy for the taste of your kiss as you released the zip and buttons in your way.

"Me too." He eventually sighed out as your lips moved out of his reach, mapping a course across his cheek until you reached the edge of his jaw, applying a little more pressure until you heard the low rumble of moan escape his lips.

"I like hearing you enjoy yourself." You purred, confidence building as he relaxed against your touch, submitting to your control, putty in your hands. Marking a sweet constellation of kisses over his neck you slowly slipped your hand inside his boxers, running one finger over the length of him and feeling him buck up to meet your touch. Roman had never felt both so excited and so relaxed at the same time, never this comfortable with someone exploring his body before, but feeling like he wanted to give every inch over to your control, sure your loving touch could put all the broken pieces of him back together.

You wrapped your hand around his hard length, pumping over him a few times to gage his reaction. His eyebrows scrunched down towards his nose, lips parting as a moan seemed to reverberate through his whole body.

"Does that feel good?" Your tone was sweet, if not a little teasing, sucking on a spot on his throat that seemed to leave him barely able to spit out an 'uh-uh' in response.

"Good, I want to make you feel good, Roman. Will you let me make you feel good?" You praised, bobbing your head down to his chest and picking up the pace of your rubbing hand. Ability to think and speak quickly surrendered, Roman just nodded, for once unable to think of a quippy comeback and just enjoying someone else taking control and being with him so intimately. He'd touched himself like this hundreds of times, thinking cruel, perverse little thoughts the whole time until he was left sitting in a puddle of his own self-contempt. But with you it felt like something new entirely, something positive, and warm, and with each soft praise and gentle kiss that poured from your lips and landed squarely on his chest he could feel his heart lifting, thinking maybe there's a reason he'll only ever thought of it as 'fucking' and not 'making love'.

Your lips drifted down to his chest, gingerly placing a kiss on one nipple and smiling at the way he squirmed under you, eyes now staring down at you in full adoration like you were the most wondrous miracle he could have dreamt of. You could feel his cock starting to twitch in your hand, cooing over him again, sure this wouldn't be the last time the two of you spend a night hiding in the sheets together.

"You're doing so well, Roman. Good boy."

"You feel - so - good." He panted out, the praise bringing him close to the edge before he could really think enough to stop it. Ignoring your own desire stirring up inside your stomach, you gripped your hand on him a little firmer, leaving the other to trace faint circles over his chest, the lingering damp of your kisses only making him more sensitive. Crashing your lips back against his you swallowed his moan before breathing out,

"Cum for me, Rome, please." His lips pressed hard against yours as his hips started to shake, unable to hold back for a second longer and spilling hot white ropes across his stomach, almost whimpering at his sensitive release, overstimulated but still whining the second you released your grip.

His hands reached up to capture your face, somehow trying to portray a lifetime's worth of gratitude and affection in a single overwhelming kiss, before finally releasing you to breathe. As you rose up onto your knees, surveying the smiling fool of a man lying beneath you, you couldn't help but laugh at the state of both of your suit trousers, marred with streaks of sticky white.

"We might need to hide up here for a while until we get cleaned up and dried off, or this might be hard to explain."

"You don't think we could say two seperate waiters happen to get lucky?" Roman rebuffed, pulling a disgusted face as he wiped a finger over the fluid pooling on his stomach.

"Or one waiter got very lucky?" You suggested with a smile, Roman using every ounce of remaining strength to sit up until his lips could find their way to yours.

"No-one's that lucky, so I guess we better stay hidden. I reckon there's a lot more stuff you could show me anyway." Roman's eyes drifted down your body eagerly, wondering exactly what else he'd been missing by never trying it with the right person.

"You don't think the party will miss us?" You teased, pretending to bat away his eager hands.

"What party?" He scoffed, letting you capture him by the wrists and pulling you back to lie with him, falling so you pinned his wrists either side of him, a position he was more than happy to end up in.

"What about our families?" You couldn't help the worried tinge in your voice as you remembered the seemingly insurmountable barrier that stood between yours and Roman's lives. With unusual sincerity he gazed up into your eyes and said softly,

"Fuck 'em, you're my family now."

[binah-beloved]

Arbiters Do Not Believe in Tears

Binah x Reader Android AU Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: Descriptions of small injuries and death

~ * ~

Androids do not feel. It is not an opinion, it is a fact, told constantly to everyone and anyone. Androids do not have capacity for emotions. They are here to use, to be used, to serve those who bought and own them because they can never be anything but owned. You know this. The world knows this. Everybody knows this, and those who believe otherwise are called foolish, tearing an inevitable cackling laugh from people’s throats as they slap the table, how stupid and silly, how naive! They’re words you ponder as you continue your life’s work of creating and welding and repairing, your dingy house filled with bits of metal, bobs you found tossed aside. One person’s junk is another’s treasure, although some would call you an idiot for thinking you could make something out of nothing. But nothing is never nothing. And perhaps you are an idiot, or stupid, or silly, or foolish or naive, or perhaps some combination of everything, when you pull a discarded android out under the scrapheap.

Black, gold, and porcelain, once pristine and now tarnished. The interlocked hexagons immediately mark the android as an Arbiter class, models only available to the wealthiest and most influential people. Yet this one has been thrown away and left to rot, rust decorating her elegant features, and a frown flits across your face. Someone must have been very frivolous, or perhaps very cruel, to toss aside an Arbiter android without a thought. It’s not surprising. Those types are all fat old fools, after all. Nothing to it but resources, you try to tell yourself. But your hands lay flat on the android’s shoulders and refuse to curl, taking not one bit of metal from her. The gears in your head turn, fingers tracing and examining every patch of rust and severed wire and those closed eyes, neutral and silent. “Fixable.” Your voice comes out in a whisper, carefully hefting her onto your back and hurrying away, just as the sun begins to set.

It becomes a personal project of yours, an attempt to repair a disabled Arbiter as you scrounge around for different parts to use. You’re not even sure what metal she’s made of, something high quality and cold and much, much too expensive for you to even have a chance of glimpsing, but slowly your list fills with checkmarks and new cuts join old scars on your hands from your work. Gloves cost too much, and your fingers are essentially dead in feeling anyways. The android sits on your workbench, the corpse of an effigy, and doesn’t move. In truth, you’re not expecting her to be alive. The rational part of your brain keeps repeating the facts, over and over. Clearly, she was shut down. She can’t be repaired. She will never wake up. You’re excellent at not listening to those thoughts, letting your body methodically move while you keep your mind blank apart from the spark of hope twinkling in the center. Maybe, just maybe, your skills will suffice. Maybe. There’s a twitch from her fingers, and you pause, breath dying in your chest. They move again, more this time, slowly curling and uncurling into a fist before the android’s body jolts and clicking whirs fill the room as symphonic noise. Slowly, she sits upright, and slowly, you take a few steps back, unable to keep yourself from staring as her golden earring sways. Her eyes open like a splash of midnight, and she’s staring directly back at you, voice coming out flat and cold.

“I am Arbiter model 008, designation Garion. What are your orders?” You open your mouth, then close it again, not her original owner nor another member of the elite. You could say nothing. You could simply keep your mouth shut, and she would leave as an Arbiter to find a new directive. You could turn your back and pretend like you saw nothing. But you know and she knows that there’s nowhere for her now. “…Stay a while.” And she does. She becomes a constant shadow, watching you silently from a corner in your little, decrepit house. For several days the android simply stands there, doing and saying nothing but observing your every movement. Occasionally you look up from your work, meeting her bored black gaze, and you wave. At first there’s nothing, but gradually her head tilts at your small actions and the kind smile you give her. One day, she waves back, stiff and a little awkward, but it makes you perk up nonetheless. She moves closer, more freely, beginning to explore the house when you’re bent over pieces of metal and solder, before standing directly behind you and watching you work with a flicker of interest, although she rarely answers to her designated title. Something is disconnected, unfitting, and you take to simply calling her “Dear” from the pool of sweet sincerity in your heart. You answer when she asks questions, not berating or sneering but giving her a nod and swift demonstrations and free reign to examine anything she wants. So she sits, the nameless android, and reads every book you have to offer, cold fingers tracing over one word again and again. It’s that word she holds close to her when she approaches you one day, a hint of apprehension in her eyes. 

“…I would like for you to call me Binah, from now on.” She’s amazed at her audacity to request something as an android, a tool, a weapon to be used. What’s more incredible is your response, a nod and a gentle agreement that it suits her. For the first time, Binah smiles a little. Binah is never apart from you after that. Wherever you go, she goes, even if it’s simply to find more supplies or to watch the stars come out. She’s always there, a quiet, constant presence by your side. There are flashes and glints of feeling, slowly, as she begins to separate things she likes and dislikes and learn, always learning more and more with keen interest. She likes the night sky, books, the scent of tea. She despises too much noise, too many people, those who never listen. You, she finds, she likes immensely.

She never tells you this verbally, but you know when her fingers curl around yours and your hand presses against her cool cheek, eliciting a shudder as she practically melts against your touch. Some people ask if she’s yours when they see her behind you, carefully watching for any threats. You always deny it, every time. The thought of being Binah’s owner makes your stomach turn, seeing and accompanying her during her growing sentience and awareness as an individual. But she interrupts you one day when that familiar question rises again, answering with a monotonous yes and an icy glare until the person who asked runs off in a panic. You blink, turning to look at her only for cool, heavy arms to wrap around your waist, her hand over your beating, human heart. “I am yours, and you are mine. If you will have me.” Her words are firm and laced with certainty, the gentle touch of her fingers betraying her hidden, developing emotions. You stare at Binah and merely nod, and she softens briefly to bump her forehead against yours.

You were told that androids couldn’t do a lot of things. They don’t feel, don’t form attachments, don’t understand bonds or gentleness. Everything is proven wrong, to your delight. It has never felt so good to be wrong, wrong about each “fact” that tried to force its way into your head. Wrong, except for one. Androids cannot die. Not in the way that humans do. Everyone knows this. Binah knows this. You knew this. They could be shut down, or lose their directive, but Arbiters were made to survive. You had told her about death, your fingers laced with hers during your evening walk. “Humans rot underground, but I like to think that eventually we grow into flowers again. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Yes. It would be nice. Her words go unspoken.

Binah stands in the rain, wrapped in the coat you made for her after she discarded the golden hexagons to remain with you. Of course, there’s no cold to her, but you loved and she loved the fabric, the way you would tuck yourself into the front while she was still wearing it. She idly twists her rings; one, two, three; resting on her favorite on the left hand. “I am Arbiter model 008, designation Garion. What are your orders?” Her voice is as apathetic and even as the day you first met, drizzle clouding her vision and wetting her synthetic hair. You always told her it was soft and smooth, and she couldn’t help but lean against your hands whenever you pet it. “…I am Arbiter model 008, designation Garion. What are your orders?” Her fingers lace together and grip hard, the same crushing force that has killed countless people, yet treated you so gently. She always was fond of caressing your face, feeling the way your skin dipped under her careful touch. Fascinating. Wonderful. Human.

“…I am Binah, your android. Please…” Instinctively, she reaches out for your presence, trembling minutely and unable to keep the repressed waver out of her tone. “…What are your orders…?” Androids also cannot cry. Almost none of them are made with it in mind, even less so Arbiters who are made to kill and maim. But Binah feels, and wishes that she could so. “…I miss you.” The rain weeps in exchange, and a lone android sinks to her knees in the flower field where you’re buried. 

[deersalad]

Ok so after rewatching that one powerpak video about myhouse.wad last night I've woken up with a lot of feelings and I'm going to share

This time around I read a trans metaphor in the mod, there's a very distinct degendering of Tom over the course of the mod, notably when you pick up the milkshake the text says "the kid needs a milkshake"

That on its own isn't that strong but what really strikes me is how little gendering there is elsewhere, Tom and Steve were both born in 1988 based on ages at death, they would've come of age in the 90s so not a time period where there's really a movement to give gender neutral upbringings to kids and yet we never really see anything indicating that Tom is a boy. No sporting equipment, no bright blue toys, nothing. In a mod with so much care and detail put into every little corner it feels like a glaring omission.

In fact in the burned house the items you can find are a diary with the pickup text, tarnished history and a teddy bear with the text, innocence lost. There is also the presence of the one item that's a stuffed animal that's got the text, snugs.

The animals aren't automatic indicators of being raised as a girl (although they can be read that way, they are gender neutral for little kids) but the diary is interesting. Again all of these are very minor things but when details of Steve's father's death are hidden away in his obituary and the hospital room, both of which you can easily miss, then it feels like meaning can be read into these items.

The two details that really made me think about this are the usage of Tom's last name in the hearts with him and Steve and the bloody airport bathroom. The fact that the initials used aren't S+T is odd but it sorta makes sense if Tom isn't his birth name. Whatever was his birth name is something he would've disliked if it was feminine and he felt dysphoria and so he would've used his last name instead, something that I know happens among some trans people.

Finally, in the airport bathroom we see that it specifically or bathrooms in general are a traumatic space. The pill bottles have an obvious connection, substance abuse is an easy line to draw with the environment of the bathroom. But what stands out most is the fact that the male and female signs on the bathrooms switch when you exit the bloodied bathroom. That's something so jarring that it feels like it has to have meaning, it's so easy to miss but feels so significant. It could just be intended to shock and offput but it's not scary, it's just a change. It's a literal gender change.

Some of the memories also seemingly take place in or around 2001, the fear of the plane crashing, JJ Hardy playing in 2001 and signing the baseball, the presence of Shrek. Tom and Steve would have been around 12-14 in this time period and that's when puberty starts for many people. The bathroom literally becomes a scene of bloody horror which makes sense if Tom experienced a period and it was traumatic for him.

Any of these on their own aren't conclusive but all together it feels like it weaves a larger message. Memories of childhood are degendered to avoid the pain of remembering of a dysphoria inducing childhood. Tom actively uses his last name instead of his first name. And the literal gender change of the bathroom signs. To me it reads that the character of Tom is a trans man and that plays further into the trauma of his childhood and I think whether done intentionally or not it makes sense to some extent.

[yanderes-galore]

Could I request a romantic yandere alphabet for Rennala (Elden Ring), please?

🕊️ anon

I researched her and Elden Ring lore the best I could. Sorry if she seems OOC. I sort of see her as a platonic yandere and I couldn't find much personality-wise. However, I hope the wait was worth it. I had to end up changing the pairing to general due to her :( I'm so sorry... girl is messed up in the head, she probably can't see the difference at this point.

Yandere Alphabet - Rennala

Pairing: Platonic/Romantic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Isolation, Kidnapping, Manipulation, Regression, Delusional behavior, Dark themes, Forced "relationship"/companionship.

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

Rennala is a tragic character in Elden Ring. After her husband leaving her (That portion gets complicated) and her being locked away in the Grand Library at the academy... she's lost her mind. Rennala appears as a calm individual, but her studies into Reincarnation magic and her isolation have rot her mind.

She's reincarnated many of the Juvenile Scholars who used to attend the academy to the point they have no memories. The way she treats others seems to be that of a mother. She struggles with attachment as when her husband left, so did her heart.

Rennala seems like she'd isolate her obsession. You'd either be a Scholar or Tarnished. Her affection would be soft... but smothering.

The Full Moon Queen is determined to not lose another. She's already lost her husband, perhaps even some of her "Sweetings". Which means she'd keep you locked away and smothered like a mother's love.

She clings to you like she does her amber egg. You are never far from the royal queen. Her affection and touch is soft... but oppressive.

Even if her feelings are romantic towards you, you're often coddled. It's as though that's the only way she can cope with her losses. You'll be kept right by her side...

Even if magic must be used to keep things that way.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Rennala is strong but she seems more defensive and reclusive. She's capable of getting her hands dirty. However, she chooses not to, instead preferring to isolate you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

You'd probably be treated like one of her "Sweetings". She clearly has a stronger connection with you... but treats you the same. Even if you were a Tarnished, she'd probably have you locked away in her library (Maybe with Ranni's help-).

She would never mock you. You are her beloved, the one that fills the void where her heart once was. She'd never want to hurt you.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

Rennala is mostly passive. She isn't too forceful, just clingy and smothering. The only thing against your will is your inability to leave the library.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

I imagine quite a lot. Rennala is a vulnerable woman after her husband left. Once she finds someone to fill the void, I highly doubt she's letting them go. She's very vulnerable with you when she holds you.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

I have a feeling Rennala is delusional in a way. She probably wouldn't view you fighting back as, well, fighting back unless you were heavily armed. She wouldn't understand it and would instead try to soothe you with soft words.

When in reality... you just want to leave... you don't want to be soothed... it really makes you feel like some petulant child. Even if you're so much more than that to her.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

Not a game and she does not enjoy escape.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

It's definitely either the isolation... or the regression that would come eventually. I would not doubt Rennala would reincarnate her obsession to keep them beside her. Subconsciously, she wants you reliant on her.

If you're reliant... You'll never leave her... You'll be hers forever.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Considering her mental state, it's most likely her wanting to cling to you for all of eternity through consistent cycles of reincarnation to keep you hers.

Dark, isn't it?

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Not really, she's too delusional to experience jealousy with you since you both are isolated. Even if she was, she seems like she'd quietly cope.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

Calm and quiet, often talking to you in a hushed tone. Due to her past she has trouble showing love properly. Which means she's usually clinging to you tightly and pressing soft kisses to your head like you're her precious egg. You're never outside of the library, yet allowed to read within it.

She's always watching you...

Ready to love her Sweeting with all of her heart (or what she has left of it....).

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

There isn't really any courting unless you two met before she lost her mind. Even then, she doesn't cling until she loses her husband. After that... "courting" is just "isolation".

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Not really except she clings to you more than others. She's usually calm and soft-spoken all the time.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

The only thing that comes to mind for me is forced reincarnation. All in an attempt to weed out any fight or disobedience. Love with her gets complicated.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

I would assume all of them, even if she doesn't realize it.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Extremely patient. Isolation does that to people.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

Honestly? Is it possible for her to be worse mentally than she already is? She probably either couldn't lose you due to her hold on you... or would be too delusional to notice.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

No and she could never let you go.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

Definitely the mass amount of trauma her story has (Husband abandoning her, academy betraying her...). That's what caused her attachment issues... among other things.

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

She'd soothe you like she usually does, even if it makes you cry harder. She doesn't understand your pain. She just sees you crying and thinks soft touches and kisses will fix it.

Soon you may just forget why you're crying.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

SKIPPED.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

I can't really... think of one. Honestly, even if you tried to exploit a weakness of hers, would Ranni let you?

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

Not intentionally.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

I suppose in a way you could consider her nature worshipping. She'd do anything to keep the one she loves beside her. Even if it means giving them the magic equivalent of a lobotomy.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

There's no pining. She just... latches on the moment she sees you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

Unintentionally.

[saruman-the-silly]

can we get some angst/fluff where terzo was just dragged off stage and fem reader comforts him and cooks him his favorite food and makes him all better?

ABSOLUTELY god I love this idea, thank you!!!! I could not resist adding the reader being a part of the confrontation, I'd imagine any of us would beat their asses for dragging Terzo off the stage so violently. I tried to make it with a fem!reader in mind but this is probably very gender neutral anyway, sorry :D (I probably should practice writing gendered characters more lol)

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A Bitter Finale

tags: terzo x fem!reader, hurt/comfort

They dragged him off the stage.

You were fuming, when you pushed your way through the crowd to the back. Heart racing and heavy, you rushed backstage, and you heard him yelling. You quickly threw your hair up in a ponytail, getting it out of your face.

You silently sneaked to Omega's dressing room and grabbed the baseball bat you had taken with you. (You were supposed to go playing with the ghouls after the tour, but looks like it would have other uses now.)

"What are you doing, I have to get back on stage, you cannot do this-"

"You had your final warning and still, you did not listen. This cannot continue, Terzo." The cold voice of Sister Imperator was heard.

You had enough.

You emerged from the shadows, and struck the man holding Terzo by the arms. When he tried to get up, you kicked him in the guts. You swept the other guy off his feet with the bat, and when he hit the ground with a thud, you swung the bat at his knees, hearing a cracking sound when it hit.

"Hands. Off." You sneered at them, before kneeling beside Terzo.

He squeezed your hand and smiled weakly, "Il mio salvatore, grazie amore." You helped him up, and faced Sister Imperator.

"The public has been riddled with rumours of a new Papa, and we cannot have your performance tarnish the reputation of the Ministry." Sister said coolly.

"What abou-" Terzo tried to interject, but Sister held up a hand.

"You are done. You were given one task and you could not do even that, so, your time is up." Sister smiled coldly.

"It is time for a new era."

When Sister left, Terzo crumbled to the ground and started sobbing. You kneeled down beside him, rubbing his back and hugging him.

"They cannot do this, I was in the middle of a show-" He sobbed, clinging on to you. You shushed him gently, "I know, I know, but we gotta get you home now, we can discuss this more then and there, not here."

You helped him up and led him out of the venue, hearing distantly Nihil getting on the stage.

When you got home, Terzo just collapsed. He couldn't even get a word out through his sobs so you held him tightly, running your fingers through his hair gently and whispering reassuring words into his ear.

When Terzo had calmed down enough, you tried to get up and he held onto you, not wanting you to go.

"Amore, you need to take your paints off," You said, running your hands through his hair. "Will you come with me to the bathroom so I can take care of you?" He nodded, getting up and letting you lead him to the bathroom.

You got out all of the skincare he used (which was a lot but hey, the paints were quite intense and wouldn't disappear with just water) and started gently wiping his paints off.

Terzo looked at you, eyes red and glossy from crying, and asked: "..Are you going to leave me?"

You dropped the moisturizer on the floor, shocked. You gently cupped his face, and looked at his eyes.

"No. Never. What they did tonight was wrong on so many levels I cannot even begin to describe it, and it makes me enraged they would treat you like this." You gently kissed his forehead, Terzo closed his eyes and gave a sigh of relief.

"Grazie. I thought- I thought that-"

You put a finger to his lips. "No more of that now, we will discuss what we need to do tomorrow." You finished by washing his face gently with warm water, and patting him dry with a fluffy towel.

"Now, you, my darling will go and pick a trashy soap opera to watch while I make us some food, okay?" Terzo tried to object, but you kissed him to make him shut his mouth.

"I'll bring it out when it's ready, just turn the volume high so I can hear what's happening." He smiled, kissed you on the top of your head and did as he was told.

The rest of the evening was spent by eating some great food and watching a trashy soap opera. Omega came by to check on Terzo, and was relieved to see he was doing okay. (Well, not okay but with the situation at hand? He was doing a lot better than most would.)

When you had eaten and finished the soap opera, you were laying down on the couch with Terzo beside you. You gently drew some shapes with your fingers on his back, while he breathed in your calming, sweet scent.

"I still cannot believe it.. Why would she do this.." Terzo whispered, tearing up slightly. You continued to trace circles on his back with your fingers, and contemplated a response.

"Honestly? I don't know. For all I know that old hag deserves to have her nose broken." Terzo snorted at that, and you grinned.

"But listen, we don't know what made Imperator do this, but the most important thing now is to stick together." You sat up beside Terzo. "We don't know what she has planned so we need to tread carefully." Terzo looked serious.

"I won't let them do anything to you. I'll kill them myself if they touch you." He said, frowning, while holding your hand.

You smiled, and cupped his cheek. "I know darling. And I'll bash their skulls in with my trusty bat if they plan to do something with you." You flashed him an angelic smile.

Terzo laughed, and hugged you tightly. You kissed his cheek. "I mean it. You're stuck with me, amore." He smiled, eyes bright.

"And I wouldn't have it any other way."

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

there ya have it, some angst/fluff with Terzo :D I apologize, the reader's gender isn't really specified that much, I just struggle to write gendered characters soo I hope thats okay!

anyway thaaank you for reading and enjoy <33

[burnedwriter]

‘’you have the sweetest moans’’

A/n:i recently got bloodborne and elden ring and i have been obsessed with those games,so i decided to write some fic of one my fav character.hope you enjoy!

warnings:rough bj,mild dirty talking,!gender-neutral language used,tarnished!reader

mdni!!

‘‘oh my lambkin~’‘ varrè moaned with a hand over his mouth trying to muffle his moans but unltimetly failing.You have had enough of his snarky remarks and how he teased you by brushing his hands against your body only to play stupid afterwards when you confronted him about it and pretend that it didnt happen leaving you frustrated.You didnt know if you liked or hated him for that.

Varrè leaned against the stone wall,with his pants all the way down to his ankles as you kneeled before him,his cock now being inches away from your lips.Teasing him a bit you started giving kitten licks at the tip,tasting the salty precum that started to leak and earning a couple grunts from the already needy varre,before you started to lowly taking him in,placing your hands on his thighs trying to keep his hips from twitching so he doesnt gag you.

‘‘your mouth feels so warm my lambkin’‘varrè choked out even though you were in control his smug tone never leaving his voice,you never knew what ricks he could have up his sleeve.

Getting adjusted with your mouth being full,you started to bop your head back and forth at a slow pace,his hand caressing your cheek,drawing circle with his thumb,looking up at him even though he was wearing a white emotionless mask ,his eyes did all the talking,his gaze filled with lust as he looked down at you.

Varrè got impatient from your slow pace,placing a hand in your hair taking control over your pace,even if you couldnt see it varre had the biggest smirk under that mask,as you realized your plan to punish him failed,turning the pace into a brutal one and now fully facefucking you as you choked on his cock,hitting the back of your throat over and over again.Tears started to run down your cheeks but varre quickly sweeping them away with hand.

With his actions you could feel your own arousal building up,as you felt a knot that started to form in your lower abdomen,seeing varre be so dominant yet so needy,almost like it flicked a switch inside you,letting out a moan you didnt know you were holding.

‘‘i didnt know you liked being treated like a common whore lambkin’‘varrè breathed out,hearing you moan aganist his cock, his chest heaving up and down as his breath became more draged out,his cock throbbing in your mouth indicating he was close to finishing soon.

‘’my lambkin, ah~im coming~’’he exclaimed before releasing his seed down your throat,pulling way from you leaving you time to swallow it,he removed his hand way from your hair thinking that it was over but little did he know you werent going to stop,getting a couple breathes through your nose you started to bop your head again,taking back the control you once had.

‘‘fuck~lambkin’‘he whined feeling the warmth of your mouth back on his cock,his hips started jolting,as he was being overstimulated.

oh...no...no..no,he wasnt going to get away that easily,you wanted to hear more from him,hearing him beg and that was the last thing you were going to do.

[cat3ch1sm]

Alright, first things first, I hope you are doing fine and stay positive for anything in your life, I don't know you but stay safe and healthy^^

I kinda feel bad bc I have already requested from you and I don't want to pressure you.

But I need more Kurapika context bc I have already read everything about him on here and I wanted some more

Okay, onto the actual thing now😅

I still remember that scene when Kurapika comes in the hotel with the scarlet eyes on gift package and that idk-remember-his-fucking-name rich dude which he punched later (or before?😅) started talking shit and then he said "Idc who I kill right now".

So like, what if the Reader, who has no moral compass or anything( like a Zoldyck), gets seriously enraged and starts punching and kicking him until Kurapika tells them to stop (I love the clueless with morals x no morals and entirely devoted to them)

Take your time, I don't mind, and stay safe and sound ^^

Love ya🦋

🌿~ hello, my lovely insect hashira! don’t feel bad for requesting again, you can send as many requests as you’d like. here’s your request, ily<33

☕️~ also sorry if some things aren’t totally accurate to the actual scene and stuff😭been a minute since i watched that particular arc

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ gender neutral reader (may be fem!leaning), mentions of violence and blood ahead

It was a dark night- literally and figuratively. The sky was a deep shade of blue, and it was almost midnight. But Yorknew City was far from at peace. The notoriously terrifying and powerful group of thieves known as the Phantom Troupe, or the Spiders, had just unleashed a brutal attack on the city’s largest underground auction, resulting in the disappearances and the deaths of hundreds. The whole city was in a state of chaos and panic, and the mafia group you worked for’s job was to be in the center of it- despite the state the city was in, you still had a job to do, and against all odds you’d managed to pull it off- along with your colleague, Kurapika.

Regardless of the success of your particular task, the walk back to the hotel was silent, the mood between the two of you grim. You were shaken by the loss of several your coworkers and the carnage you’d witnessed, while Kurapika, walking beside you, carried the item you’d won at the auction close to his chest, his eyes not even visible behind the shadow cast over his face. Inside the small box he held were the Scarlet Eyes- one of the only pairs left following the massacre of his family, the Kurta Clan. Despite how you may have been feeling, you knew for a fact he felt worse, knowing he was carrying the eyes of a dead family member, their memory disrespected and tarnished by the greed of the mafia.

Neither of you said anything while you were walking, the mood so heavy it seemed to weigh down on your throat, preventing you from speaking. You wanted to say something to soothe Kurapika, but you knew that really, there wasn’t anything you could say to help him, and you felt very sad for him as you watched him with his head low and his aura despairing.

It was then, though, as you two were crossing a bridge, that you saw a silhouette in front of you. It was Zenji, the short, pudgy man with a big nose and glasses that had been pestering you and Kurapika earlier as Nostrade’s bodyguards, appearing over and over again just to criticize you two and mock your skills and how young you both were, calling you both incompetent. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise that he was there all of a sudden, but you knew that it was absolutely the wrong time for him to be here. You stole a glance over to Kurapika, wondering if he saw the man in front of him, but his dark demeanor didn’t change, and he simply continued to walk.

As you two got closer to Zenji, neither of you acknowledging the man’s presence, he lifted his beady eyes and fixed them right on Kurapika. “Bastard.” He scoffed, his eyes narrowed. “You think you can just walk away?”

You figured he was talking about Kurapika’s blatant dismissals of Zenji’s insults earlier, and how Kurapika had punched him after he got a little too cocky. You guessed Zenji’s ego (and nose) had been injured, and now the idiot was here to get even. But Kurapika just kept walking, still ignoring Zenji. You knew he was in somewhat of a catatonic state after gaining the Scarlet Eyes, and you didn’t want this guy to agitate Kurapika further. So you chose to not engage simply for Kurapika’s sake, even though every muscle in your body screamed to beat this man to the ground.

He turned his attention to you now. “You too. Neither of you are getting off easy tonight.”

It took everything to not reply to Zenji, but you knew more drama tonight wouldn’t be good for you or Kurapika. So you didn’t acknowledge him, either.

Zenji was clearly agitated by being ignored, his jaw clenching as he let out a growl. “Tsk…”

Still no response from either of you.

Zenji, reaching his limit, finally reached for a gun strapped into his belt and pointed it at Kurapika, then you, then back at Kurapika. “Stop before I blow your heads off!”

“Move.”

The sound of Kurapika’s voice seemed to startle both you and Zenji, both of you turning abruptly to look at Kurapika. His voice was low and ominous, sending a chill down your spine when you heard it.

Zenji’s eyes widened with fear and fury, and he cocked the gun at Kurapika. “Don’t be-“

“Just stop.” Kurapika spoke again. Just then, you noticed an odd light from the corner of your eye- and when you hesitantly turned your gaze to Kurapika, you felt your stomach turn at the sight. His eyes were glowing a menacingly deep red, his hair hanging in loose blonde strands over his shadowy face. There were no words to describe the raw fury in his expression, and Zenji stumbled backwards in surprise, letting out a fearful gurgle.

“I don’t care who I kill right now,” Kurapika intoned, the glowing of his eyes only getting brighter and brighter as his rage increased. “And it might as well… be you.”

Zenji’s whole body was shaking now from pure fear, the only thing leaving his mouth incoherent croaks. The aura Kurapika was radiating was so intensely foreboding and malevolent that, even if it wasn’t directed at you, you couldn’t help your blood from running ice-cold. But once the trepidation settled in your stomach, you felt the anger begin to bubble up in your own mind. For someone to drive Kurapika to want to kill without cause… to awaken his fury like this- as Kurapika moved closer and closer to Zenji, who was frozen in his place, you knew instantly that you couldn’t let Kurapika go down like this. Zenji simply was not worth it.

And before you knew it, you found yourself flying at Zenji, fists raining down onto the man like a merciless hailstorm and your feet slamming into his doughy body with as much force as you could manage. Both you and him crashed to the ground, Zenji grunting in pain with every hit you delivered to him. You didn’t even really know what your goal was; all you knew was that you wanted to hurt him, swinging at the most painful areas you knew of: pummeling at his mouth, eyes, nose, and kicking at his crotch. Blood and saliva flew from his mouth as you managed to knock out a tooth, and his already injured nose began gushing blood like a waterfall. You clawed at his clothes and shattered his glasses, everything but a blur in front of your eyes.

Then, abruptly, you felt someone grab you from behind and yank you harshly from Zenji’s battered body, but you were still swinging, not ready to let him go. Zenji scrambled backward on all fours, blood staining his face and tie and his suit full of rips.

You struggled violently against the hands that held you back, twisting and thrashing in every way possible to try and break free, falling to the ground and taking Kurapika with you. “Y/N! Y/N, stop!” Kurapika shouted, keeping his grip on you despite how much you fought him. “Stop it!”

For a moment the words didn’t register, the only thing on your mind being Zenji, but when your rage-clouded mind cleared you remembered Kurapika’s voice, finally stopping your struggling. Kurapika let out an exhausted sigh. “There you go. Y/N, it’s just me- restrain yourself, alright?”

When you finally looked up at Kurapika, breathing heavily and body still heated with fury, his expression had faded from his previously seething one to a more melancholy expression. The anger was still there, of course, his eyes still a luminescent scarlet- but as he looked at you, you didn’t feel the anger as you had felt it earlier. You allowed your body to relax, slumping over a bit with your head resting on his chest. You both were sitting in the middle of the street, Kurapika behind you.

“Why did you stop me?” you asked, sounding exhausted yourself. Your fists were bruised, achy, and stained with Zenji’s blood. “I thought- I thought you wanted to kill him.”

Kurapika exhaled again, breaking eye contact with you and staring straight ahead. “It was just a warning, really. I couldn’t kill him because the repercussions would get in the way of my goals for the future.”

“So why didn’t you let me do it?” you pressed, genuinely perplexed. “I have no such compunction. I could’ve just killed him.” Your jaw tightened. “God knows he deserved it.”

Kurapika looked back down at you, the storm in his eyes settling a bit. “I’m not letting you kill anybody, Y/N- and certainly not him. He isn’t worth it.”

“Well, I don’t care,” you protested. “I still could have killed him. He doesn’t have any right to do anything he’s done to you.”

Kurapika didn’t say anything for a while, but when he looked back down at you, he had a smile on his face. Not quite a happy one, but not quite unhappy. “If I let you go after everyone who’s ever caused me pain, you’d be dead. So… just don’t worry about me, alright? And don’t do that again.”

You frowned, but reluctantly nodded. “Fine...”

Kurapika sighed again and wrapped an arm around your shoulders from behind you, letting his arm rest there. He didn’t move, the box containing the Scarlet Eyes sitting beside you. You just let him rest his chin on the top of your head. It seemed to help.

[bihansthot]

If you’ve liked/reblogged/commented on my Messmer fic just know I love you and I’m giving you a forehead kiss and tucking you into bed.

I can’t promise I will provide more as Messmer is very difficult to write but I will definitely try because he deserves it. I kind of lied I am strongly considering rewriting one of my MK fics as a Messmer x Tarnished fic because it’s a sleepy good morning blowjob and not much dialogue is involved are we interested? Messmer deserves good morning blowjobs.

The original fic is an AFAB reader but details like that aren’t hard to change and rewrite.

Oh while I’m at it are there any Messmer simp discords out there? I’d love to make friends with others who have it bad for Snake Daddy. 18+ preferred as I’m old as dirt. Or just a simp discord for Elden Ring in general?

Thanks for reading and voting! 🩷

[bite-the-bloody-hand]

Dramatis Personae

For the sake of having the most important details of Zell's person and history written down somewhere, I have been compelled to create this character sheet of sorts. FULL of spoilers for Kingmaker and Wrath of the Righteous.

Name: Grenzel 'Zell' Marion Hellsing Birth name: Salyut Pronouns: He/Him Gender: Trans Man Species: Dhampir (Vampire King Ancestry) Age: He thinks he's 19, but he's off by a few decades. Birthday: 20th Gozran :weed emoji: Star Sign: The Bridge (or The Daughter, I think he's right on the cusp?)/The Underworld Dragon Sexuality: Pansexual, Panromantic Deity/Religion: None Class: Bloodrager Primalist - Celestial & Arcane bloodline. Background: Nomad- Honglian and Ustlavic Alignment: Chaotic Neutral to Chaotic Good Path: Azata+ Love interest: Daeran Arendae Starting Stats: (Level one): STR 16 DEX 8 CON 14 INT 12 WIS 14 CHA 16 Top 3 Skills: Perception, Athletics, Persuasion Hobbies: Spinning thread, bug hunting, venue crashing (plays drums, flute, trumpet, and lute as cover) Horseback riding, various kinds of entertainment-derived mischief, Improv theater, bone carving Accent: Ustlavic - while fluent in Common he prefers to let people think otherwise. His accent will get thicker when he's tired, annoyed, or fucking with someone. Will speak in broken Ustlavic or a paint-blisteringly thick Honglian regional accent at the drop of a hat.

Quotes: "Come drink with me, friend." "Even foul water puts out wildfires." "Echh… we're really in the rice now."

Appearance: 5'5", broad shouldered with a somewhat wolfish appearance. Works out, but wouldn't say no to a cookie kind of physique. His hands and feet are oversized and a bit paw-like. He has hip-length, greying black hair that he keeps braided - usually in two simple plaits but he does love a fancy set of braids when time allows. His skin is a dusty gold-grey, as if undeath has left an actual tarnish behind.

His face is wedge-shaped, with high cheekbones, square jaw, and a slightly large nose crooked from catching one too many right hooks. Eyes are sharp, with small pupils and colored a bright blue-green - like the afterglow of a lightning strike - that reflect eerily in darkness or low light. Heavy, sharp eyebrows give him a somewhat cynical, predatory look that gets enhanced by his easy grin - he's not shy about showing off his fangs. He has one large deep scar bisecting his right eyebrow that sadly doesn't have a cool origin - a clay pot fell on him when he was trying to get it off a tall shelf. Otherwise he bears a few cut marks on his arms and legs from skirmishes, a deeper set of clawmarks over his ribs from a bad run-in with a wolverine, and the scars from affirming surgery. Finally, the fatal gutwound from his 'death' in the Stolen Lands, and the subsequent chest scar from Areelu's botched experiment.

Generally he gives off the air of a wolf desperately trying to domesticate itself, or a half-feral stray hunting dog. Real freak on the side of the road in the middle of nowhere energy. In the kindest of terms he can be described as unsettling but beautiful.

He favors jade, carnelian, and silver accessories when he can get them, and has simple bar earrings in each ear that he can't quite recall ever getting. (They're tracker tags from Areelu on account of his habit of fucking off in a random direction and getting stuck or lost somewhere upsetting.) He has issues with the joints in his hands being hypermobile that he corrects with silver splint rings. He favors primarily black outfits with pops of bright color, and minimal armor to avoid any issues with spellcasting. He has long debated the merits of getting a tongue piercing but hasn't decided whether to commit yet. He has a tattoo around his left leg of reindeer stones, and plans on getting more but isn't sure on the designs yet.

Personality: Zell by nature is an exhuberant, friendly, genuinely loving person who has learned the hard way to be extremely reseved with his trust and care. He affects an easygoing, relaxed demeanor that covers an anxious intensity soaked by deep, deep rage that is difficult to percieve until that switch flips. He leans on his innate charisma as social currency, is something of a barfly and enjoys sneaking himself into events by claiming to be 'with the band.' He especially loves crashing weddings and birthdays in this manner. Is generally known as The Guy to go to if you need something delivered, furniture moved, wood chopped, or defensive horseback riding lessons. Sometimes given to bouts of deep introspection, he has something he's searching for or working towards that drives him obsessively. Suffers from chronic joint pain and light-induced migraines, dyslexia, and severe abandonment issues. Runs hot, therefore gets heat exhausted easily.

Archetypes: Ringleader, Bon Vivant, Ambitious Sorceror.

Merits: Kind, supportive, loyal, gentle.

Flaws: Bloodthirsty, capricious, self-destructive, deceptive.

History: CW for forced cultural assimilation, forced detransition, child abuse

Zell was born under mysterious circumstances in the Hongli steppe. His mother was absent - whether she died or abandoned him was never explained - but he was raised within her tribe to be a happy and healthy child. Nobody was over concerned with gender, so he identified as a boy from early on and easily fell in with his peers. He excelled at riding horses, but had difficulty with a bow, so he trained in polearms and sword instead. While he doesn't remember much of his earliest childhood, he fondly recalls the parts of his youth leading a gaggle of youngsters across the steppe and icy desert, hunting for the tribe, herding goats and reindeer, finding cool bugs, and generally reveling in his freedom.

Unfortunately, it was not to last. When he was close to coming of age, he began to develop strange sorcerous abilities. Arcane necromancy and suggestive, enchanting magic came easily to him, and his control was nebulous at best. Still, he had help from his tribe and rarely had any extreme issues.

Soon however, strangers in terrifying black armor came from across the land bridge. They met with the elders that had raised him, and demanded to take him over to distant Avistan. He was devastated when the elders agreed to let him go, and tried to run away on his own. He was caught after weeks of evasion, and severely punished by his new handlers. The next time he was fully conscious, they were already more than halfway over the land bridge.

He was brought to Lepistadt in Ustalav to live with the "Hellsing" family, a deeply interconnected group of nobles and high-ranking Hellknights dedicated to the obstruction of a specific group of malicious vampires... When they aren't running an anti-Iomedaen protestant shadow crusade. Under the auspice of being closer to his father - who he would never meet - and 'necessary' training of his sorcerous power, he was put under the care of Nora Hellsing: a vicious, rigid woman whose first and foremost goal was to forcibly erase as much of Zell's identity as possible. Treated like a burden and an atrocity, he was denied the comfort of his language, his name, and all freedoms he had been allowed in Hongli. Alongside this, Nora did everything she could to stoke Zell's bloodlust and rage, honing him into a devastating fighter and wicked spellcaster. As a capstone, he was put through the same military academy as the other youths in the Hellsing organization. Faced with culture shock, unwinnable tasks, and Nora's cruel attention, his teenage years were a nightmare.

Nora reshaped Zell into Marion Hellsing with the intent of creating the face of the organization's next generation of Vampire Hunters, a devastating half-vampire princess that could be used as much as propaganda as a weapon. She succeeded in making Zell more dangerous, but failed in nearly every other capacity. As Marion, Zell used enchantments, intimidation, and sheer physical prowess to rebell at every opportunity; taking Nora's progressively extreme punishments while fighting indoctrination with every weapon at his disposal. He quickly learned that Nora and the more retaliatory Hellknights would stop short of anything that would kill him - though whether it was because they didn't want to risk him becoming a vampire or wished to avoid the wrath of his absentee father he could not immediately guess. Unfortunately this meant that anyone close to him was fair game - so his closest companions had to either be strong enough to hold their own or they would feel the brunt of the punishment. This did not deter Zell in the slightest, instead only fueling his rage. Zell played the part of a delinquent, bratty punk: deliberately failed classes, slept around with teachers and upperclassmen, and refused to behave unless inspired to exploit the rules to his advantage. He led a small gang of other disaffected youths upset by their involuntary placement at the Academy, and was consistent annoyance to just about anyone in power.

Even so he had few friends, and those that did get close did so for safety more than a sense of genuine friendship. Zell secretly found more solace in the labyrinthine libraries of Lepistadt's universities, more concerned with researching things on his own terms than following the ridgid precepts of Hellknight military training (or literally anything Nora wanted him to read). Eventually, his curiosity -and perhaps the occasional supernatual nudge - led him to discover interesting secrets about Hellsing's origins, and his own.

He discovers during this time that Hellsing is connected by familial relation to the Vampire King - who before becoming a vampire was the last known Aasimar of the newly dead god, Aroden. After being turned, he had apparently wandered and spent some time briefly in Tian Xia - long enough to sire a single child: - Salyut, Zell's childhood name. The child is meant to be Zell, but would have been born decades before. It will be many years before Zell eventually learns that he was given to Areelu by his father, raised til about age seven, and then left nearly a century later with the children and grandchildren of his mortal siblings with only the vaguest memories attached.

He also discovers that Hellsing's Anti-Iomedaen bent is more than just superficial: all the families are either related by blood to the Vampire King (and therefore, Aroden himself) or former clerics and paladins of the fallen god. It is unclear whether they are working directly with Areelu Vorlesh or if her involvement is just a coincidence, but they seem to believe the Vampire King's scion potentially holds a piece of Aroden's soul.

This causes him great concern… after all, Hellsing as an organization doesn't care about him as a person - they only care about Marion Hellsing the figure, and what she can do for their legitimacy and power. If they think 'Marion' holds a piece of Aroden's soul and want to try and do something with that, he doubts he'll come out the other side with any sense of self.

Learning all of this, his goals soon shifted from being the most annoying little shit on the planet to securing his own safety and freedom from Hellsing. While chasing these leads and preparing his escape, he stumbled upon caches of research left behind by Nora… and eventually proof that she was planning on becoming a lich. The particulars of her research, and how she plans to use the power of lichdom, disgusted Zell, but there was no one within Hellsing he could turn to in order to stop her. His only choice was to flee, and hope that Nora never succeeded in her plans.

This time, escaping the Hellknights was a far easier task. Armed with years of learning their tactics and the surrounding lands, he easily slipped away from Lepistadt and made his way south. The plan was to make for Absalom - perhaps strike up with some scholars who could point him towards more information about fallen Aroden. Picking the name 'Grenzel' for himself, he began his new life.

After a year or so on the road taking courier work and odd jobs, he happened to meet the captain of a river barge while chartering passage for a job. Captain Aslan Ciardha soon blew through all Zell's barriers and became his dearest friend and brother in arms. They traveled together for several years before Zell broke away to follow a lead in the Tors of Levenies. The lead was a dead end however, which allowed Zell to rejoin his friend - now a Baron in the tumultuous Stolen Lands.

He had difficulty falling in with Aslan's new crew; having little in common with most of them and no tolerance for the particulars of running a kingdom. His foremost goal was to protect and champion his friend - who had apparently come under the thrall of the wicked fae at the heart of the blight in the Stolen Lands. While Zell could see the signs of his friend being perhaps a little too invested in redeeming a clearly evil fae, there was little he could do to sway his friend. And soon, sensing his interference, Nyrissa would ensure that Zell was just as distracted.

He had not expected Tristian - of all people - to show any interest in him beyond the seemingly genuine concern of a healer. Even so he was charmed by Tristian's gentle, if fumbling, persistence, and eventually started to worry less about Aslan's predicament. While bemused and a little terrified of the prospect, Zell let himself start to fall in love and relax more around the other companions, finally gaining a sense of ease among them.

When Tristian inevitably turned coat and betrayed them all in Vordekai's tomb, Zell was devastated. He went with Aslan to Candlemere to try and talk sense into Tristian, but learning how thoroughly he'd been played truly broke his heart. While Aslan was determined to prove Tristian could be saved and made for the Temple of the Elk, Zell opted instead to support Amiri in confronting Armag. While he wasn't seeking his own death in battle - distraction and a few unlucky breaks put him on the receiving end of a mortal gut wound.

Before any of his allies could return with help, Areelu Vorlesh whisked him from the battlefield to save his life and initiate her final experiment: Alchemizing his soul with Nahyndrian crystal. Now, with his soul so full of rage and heartbreak, seemed to her to be the best moment to strike. She threw in the top surgery for free, as a treat.

Delirious, heartbroken, and in a body slightly altered from normal was how Zell came to in Kenabras square, unsure how he even got there or even why he was still alive.

[afandommultiverse]

Being A Hostage for Colonel Miles Quaritch

❀ A/n: GUESS WHO LEARNED HOW TO DO SMALL FONT IN HTML!!?? Me🤭 lmao so new look now~ I don’t know if you guys noticed yet but yes, the hc’s with moons are all connected and have their own story playing out in them, kinda like chapters, however, I will still be making headcanons outside of that small story and they will have a different emoticon. Also I know the ‘headcanons’ read more like a one-shot and that’s my bad guys. I'm tryna figure it out but for now please enjoy this third installment of my Quaritch headcanons.🫶

Side Note: I have been fairly gender neutral for the reader up until this point but for my story and nicknames sake technically its written in AFAB, I will continue to keep it as neutral as possible but I am sorry for any slip ups!

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

✿ picking up where we left off, Spider had been gone for a few hours and you were beginning to grow restless, starting to pace, first slowly then speeding up before finally you sat down and curled up into a ball. What were you going to do? You couldn’t help them, but you couldn’t let them kill Spider and you can’t afford the outcome of him seeing you die. Your main focus was getting him out of here

✿ however, your thoughts on how you were going to get him out were stopped by the sound of loud thudding footsteps near your door and the smell of blood. when the door opened you stood quickly, vigilant, ready to find the reason for such a smell. your eyes were on Spider, who was limp and nearly unconscious. running to him you hissed at the Colonel feeling stupid for having ever trusted him in the first place and as soon as Spider was laid down gently on the cot that was bought for them (Thanks Lyle), you swung

✿ Quaritch narrowly ducked, yelling out a quick “Hey now!” jumping back a few steps and fumbling, not having expected your aggressive behavior, you were quick but he was quicker, dodging you swiftly and finally when you lunged for him he grabbed you twisting and pulling around the room with each other before finally he had your front against the wall.

✿ he was a little pissed you squabbled with him but he couldn’t blame you, honestly, he’d looked like he had gone back on his word and he hated that. He didn’t care just because of you, no, he would hate for anyone to see him or know of him going back on his word, no one would tarnish that, especially not some ‘science nerds.’

✿ breathing heavily you cursed him out in your new native tongue to which he said “I know mama, I know they hurt your baby. I get it, okay? but I didn’t know a damn thing about it so stop taking this out on me, yeah?”

✿ this honestly only pissed you off more, having you thrashing in his hold relentlessly, it's then he push off of you a bit and in a quick flash flipped you around and pushed back into your space. your breath caught, the lack of air between the two of you not giving you much room to move in comfortably, but it wasn’t just that. No, it was also the smell of him, his freshly pressed and starched clothes were nostalgic of your own time in the marine corp, but underneath all that was the unadulterated smell of him. It makes your head dizzy 100%

✿ ngl he liked the way your eyes sorta glazed as you took him in, the smell, the gorgeous view I mean come on, and of course the feeling of him; pressed up against you, a little too much to just be fighting off any of your future advances. he didn’t mean to, honest, but he just felt pulled to you, physically and otherwise

✿ “Get off me.” you spit out with venom, eyes clearing and meeting his, slightly narrowed but not as much as before, sensing if you fought anymore it would just make things harder

✿ “Do you promise to be good?” you growled, something low and feral in the back of your throat before turning your head away sharply, annoyed and displeased that you had to submit to such a man (you lowkey like it though, cause bffr, ain’t nobody put your badass in check since you left the corp)

✿ “Good girl.” He could hear your heart skip a beat and grinned wolfishly, looking you up and down once more before backing away coolly and returning to spider

✿ Quaritch didn’t want to admit it, especially in the short time he has even known the kid but he was worried about him, unfamiliar with the device they had used on him earlier, he remembers a prototype that followed along that design when he was human but he didn’t expect it to go this far, seems he was wrong about yet another thing, which also pissed him off and while he was silently fuming he didn't notice you come sit at the head of the thin bed and pull spiders head into your lap

✿ when he did notice you, he watched the way you combed your fingers through spiders hair lovingly, moving it out of his face. you gently wet your thumb and wiped the blood off the top of his lip and looked hard for anything else wrong with him. Quaritch didn’t take his eyes off of you until you reached for the breathing mask you kept on the floor beside the cot and took a few deep breaths

✿ he figured he should as well as the pressure in his chest had begun to grow but when he took his last few breaths, the pressure had still not gone away. something in him wanted to say it was you but he internally rolled his eyes at that so hard that they damn near got stuck

✿ “I’m sorry, I didn’t know they would do that, the science geeks y’know?” shit you almost laughed, but instead, you shook your head and let out a deep breath.

✿ “What do you want with us, Quaritch? I won’t tell you where Sulley is.” he looked at you for a few seconds, honestly not knowing what to say, because he didn’t know what to do. he needed you guys for this mission, but keeping both of you around, especially this close didn’t seem like it would end well. for him or the general; he didn’t know yet.

✿ “I don’t expect you too, your boy didn’t,” he looked away, back down at spider, and tapped his arm twice before standing from his couch position. “He's strong, I’ll give him that. But I can’t just let you two go back, so we’ll keep you on for the ride, in the meantime you’ll be helping me and my team.” you quirked a brow

✿ “Helping you with what?” you didn’t like where this is going.

✿ “All things Na’vi of course.” he smiled and went to turn and walk out of the room, done with the conversation

✿ “Wait.” he paused, “if I help you, I need you to do something for me.” he turned, not promising anything, just curious to see what you would ask. “What?” you looked up at him and almost felt bashful, but the truth was you felt uncomfortable in your clothes, especially when you could feel the eyes of so many men on you, human and otherwise, raking you up and down like a piece of meat. they didn’t cover much more than what was needed and they seemed to take advantage. you didn’t miss that feeling at all since becoming one with the Na’vi, the people not as brash or disrespectful as the men here were.

✿ “could you bring me some clothes?” he wanted to laugh, the meaning behind the request almost escaping him but in two seconds flat he realized and it made his skin itch with irritation. the idea of anyone looking at you in a way you didn’t want began to tick him off. he blamed the reaction on the feelings he had for you prior to his death but in this new body those would be abolished, now the less he would respect your request, only to just keep your rapport, of course.

✿“Absolutely, sweetheart.”

❀ A/n: ahhh!! I’ve been wanting to get this out forever😩 but I've been working so damn much BUUUT I hope you guys enjoyed it!! Please leave any critique and don’t forget requests are open for anything!