#tiger woods wife

[newstoday365]

"Love is in the air," says Tiger Woods, confirming his relationship with Vanessa Trump.

By posting two images to Instagram with the comment, "Love is in the air," legendary golfer Tiger Woods has openly recognized his relationship with Vanessa Trump, the former daughter-in-law of President Trump.

"With you by my side, life is better and love is in the air! We are excited to travel through life together. We would value privacy at this time for everyone we care about," he stated. (See more)

[republicansaredomesticterrorists]

She’s still under contract to promote Orange Hitler. If she fails to fulfill her contractual duties she and her children will be cut off from the family trust and she will be sued into oblivion. All members of the family are under contract to receive their share of the trust. When DJT cut Mary’s share she went solo and now makes her living bashing him on tv and in print.

Tiger should be aware of what he’s getting into because everything Trump touches dies.

🤦‍♀️

[dailyrickastley]

Via The Guardian

[purebbyfawn]

hands down one of the most gorgeous women alive

[rexscanonwife]

idk how many of u know/care about the new scandal that came out about Ariana Grande getting together with none other than Ethan Slater who played spongebob in the spongebob musical...who had a wife. And a baby. It's a big mess but ppl are now using his spongebob role to bash him bcs apparently that's proof that he's 'not okay'

And idk how many of u remember how important that musical was and IS to me and how spongebob is a platonic but im like SOBBING LIKE NOOO LEAVE HIM OUT OF THISSS 😭😭😭

[pseudowho]

18+, MDNI, Shinazugawa Sanemi is a filthy monster

Full of hot air. Annoying piece of shit, waste of time--

You and Sanemi approached the safehouse, scraped and bloody and pissed off. You felt every scrap of annoyance as an electric frisson over your skin, made irritatingly worse every time he brushed against you.

You stuck a palm out, trying to shove him further away from you, and only succeeded in shoving yourself further from him, so bizarrely immovable was he. His face, already stormy, snarled.

"What's your fucking problem?"

"Stay out of my space Shinazugawa--"

"--you're the one fucking staggering--"

"--yeah, well, it's hard carrying the whole team--"

Sanemi laughed, mirthless. Now bracketed by arching wisteria, in a tunnel to the door, he hammered his fist on dark wood, turning his back to you.

"Yeah, alright kid, the circus called--"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Shinazugawa--"

"--yeah, yeah, they want their clown back--"

The pair of you were too busy bickering, sniping and biting, to thank the elderly woman who let you in. She rubbed a single wizened hand down her face.

As you stormed away to the baths, the old woman caught Sanemi, saying something to him that made him spit feathers, apoplectic and vengeful. You didn't care to listen, and instead shut the sliding door, sunk yourself into the awaiting hot bath, and stuck your head briefly underwater to scream.

Somewhat calmed, but still brittle and fractious, you encased your body in a fine white robe, leaving your clothes aside to be de-bloodied by the house staff. Stepping out, you were greeted by the old woman who had welcomed you inside.

"Come along, dear. It's a good thing you two are married, I only had one room--"

You frowned, uncertain, and about to open your mouth to argue back before being unceremoniously shoved into a room, the woman a little too eager to escape from you before you could throw vitriol at her.

You turned on the spot, flustered, in a handsome traditional room. A large, squashy bedroll lay upon the floor...and Sanemi sat upon it, looking pugnacious and nonchalant.

"...get out of my fucking room, Shina--"

"Shut the fuck up. It's our room for the night."

You faltered, short-circuiting and drawing your robe closer to yourself, feeling so naked. Sanemi continued, stripping his uniform top off, throwing it aside. You felt yourself flush hot from head to toes, despite yourself, at his chest and back, all hewn stone and sculpture. He still didn't look at you as he continued.

"They only had one room. They were about to turn us away, so I convinced them we're married. You're welcome."

You fizzlecracked with rage, burning with mortification.

"You? Married to you?"

Sanemi bristled, offended. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean--"

"Oooo I'm your little wifey now am I? Lucky little Sanemi, so fortunate to have such a lovely wife protecting him in battle--"

"--you are such a pain in the ass--"

"--I'll be your dutiful wife, shall I? Here, let me take your clothes, dear one, I shall wash them--"

Sanemi stood slowly now, his shoulders hunched beneath something dark, approaching you like a tiger on the hunt. You continued your relentless mockery, furious at having to share a room with him, as if you could hide how badly you dreamed of him at night, when you weren't tearing each other to shreds--

"--cook meals for you, rub your shoulders and listen to all your woes. Such a perfect little wife--"

You felt yourself shoved back to the wall, squeaking as Sanemi's sweat and blood filled your nose. One strong hand clamped over your mouth, a forearm planted above your head. He panted, seething under your constant barrage of abuse.

His voice was so low, you could barely hear but for the tickle of his breath on your neck, and you shivered to feel him lock you in place, planting a knee between your legs.

"Yeah. That's it. You'll be my little wife. And I'll be your doting husband...if you don't want to sleep in the fucking forest for the night."

You trembled, raising your hands to press weakly at his chest, certain you couldn't hide it now, the longing behind the mockery--

Sanemi didn't move, a shudder running through him as your palms grazed against his nipples. His voice continued, gravelly under the strain of your plush body, caged against his.

"I'll listen to you tell me about your day...and I'll be interested, too. I'll actually listen."

You felt a blush smatter across your breasts, barely contained by your robe and not unnoticed by Sanemi as he continued.

"I'll tell you I missed you...and you'll take the piss out of me like always, but it's just because you missed me too and can't find the words to say it."

Your breaths came hot and fast, tear-filled eyes glimmering up at him as he deconstructed you, foreplay through playing house.

"And I'll pull you close...much closer than this...more like this--" Sanemi pressed his whole body flush to yours, and you groaned. Sanemi caught it in his palm, feeling his cock harden against his thigh at you, trapped like a little rabbit beneath him.

"And I'll kiss you...until you're squirming, and begging me for more. And I'm a devoted husband, so I'll undo your robe...and slip my hands inside to squeeze you so hard, you bruise, until you're all wet and peachy for me..."

Your head swam, feeling yourself wetten as if by some Pavlovian magic. You clamped your thighs around Sanemi's knee, his eyes dark to feel the heat of your empty core against him.

"...and I'll get you ready with my fingers...'cos I'm big, y'know? And you're great at taking me...but I like to feel your cunt shaking around my hand, while I fuck you with it."

Your fingernails pressed crescents into his pecs, now, supple and pliable against the wall as he fucked the fight out of you with his words, all this time just tearing each other to shreds just to avoid telling him and now what for if it never worked all along were you always so fucking obvious--

"And then...I'll use some of that soaking little pussy cream to cover my cock, jack it off it a few times to get it ready for you, but I'll lick the rest off 'cos I know you like that--"

You moaned into Sanemi's palm, squirming hard enough to free one breast, and Sanemi cursed under his breath, his voice rough and wavering as he drank down your trembling curves.

"...and 'cos I'm your husband...I'll fuck into you all at once. And I'll fuck you, and fuck you, until you're yelling out my name, but it won't be Shinazugawa anymore 'cos that's your name, too, wife, it'll be Sanemi instead...or something like that, anyway, 'cos I'll be honest, you'll be too fucked out to talk properly when my cock's splitting you in half. Finally. A way to shut that fucking potty mouth of yours."

Your hands trailed up his chest, beginning to wrap around his neck, involuntarily rubbing your clit over his knee with a shaking moan, throbbing with the promise--

Sanemi released you, stepping away abruptly, leaving you cold and gasping and wet against the wall.

"As your husband, anyway. Not that I am. So shut the fuck up...and go to bed."

You sunk to the floor, stunned and speechless, unable to form a single comeback. You gasped up at Sanemi, his back to you as he undid his hakama. His head, all ruffled white spikes, came up once more with an ah! of realisation, and he shot his final, critical hit.

"...and I'd cum inside you. Obviously. Doting husbands like you all round and pretty and full of their seed, right?"

[lightbluetown]

i saw some people say ed and zheng are master strategists while stede is just some guy with ridiculous luck, but i think that's unfair. sure stede's ideas are insane, but they fit the looney tunes ass universe of ofmd perfectly. they're mostly well-thought-out, well-executed and they showcase stede's strengths and growth! so allow me to talk about them:

1- ghost of the forest - 1x02

a fuckery™ before stede even knows what a fuckery™ is! this is amateurish and stupid in every way. he's not even threatening izzy with a real dagger-- that's a letter opener. does izzy actually believe that stede has a huge crew hiding behind the bushes? doubt it! but this weird little act is enough to establish stede as a (ridiculous) pirate figure to the legendary izzy hands and to accomplish his goal of taking a hostage back

2- lighthouse - 1x04

imagine coming up with the exact same idea at the exact same time as the most brilliant tactician of the seven seas! we don't know who came up with which parts of the plan (honestly it was probably mostly ed) but this is still bloody impressive

3- stark revelations - 1x05

stede's first big success! he uses his knowledge of the aristocratic world to get a shipful of rich assholes to destroy each other, but he's also showcasing what sets him apart from them: this plan only comes to fruition because stede talks to frenchie, olu and abshir as equals. as people he can learn from, as sources of inspiration

4- duel with izzy - 1x06

this one was absolutely unhinged, but its success was far from dumb luck. only stede could think of using a brazillian cherry wood mast and ed's weird stabbing lesson to win a duel, and that's what makes this plan so undeniably stede and brilliant

5- faking his death - 1x10

i love that he just had to "die" in the most dramatic way possible. a heroic fight (tiger), a realistic accident (carriage) and the most cartoony death in the book (piano)... not only is his triple-death able to convince everyone in barbados that he's dead for good, it also allows him to have closure with his family. it's filled with stede's ridiculous unique flair, but it's designed to be a fuckery™ through and through. ed would be SO proud

6- stealing jackie's indigo dye - 2x01

quick little stealth mission. did ricky manipulate stede into trying this out? sure. did ricky also ruin it? absolutely. but it was working until then! the swede isn't part of stede's crew at this point, but his respect for stede is what gets him to cooperate and risk his relationship with his beautiful wife. also, it's thanks to his love for fine things that stede immediately recognizes the value of "blue dirt"

7- prison break - 2x03

in my eyes no scene depicts stede's growth better than this one. knocking zheng's entire crew out with tea is the most stede thing out there, and this plan uses the cherry wood mast as well! this plan relies on stede's (unrealistic) tea knowledge, overly-fancy ship and ability to coordinate his crew. what makes it breathtaking is that he secretly sets this plan into motion while actively mourning the "death" of the love of his life. he's putting his life on the line to rescue ed's "killers" because he's emotionally mature enough to look at things from their perspective and forgive them

8- inciting a mutiny - 2x06

yet another brilliant plan that could only be executed by stede. this entire episode revolves around his idea of "turning poison into positivity" and here he, well, fights poison with positivity. stede captains his pirates with respect and care (best he can) which just so happens to be the opposite of ned. he exploits this and gently gets ned's crew to turn on him. he singlehandedly saves himself and his entire crew from a notorious pirate! oh he also literally invents walking the plank right after this

9- "it's only suicide if we die" - 2x08

okay, yes, this one didn't go that well (sorry iz). but it's not like ed, zheng or anyone else had any other ideas! stede's weird suicide mission, for the most part, worked. they needed to get through british soldiers to reach their ship and they did exactly that. if only they'd remembered to check if ricky had his gun... oh well, you live and you learn

sure, ed and zheng are legends and stede is a silly newbie with wild luck. but he's also quick-witted, creative, confident and brave! he's a damn good captain and he deserves to be recognized as a good strategist!

[jbbartram-illu]

Hey! It's time for my Top Books of 2024 list! Also, this is the earliest I've ever posted it!!

Horse - Geraldine Brooks

No One Will Come Back for Us - Premee Mohamed

Toad - Katherine Dunn

The Vegetarian - Han Kang

The Tiger’s Wife - Téa Obreht

Dandelion Daughter - Gabrielle Boulianne-Tremblay

Whalefall - Daniel Kraus

8 Lives of a Century-Old Trickster - Mirinae Lee

Chouette - Claire Oshetsky

The Centre - Ayesha Manazir Siddiqi

The Morningside - Téa Obreht

The Extinction of Irena Rey - Jennifer Croft

Penric’s Progress - Lois McMaster Bujold

The Broken Earth Trilogy - N.K. Jemisin

Bones & All - Camille DeAngelis

Anomia - Jade Wallace

The Good Lord Bird - James McBride

Curiosity - Joan Thomas

The Bee Sting - Paul Murray

North Woods - Daniel Mason

Butter - Asako Yuzuki

The West Passage - Jared Pechaček

To see all 82 books I read this year, go here: jessicabartram.ca/books2024

& here are the disorganized screenshots of my top books from my instagram stories where I add very mini impressions once each book is done (if you like my book-picks & want to see them throughout the year, feel free to follow me over there @ jbbartram!).

[gremlingottoosilly]

The horror and the wild [!emperor!Konig x fem!Reader] ch.5

You had a nice, simple life. Serve the princess, obey the princess, protect the princess with your life. You never thought that this nice, simple life would bring you to be kidnapped by the infamous Northern Emperor. Konig never thought that kidnapping a wife would be much easier than courting one.

CHAPTER 1 CHAPTER 2| Chapter 3| Chapter 4| Chapter 5l you're here! AO3

Word count: 3188 Tags/Warnings: Medieval fantasy/Alternative European history AU, Age gap, Enemies(one-sided)to lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, Forced marriage, Size difference(Konig is absolutely huge), Somewhat one-sided slow burn, Yandere Konig

Warnings for this chapter: Predator/Prey kink, mild choking

Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her. Little princess is dumb and naive and oh, so deliciously weak, it makes Konig sick just how much he adores her pouty face, her aggressive expressions, and that squeak in her voice every time he does something to embarrass her – which he does, a lot, in fact. Quite aware of how his war dog lingo would affect an innocent young lady like his precious dearest darling illustrious wife, he uses it to hi advantage – when you have your lady cornered, heavy panting and cumming from your tongue and your fingers in her tight royal cunt, she wouldn’t be able to open her mouth for something meaningless, right? Thou shall not think as thou would be a sin against god. 

Emperor is a sinner, but he still believes that you shall always follow the religious instructions – as if not ever trying to oppose him and speak like you have the right to think in his presence. Perhaps, his devotion to making you weak and pliable in his arms is what led to this situation. 

Little princess doesn’t know what’s good for her, so little princess runs. 

You might brag about your best education and most elegant courses for women you attended in the palace – but he knows just how empty your adorable little head is, because you had no idea how much the thrill of the hunt turns him on. 

You’re nowhere to be found, escaped through the window of the room you were stationed in – it was his mistake, assigning you a place from which you could jump so easily. Next time, he will cuff you to his bedpost, like a loyal palace dog lying on his legs. Next time, he will make sure to love you so eagerly that your legs won’t work for at least a few days. 

He doesn’t even need his hunting dogs to catch you. Horangi offers his help, Tiger so eager to come out and play with a little princess, perhaps maul her a bit, showing the royal cunt what she deserves for disrespecting her emperor and his subjects – but oh no, this won’t do. König needs to discipline you himself, track your scent like the hound he is, and get you back to your wedding bed with your body in his teeth. 

Woe on you, dumb little princess, as your emperor considers escape attempts the richest form of courting. 

Following you through the forest near the castle, your footsteps are clear in the mud and dirt – a piece of your dress serves as a grinding light. Your scent, delicious sweetness, and fresh flower oils maid had infused you with made it laughably easier to find you. He can almost see the glimpses of your body running through the woods – god, he knew that he wanted you and was right about taking you away. 

How can he resist a wedding gift from his bride who wants to play tag? He follows you like a madman, a dog, he sees through trees, trying to see where you could run. The deep golden brown of your dress almost made you look like a forest spirit standing in the depths of the woods – if it weren’t for König’s trained eye, he would rather mistake you for a tree. Or a particularly precious deer. 

He licks his lips, a wolf approaching the bunny he was hunting for so long – you run away, still try to. These dumb skirts aren’t made for running away from your fiancee in a forest – you can barely walk in those, poor thing. You take a step back, panicking, squawking from fear, as he approaches you as slowly as possible. 

Perhaps, if he gives you one more chance to run, it would make the chase even more precious. 

He is used to hunting with his royal hounds, with a group of his closest friends by his side – war hawks helping hunt for prey, the animal snifters making the whole process laughably easy. He doesn’t have anyone for the company now. 

Only you, him, and wilderness – and his adoring love for everything you do. 

— Stop resisting, little princess.

You whimper, but your little annoyed expression makes him only harder. Hell, how he adores your frown, how much he wants to kiss your face right now – god knows he is holding himself back these days. Little princess doesn’t deserve to get her innocence taken on her back, legs open on the dirt of the royal forest – but sometimes you act like a good lashing, and some passionate mating is the only thing that would keep you in line. 

He yells in your direction, hoping that even that dumb head of yours has some sense in it – the chase is fun, and he would continue it more until you’re completely unraveled under him, exhausted and defeated – but, oh, your silly desire to be free has led you to the edge of the lake. Dancing on the shaky, soft sands and warm mud of the pond, your clothes leave you with very small chances of getting out of here in one piece. 

He doesn’t want to be the bringer of doom, but just one sleep, a nervous movement that you can’t control – and the little princess of his dreams will come flying in the dark waters. Even if your royal majesty knows how to swim, the heavy fabrics of your garments would be declared as your executioners. 

You look so fragile like this – your skirt is lifted, showing your pretty ankles, as you’re trying to jump from stone to stone, as far away from him as possible. You’re scared, only reminding him more of the bunnies he used to hunt as a kid – and he is almost offended that you’d prefer that risk of drowning over getting in the hands of your husband again, but alas, princesses are usually not the smartest creatures on the planet. 

— I’d rather die, Your Majesty. 

You bite your lips and look at him, so stubborn and cute – the feelings in him rise, your arrogant expression making the thrill of the hint ever sweeter. God, he cannot control himself around you like this – you should stop trying to make yourself sweeter for him, he already wants to keep you chained in his bed and never let you go. 

You’re so…

Ach. 

His path of thought is stopped by the splash of water. 

Dumb thing, you really decided to make the most of your words – like a cornered animal, you jumped in the lake, getting to the bottom almost immediately. Your dress is heavy and expensive, all the weight of the fabrics pinning you down in elaborate execution. Your emperor stands on the small beach, looking at the water circles going from where you fell…and then he jumps straight after you. 

The last thing you remembered before the world went dark was the scream of a man who, for the first time in his life, had experienced genuine fear. 

*** You wake up warm – and naked. 

No wet clothes, no heavy dress lingering on your skin like a soft coffin. 

You’re as naked as the day you were born, shivering despite the warmness of the room and the crackling of fire somewhere near you. You remember this room – a royal bedroom, quickly made as your quarters when you moved to this god-forsaken castle. Empire has some horribly extensive architecture, and this room, big, stony, and expelled of any decor, has only made you feel regret ever waking up. 

You wished to wake up in the cold embrace of your Princess – but you open your eyes and see this room over and over again. Why couldn’t death come sooner? 

— It was incredibly stupid even for you, little princess. 

König sits on the edge of the bed. A future husband shouldn’t sit like this, resembling a servant who is scared for the health of his misstress. His eyes are filled with cold fury and other emotions that you can’t quite grasp – you don’t want to look at his face too much as even the mere glimpse is making you uncomfortable. God knows you are not in the mood for trying to talk to your captor. 

God knows he doesn’t care about your wishes. 

— If you can only provide me freedom in case of my death…

— You will not be free after your death. 

You sigh, shocked – your brain isn’t nearly ready for this information when you just almost died. You shift in your bed, trying to pretend that you accidentally fell asleep – but the emperor pushes his hand on your cheek, warm fingers lingering on the cold skin. You sigh quietly, sealing his warmth. 

You fight the desire to nuzzle in his palm like an obedient little pet. 

— It’s not for you to decide, Your Majesty. I should be allowed to die on my own accord. 

— I'm entitled to your life, my bride. Don’t make me remind you of this, ja? 

— I would rather… 

— I can deliver death to you, little one. In a verdammt heartbeat. 

His hand goes from a warm presence on your cheek to an angry squeeze of your neck – you cough when he continues to shut your breath, fluttering of your neck in his grasp only makes your defeat even sweeter. König has you right where he wants it – under him, holding firmly in his grasp like some exotic bird he picked up from his travels. 

Lack of air makes you dizzy – as ironic as it sounds, you feel airheaded, hands clinging to his massive palm in a poor attempt to make him let you go. You whimper, you cry, you feel death all too soon – you want to die, of course, maybe, willingly meeting in hell with the royalty you had sworn to serve, but you don’t want to be killed. Tears run down your cheeks when you finally see the other side of him – out of control, angry, worse even than the conqueror you saw when you first met. 

You feel replaceable and small – he squeezes your throat like you aren’t his bride like you don’t mean anything to him, and, yes, it makes you feel hurt. Vulnerable as ever, your manicured nails have zero power over him – he only laughs at your helpless expression. For a second, it makes you think this is it – the last thing you would ever see is the cold anger in the eyes of your emperor. 

When your vision finally got blurry enough so you could not see anything anymore, König softly lowered his face closer to you, lifting the bottom part of his weird, strange hood. Smothering you with his lips, delivering the air you were craving for – if only to make himself feel even more in control. You’re lightheaded and a bit dumb, still, your mind is too delirious to actually understand anything that is happening around you. 

His lips are warm and dry, you steal air from his lungs with each second – you feel the energy feeling you up again, eyes are finally set enough to see at least some part of his face. Chiseled chin, covered in scars, tanned skin – you’re surprised that he is not as pale as you thought he must be, with his love for the masks. 

His veins are dark and rotten – you don’t understand how he can survive with his blood looking like this, but the dark tendrils of his body almost make him more of a curiosity than an actual human being. It’s only his lips that are still holding you in realms of the living. You don’t want to think of the implications and gossip you heard from some servants that were allowed to go out – allowed to witness the growth of the empire that was soon to eat you all. 

König finally lets go of your mouth when you start falling asleep again. You don’t allow him to simply cover his lips with his hood again though – your hands are heading to lend on his neck, fingers tracing the outlines of his veins. 

A medical curiosity, this emperor – you squeeze the rot of his neck, and he moans like you just did something that he liked too much. 

It’s only fitting that he has the body of a monster – for all he is done, you wouldn't be surprised if his head actually resembles the one of an octopus from silly books you were reading or a mess of dark tendrils, wiggling and swarming. Your delirious, oxygen-deprived mind still wants to touch him more, to satisfy your curiosity in all the more fitting ways. Maybe take your research a bit further down to see if he truly is a man down there. 

But oh well, you saw his body before – although you never as much as paid attention to that detail. Did he change in a few days that passed? Does his veins start to spew out darkness because he is…

He crushed your hand in his, almost making you feel a crack in your dainty lady fingers. God forbid you feel like your hands are being torn apart. 

— Never try to defy me like this again. 

He spews the words with anger than would be fitting for the enemy – and he is, for you, but you were sure that he didn’t consider you one of them. The contrast with his soft actions earlier, you can feel tears collecting in your eyes as he slowly lets go of your hand. 

Not knowing what to do, you roll to the side, burning desire to never see his face – or lack thereof – ever again. Like an angry cat that doesn’t know how to stop biting, you feel like you’re going to cry again and again. 

You whimper, trying to escape the haunting gaze of his eyes – and his face softens, if only for a bit. He presses his hand against your damp forehead, checking the temperature. You don’t want to forgive him just yet – for anything at this matter, but he is soft at this moment, and somehow, it is almost enough. Somehow, you almost feel like you can breathe again. 

— I was so scared, little princess. I don’t like being scared. 

You laugh dryly, your face is still deep in the pillow. You are trying to ignore the beast, but the beast decided that you’re his best option for a nice free snack. Beast decided to take off some of his clothes – you don’t see it, but you hear the sound of fabric hitting the floor, and you don’t want to even think how much it cost. 

You try to cover your naked body with the silk sheets of your bed, but soft fabric only entices your desires in a way that can only be called sinful. You remember the sensation of his tongue between your legs, your desire to simply run out of your skin because of how good it felt – each stroke made you strive further and further away from your duties. Like a good little maid you are, a perfect lady in waiting, waiting for her demise, you have to ignore all the mortal pleasures. 

If you want the royal family to truly forgive you in their graves, you would have to join them. Perhaps, you gave up on drowning too fast. 

— It wasn’t my intention. 

He shifts, the bed is too small for someone like him. You feel his legs, clothed, thank god, touching your naked thighs – and you immediately stir to the further side. You keep your arms and legs in check, getting into a small ball of limbs as you’re trying to comfort yourself without his touch. You don’t want to admit it, but König is warm, warmer than you thought he had the right to be, and you’re freezing. The phantom feeling of cold water on your skin is making you shiver. 

— What were your intentions then? 

If the emperor knows about manners and how a fiancee should behave around his bride that he didn’t even consummate the marriage, he is ignoring that knowledge. Large hands pinning you to his chest, warm and firm – to your utter dread, he took off the armor plates and even the simple shirt under it, making you helplessly squish your cheek against his muscles. He smells like a man, and you never knew you’d feel that smell in your life. 

You don’t hate it. 

— You killed by parents, Your Majesty. 

He only laughs, his hand goes to stroke your back. This is a contrast with his coldness before – he is soft and warm with you, and you hate that you don’t hate it. Gigantic palm goes to settle between your shoulder blades and you simply sigh, trying to get used to his touches. You don’t want to, but a good servant should adapt to everything, so you do just that. Adapting, deforming, melding yourself in something you never knew you even could be. 

Your head hurts, and you whimper when his gentle massage relaxes your sore muscles. You hate his gentleness, you hate his firmness. 

You want him to let you go, but you don’t even know where you would go. 

— Your parents, little princess? Really? 

There is a vile mockery in his voice, and you immediately remember who this man is. Not some devoted lover and slightly obsessive romanticist – he is dangerous, horrible, he is the conqueror of your country. You may not have warm feelings about the royal family, but he doesn’t know this – his laugh and mockery of your “family” must be real. It has to be, or else you’re going to die after your deceiving has been opened. 

He pushes you even closer to him, and you whimper like a dumb little dog without any means of stopping him from touching you. There is some freedom from being exposed like this, but you still don’t like it. Still feel like he is going to murder you, given the reason. 

— If anything, my men did it. That dog you called a father did not deserve my sword. 

Anger fills your whole body – not because you were particularly close with the king, but because König is parading his mockery of your supposed family. He hugs you with hands that are covered in blood, no matter if he is just the one to give orders. 

You try to get out of his grasp, but apathy fills you. What’s the point if the royal family is dead? What’s the point if you aren’t even the real princess. 

— You will not call my father…

He makes you shut your mouth when he kisses your head. Sweet and soft, you do not understand his intentions. If anything, it feels like yet another mockery. 

— I will call him like I want, meine Liebe. And you will still be mine. 

— I won’t just take it, Your Majesty. 

He laughs again. You feel sick. 

— With our wedding tomorrow, little flower, you will have to take it. Not the last thing you’ll take on that day, little princess. 

You feel like you are going to be sick. 

König kisses you again, forcing you to sleep in his hands. 

[juletheghoul]

SNEAK PEAK PLS?? CRUMBS??? ILY SO MUCH

👀 I got you nonny 💕

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, this is before the baby! Marcus is progressive and gets his lady a toy, allusions to masturbation, let me know if I missed any!

For the full story, read here

Unbeta’d, any mistakes are my own!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

-

You oversee his preparations, hand-picking the robes he will take and making sure that he has everything he needs. You keep yourself busy with the tasks of preparing his journey while keeping your house in order, ignoring the glaring absence of him looming over the horizon. He does his best to reassure you even though he himself is so busy. His hand ever on your hip, his lips on your temple, a soft whisper in your ear.

On the day he leaves, as you walk him to the door in the blue dawn, he reminds you with a smile. “The package under the bed, open it tonight, while you are in our bed.”

His expression is one you carry with you throughout the day and it's that unshakeable foundation of obedience that stops you from running to it as soon as the door is closed. You suspect he might know this, despite never commanding or ordering you to do anything once your relationship had been established. Once the change from slave to wife had been made.

The memory of his words rings in your ears as you sit nestled in your shared bed once the house is asleep, altogether too big and too empty without his form filling it alongside you.

Curiously, you pull apart the strings tying the small bundle closed, unable to guess just what it might be.

What greets you when you finally breach it, makes you gasp out loud.

It is a polished, sizable wooden cock. Heat floods your cheeks as you hold it in your hands, the size and shape almost identical to Marcus.

A small vial of oil falls from the seemingly empty wrappings onto your lap and the intended use of this gift is quite obvious. You laugh, inspecting it in your hands, half embarrassed, mostly aroused to know that in his absence, he still wanted you to be satisfied.

It feels forbidden in your hands. Smooth as glass, the grain in the wood like the stripes of a tiger. It has been years since you touched a cock not belonging to your now husband, years since you felt pleasure from anyone that was not him, with exception to yourself. Heat blooms everywhere in your body to imagine him having this made for you, an ache for him grows between your legs.

It is with a rebellious glee that you slip back into your nest of pillows, surrounded by the scent of him in your linens and test the efficacy of his gift. It helps, and you do enjoy it, but in the end it isn’t him.

-

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[sassenach77yle]

7x12 “Carnal Knowledge”

In the woods,

an hour’s ride outside Philadelphia

JOHN GREY HAD BEEN quite resigned to dying.

Had expected it from the moment that he’d blurted out, “I have had carnal knowledge of your wife.” The only question in his mind had been whether Fraser would shoot him, stab him, or eviscerate him with his bare hands. To have the injured husband regard him calmly and say merely, “Oh? Why?” was not merely unexpected but . . . infamous. Absolutely infamous. “Why?” John Grey repeated, incredulous. “Did you say ‘Why?’”

“I did. And I should appreciate an answer.”

Now that Grey had both eyes open, he could see that Fraser’s outward calm was not quite so impervious as he’d first supposed. There was a pulse beating in Fraser’s temple, and he’d shifted his weight a little, like a man might do in the vicinity of a tavern brawl: not quite ready to commit violence but readying himself to meet it. Perversely, Grey found this sight steadying.

“What do you bloody mean, ‘Why’?” he said, suddenly irritated. “And why aren’t you fucking dead?” “I often wonder that myself,” Fraser replied politely. “I take it ye thought I was?”

“Yes, and so did your wife! Do you have the faintest idea what the knowledge of your death did to her?”

The dark-blue eyes narrowed just a trifle. “Are ye implying that the news of my death deranged her to such an extent that she lost her reason and took ye to her bed by force? Because,” he went on, neatly cutting off Grey’s heated reply, “unless I’ve been seriously misled regarding your own nature, it would take substantial force to compel ye to any such action. Or am I wrong?”

The eyes stayed narrow. Grey stared back at them. Then he closed his own eyes briefly and rubbed both hands hard over his face, like a man waking from a nightmare. He dropped his hands and opened his eyes again.

“You are not misled,” he said, through clenched teeth. “And you are wrong.” Fraser’s ruddy eyebrows shot up—in genuine astonishment, Grey thought. “Ye went to her because—from desire?” His voice rose, too. “And she let ye? I dinna believe it.”

The color was creeping up Fraser’s tanned neck, vivid as a climbing rose. Grey had seen that happen before and decided recklessly that the best—the only—defense was to lose his own temper first. It was a relief.

“We thought you were dead, you bloody arsehole!” he said, furious. “Both of us! Dead! And we—we—took too much to drink one night—very much too much . . . We spoke of you . . . and . . . Damn you, neither one of us was making love to the other—we were both fucking you!”

Fraser’s face went abruptly blank and his jaw dropped. Grey enjoyed one split second of satisfaction at the sight, before a massive fist came up hard beneath his ribs and he hurtled backward, staggered a few steps farther, and fell. He lay in the leaves, completely winded, mouth opening and closing like an automaton’s.

All right, then, he thought dimly. Bare hands it is. The hands wrapped themselves in his shirt and jerked him to his feet. He managed to stand, and a wisp of air seeped into his lungs. Fraser’s face was an inch from his. Fraser was in fact so close that Grey couldn’t see the man’s expression—only a close-up view of two bloodshot blue eyes, both of them berserk. That was enough. He felt quite calm now. It wouldn’t take long.

“You tell me exactly what happened, ye filthy wee pervert,” Fraser whispered, his breath hot on Grey’s face and smelling of ale. He shook Grey slightly. “Every word. Every motion. Everything.”

Grey got just enough breath to answer. “No,” he said defiantly.

“Go ahead and kill me.”[...]

Fraser stood quite still for a moment, breathing slowly and regarding Woodbine as a tiger might regard a hedgehog: yes, he could eat it, but would the inconvenience of swallowing be worth it?

“Take him, then,” he said abruptly, stepping back from Grey. “I have business elsewhere.” Woodbine had been expecting argument; he blinked, disconcerted, and half-raised his stick, but said nothing as Fraser stalked toward the far edge of the clearing. Just under the trees, Fraser turned and gave Grey a flat, dark look.

“We are not finished, sir,” he said. Grey pulled himself upright, disregarding both the pain in his liver and the tears leaking from his damaged eye. “At your service, sir,” he snapped.

Fraser glared at him and moved into the flickering green shadows, completely ignoring Woodbine and his men. One or two of them glanced at the corporal, whose face showed his indecision. Grey didn’t share it. Just before Fraser’s tall silhouette vanished for good, he cupped his hands to his mouth.

“I’m not bloody sorry!” he bellowed.

4 DON'T ASK QUESTIONS YOU DON'T WANT TO HEAR THE ANSWERS TO ~ Written in My Own Heart's Blood

[trulyumai]

Oh, Mr mosses (Series!) V

Synopsis: You were fine with the job, the steps were easy enough but the secret  of the D.D.D was getting harder and harder to contain. Each night a new entity would enter the building, each with its own horrific look and intentions. Just as you debate on leaving, a new resident has entered the premises; Francis Mosses who is absolutely entranced by your being. Now, his Mimic has taken a liking to you too.

Will you be as smitten of them as they are of you? Only time will tell.

Author Note: Hello everyone, a bit longer of a chapter but thats okay! After Thursday I will be final free! Which means I'll have more time for writing and answering requests, thank you for your patience! <3

Warnings: Blood, Obsessive/Possessive behavior, Stalking, Talk about Death, Mutilation.

Also available on AO3!

Taglist: @tfamidoingwithmylife @mariaflor873 @fandomfeind @greycloudsy @skully-skeleton-bone0106 @im-here-for-the-fun-of-it @the-tiger-lover78 @itoshilvr @wilddreamer98 (Let me know if you want to be added!)

God, even the way she laid there, limp against the office wall was everything to him. 

Biting down on 28 only crunches and squelches echoed through the room, the said man laid in pieces by his feet. 

He casually sat there in her squeaky chair, munching on a limb like it was normal; an everyday hobby. 

Humming a familiar tune he threw the rest of the arm past him, somewhere towards the cabinets, he had to guess. 

With his feet on the desk he sighed. 

Soon the D.D.D would learn of his presence, his safety would be at risk and his little toy would be in even more danger than she already was. 

Maybe he would take her, hide her away to be his little wife. That is what they’re called, aren’t they?

First things first; he had to dispose of the replica. 

Clicking his teeth he scratched his nails on the wood beside him. 

That fucking fool. A useless mirror image he copied. 

He had to learn everything about the man before taking his face; starting with his job, his hobbies, his routes, down to the fucking shampoo he preferred. Until it got to his favorite area, the most recent addition in his life; the pretty receptionist. 

He knew it would be so easy to manipulate the woman. Her mind was so weak compared to him, with just a tad bit of bending (Mentally and a bit physically), he molded her perfectly for him. 

Enough to not only get access to the building, but to her as well. 

She groaned as she laid there, she must be having a nightmare. He hoped it involved him, with some image of the mimic biting chunks out or flesh, kissing them as he went on.  Holding back a grin he decided to move her, before someone else were to poke their nose in the already bloodied business of theirs. He pulled her up until she reached his chest and eyed the old corroded clipboard by the door. 

Going down the list of names he got to her; room 24 Level 2.

Stepping through the red he rubbed his feet on 28’s corpse, letting the leftover blood dry on his once white, button up. We wouldn’t want a little trail now would we? 

Clicking the green button he passed 28 once more, whistling lowly as the elevator pushed its doors open with a groan. 

Stepping in his clawed finger pressed the second button on the wall, watched as the doors came together with a satisfying thunk. 

Belly satiated and full, he looked down at the woman in his arms, her head was lolled to the side, leaning firmly on his chest. Grinning wide he bent towards her, pressing a sloppy, bloody kiss to her forehead, cheek and nose. 

The box dinged once again, the doors slid open loudly to indicate their arrival to her floor. 

Walking through the corridor, he read the numbers idly 

10, 12, 14, 

A turn left 

16, 18, 20- 

A creek escaped, some neighbor had opened their door, just up ahead.

It was that rich suited prick. 

“Ah! Francis, lovely to- is that the receptionist?” His grin was hesitant, eying the girl with bloody marks on her face. 

He could kill him now, but it would be more of a mess to deal with, he doubted he could hide another body from the D.D.D.

Mustering up a smile, his sharp teeth gritted together.

“She’s ah, not feeling well,” attempting to move past the pompous man and walk towards her door just steps away, the man stopped them once more and put a hand out for extra measure. 

Growling he slowly turned, met the eyes of the man once more. 

“Do we have a problem,” he gritted, claws digging into the poor girl below him. 

“Well- ah, tell her to visit me when she feels up to it,” 

He put his hand back at his side, rubbing his fingers idly. 

“I have a job opportunity for her, you see!” 

Not bothering to waste anymore time, he pressed on to her room. Ignoring the suited man's stares as he clicked her key into place, shoving them both inside before slamming the door. 

“Fucking prick.” He muttered. 

But now he was all alone, could touch and prod at the girl with no interruptions. 

Looking around he noticed the apartment was tidy; everything had a place, plants sat by the darkened windowsill and beside them, a full bookcase was laid about. Her kitchen was spotless, only a few decorative items littered the counters while the sink was, of course, empty. 

Holding her up with one hand he scratched at his gums, pieces of bone were starting to prod against his teeth, becoming more annoying than painful. 

Looking for her bedroom he propped open a door with his shoulder, and with a thump, dumped her unceremoniously on the mattress. 

It was then, he realized. 

“Oh fuck.” 

Bolting angrily back towards the door, the hallway and elevator as fast as he could, he bit down on his annoyingly human cheek; hard. 

He left the elevator unlocked. 

Any other mimic could come through freely and he really couldn’t have that. 

Another competition for his food? Yeah no, fuck that. He hated how territorial his kind was, made everything a pain in the ass to retrieve and made survival even more strenuous. 

It’s why he found himself here; In this little rundown apartment, with surprisingly good security. 

Being denied and caught over and over made everything so much more satisfying, because he knew that if he waited- stuck around for the right moment, he’d get in. 

Watched plenty of his kind die too, before deciding to take a shape of his own, and finally, making his way to the pretty and gullible receptionist. 

Mashing the first floor button he clawed at his face, light red marks dented down with each press of his fingers. 

Ironically enough, he’s the one that has to distinguish between what’s real and fake now.

Waiting for the elevator he growled.

“What a pain in the ass.” 

——

The milkman was tired. Getting in, absolutely no one was there to check his ID, and he wondered if the receptionist was okay (Yet again). It seemed that lately, that’s all he could think about. Her health, the way she smiled, her pretty hands.

 Not once had she missed any of her shifts, and although he had only been there for a short time, he would always hear from the neighbors how dutiful she was. 

Come sickness, fatigue, anything, she would be there. 

Walking past the office, his fingers shook cautiously by his sides. 

Enough was enough, he would talk to her, he couldn’t avoid her forever and his little, “crush,” wasn’t going away anytime soon. 

So with a long intake of air. He pressed her floor number. 

It was now or never. 

The doors closed, and the travel up began. 

Floor1

Ding!

Floor 2

Ding!

With his head pointed downwards he heard the doors sliding open before walking forward, passing a quick figure to his left. Not bothering to greet them he kept his head down.

The anxiety was getting to him and wait- he didn’t even know what room she was in! 

Head up, he turned back toward the figure that passed him. 

They obviously resided on this floor, maybe he could attempt to ask them about her room without completely looking like a creep. 

But what he saw he just couldn’t explain- rationally describe. 

His face stared back at him, it was set in a scowl while he noticed vast amounts of blood adorned his usually crisp white shirt. The doors were on their way to closing, and this version of him reached out to stop it.

He was too late, the metal doors crashed together and Francis could feel his heart jumping out of his chest. 

What the actual fuck was going on.

Was he that tired? 

Grabbing his face he turned back, mumbling incessant comforts to stop the beats of his heart from getting any faster. 

He needed to find her room, and fast.

-

The first thing she noticed was her head. It boomed with an unfathomable amount of pressure, and she was hesitant to open her eyes. 

She felt around, immediately recognizing the comfort of her own duvet, the silkiness of her pillows,  the faint wafts of the candle she lit the night prior. It calmed the tenseness found between her shoulders, instantly relaxing against the cushioned material. 

With a muffled groan she allowed her eyelids to slink up, her messy room greeted her vision. 

Not remembering the trip up, she laid there, stretched out and confused. 

Craning her head just off the side of the bed, the receptionist glanced towards the hallway; to her front door that was wide open. 

Jerking up, her feet collided with one another, and looking more like a newborn calf than human she attempted her way to the front of the room. 

Never before had a fatigue caused this much confusion; chaos to her mind. 

Something had to be wrong. 

She remembered clocking in, idly sitting by as the clock ticked and ticked. After that it was all blank- it startled her to no end. 

With a hand on the door frame her figure leaned on the wall, just outside her abode. 

Biting her lip she held back a whimper, the bright lights of the hall burned her eyes, she tried to go off of memory, closing her eyes as she felt for every familiar bump and groove of the space.

Turning to where she remembered the elevator was, someone bumped into her- hard. 

“My goodness!” That voice… could it really be? 

“Francis?” Squinting her eyes she blinked repeatedly, trying to get the figure to focus in her vision. 

“H-Hey,” the deep voice answered back, smiling, as she knew it was the tired mailman. Only he could have such a serious yet flustered sounding voice.  

“I've been looking for you,”

The man gripped the girl's shoulders, light yet firm and bent down just to meet her gaze.

“Some… things have been happening, I wanted to see if you were okay.” Flustered, the girl forced out a laugh, taking a hand off her shoulder she gripped it softly. 

“I'm okay, you look more disheveled than me, big guy, what's up?” Kneading the flesh around his knuckles the man couldn't help but relax. 

She smelled so good- of lilac and vanilla, it invaded his senses and corrupted his mind. He couldn't even remember the duplicate until it was shoved back by his consciousness. 

Letting out a low moan he shook his head. ‘Focus Francis, god-’ 

“I have to talk to you,” he blurted out, face getting warmer as she paused her movement, and looked right at him. 

Letting out a giggle she rested her arm, just so it leaned comfortably in the crook of his elbow. 

“Okay? My rooms around the corner, if you wanna talk there?”

Not relying on his words he nodded his head, letting the girl lightly pull his arm to her apartment. 

Now, he just had to figure out how to explain his bloody twin. 

Should be easy!

And if she calls him crazy, and ultimately pushes him out of the apartment- possibly building, at least he got to get this close to her. 

Smelling her, touching her, it was better than living alone with his thoughts- tormenting him every hour of the week that he lazily spent thinking about her anyway.

Inhaling her flowery scent once more he shuddered, he hoped the pretty girl would believe him, so he could once more bask in her presence and ignore every little thing around.

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for borrowing screws from my aunt?

I, ?M, bought a new apartment recently, but it was really small (like 0.01 square meters). It was the best I could buy with my life savings, but it's impossible for me and my eight sets of triplets to live in. And, my wife is mad at me.

Therefore, I made the decision to expand the apartment on my own. Using galvanized square steel, I was able to make a frame connected to my window that gave me more space to live. However, to hold this frame together, I needed screws.

I asked my aunt if I could borrow screws from her, and she let me. I took those screws and built my frame, and now I'm living comfortably in an apartment filled with eco friendly wood veneer, a wall-mounted toilet, and my grandmother's coffin. And my pet tiger.

However, after a while, my aunt decided she wanted the screws back. She said since I just "borrowed" them, I should give them back within a few months. However, I can't afford any better house; all the new ones are less than 0.000001 square meters, and I would need even more steel and screws for those.

Meanwhile, my wife divorced me and my other girlfriend is living in a sewer.

So I don't know what to do. I don't wanna live in a sewer, because I don't have enough galvanized square steel to fix that up. My aunt is furious, and I don't want to start having to ask for screws from my sister-in-law because that got even more messy last time.

So AITA for borrowing screws and not being able to give them back?

[monkey-banana41]

Fanfic Writer Interview

Many thanks to the awesome, amazing @hibiscesque for the tag! Very honored to do this <3 It's been a busy year for writing, so let's goooo~

How many works do you have on AO3?

In total 47~! For 2024, it's 41. (BSD really jumpstarted my writing juices XD)

Your top 5 stories by kudos/likes:

Not surprising all BSD (and also all SKK) XP

Always At Your Service, My Master - Oneshot / Explicit / 9,155 words - Written as a request for the BSD Gotcha4Gaza, it features DaChuu and their time before events of the Dark Era. It explores their relationship and unspoken feelings with a hint of spice and steam. Chuuya also wears a maid outfit. Because Dazai.

Forever My Loyal Servant - Oneshot / Explicit / 7,560 words - A short story for Bottom Dazai Week 2024. Takes place in the Beast universe, exploring the pining, the angst, and the unspoken feelings between Dazai and Chuuya. Also (makes attempts) to explore the power dynamic between the two of them, as they spend every night together. Angsty and sad. So many feelings when I got to the end ;w;

Our Unstoppable Destined Love - Oneshot / Mature / 6,401 words - Another Bottom Dazai Week story. Uh, Dazai in a dress while being the mafia boss is what got me started on this one. Just Dazai and Chuuya having a good old time while they're on the job. Whoops.

Finding Love in You - Oneshot / Mature / 11,871 words - Written for Chuuya Week 2024. Chuuya is the royal king, and Dazai is his newest wife. They start off on the wrong foot, but Dazai just can't help but wooed by him. It's such a cute little story <3

May You Be Mine? - Oneshot / Mature / 10,251 words - An office AU in which Chuuya is the custodian and Dazai is the office worker. It was supposed to end sadish, but then somehow, it turned out to be cute. Re-reading this makes me wanna eat chocolates made by Chuuya. Dazai is so lucky!

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! I respond super slow, but I eventually do! It's neat to interact with others, and it's a way of showing my appreciation to the lovely readers who enjoyed the story <3

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

I like to write angsty stories, so a lot of the stories tend to have bittersweet/sad endings. But I think it's a tie between The Wicked Truth Among the Gentle Lies and The Unobtainable Glass Soul. The first one is SKK and... oof. Without giving too much away, the line between reality and desire is harsh. :') As for the second one, it is a FyoZai story, and it was written for Dead Dove Week, so the DD ending is... tough to swallow. Poor Dazai. The emotional pain killed my heart T_T

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Dreaming of You, Fated to be With You, in particular Chapter 5. It's a super sweet and cute AU in which Akutagawa is an archeologist/explorer and Atsushi is cursed as a tiger. The interaction between them is just down right adorable and hilarious sweet, especially since Atsushi can't communicate using regular words due to being a tiger. It's such a light-hearted, fun little AU.

Do you write crossovers?

Not yet. But I once thought about a crossover between Demon Slayers and BSD. It'd be fun to see the characters interact.

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Knock on wood, I haven't!

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Alongside complex, layered issues and thought provoking emotions.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Luckily, I haven't. Hopefully it stays that way.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes! It wasn't a BSD story. It was for a story I wrote called A Punishing Gift. It was for an otome game, Piofiore, featuring the pairing, Yang / Lily. I'm still super honored and humbled that it was widely loved by the reader who did such great working translating it into a masterpiece.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes! I've written with Lily (another Lily; she sadly isn't on tumblr) on plenty of stories. It's always such a blast bouncing around ideas and seeing the characters lose it because of such said ideas. (Always up for co-writing with my moots and anyone in the community! Co-writing is so much fun <3)

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

That's a tough one. A toss up between SKK and Fyozai. But also SSKK, Kunizai, and DazAtsu. Okay, I just love these pairings too much to choose only one T_T

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Uhhhh... all of them. The WIP list is endless. Although I'd love to continue the two stories I did for the SKK Summer Exchange 2024 - Seeing My in You and Living a Life of My Own. My brain already has scenes and ideas for the next chapters, but... the time ;w;

What are your writing strengths?

I've been told it's transitioning in between scenes and characters' introspective thoughts. I also have lots of fun writing villains and their characters, exploring their motives and learning that they're very human despite what the they do.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing way too much when it's not needed sometimes. I get really into the story and the character, then forget that it needs less words, more clarity lol!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I think it depends on the feel and intent of a given situation that is happening in the story. For myself, I don't do it too much, as I'm not sure I do it justice, writing dialogue in another language.

What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

For fandom, it's Demon Slayers, JJK, and Pandora Hearts. Without rambling too much, the worlds are so fascinating and the characters are equally fantastic. Would love to explore lots of ships for all three series. For a particular ship, I'd love to write Emily and JJ from Criminal Minds. Their dynamic is peak.

What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

All of them! I had so much fun writing each and every single one <3

Tagging: @theroadtosomewhere, @bunnys-tales, @aurorahrt, @falloutjuli, @xerx, @apatheticanvas91305 (no obligations! many apologies if already done >_<)

[ryin-silverfish]

Hi! I read your posts about Su Daji, and I believe one of them were about her being the literal incarnate of the Moon Fox of the 28 mansions.

I was wondering if there's any lore surrounding the 28 mansions, and if there are any incarnates of them other than her

I more specifically wanted to know about the Moonbird of Net, but I wouldn't mind learning about the others!

Well, tiny correction: Su Daji is not the incarnate of the Heart Moon Fox, but Wu Zetian, China's one and only female emperor, is said Lunar Mansion incarnate in Flowers in the Mirror, a Qing dynasty novel.

In another Qing dynasty novel, Shuoyue Quanzhuan (说岳全传), the notoriously corrupt historical figure, Qin Hui's wife, was the Maiden Earth Bat (女土蝠) incarnate: having been killed by the Golden-winged Peng for farting during Buddha's lecture, she would take revenge on his reincarnation, the heroic general Yue Fei.

About the 28 Lunar Mansions themselves: originally, they are kinda like the Chinese equivalent of the 12 zodiac in western astronomy.

Like, think of the sky as a belt, divided into 4 quadrants, each quadrant containing a giant constellation that represents the Divine Beasts of the Four Directions: Azure Dragon(E), White Tiger(W), Vermillion Bird(S), Black Turtle(N).

Each of these giant constellations can then be broken down into 7 smaller stars/star clusters, corresponding to a section of the sky. They are used to mark the position of the moon during a given month, as well as determine the seasons via the sun's location in a given mansion.

Azure Dragon: 角(Jiao)、亢(Kang)、氐(Di)、房(Fang)、心(Xin)、尾(Wei)、箕(Ji)

White Tiger: 奎(Kui)、娄(Lou)、胃(Wei)、昴(Mao)、毕(Bi)、觜(Zi)、参(Shen)

Vermillion Bird: 斗(Dou)、牛(Niu)、女(Nv)、虚(Xu)、危(Wei)、室(Shi)、壁(Bi)

Black Turtle: 井(Jing)、鬼(Gui)、柳(Liu)、星(Xing)、张(Zhang)、翼(Yi)、轸(Zhen)

However, like many things astronomy, they were later appropriated by astrology and used in divinations, by assigning an element/phase and an animal to each of these stars, making them into the "Beast Stars" (禽星) who can faciliate or obstruct each other, with different implications on your best course of action that day.

Now, look back at the list above. Each vertical column is assigned an element, in this order: Wood, Metal, Earth, Sun, Moon, Fire, Water.

So Star Lord Mao of the White Tiger Quadrant would be the "Sun Rooster Star", Star Lord Xin of the Azure Dragon Quadrant would be the "Moon Fox Star", etc.

But wait, there is more! Outside of the Beast Star divination system, traditional Chinese astrology also viewed the starry sky as the Heavenly Emperor's palace, with each constellation representing an area/building/resident of said palace.

Following that line of thought, people in the Tang dynasty came up with a catchy poetic star catalogue, 步天歌("Song of the Sky Pacers"), in which the 28 Lunar Mansions are kinda like managers who watch over their own group of stellar officials.

And the big 4 quadrants they are part of? Well, they are like four departments, each with their own general themes.

These themes aren't absolute; for example, the Azure Dragon Quadrant represents the front gate all the way up to the main palace halls, so they have a lot of stellar officials in charge of chariots, gates and honor guards, but also...grain baskets.

As for the Moonbird of Net, a.k.a. Bi Yuewu the Moon Crow Star: well, ain't this the damnest coincidence, I actually had an old OC concept based on this very Lunar Mansion!

Bi the Moon Crow

In traditional Chinese astrology, the Bi star was the god of rain, the "Master Rain"(雨师) to the "Duke Wind"(风伯) of Ji star: it was believed that whenever the moon came near this star, there would be a huge storm.

Since the Grand Compendium of the Three Religions' Deities stated that "Master Rain" was actually a one-legged divine bird called Shang Yang, who first appeared in 孔子家语 as this little creature who'd dance before every downpour like a goofy weather forecast guy, I drew his Stellar Beast form as a one-legged crow.

(OC-specific stuff below, not mythos canon)

He is very skilled at creating cloud formations, to the point where he got "borrowed" by the Wind and Thunder Bureau more than some of the Water-aligned Lunar Mansions.

After the Havoc, he has also become the new guy in charge of the Peach Garden(one of the constellations falling under Bi's section of the sky is Tianyuan, the Celestial Garden).

Anyways, traditional Chinese astrology is super fascinating, and I've only gone into a tiny fraction of it here. Hope it helps, though!

[geekedoutbunny]

Macaque x Former Nun! Reader - The Aftermath

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Macaque x Former Nun! Reader - The Aftermath

Paring: Macaque x Former Nun! Reader

Rating: Rated M

Warning: Angst, Death, Murder, Insanity, Mention of attempted rape, religion

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Tag List: @wife-of-magic-monkeys

You walked carefully through the debris of the burnt-down church you once called home. Your eyes held sadness as many memories flashed through your mind as you recognized burnt and destroyed items. You paused when you saw a toy. It was a cute little tiger, and it made your heart clench.

You knew the little boy who owned the toy, he was the sweetest little guy you ever met. Always smiling, always ready to help and play, he was so adorable. You crouched down to pick up the ash-covered toy, you stared down at it sadly as you gently caressed the head.

"Please, please tell me you got out." You whispered as you held the dusty toy close to you. You looked up, your eyes scanning the black burnt wood and grass, it was surreal. You stood up and you sighed.

Macaque walked through the mess with a careless stare, he had no ties to the place, and in all honesty, he was kind of glad the place was burnt down. He stopped, an impassive look on his face as he stared down at the spot. He mentally congratulated the nun that was allegedly the cause of this all. Apparently, she was tired of the lies and the deception.

Her last straw was when the priest tried to force himself on her while using Mother Mary's name to lure her in, and in retaliation for her reality crumbling so fast before her, she went through the place, stabbed her roommate to death, snapped some kids neck, plucked another kids eye out, threw a nun over the balcony of the stairs, and then she brunt the church down.

It was a casual case of insanity, and he honestly couldn't blame her. Too bad she died in the fire, it's strange that they found her in the praying position at the altar, it seems that before she died she came back to her senses and did the only thing she knew how to do. But he was pretty convinced that she was down in the underworld.

He looked around at the destruction, and he hummed lightly in thought before he walked off. Where he was standing before, was a clean spot of unburnt wood in an oval shape. "Mother Mary sure isn't real, but she was praying to something." He muttered as he walked over towards you.

You haven't moved much since you found the toy tiger, he approached you quietly, but he made sure to make his footsteps audible. You didn't look around to look at him, but he knew you were aware of him. "This is awful." You whispered. He hummed in response as he came to a stop a few steps behind you.

Unshead tears in your eyes as you squeeze the toy to your chest, the ash rubbing on your arms and clothes, but you don't care. You sniffled for a bit before you turned around to face him. The impassive look on his face spoke volumes, and you had nothing against it. It wasn't like he grew up here, so of course he wouldn't care as much as you did.

"Why? Why did she do it? Why didn't she just leave, like I did?" You asked him, and your throat felt tight. The wind blew past you both lightly. "Because she didn't have an escape like you did. You had me, she had nothing. The very thing she believed in, that she held onto with all her heart, was suddenly ripped from her in an instant. She had a very harsh reality check, that her whole world was an entire lie"

He explained. You stared at him for a while longer, thinking over his words. "If she did... do you think she would've still done it?" You asked. He shrugged before he looked down at the toy in your arms. "It's hard to say, but these people would've all still died either way." He said. You shook your head. "No!! They only died because... because she couldn't handle it." You said in a light voice.

He sighed. "Listen, everyone has a set date when they die, it's in the book of Death, you have a time and a date. No matter what happens, no matter where you go, you are due to die at that date and time. There is no changing it." He explained. You didn't want to believe it, you didn't want to listen, but you couldn't argue with him. He was always right.

You looked down with a sad stare, he stared at you for a while before he approached you. He placed a hand on the small of your back, pulling you with him. "Come on, let's get out of here before you catch something from the ashes." He said gently as he pulled you along with him. You walked with him for a while, letting him guide you out of the debris.

As soon as your feet touch the grass, you turn around. "Wait, I need to pray for them." You said gently. He stared at you with a pensive stare, for he pulled back from you. You sighed as you got down on your knees. You gently placed the toy down on the grass next to you, Macaque stared at the toy with a tense stare.

You clasped your hands together, and you bowed your head. "Mother Mary... it's been a while since I spoke to you... and I'm sad to say that this'll be my last prayer to you... I ask you to help guide these lost souls in the promised land and lead them to endless happiness. Lead them to fulfillment... please watch over all my former sisters and the children... I hope that their souls are not bound to this world, help them to see the light, and guide them down the path of righteousness. In the name of Mother Mary, Brother Joseph, and the holy child that is Jesus Christ, Amen."

You took a breath as you slowly opened your eyes. You stared at the burned ruins, and you gripped your hands tighter together as your eyes closed tight. Your breath shudders, and your shoulders shake as you silently cry. Macaque waited patiently for you to get your tears out. It took you about 10 minutes, you were grateful for him.

Once your tears had dried, you picked up the toy, and you stood up. You walked over towards Macaque, a small smile on your face. "Ready?" He asked. You nodded. "Yeah." You said your voice was small but strong. He nodded in return as he took your free hand in his. You both walked for a while silently, a strange sense of peace befallen you.

"Macaque?" You questioned. He hummed in response. "Do you think that Charles is out there somewhere?" You asked. He looked over at you, seeing a gesture towards the toy. He stared at the toy for a while before he looked off. "Maybe." He simply said it was a neutral answer, but it was still enough to make you smile, it gave you hope.

'I hate lying to you, but if I told you the truth, it'll probably kill you.' Macaque thought as he stared back over at the toy. 'Charles was the kid who got his neck snapped. One day, I'll tell you the truth, until then, I just want to see you smile again.'