#tw: divine right of kings

[a-painful-ordeal]

5. Satanic and Chained Up

Cw: Slavery, slapping, extremist ideology in a fantasy setting, whumper believes in the Divine Right Of Kings, religious justification of torture, stress position, threats of a flogging, description of a flogging that hasn’t occurred.

Note: whumper and whumpee’s religious stances do NOT reflect my own. This is an exploration of ‘The Divine Right of Kings’ and general extremist bullshit. Evan’s views also are me playing with how atheism can manifest in a world where the gods frequently interact with mortals. Lord Maynard is a paladin and this is a subversion of the usual stereotypes.

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Evan’s heart races as he stands in a huge bedroom with a four-poster bed. The beauty and size dwarves him in comparison. Beautiful curtains hang from the wooden frame above the bed. To one corner of the room is an ornately painted screen to change behind. The screen stands next to a well-decorated wardrobe. In the other corner, sits a wooden table with a bowl of exotic fruits that Evan has never seen before. A fire sits not too far from the bed, glowing gently in the absence of its master.

Evan moves around the room, checking and double checking the windows for an exit. They are locked. Fuck. They are locked.

His anger and fear blend together. Why couldn’t he have just gone along with those guards and pretended. Maybe no one would have noticed. At least that way, he wouldn’t have gotten a thrashing and- whatever this is…

Deep breath in. And out. Calm. He tries to relax as an eternity passes. Waiting. Focus on something else. Anything else. What would he be doing now…? If he hadn’t been so stupid to think someone would genuinely try to help a street kid. He’d be… bickering with Meg maybe. Arguing about her dumb fictional crushes which he had never been able to relate to. Or maybe he’d be telling her to put another flea-ridden cat she found back where she found it, or so help him… it was always an empty threat. Meg enjoyed the bickering. And in all honesty, so did he. Or, maybe he’d be trying to wash her smelly unicorn toy. That thing was disgusting. M, would probably be hanging around watching, or taking Meg’s side. M had always been soft when it came to the little ones, letting things slide that she’d chastise him for with a grin now. She’d looked out for him like that once, too. A long time ago. But now she counts on him being able to help her look after all three of them. Counted. But she counted on him helping her look after all three of them of them. What would she do now?

Evan rubs his eyes with the heel of his hand. No. He will see them again. This is not the end. He’ll get out of here…. Somehow…and move his way back to…. Wherever they were before. It’ll be fine. Or maybe they will rescue him? Find out what’s happened and come to save him.

The doors swing open, cutting off his train of thought, as the large, well-dressed figure of Lord Maynard enters. Evan finally gets a good look at him as the man strides into his chambers. He’s a human man, with well-kept black hair. He has large, broad shoulders and styled black hair. If Evan had seen him around the town, he might have assumed he was a merchant.

Maynard moves towards Evan, like a lion assessing an antelope. Evan swallows, exhaustion from earlier being chased away with a fresh bout of fear. He fights the urge to move back, instead, standing his ground. He raises his chin and puffs his chest out, swallowing back the pain from his beating.

“So. You must be the little slave who stole food and tried to escape?” the Lord asks. His tone is light, with a hint of danger to it.

Evan stays silent. His mouth begins to dry and the urge to back up begins to scream at him.

Maynard steps close. “Answer me when I’m talking to you.” His demands echoes around the room.

Evan feels his legs beginning to shake. Answer or not… this is a trap. Anything he says… he’s fucked.

Maynard walks forwards and strikes Evan. The rings on his hand scour two bloody lines across the cheek. The lines cut into the already yellow and blue cheek, which hasn’t fully recovered from earlier. “You will give me a response or I will have a finger taken off for your insolence.”

Evan’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels his throat begin to constrict. He feels all bravery leave him. “Y-” he coughs “Yes. I am.”

“You will address me as Sir or Master. Understood?”

“Yes… Sir…”

Maynard smiles “That was easy, wasn’t it?”

Evan stays quiet. Unsure what he could say in response.

“Now. Let’s get one thing clear. I will not tolerate disobedience from scum. The gods have placed me on this world to protect the good people from devils like you. And if that causes me to have to whip the evil out of you, then so be it. I will be doing my duty.” Maynard says this with pride in his voice, like man who has achieved something grand.

“You will obey me. And you will learn the place that the gods have allocated to you. Understood?”

Evan blinks. He fights the urge to call this man absolutely fucking nuts. Best not to do that when trapped in a room with him. “Yes…Sir.”

“Good. Now. You will kneel when I enter a room. Understood?”

Evan blinks, taking a small step backwards. His body shouts to run whilst his brain pushes him to fight. A surge of resilient pride runs through him for a moment, just long enough for all sense to be lost. “No-”

What he said suddenly registers, and he wants to kick himself.

“No?” There is a quiet rage in Maynard’s voice.

“Wait, I mean-” Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Fear shoots through him. Just comply. Stay alive and live to fight another day.

Evan drops to his knees with a thud that causes him to wince. He stares at the ground. Let that be enough. Please.

“Don’t you dare say no to me.” The Lord growls “But no. By all means. If you don’t want to kneel. Don’t.”

He grabs Evan’s thin wrists in one hand, roughly pulling Evan to his feet and dragging the boy across the room to the four-poster bed. Evan’s wrists are shifted from Maynard’s left hand to his right hand as he grabs some cord that holds the bed-curtain together. He throws it over the wood at the top of the bed, before wrapping the other end, tightly around Evan’s wrists. Maynard then begins to wrench Evan’s weight up, until the boy is on his tiptoes.

“There. Now you don’t have to kneel. How does that feel? Boy? Better. I hope so.” Maynard spits, his voice full of righteous anger.

Evan’s wrists scream at him as the cord tightens, digging into his wrists. His jaw trembles slightly from the pain as the skin on his hip is stretched out. He lets out a small whine.

“I asked you a question. Does that feel better?”

Evan’s mind races. Yes? Or no? What does the man want to hear? Anything. Say what he wants. Fuck bravery and resilience. He wants to make it out of this in tact. Evan makes a split second decision. “No... Master.” His skin crawls at the word. The word fills him with a strange repulsive nausea but he continues. “I would… prefer to kneel…” There is a foul taste on his tongue as he finishes the sentence. He wants to swear and spit and shout… but so far, that had just gotten him hurt. Maybe this will work better? Do what Trygve said… keep his head down?

“That is a shame… you can kneel in the morning. Before I have you flogged for your little scene earlier.”

Evan blinks. That… didn’t work… wait. Flogging. What?

The boy’s shock is clearly evident on his face as Lord Maynard looks at him “You didn’t think that you wouldn’t be punished for your act of dissidence did you?” He shakes his head as he causally begins to the screen to undress for bed. There is the click as he undoes his belt. The sounds of fabric rubbing together.

Evan can see an arm stretch to grab a night shirt.

“You stole from me and injured my employee. Clearly, you deserve some punishment. Otherwise the gods wouldn’t have brought you into my hands. No. But don’t fear. I’m not unjust. The punishment will fit the crime. You stole from around twenty meals. And injured a guard. I’d say thirty lashes should suffice.”

Evan’s stomach drops. And heart races in his throat.

Maynard reappears. “You can stay there till the morning, I think. Until you realize that kneeling for me really isn’t that bad.” He moves a candle to his bedside table. And spends a couple of moments pulling the bed’s covers back, causally. As if there wasn’t someone else in the room. He then climbs into bed. “Thirty lashes. Unless you wake me up. If you make a sound I will make sure that they flay the skin from your back. Understood?”

Evan nods quickly, blinking back tears.

“I didn’t hear you.”

“Y-yes… Sir…”

Evan’s face has gone pale during this speech. As the realization begins to set in. He’d seen floggings before. Thieves who’d gotten caught, or someone who’d started a fight. He’d seen ten lashes bring a grown man to tears as his skin was abused by knotted leather. Evan’s whole body trembles.

“Good. Much better.” With that, the Lord blows out the candle and nestles down in his bed. Curling up to sleep off the feast.

Evan stands there, hanging silently. His elven blood allows him perfect sight of the dark, grey room and the glowing embers from the fire. Despite the darkness that covers the room. His calves hurt as cramp sets in.

He blinks and hangs there. His wrists hurt as his hand’s circulation begins to go and the cord bites into his flesh.

Big tears begin to well in Evan’s eyes as he just wants to curl up and go home. Fuck why couldn’t he have stayed with Meg? Life had sucked in places before but this… this was worse. Why couldn’t he have decided not to meet those fucking men? Why can’t he just keep his fucking mouth shut?

The prospect of a flogging makes his chest heave deeply in a sob. He wants to sniff. To shakily cry and scream openly but he doesn’t. He uses all his willpower to keep himself from sobbing. He will not dig himself a deeper hole. A deeper grave to lie in.

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other. His knees hurt. Fuck. He tries to stretch out one leg to disperse the cramp, but that makes the other hurt more.

He wishes the morning would come sooner. And then wishes that this would last longer. Before his back gets torn open. Skin ripped from flesh. What kind of whip would be used? A bullwhip looks lethal, but what if this man preferred to use a sailor’s whip? Or maybe he would use one which is metal-tipped. Fuck fuck shitting fuck. Evan’s throat contracts slightly as his breathing increases.

Evan had seen the scars before. Of course he had. The only way to avoid a flogging if you were caught stealing or some other crime, was to pay. Gold will get you anywhere. The scars were ugly, and humiliating. They told the world what you have done and there was almost nothing that could undo that.

His legs tremble. He feels sick. Tears won’t stop falling. He silently inhales, allowing the shaky sobs to be as silent as possible. He hangs there, exhausted and terrified. Silently waiting and dreading the dawn.

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AN: Hopefully that was alright!! I decided to not put it through grammarly this time so hopefully the grammar and spelling isn't Wattpad levels of bad 🤣🤣

Again please do not mistake any of the characters beliefs for my own. I'm mostly just playing around in a DND setting. Lord Maynard would be a Paladin of Conquest and I'm playing with subverting paladins as a 'noble' class. If you want, feel free to guess Evan's class!

Masterlist Next

Taglist:

@sunshiline-writes @kixngiggles @pumpkin-spice-whump @ivycloak

[zorawitch]

FYI, emperor Elagabalus was a sadist. He made women by stripping them naked and then use them to pull his chariot, set loose poisonous snakes the audience attended the colosseum, and brutally and mercilessly tortured his female servants by whipping them, stuck them with pins and sharp objects he could find, and then poured boiling melted wax on them till they died.

I’m gonna need sources on that because I have done some research on her, and no credible source I’ve seen has any reference to this.

The issue with her contemporary Roman chroniclers is many of them were active in the political scene at the time and because Elagabalus was an extremely ineffective and incompetent emperor, they have a lot of reason to slander her, and there wasn’t exactly a peer-review system at the time. The trick with her is to find where the stories match up. If they don’t, it’s probably a lie.

Who she was is hard to pin down as a result. Historians disagree on how many times she was married, so minutiae like how she treated her servants is probably lost to time, because these weren’t the people the Roman elite cared about unless they were being weaponized against Elagabalus. The only people I’ve seen claiming this are TikTok “historians” who also say that she was worse than Caligula.

TLDR: the Roman elite were in the practice of slandering Elagabalus both during and after her lifetime, which means that everything we know about her is ancient gossip. Was she an extremely fucked up person who sucked ass at her job? Probably, but we don’t know for sure and get in the habit of checking your sources before you come on my blog lecturing me. Seriously, everything you just said sounds like it’s from Game of Thrones.

[harianaswhore]

⟡ cₕₐᵣₗₑₛ ₗₑcₗₑᵣc ₂ ⟡

NONE OF THESE ARE WRITTEN BY ME

ᵐʸ ᵒᵗʰᵉʳ ʳᵉᶜˢ ᶠ¹ ʳᵉᶜˢ

— ᶠᴸᵁᶠᶠ ⟡

childhood wedding - @russellsppttemplates

period simulator (^)

mama's boy (^)

my person (^)

baby me - @thepersonnamedsam

my home (^)

a dulcet evening - @f1daydreamers

orange theory - @forzalando

elevator - @silverstonesainz-archive

flowers for me. flowers for you. - @uglyducklingofthe2000s

doing it properly (^)

making movies out of memories (^)

prettiest - @starlost97

an unforgettable anniversary - @mariclerc

golden globes - @hemmingsleclerc

theories of relativity - @pucksandpower

something sweet (^)

sleepy endearment - @adventuringblind

missed signals - @ickie

73 questions with mrs. leclerc - @leclerc-hs

studies - @lxclerc

early mornings (^)

ten seconds (^)

mine (^) (i read their entire masterlist 😭)

sentimental - @illicitlimerence-writes

hot shot driver - @rebelwrites

ruination - @1644s

matchmaker pets - @the-flaneur

the moment divine - @leclsrc

beause it matters - @chlerc

— ᴬᴺᴳˢᵀ⟡

right timing (sobbed over this) - @moneymasnn

said something stupid, instead of 'i love you' (smut) - @absolutelynotmate-archive

world burning (tw: injury, violence, etc.) - @miirohs

i'll look after you (tw: not eating, passing out, etc.) - @roostersgirlfriendlovesf1

forced - @imaginaryf1shots

wait for your love - @leclerc-hs

all i'm asking for is your time - @mariahcarreyyy

as long as he's here (mentions of death of parents) - @forzalayla

just a mother - @natwritesf1

all of me for you (dark stuff !!! and smut towards the end) - @annie115

flushed (!!!! spiking drinks !!!!)- @xxblairexxss

— ˢᴹᵁᵀ⟡

inked - @pucksandpower

lessons in anatomy (suggestive) (^)

pretty songs and pretty moans - @theemporium

aphrodisiac (^)

like real people do - @monzabee

only for you - @mickyschumacher

hands to myself (^)

you're laughing (suggestive) - @scuderiahoney

whip em out - @norrisleclercf1

no mercy - @jamminvroomvroom

wedding night - @non-stop-imagines

needy - @cherry-leclerc

slut! (sexism, misogyny, etc.) - @luvth0t

one too many bites - @va1entinesg4l

something angelic - @agendabymooner

do i wanna know - @leclerc-hs

— ˢᴼᶜᴵᴬᴸ ᴹᴱᴰᴵᴬ ⟡

le temps de l'amour - @nouvellevqgue

dream girl - @lunavrse

everything has changed - @thisismeracing

king of manifesting (^)

da track life - @sincerlyleclerc

perfect - @mclqren

wrong city - @captainreecejames

everything ends...or does it? - @chrisevansonly

let me be your armour (^)

heart eyes (^)

charles' sweetheart (^)

the short con - @planetpiastri

i know places - @pierregazly

"you" in church - @slyscoutess

booktube - @edwardslvrr

tortured poets - @harrysfolklore

lestappen reimagined (^)

that boy is mine - @imnameimswrld

— ˢᴱᴿᴵᴱˢ ⟡

something just like this two lay all your love on me - @imthebadguyyy

mornings spent well two three - @thepersonnamedsam

life is a highway (lighting mcqueen!charles is everything to me) (smau) - @f1version

go for his brother two three (smau) - @il-miele-che-scrive

a paddock day (smau) - @sofs16

enemys enemys? lovers - @charlesslut16

saw ur mom at the grocery store well, i'm still in love with you (smau) - @love-belle

karma - @leclerc-s

just friends two three (smau) - @milaeth

revenge two - @xxblairexxss

bear hugs - @lightsoutletsgo

[gremlingottoosilly]

The Horror and the Wild [Emperor!Konig x fem!Reader]

It's time for the wedding - and the wedding night. Emperor is going to make sure you will bear his offsprings by the end of the night. Tags and TW: Dub-con, aphrodisiacs, power imbalance, breeding kink, size difference, loss of virginity, age difference(Konig in his forties, Reader in her twenties), medieval/fantasy AU, Konig is a pervert AND an evil dictator AO3

You weren’t saved from the humiliation of a public wedding. 

You weren’t saved the torture of picking the flowers as you were choosing the attire to your own funeral – and you weren’t saved your innocence by allowing yourself to ignore all the handmaidens and their horrible, disgusting picture books about penetration, pools of blood and hell that is saved between the legs of a man. 

“My condolences, dear princess. For your parents. And congratulations on your wedding. Our deepest hopes go to your coronation, Empress.” “From the king of South, we send our sheerest condolences. And congratulations on the wedding.” “May your parents rest in peace. And glory to the Emperor.” “Grief surely suits you, Dear Empress. As well as the crown.”

You think you might puke right in your royal garments, looking at all of the royal visitors. 

King Price of Southern Kingdom, with all of his knights – you do not know if you can find solace in the girl clinging to the hand of his masked knight, the stench of death filling you with calmness that you don’t know how to deal with. The girl is terrified, just like you – if you may, you’re probably the same age, that years of servitude grazing in the hands that are covered by the sheerest amounts of gloves. 

The lady – you don’t know her name, and you doubt that any woman in this hall is even allowed to have one other than her husband’s – is looking at you with understanding. You think you might actually die. 

— Lady Ryley? 

She smiles, and before you can go to her – hold her hands, ask her to disappear with you, maybe run away somewhere, you don’t even know where – the masked knight already drags her away, a firm hand on her shoulder. You’re alone, the weight of the royal robe is pinning you to the floor. 

You are dressed in black as the only form of rebellion – guests must assume you’re still mourning your parents, the grief in their eyes is mixed with congratulations on the Empire finally getting prospects of offspring – you hope you’d tore your womb from your body before König could lay his hands on you. Guests may assume that the wedding is a tab bit strange, maybe somewhat unusual for the emperor to marry someone of your status – tiny kingdom, no worthwhile resources, and almost zero prospects for trade. Maybe, you were the only treasure this kingdom ever had to sell so eagerly. 

König holds your hands because you know that you would try to run the second he is letting you go. You know he knows this, too. Guests may assume that he is being protective of his young wife – assassins aren’t unheard of in these places, after all, you were the empress now. The much smarter guests knew what kind of looks you gave him – perhaps, you had the best options at killing the notorious emperor right after he robbed you of the last remains of your dignity. 

You smile and wave like a damned pampered pigeon, pretty and useless, all dressed up in bows and black pearls, dark stones illuminating the depths of your despair – only the monster you had for a husband would even consider ordering a mourning dress this beautiful. You’re almost ashamed of wanting to paint it red – you almost feel bad while holding the butter knife and thinking about plunging it into your chest, ripping away all the delicate laces and ornaments that cut through your skin each time you breathe a bit too freely. 

— You look divine in this dress, meine Liebe. 

He smiles, you know he is – he didn’t forget about his damn hood even on his own wedding, but he holds you dearly, but he smiles with his eyes, an eerie sense of happiness that makes every guest shake in their seats. The Ruler of the Empire doesn’t smile. Not at his wife, who looks like she would rather kill herself, for sure – but he smiles as you say your wows, knowing full well you are not going to fulfill them, but he laughs when the priest stutters once you refused to say you do the first time – König has to squeeze your hands, reminding you of your place. Even your stubbornness has a limit, apparently. 

His lips are dry and chastity. 

König knows he can’t kiss you like he wants to – too many guests, too many pricks, thinking they have a look on his wife. If it weren’t for the admirers and desperate rulers of foreign lands, trying to force their songs and daughters to marry him out of a pathetic attempt at saving their countries, he wouldn’t even think about a public wedding. If it weren’t for the annoyance of constantly swatting the offers away, he would never allow the world to see you. Not how beautiful you look, not how pretty your eyes are, glistening with tears, not how much he just wanted to smother you with affection like there isn’t anyone around. 

Hells, if he knew so many people would accept the short notice for an invitation, he would invade their kingdoms while they were away at his wedding. 

König holds your face in his hands, the contrast between soft skin and his gloves is making you shiver – he pushes his hood up, even just for a little bit, and the only thing that is ever revealed to the audience is the scars on his chin and sudden dryness of his lips. He thought he overcame his childish anxiety when he was still a tiny bird stuck in his adolescence – but he looks at you, his pretty little princess, and his hands are shaking from the anticipation of a kiss. 

The guests will assume you’re crying because you love him so, so much. 

The Emperor knows better, kissing the tears from your lips like it was the sweetest treat around. 

*** You thought you were smart.

You really did. 

Such a slick motion, such an easy task – the girl coming with Knight Riley, the weak one, with trembling hands and face that spoke of innocence of lambs and with calloused hands of a fellow worker, took your hand as you were leaving. The veil of laughs and jokes about finally conceiving a worthy heir for the empire made you shiver from horror – and the girl swatted you to her side, a single sleight of hand putting…something in your palms. 

Some sort of plant – dried, smelling of something sweet and edible, flowers that would feel crispy on your tongue. She smiles softly, her hands are gentle on yours – she whispers in your ear before your respective monsters can catch you and throw you in their layers again. 

She said, it was mercy. 

She said, it would make -it- feel quick and easy. 

You hoped, it was a poison. 

It had to be, you wouldn’t accept anything else – the desire to die and fulfill the destiny of a loyal servant, the whispers of the god of dignified death – you may not see the sweetness of the afterlife with your Princess, but killing oneself to save their bodies from being violated is a worthy fate for any. You pushed the plant in your mouth as swiftly as possible, chewing on the dried grass and crispy flowers, hoping the effect would be immediate. 

You’re bathed and oiled like a pig for devour, short for the apple stuffed in your mouth – instead, you have forced a mouthful of wine, goblets after goblets. To ease the tension of the first night, the servants said, smiling understandably. You feel warm, you feel dizzy, you feel hellishly feverish, and it couldn’t be just from the alcohol – you close your eyes and hope that the plant took its way finally, releasing you from the shell of the mortal life. You’re dressed up in pretty garments, skimpy as something that the empress should never wear – you feel like a cheap whore when your skin is glossy with oils and decorated with flowers. 

Just before you started chewing on them too, your husband finally arrived. 

You hoped you’d be dead before ever seeing him naked again – but you’re forced to watch his muscles tense as the only thing saving his lack of dignity is the smallest ever piece of undergarments. It doesn’t help in hiding his arousal, the monstrosity between his legs. You knew you would have to die before he is ever putting anything in you – but you see the outline of his manhood, poking from the side of a simple cloth, and somehow, you feel hotter than before. 

You blame it on the wine, you blame it on the poison you took. The warmness is spreading in your tummy to your lower areas, forcing its way to moisture your garments, a wet spot, embarrassingly big for an Empress, is slowly spreading between your oiled, scented legs. You’re nothing but a feast for him, a pretty little snack – you knew how much he liked to eat, after all. What great talent he had in forcing your legs apart and showing his head between them, that sinful tongue of his speaking of prayers and soft little blasphemies in the sweetness of your maidenhood. 

— You’re burning, little princess. 

You hoped it’s the poison working. 

For a second, he placed his hand on your forehead and caressed it softly, accessing your temperature. For a second, the cold of his hands made you nuzzle into his palm like a cat that was fed nothing but the finest pieces of meat by the hand that was ready to skin it for its skin. For a second, you hoped that his embrace alone would be enough to kill you. 

If you die, which you must do, you wish it would be with his hands holding you softly. 

— A virgin fewer? I thought you’d know what we’re going to do by now, little prin…

— Don’t stop be from dying. 

You let go of those words before you could claim your silence. 

König’s hands are grasping you immediately, a finger lays in your mouth, making you gag – you open your lips from instinct, no matter how much you want to stop him from ever entering your mouth. He is weirdly smooth with you, the other hand going to grab your waist and press you on the bed – like you ever had a chance to stand against him and run away. Like he didn’t have a row of guards just outside the door. 

— Dying? Scheisse, dumme What did you do? 

He quickly grasped your tongue, the traces of the flower still lingered on your teeth, on the further corners of your mouth – you didn’t know if you had to spit it out or eat it whole, and you didn’t want to guess in the matters of death and loss of dignity. You gag on his fingers as he laughs – an unusual sound. First, the smiles and happiness in his voice, the rings and chains he put you in, and now laugh? Perhaps you died already, and this is your eternal damnation. 

— Let go of me! You have no…

— Were you still so scared, Liebling? 

— I wasn’t…what do you mean, Your Highness? 

The title is good, the title puts some distance between you and him. Only imaginary – he is still as close as possible, hands on your body, wiping the traces of the flowers on the silk sheets and holding you in his embrace again, as tight as he possibly can. You feel ill, you feel hot, every time he puts his hands on you, you can feel your core throbbing, the poison making you dizzy and dumb. 

You almost feel like begging him to touch you again – and again, and again. König, for one, can’t wait to watch. 

— I wonder where you got it. Such a clever Katzen, ja? Eating aphrodisiacs before her wedding night, like I would just mount you like an animal without preparing my wife? 

He laughs and laughs, hand in your hair, petting you gently like you truly were a cat. You’re dumbfounded, the fewer makes everything make less and less sense. You close your eyes, you open your eyes – you feel him on you. Looking, watching, observing, you want him to stop, and you want him to rip away those stupid garments and touch you, as he did in that dim hallway, to push his masterful, sinful tongue down your folds and treat you like a…

You whimper as you fell on the sheets, truly embracing the cat in-heat stance you were for the last few minutes. You roll on the sheets, smooth silk makes your core cool just a bit, the pressure only building with each time you try to hump the sheets, not caring anymore if you were behaving like an animal. 

Perhaps, the Knight’s maiden really wanted to make everything easier for you – just in her own way. 

— Wh…what have you done to me? 

He is bracing his hands between your legs, lingering touches on the wetness of your garments, making you both shiver in anticipation. He is forcing his tongue on you, the immediate pressure making you meow from the sensation. You hate it, you hate it, you have to hate it because if you don’t, then what the hell are you even doing. It’s too much and too little, it does nothing to relief the warmth between your legs, only making you wetter with each stroke of his wide, warm tongue. — I haven’t done anything, little princess. You just want me. 

— I would never want you. 

— I can stop. 

You snap your legs around his neck before he can withdraw his face. 

König is laughing, the sheer adorableness of your expression making him want you even more. You look perfect, so lost in desire for him – gods, he just wanted to devour you, to strip you of all you worth and make you his just as much as he is yours. But simply pleasing you with his tongue won’t ever be enough for this night – he had waited for so long, too long, disgustingly long, he had to have you in every way possible. If he won’t consummate the marriage today, he might as well just die. 

Other night, he will make you beg – plead for him to give you his cock, push the throbbing member in your trembling folds, snap the pleasure from your hands and force you to accept being his wife. The other night, he could wait and tease you for as long as possible. The other night…

He doesn’t have the patience for this night – he can’t even kiss you now, the mere feeling of your trembling lips would snap him beyond repair. It’s unfair to you, little princess, his desire is too much for someone like you to take – alas, he has to have you. Alas, he will have you, one way or the other, even if he’d have to push your pretty head into the pillows and force his manhood between your folds. 

But you plead for him, the desire in your eyes, mixed with fear and anticipation, is enough for him to laugh again, his hand squeezing your chest. You look divine, absolutely – you would look even better when properly bred, tits full of milk, and belly swollen with his little soldiers. Emperor never thought of getting an offspring, always knew his fate was to fall into obscurity with the country he created, but you have wide hips, a soft belly, and warm hands – all the requirements of a mother. But you have the submissiveness of a pet and the wit of a wife. 

But he can’t wait to push his seed into you – with a groan, before you could even lay your eyes on his cock, he is already forcing it in, ravaging all the resistance you once had. 

The plant made you warm, aroused, and wet enough to be dripping when he first pushed his cockhead between your glistening folds. You cry, the feeling of being intruded, ravaged, bot entirely painful, but now very pleasant either, is nothing you were expecting of the first night with your husband. You were expecting screaming, pools of blood, half of your organs falling out from the newly made hole between your legs. 

You just feel…intruded. The knot in your stomach is as tight as ever, even as König gives you a few minutes to adjust, the outline of his manhood throbbing in your tummy. You don’t even want to look at him, and he allows you to drift into a trance, the aphrodisiac you took doing all the job of preparation for him. 

He is feeling you, raw and sensitive, your maidenhood is dripping down your thighs and his cock as he wasn’t exactly gentle – he will be the next night, and the night after, and after, he will promise to take care of you, little princess, but this night is about taking what belongs to him – and he will never allow you to keep your dignity when you can simply be his dumb, adorable wife. 

— You’re so…heavens, princess, you’re strangling me. 

He laughs, struggling to push in and out, his hand finding its place on your folds, playing and tugging with your swollen little clit. The bud is wet, no matter the pain you’re experiencing – the drug won’t allow you to stop wanting it, wanting him, König knows it’s not genuine, he has to work to make you this aroused, but for now, it will work. He doesn’t want you to feel pain – and he will make sure you’re able to take him. 

— Too much, it’s…stop, wait, I am…

— You can take it, Schatzi. 

— I can’t! — You will. 

You whimper under him, you cry under him, he only continues to move, tearing your loyalty to your kingdom with each harsh thrust. You came to this room wanting to die, but now you feel your hands wrapping around his neck, your hips buckling to meet his, to bring the overcoming pleasure like König isn’t the one to tear you apart – you feel raw, you feel tainted, the pleasure in your folds is nothing what you ever had before. 

You’re betraying yourself with each moan and each whimper – you find yourself begging for him, the tears of yours is not just from pain anymore. He kisses you, rough lips on your mouth, making sure you’re as prepared for him as he is, you want for him to stop, but you plead with him to continue. 

— Stop already…I…

— I only came twice, little princess. And you – trice. Doesn’t feel fair, ja? — ‘s not, I can’t take it anymore…

— I will breed you, Schatzen. Until you’re swollen with my sons. — It w…won’t be royal children…

— Ach, my blood is enough to make a dog royal. — But…

— I will breed you, little princess. You can stop pretending you don’t want it.

You’re not even sure at what orgasm you are already – you feel like he came already, the wetness in your cunt should be evident of his already breeding you quite a few times, but the time is a blur when every time you cum, your vision blurs and your brain becomes foggier and foggier. 

König knows you will look perfect, all thoughtless and swollen with his children – not now, maybe, with a few elixirs to enhance your ability to bear children, but he can’t wait till you’re done. You might not like it at first, princesses do tend to be just a bit dumb when it comes to their duties, but there is something in your eyes that is telling him you’re going to bring him sons just like a good girl you are. Just like he expects you to do, your pretty tummy all swollen, and your body is barely handling the passion of his lovemaking. Gods, he knew you would be worth it. Even if, to his knowledge, you’re not a princess at all.

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

DP X DC WRITING PROMPT #10

(#) = Notes at end of post

TW: mentions of human experimentation and blood

✦

The Sapphire Stone Sits Highest on the Throne

The GIW have done the unthinkable. They've captured Phantom, King of the Infinite Realms and ruler of all who reside within it. The government organization tortured and experimented on Danny so much and for so long that Danny was forced to recede into his core. While a ghost's core is relatively strong by itself --only another ghost of similar strength could shatter it-- it's also extremely vulnerable to misuse if left in the wrong hands.

The GIW use the King's core to ravage Amity Park --uncaring if human citizens got in their way-- as well as the Ghost Zone itself. The Ancients combine their efforts to search for the lost, little king, desperately trying to find Danny's core and take it back from the blood and ectoplasm stained hands of the agents. As a result of their dogged search, the Ancients bring worldwide destruction down upon the Earth in their hunt for every single white suit agent remaining, scurrying from one hiding place to another like rats in the walls of a dilapidated house.

One by one, almost every agent was hunted down and bound in unbreakable chains of ice, awaiting their trials for the atrocities they committed against the Infinite Realms and its King. The only one left is the leader of the organization itself, the one who holds Danny's core. The leader, however, is extremely slippery and has managed to evade capture for months now, going so far as to throw their own men to the wolves if it meant an easy escape with the jewel-blue heart of a scared, grieving, and injured child.

At this point though, the Ancients have caused so much destruction and natural disasters, that the Justice League has no choice but to step in. At first, the JL actively try to fight the Ancients, not fully understanding the situation but having little luck in actually hitting any of them regardless. It isn't until John Constantine runs onto the battlefield like a bat out of hell and skids to a stop right smack dab in the middle of the fight that things change. He's out of breath, his hair is in disarray, he smells heavily of smoke and alcohol, and that's definitely a still fresh coffee stain on his weather beaten trenchcoat along with red blood painting his knuckles.

Normally, one small human wouldn't be able to stop the wrath of the Ancients when they've set their sights on something. This instance, however, was very different. As Constantine raised his hands up towards the rampaging Ancients about to unleash their fury on the JL, one thing managed to capture every single one of their attention.

That being the weakly glowing, sapphire-like core held in one of Constantine's outstretched hands(1 & 2) and the faint, echoing cries of a child begging the Ancients to put an end to the carnage they've unleashed upon the world.

✦

Notes:

(1) Constantine gives little explanation on how he got his hands on Danny's core. Little do the JL know, it was just pure, dumb luck. He ran into the leader of the GIW right as the bastard was leaving a coffee shop. Coffee got spilled all over Constantine and, being slightly drunk off his ass, he decides to deck the person in the pretentious white suit and knocks him out in one shot. Constantine's about to walk away when he hears a child crying. He finds Danny's core in one of the downed guy's pockets and has a panic attack when he immediately realizes what it is. Danny explains what's going on and Constantine books it towards where he can sense a large amount of necrotic energy gathering. The rest is history.

(2) ALSO, sapphire is a pretty significant gem. According to the internet, the sapphire symbolizes wisdom, royalty, prophecy and divine favour. It's a symbol of power and strength, but also of kindness and wise judgement. Which just fits Danny PERFECTLY in this prompt, imo.

[sweet-caress-of-twilight]

Disney Animated Canon Dashboard Simulator

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

How do I look?

🦌 a-life-in-the-woods Follow

mid

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

That's why your mom is dead

🦌 a-life-in-the-woods Follow

ik you're not talking when your uncle killed your dad 💀be so fr rn

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

moots you have 24 hours to unfollow a-l*fe-in-t*e-w**ds

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

geez, wanna buy some vowels?

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

how dare you say we piss on the poor

#classism tw

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

I'm not classist, my best pal is a street rat

🐭 rescue-aid-society-official Follow

Actually, we prefer the term "mouse" - Bernard

🧞‍♂️ phenomenal-cosmic-power Follow

I don't believe it, another "piss on the poor" moment? I'm not even talking about you dawg 💀

⚡️ b01t Follow

...

🥖 one-jump-ahead Follow

actually I wouldn't mind being pissed on

🌺 jasmine-like-the-flower Follow

AYO?

📖 milo-thatch Follow

#aladdin horny heritage posts

💛 more-than-this-provincial-life Follow

h

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

I SHOWED YOU MY COCK IN DMS PLEASE RESPOND

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

I CAN'T BELIEVE I'VE BEEN BLOCKED BY BELLE ANYWAYS DNI IF YOU STAN THE BEAST

🕯 b3-0ur-gu3st Follow

#THE BEAST SWEEP

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

shut your goofy ass up before I melt you

😜 yaa-hoo-hoo-hooey Follow

Gawrsh, did someone mention me?

🐤 d0n4ld-duck Follow

hes not talking about you you big palooka

😜 yaa-hoo-hoo-hooey Follow

Actually, you're supposed to put an apostrophe in the word "he's"

🐤 d0n4ld-duck Follow

GAHHHHHHH WHAT'S THE BIG IDEA?

💚 theboywhowouldntgrowup Follow

adults are so annoying like go pay your taxes grandpa 🙄

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

You are a minor who knows nothing about the world. You are the ugly one here. I can make YOU shut up but I suggest you one thing. You don't want to deal with a devil like me.

🐊 tiktokcrok Follow

Hi

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

moots please tw crocodiles

💎 m4d4m-m3dus4 Follow

BOO

🏴‍☠️ theworldsmostfamouscrook Follow

THIS IS THE LAST STRAW MEDUSA!!!!!11 I'M BREAKING THE MUTUAL!!1111!!

🐚 p00r-unf0rtun4t3-s0u1s Follow

And this, my darlings, is why we don't put our triggers out in public

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

Hercules save me

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

Hercules

💜 m3g4r4 Follow

save me Hercules

💪 zer02hero Follow

Never fear, I'm on my way!

💪 roughly-the-size-of-a-barge Follow

Nice pfp bro

💪 zer02hero Follow

254.421.81.132

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

uhm,,,,this entire dashboard is rife with sin and degeneracy. Do you all have no shame?

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

fiwruehfiuerhgiuerhughgeuyrhg

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

Sorry that was Djali typing anyway OP literally tried to burn me at the stake for being Romani????

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

And I would do it again to cleanse the world of your wickedness! You flaunt your heresy and expect us to applaud?

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

how about you keep that energy when you look in the mirror? cause last i checked, your obsession with me wasn’t exactly “holy”

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

You dare speak to me of obsession? I shall have you blocked and reported from this webbed site!

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

lol ok

🛐 a-righteous-man Follow

DO NOT SPEAK TO ME THAT WAY! YOU SHALL ANSWER TO DIVINE JUDGMENT!

🐐 esme-and-djali Follow

frollo got termed lmao sucks to suck

🔥 officialhades Follow

that sucks, i was gonna invite him to my place for a BBQ

🔮 th3-gre4t-and-powerful Follow Why do I always wake up to the chaos of this dashboard? I need coffee and Kuzco's head on a platter.

🦙 realemperorkuzco Follow

tf is u doing ur really killing my groove here :(

🔮 th3-gre4t-and-powerful Follow

Get off of my dash.

🦙 realemperorkuzco Follow

u havent blocked me tho

🎢 pull-teh-lever Follow Uh, Yzma, are we still making spinach puffs for dinner? Asking for a friend.

🩶 bear-nessities Follow

Hi guys, this is my first post here! Good vibes only!

📖 milo-thatch Follow

Unfortunately, there appears to be a spelling error in your username. It is supposed to be "necessities."

🩶 bear-nessities Follow

🤓🤓🤓🤓

🏄🏾‍♀️ 0hana-means-family Follow

Guys, I have a theory: I think Baloo and Little John are the same person. I mean, have we ever seen them online at the same time?

🦊 stealfr0mtehrich Follow

You know, Little John did get termed recently....

🦊 g00dby3-may-seem-4ever Follow

Nice pfp

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Thanks, I stole it from you

#oodelally

😴 br1arr0se Follow

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

Um this is extremely offensive to people who have been put under sleeping spells??????

🍎 myprincecame Follow

Excuse me, Simba, but Aurora has been putting under a sleeping spell, as have I. Please don't spread negativity here :(

🍎 myprincecame Follow

plsushthepostistreu - Sleepy

🦁 a-mighty-king Follow

you know that by being sleepy, you're appropriating the culture of those who have been put under sleeping spells?????

🥖 one-jump-ahead Follow

so...just fuck being tired, I guess?

🍎 myprincecame Follow

Please no profanity on my posts, Aladdin :(

🎩 un81rthd4y Follow

anyone in this thread smoke weed

[eldritch-spouse]

I'm leaning shakily against my weapon. I'm bruised, bloodied, and my clothes are in shambles. The once disgraced King of Wrath is cackling at his victory, he steps towards me.

“Go fuck yourself” is the last the last thing I say before I collapse.

TW: Mild gore; Implied noncon.

He's in his own Heaven.

A disgustingly depraved Eden painted in tones of coppery crimson and the distinct stench of viscera. His "angels" swarm the arena, loyalists roaring for the valiant comeback of their righteous King, and the fools who had been swayed aside get torn asunder, as they should be.

The screaming, animal-like wailing, the zip of claws on flesh and splatter of guts on the ground and the woosh of weapons swinging- This is music. A symphony, Kalymir's flawless melody filling the skies of Wrath as things are set right anew. Even so, even so empowered by the rage and adrenaline permeating the air like a thick coat- All Kaly really listens to is your erratic, bubbling breaths. The way your throat wheezes and scratches in a desperate attempt to let your compressed lungs work. The whimpers you try so hard to mask.

You're a divine vision like this, mangled and undone on the ground, limbs twisted like a child's broken doll, caked in your own gore, broken. Completely and utterly physically broken. Keyword being physically. Even at death's doors, your spirit still rages on like the wildfire the demonlord has always known it to be. And at the same time some part of him is angry that you do not publically beg for his mercy, another one is much happier that Kalymir will get all the time in the world to find out what really makes you scream in terror.

The thought of it. Ohhh just the thought of dragging your worthless husk of a body to his mansion, your trail of blood painting the streets with his victory... Doing whatever he wants to your defeated self, healing you just enough for you to put up a mockery of a fight so he can prolong your punishment- Because you deserve it, you've been a bad little whore and you've caused him a lot of trouble...

Fuck, he's so hard he could cum with a mere brush.

Kalymir leans down to your level, a ruthless rictus upon his garish visage mocking you further as he listens to your pitiful attempt at upsetting him.

" AND WHY WOULD I DO THAT- " He starts, drooling as you start to pass out. " WHEN I CAN FUCK YOU NOW? YOU'LL MAKE A GREAT COCKSOCK. "

[cutegirl920]

So, I redesigned the main villain from Ghostbusters: Frozen Empire. Spoilers under the cut!

When Garraka first appeared on the screen, his entire body was covered in darkness and alongside the glowing blue eyes, I found his design intimidating and interesting. Unfortunately, he didn't stay in shadows for long as his true form is rather generic and lacks the cool (no pun intended) factor of his first appearance.

Thus, I set out to redesign him to regain that menacing shadowy appearance.

Design Notes

As you can tell, his body is made up entirely of darkness. His claws and the tips of his horns are covered in ice so they can add more contrast in the design (the base of the horns are also differently colored to have more variety in the color scheme and to indicate that they are removable) and to convey his ice powers.

I changed the horns up and added another pair to make for a more dynamic silhouette (OG's horns aren't that bad but they could be improved on IMO). I took inspiration from Fate/Grand Order's portrayal of the Babylonian goddess, Tiamat, and the Bull Headed Lyre of Ur for the horns' design.

He has no mouth so he doesn't do his ice breath; he does his ice bending with his hands.

His shadow body represents the rage and hatred that makes up Garraka. The horns only appear that way when they're attached to his head and when they removed, they are no longer covered in shadows.

Also, I came up with some lore for my redesigned Garraka. It's more of a reworking of his original lore with actual Sumerian mythology thrown in (TW for violence and death):

The son of Nergal, god of Death and king of the Underworld (Kur), and one of his wives, Mamitu, whose name amongst other things means frost, Garraka proved to be a powerful deity in his own right. Thanks to his divine heritage, Garraka is able to command spirits with his words and not even the most powerful ghostly beings could defy him. He also possessed the Death Chill, capable of inducing true fear in his opponents that freezes them alive. Yet, he is much weakened if his horns, a symbol of his heritage, were to be removed. Garraka was content to spend his eternal life in his native Kur but he willingly left Kur whenever he was summoned. One such summoning was from a king who wanted Garraka's help in conquering East and Center Asia. Garraka obliged, mercilessly freezing over nations. The King witnessed Garraka's power and began fearing him. Once he established his kingdom, the King came up with a plan. He planned a festival in Garraka's honor as a way of thanking him and Garraka showed up. While Garraka was distracted eating the meals offered to him, the King brought his strongest warriors and with some rope that they tied around his horns, they ripped them off his head.

Pained and weakened, Garraka realized that he was betrayed. Even without the horns, he was still strong, and he was upset that he was betrayed; betrayed by mortals none the less! A species far inferior than him yet had the sheer audacity to deceive a god and attempt to strip him of his power. Filled with rage, darkness consumed his body and he killed every single mortal attending the festival, including the King, and set out to bring upon the next Ice Age, freezing the entire Earth and wiping humanity out.

The god of fire, Gibil, caught wind of Garraka's plans. Naturally, fire won't thrive in a world of ice, so he sought out a way to stop Garraka. He blessed his followers with the gift to command flames with their finger tips and ordered them to stop Garraka. His followers would become known as the Firemasters, precursors to the Ghostbusters, and they successfully thrawted Garraka, using fire and brass to combat his deathly ice and trapping him within a special orb designed by Gibil. The Firemasters and their descendants then dedicated their lives to protecting the orb so Garraka will never escape whilst dealing with other spirits. As millennia past, they began dying out and by the modern day, a modern descendant, unaware of his heritage, found the orb containing Garraka and not knowing any better, he sells it to a retired Ghostbuster's supernatural oddities store. Little did he know that he was contributing to Garraka's freedom...

[stay-midnight]

Unreleased Draft #3 • Heart to Heart

King of Hearts! Felix x Royal Gardener! Reader

Synopsis from what I can remember • The king is quite angry because of a certain someone, but noticed an unfamiliar worker in the garden and therefore demands the guard to bring him here to sate his curiosity.

A/N • This is in the bottom of my drafts, constructed sometime in Feb of 2021 which I was in like 4 months of writing I think? 😭 This was my planned valentine special but I had a hard time during that time to make world build this cuz I'm only slightly familiar with Alice in Wonderland but extremely fascinated by so I tried making an AiW inspired fic but genderbent, as you can see instead of Alice, the name said was Alister! TWs - mention of execution and oh its really short again 😭

Author Ratings:

Plot/Creativity - 8.5/10, higher than Divine Amusement cuz I actually wanna see how it unfolds in a way and Felix being a dictator seems like an interesting idea for some reason?!?!?! I can imagine him saying "Off with their head" in his deep voice also I just love Alice in wonderland themes so yeah! Writing Skill / Style: Despite being the oldest draft it's surprisingly good 5.5/10 (honestly much better than Snowswept Tails imo but st has a better thought of plot overall though). Writeability - 8/10 would defo want to write this and my imagination could handle it ig! Just needs a little bit research on Alice in Wonderland.

Your body shook in shock as you almost dropped the glass watering can due to the king’s angry roar being heard around the castle, “Just another normal day...” you murmur, continuing watering the plants and the dandelions.

While inside the castle’s meeting room:

“For fuck’s sake! All I ask is that stupid Alister’s head served in a silver platter!” he shouted angrily as the knight’s lips quivered, trying to find the right words to say. “If he is not fucking here tied up and ready to be executed by next Saturday then one of you will take his place you hear me?!” Felix warned dangerously in his deep voice

The knights all fixed their posture and bowed. “Yes, your majesty!” they said in unison, leaving as they were dismissed by a seething king.

Back in the royal garden:

You wonder what got the king so heated up this early morning, you said humming in curiousity as you finished watering the last batch. You sighed, slowly walking towards the gardening shed and as you were looking around, you noticed someone standing on the east balcony of the castle. You took a closer look and squint your eyes hoping to see the silhouette properly.

White hair with a faintly red streaks and royal robes could it be—

You blink twice and saw that it was indeed King Lee Felix, you flinched as you saw him stare back at you, at this you bowed and instantly run to the shed, spouting curses because that was dangerous.

It was dangerous enough to be at the presence of him, but locking eyes with him? Bad luck will run around you since that was what the King is, dangerous and powerful, a living source of bad luck due to a snap of his fingers will get you sent straight to the guillotine.

You grumbled hopelessly, a bit scared, hopefully he forgot...

.

At the sight of the man running, Felix scrunched his eyebrows,

‘‘Who was that?’’

He commanded a guard to bring him who’s in charge of taking care of the garden today. The guard instantly fixed his slouched posture and nodded repeatedly, “O-Of course, your Majesty..” he bowed before running somewhere.

He deemed the male quite interesting.

.

[vintagetvstars]

Carol Cleveland Vs. Nichelle Nichols

Propaganda

Carol Cleveland - (Monty Python's Flying Circus) - another hilarious comedy lady without whom python would 100% not have worked

Nichelle Nichols - (Star Trek) - She speaks for herself. Legendary, iconic, at the forefront of feminism and civil rights in the 60s, she is a triple threat who did so much more. She volunteered from 1977 to promote recruitment diversity within NASA, including some of the first female and ethnic minority astronauts. Martin Luther King Jr. compared her work on Star Trek as a 'vital role model' to the civil rights marches. She refused to be dismissed, fought for visibility and shone whilst doing so. As a woman in stem, and simply a woman she means the world and stars above to me.

Master Poll List of the Hot Vintage TV Ladies Bracket

Additional propaganda below the cut

Carol Cleveland:

TW: 3rd pic is a little NSFW probably don't view this at work

Nichelle Nichols:

She is the original badass babe. She was a black woman in a leading role on TV in the 60s, a trailblazer for black actresses for years to come. She is so beautiful and so awesome.

she's fantastic. have you seen her? paved the way for black actresses on TV even while her lines and scenes were being cut and improvised the most iconic uhura line in the series. (sulu: "I'll save you, fair maiden!" uhura, pushing him away: "sorry, neither!") she's incredibly talented and it's a crime the show didn't give her more screen time (or make her sing more often because she also has a beautiful voice!)

“Sorry, neither” in response to “fair maiden” was ad libbed by her. There’s a lot more I could say but what else do you need??

A sci-fi icon!

She was such a trailblazer, and Uhura was such an important character for so many people to be able to see on TV. Apparently Mae Jemison (the first African American woman to go into space) cited her as a reason she wanted to become an astronaut. She was just an absolute legend!

The story of Martin Luther King telling her not to quit Star Trek gives me chills. Representation matters. “Thank you so much, Dr. King. I’m really going to miss my co-stars.” Dr. King's smile, Nichols recalled, vanished from his face. "He said, 'What are you talking about?'" the actress explained. "I told him. He said, 'You cannot,' and so help me, this man practically repeated verbatim what Gene said. He said, 'Don’t you see what this man is doing, who has written this? This is the future. He has established us as we should be seen. 300 years from now, we are here. We are marching. And this is the first step. When we see you, we see ourselves, and we see ourselves as intelligent and beautiful and proud.' He goes on and I’m looking at him and my knees are buckling. I said, 'I…, I…' And he said, 'You turn on your television and the news comes on and you see us marching and peaceful, you see the peaceful civil disobedience, and you see the dogs and see the fire hoses, and we all know they cannot destroy us because we are there in the 23rd Century.'"

She shared the first interracial kiss on Star Trek, helped propel real life African American women into space-related careers, and looks divine in a mini skirt.

HOW DID UHURA WALK BACKWARDS SO FAR??? WOW!

[ofallthingsnasty]

tw excessive violence, reader is gn but kinda masc coded

When it turns out you're Doflamingo's soulmate, he is beyond angry. Not someone equal to his standing, not a lesser noble, not someone with even a smidge of power - no. Just you, a peasant. With an unassuming face, hands that have seen many a day of hard work but never blood, you’re entirely useless to him. Oh, he wants to strangle you with that red string that connects you, wants to kill you for the audacity of being born into nothing but dreck (and he could, he thinks, he could. Not with the red but the gossamer one that springs from each fingertip). He feels like he needs to watch the blood pearl through the skin of your throat just to spite fate who brought a pig to his altar instead of another king.

But he doesn’t. For some strange reason, he doesn’t. Maybe it’s curiosity, maybe it’s the way you take his kicks so well when he shoves you to the floor and crushes your windpipe with a lacquered shoe, it doesn’t matter. He spares your life and simply takes you with him, not able to look at you for weeks after. Now he can see how foolish he was back then, now he knows what a blessing you actually are, how he let his emotions cloud his judgment.

You were made for him. The only thing in this world that is truly and entirely bound to him - blood can betray him, chosen family can run far and wide and return with sharpened knives to thank him for his years of help, but you - you can’t even lift a finger to paw at the hand that chokes you. You can only take, take, take - take the hits, the beatings, the violence, the frustration. You’re so utterly and devastatingly perfect for him that he wouldn’t be surprised if you grew back a limb he cut off in another fit rage. His loyal dog, cowering by his side, his whipping boy, shouldering all of his frustrations, you’re everything all at once.

Fate has been brutal to him, more so than to anyone else - to fall from living godhood right into obscurity, into the dust he had to rise from again, all because of the stupidity of his own father. But it also gave him a piece of divinity back, made him the only god you’ll ever know in your life, a cruel roundelay you’ll have to dance, dance, dance until the day you drop dead.

[sadly-in-active]

Can you write some hcs of Affogato Cookie x Clotted Cream Cookie?

Ofc honey (I’m so tired and I need this boost of creativity and confidence)

AffoClotted hcs

Summary: After making a secret alliance with the Créme Republic’s very own Consul, he now stays within Clotted Cream Cookie’s mansion. The two get a bit closer then expected. Hell, Affogato Cookie thought that this would give him an advantage to have a personal relationship with the Consul…but then he got attached as well and shit took a turn.

TW: Why is all of this just bickering, these idiots need to get a room and make out, too much tension for their own good, swearing, failed manipulation because Affogato is actually pathetic now, Clotted Cream gets internalized homophobia and hates it, Dark Cacao tries to abuse both (and fails)

Also personal hc that Affogato is pansexual and transmasc, and Clotted Cream is bi but fails to hide it

Whores istg /j (This was the thing I use to start all my drafts)

—

So, after Clotted Cream finds a completely vulnerable and pathetic ex-royal advisor, he knew that one, Affogato could be using this little alliance as a way to regain power, or two, he was actually really interested in living with the Consul and actually having a house again. Yeah, Clotted Cream realized that it was both.

During the meeting when Clotted Cream was first introduced to the Ancients, Affogato was with him, yet…preferred to stay on the airship for a bit longer. He actually had to be pried off of it by Financier because he was still genuinely nervous about seeing Dark Cacao and getting even more of a punishment because he showed his face to the King.

Luckily, when Dark Cacao saw Affogato, the oh-so heroic Consul shielded Affogato (begrudgingly, but he couldn’t show that) from any threats that the King of the Black Citadel wanted to enact on the ex-advisor. And don’t worry, Clotted Cream also defended Affogato’s sorry ass! Y’know the drill, saying that he was “reformed” and trying to become better under the eyes of the Divines! (Yeah, like Affogato believed in that dumb light stuff. Clotted Cream was also kinda coming up with stuff on the spot, but he managed to maintain that cool and composed demeanor for most of the time.)

I kinda forgot what else happened in the Cookie Odyssey so let’s actually get onto the silly ship part of it!

—

Clotted Cream practically begged Affogato to sleep in the guest room, but our dear little ex-advisor merely shook his head and had that bastard grin of his. So yeah, they were sharing a bed the entire time. Totally normal, I know. They were roommates after all… 😘

They bicker…a lot. Usually, Clotted is tryna settle the situation down, but as soon as Affogato says some kind of petty insult and has that TOTALLY charming rolled eyes, expect the ex-advisor to be picked up by Clotted Cream’s coat belts and practically thrown onto the guest bed. Awh, so sad… 😞 But don’t worry, because Affo sneaks back into the Consul’s room anyways and snuggles up to him. After all, keep your friends close, but your enemies closer~ (they HAVE to make out)

Clotted Cream is probably good at flirting (probably.) but when he’s around Affogato and the teasing cocky bitch whispers some kind of flirty joke, he can’t help but feel REALLY flustered, even though he tries his best not to show it, he’s really a nervous wreck.

The Consul gets a bunch of internalized homophobia, probably due to Elder Custard being a bitch and super toxic. Especially with the idea that an esteemed politician like him would be following all the rules and stuff about this kind of thing…

Affogato already saw the look on his face. Ah yes, that look of “Wait, is this right or am I just a fool?” kind of look. During one time when Clotted Cream had that look again while filling out paperwork on his desk, Affogato creeped up behind, took the Consul’s chin, and gently but teasingly pressed his lips against Clotted’s for a second, before smirking proudly.

“Well? Are you still getting those…frankly boring and negative thoughts, or are you too shocked by me?”

Clotted never said anything in that moment, his eyes wide and a deep blush appearing on his face. In that moment…well, I think he probably forgot, since it all happened so quick. But Affogato definitely remembered it. Of course he could recall the way the Consul pulled him closer, tugging on his hair and letting out a few breathy sighs as he did so.

…well, they certainly got a room, didn’t they?

[james-vi-stan-blog]

to your knowledge, did King James ever abuse George in some way? I’ve seen people throw that word around

tw abuse, child abuse, coercion, violence against animals and stuff

It depends on what you mean by abuse. If you consider a severely power-differentiated relationship abuse, then the whole thing is abusive, but also every interpersonal relationship in the 17th century is abusive.

I don’t know of any reported instance of James hitting George, nor of overt sexual coercion (though we know very little about their bedroom life, such as it is possible for historians to argue that they never had sex, although this is a minority view now). James was VERY into marrying off his courtiers, including his favorites, and when George married Katherine, while James still expected George to be constantly at his side, he encouraged them to go at it and make babies. Most of James’s favorites seem to have transitioned out of sleeping with him, and he remained very affectionate with them. Also, remember how James called Carr not wanting to sleep with him “a mere unkindness”? He was hurt, and I read those words as being whiny and guilt trip-y, but it’s not like he was demanding constant service. (Also, many historians think George was probably not having sex with James towards the end of James’s reign simply because James was very sick. Yet this is the period of James’s most intensely romantic letters.)

James, we should remember, hated violence (at least between humans) and had trauma over being shouted at. This doesn’t mean he would never perpetuate it. He did have a temper (nothing like Henry VIII levels though). He led armies, personally oversaw torture, sentenced people to brutal death, etc. — although in this period these would be seen as just actions that a moral king should do, protecting his people against criminals and outlaws. James was popularly criticized for being too soft.

There is an oft-repeated story about him trying to strike a teenage Henry Frederick with his cane during a hunt. This would have been considered acceptable discipline for a father to mete on his son, if “justified” by bad behavior. However, Henry Frederick simply rode off and most of the hunting party went with him, signaling that the prince was more popular than the king and James was not considered justified in this case. (Though, I heard this story told once where HENRY FREDERICK is the one who tried to hit JAMES.)

James and George did argue with raised voices, James publically snubbed George during problem periods of their relationship, but I don’t know that these would really be “abuse” rather than conflict. There is the aspect of the power differential, where George has to grovel and apologize to get James to forgive him, because James was the king. However, James very readily gave his forgiveness (and not just to George, he was generally very eager to forgive any of his friends or favorites for anything if they promised him their love).

Robert Carr DID yell at James, and the main thrust of James’s extremely long feelingsdump letter to him was that he felt hurt and betrayed that Carr wanted to “hold him by awe” (fear) “rather than by love”. So James felt Carr was controlling him by threats and angry outbursts, which James resented, saying that he would do anything for Carr for love, but if he felt he was being taken for granted and Carr was bullying him, that that love would swiftly turn to hate.

(Of course, we must remember that James was a divine right king, so we should be suspicious of his characterization of Carr’s behavior. When James is this massively entitled, such that he genuinely thinks it is a religious sin to resist his will, is he correctly perceiving this situation? Is he overreacting to a relatively modest drawing of boundaries by Carr? I’m inclined to think James genuinely felt betrayed and Carr really was yelling at him and scaring him, but we can’t fully trust James’s perspective.)

So, the short answer is, I don’t know of any instance between James and George that is unambiguously abuse, although of course their whole relationship is colored by power and manipulation. But I’m not a historian or biographer or anything. I’m just a James enjoyer, constantly learning new things, so there could have been an instance somewhere, I simply haven’t learned of it yet.

In the Mary & George trailer, there’s an instance of James wiping George’s face with blood, but this is not from violence against humans; this is a ritual of the deer hunt, where the leader of the hunt (James) marks his companions with the fresh blood of the kill. So this is an act of favor and weird homoerotic intimacy rather than violence towards George.

[corvuschriisti]

into a white & soundless place.

!!! (tw for bone breaking, mutilation) !!!

You would have thought death would feel different.

Technically speaking, it's not your body that's dying, is it? You've established that this realm is not yours, correct? If Reyson was not real, if Python and Diarmuid and Harken were not real -- then you surely cannot be either. Then why does everything feel so...

It starts off as a game. Forsyth looks filled with rage and you can tell that he knows; somehow, the green knight has divined that you were indeed the one to smother Python in his sleep. To be there with his last breath.

Yarne looks between you and you also know that he's trying. He's just a boy -- and you wonder: did you look like that when you were just a nestling, too?

Through doors and crooked alleyways you all cram your bodies against stone and rot and vines and shadows. You hold onto Byleth's hand and find a familiar warmth, it comes not from the professor but from that which radiates above you.

He glows. He is cold indifference, the way a god might look down upon its worshippers. You do not know if you have even knelt at Reyson's alter, but you do know that you have found salvation between the strands of gold, the spaces between fingers. It is not yours to keep -- fleeting creature that you are: your place of worship is wrought with lies and filth and betrayal.

( It is not the memories of Harken's murder. Of Diarmuid's beheading. It's the memory of turning to Reyson, eyes wet with something that's not-quite tears, a desperate reaching out -- the words "I love you" spoken for the first time ever... that is what distracts you. )

And it snaps. Snap, crunch, break. There is a space on a bird's bones that hinges right near the fold, where the humerus meets the radius and ulna, that crushes.

You're usually so much more careful. Oh, stupid, stupid, hated thing.

It sets off a ripple effect, cracking to the first digit. The pain you feel in your body is more than anything you've ever experienced. And still:

"Reyson..."

It's aimless. You've lost Forsyth and Yarne, and you are slowed through thin, suffocating tunnels. You cannot fly with a broken wing. So, you reach.

( Because he is a bright light. He is everything you wish you could be. He is a home, even if he lost his own. He is where you want to settle your weary head. )

If you cannot be like the hawk king, then you cannot be worthy of a heron. And you will never, ever be like the hawk king.

You reach, and suddenly you are him. You are something divine and holy once again, much like you were in the fight. You can feel his hatred burn you from the inside out, and you wonder if this is your punishment.

If anyone should get to close your eyes forever, it should be Reyson. And thusly: he does.

[stardustprompts]

before the devil breaks you  (  book 3 of the diviners series  )  -   libby bray  sentence starters change tenses/pronouns as needed !!  some lines have been edited for clarity / length / ease of roleplaying   tw ;  death ,  violence 

‘the last thing we need is a panic. panic breeds danger.’

‘i’ve never pretended I wasn’t looking out for myself.’

‘we’ve got bigger fish to fry. bigger than you and me. can we agree on that?’

‘I hate to say it, but you’re making sense.’

‘what do you care? it’s not like you want me, right?’

‘incredible. you actually worked up a little angry spit in the corner of your mouth right there.’

‘i’d rather have you on my side than against me.’

‘I know what it is to lose someone. but when they’re gone, they’re gone. we learn to live without them. to let go. to move forward.’

‘i’m just not accustomed to trusting people.’

‘you know there’s a ghost after you, don’t you?’

‘don’t lose hope. you anchor me. if you lose hope, well, I might, too.’

‘rules exist for a reason. even within disobedience, we need order.’

‘I am my own person. and I wish you could see me, the true me.’

‘I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know what you’d think of me.’

‘not a day goes by that I don’t regret that choice.’

‘do you think I’m selfish?’

‘oh, I see. It only counts if everyone knows about it.’

‘don’t you get enough attention?’

‘if this kills me I’ll never forgive you.’

‘when did you develop a conscience?’

‘I hate having a conscience. very inconvenient.’

‘you can’t bring back what’s gone.’

‘you said you wanted the truth. well truth is complicated.’

‘it’s the truth. ignore it at your peril.’

‘it feels like there’s this hole in the center of me, and I keep trying to fill it but I don’t know how. like there’s a part of me that’s just been erased.’

‘I got no story. i’m making it up as I go along.’

‘i’m glad I’m part of your story.’

‘it was honest. that’s how much I love you.’

‘you wanna be real friends or pretend friends?’

‘from this day forward, you are a ghost to me. I don’t even see you.’

‘are you saying that to give me to heebie - jeebies? because if you are, it’s working.’

‘expect the worst is my motto. saves on disappointment.’

‘that’s how you behave like a human. take notes so you can remember.’

‘do you think some places just hold onto evil? that you can’t paint it or wash it away? it lives on, no matter what you build on top?’

‘I don’t know if I want to kiss you or kill you.’

‘I love you. I want to save us both. come with me.’

‘i’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you to stay. I can’t expect you to risk your life for me.’

‘I don’t like basements. nothing good happens in basements.’

‘you’re sad and you’re lying about it.’

‘everybody lies. it’s how we get along in this world.’

‘I don’t talk about sad things.’

‘you’re not wicked. somebody is, but it’s not you.’

‘I thought you didn’t want to be with me.’

‘does that mean you do want to be with me?’

‘where’d you learn to do that? I wanna send that person a thank-you note.’

‘why be a man when you can be a king?’

‘do you imagine you can rid yourself of me? you have created me!’

‘will you always have to steal what you want?’

‘perhaps you enjoy going through life invisible, though I suspect you yearn for much more.’

‘where does power lie? in wealth? in titles?’

‘it’s so hard to know what the truth is. it shifts, depending on who’s telling it and when.’

‘that is a lie you tell yourself so you can sleep at night!’

‘stop telling me what I have a right to feel and start telling me the truth!’

‘there are choices you make, things you do, that you don’t know are wrong when you do them. only time gives you that perspective.’

‘I hate you for what you’ve done. i’ll hate you till my dying day!’

‘i’m so angry. so, so angry. I want to punch at the world and keep punching, but what good would it do?’

‘I think I’ve been clear. you and I are over. it’s been over for some time.’

‘you know what? when I said you could never hurt me, I was wrong.’

‘if it’s coming for one of us, then it’s coming for all of us.’

‘you don’t know what it’s like to take another man’s life. it changes you. you can’t ever get yourself back, not the same way.’

‘I believe in this right here. I got you. you got me. we got us.’

‘sometimes I think maybe I would like to burn it all down. start over. make different rules for the world.’

‘you can’t stop evil. you can only push back as hard as you can.’

‘I adore you. the truth is, i’d be lost without you.’

‘I know what a toll thinking takes on you.’

‘why do you have to ruin everything?’

‘I don’t know if I want to be touched in that way. I don’t know if my love is a physical love.’

‘the question is this: haven’t you been hurt enough?’

‘I was trying to protect you.’

‘I knew you’d come after me. I knew you’d try to make it right.’

‘you’re gonna make a fine mother / father someday.’

‘they say that those who don’t heed the lessons of the past are doomed to repeat them.’

‘you thought telling them the truth would make a difference. now they just hate you for telling them the truth.’

‘people want to be safe, not free.’

‘it feels as if nothing matters. truth, honor, trying to do what’s right. none of it matters.’

‘I just need something that doesn’t feel like a lie.’

‘i’m not perfect. i’m a handful. but you know what? so are you.’

‘what if I love you and you go away?’

‘I want you to hurt. I want to see you suffer. like you made me suffer.’

‘now you’re just trying to annoy me.’

‘it felt like the time for gallant speechifying. I rose to the moment rather well, I think.’

‘I won’t let you do this.’

‘no one listens to reason. they only pay attention to force.’

‘what you’re doing isn’t change. not the kind that matters. it’s anarchy. it’s terror.’

‘I don’t know everything, but I do know this—- bombs and guns and threats—- won’t make for a better world. just a more frightened and angry one.’

‘sometimes it feels like … like the world has given up on me.’

‘I should have stopped her. I should have done something,’

‘soon I will take all you love and watch you burn.’

‘you don’t know the fire you play with.’

[cheerscoops]

Golden Hour

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Eddie Munson

Summary: Inspired by this fanart by @divine-draws - a lazy, sleepy morning for Steve and Eddie

CW/TW: n/a, this is pure fluff

Word Count: 1K

Author's Note: requested by @thefreakymunson <3

Light shone through the blinds that Steve had neglected to close the night before bathing his room in the soft glow of the early morning light. As he slowly came to, he was made aware of the arm wrapped around him. He had gone to sleep with Eddie snuggled up to him as the little spoon, but at some point in the middle of the night, the metalhead had rolled over and buried his face in his chest. Not that Steve was complaining about it. He’d never complain about being close to Eddie.

If you had told King Steve that one day he’d be falling for the freak of Hawkins High, he would have told you that you were crazy. Then again, he would have said the same thing if you’d told him that the Upside Down existed, and yet, both things were true.

After the “earthquake,” Steve’s parents had decided that they were moving out of Hawkins for good. They left the house for Steve only because they knew they’d lose money trying to sell it. He didn’t exactly love the house. It had always felt so empty and lonely to him. But, they’d needed a place to hide Eddie during his recovery while he was waiting for them to find a way to clear his name. Steve’s big, empty house seemed like the perfect place, and Eddie’s presence made the house seem a little less lonely.

Somewhere between helping to nurse Eddie back to health and the government pinning the murders on Victor Creel, their harmless flirting had grown into actual feelings and self-discovery, and even when it was safe for Eddie to move out, neither of them wanted it to happen.

They still kept seperate bedrooms for the moments where they wanted some privacy, but they spent most nights together. Sometimes, it was for more carnal desires, but other nights like the night before were for comfort. Just knowing that there was someone else there made sleeping easier, and Steve had far fewer nightmares when he was holding Eddie in his arms.

Steve had slept through the night without a single nightmare, so he was in a particularly good mood that morning. He tightened his grip and pulled Eddie a little closer as he pressed a kiss to the top of his head. This was his favorite place. Outside of his house, he couldn’t be as affectionate with Eddie as he wanted to be. He couldn’t put a label on whatever it was they were or show him off the way he would have with any of the girls he’d dated in the past. But safe within the four walls of his bedroom, he could show Eddie just how much he truly meant to him with the single soothing motion of his fingers gently tracing up and down his back.

“Too early,” Eddie groaned as he snuggled deeper into Steve’s chest. “Go back to sleep.”

“You say that every morning.”

“And every morning, I’m right.”

This was the game they played most days. Eddie complained about being woken up to see just how much affection he could weasel out of Steve, and Steve was happy to give it. They had both been so touch-starved before their relationship started that every lingering touch left them reeling. Now, it took a little bit more to get each other worked up, and each touch was more meaningful. Steve could show that he loved Eddie without having to say the words that he was so afraid to put out there.

“Do you really want to go back to sleep?” Steve asked. The hand that was rubbing Eddie’s back moved upwards to tangle into his hair as he started to massage the back of his head. “Because I think you’d much rather stay awake with me.”

Where Steve hated anyone touching his hair, Eddie was the exact opposite. All Steve had to do was wrap one of Eddie’s curls around his finger, and the man was putty in his hands. When Steve was feeling especially nice like he was that morning, he’d thread his fingers through Eddie’s hair and take his time gently scratching at his scalp. It was pure bliss, and Steve relished in the look that always graced Eddie’s face at the touch.

“You sure about that?” Eddie replied with a contented sigh. “Because you know how relaxing I find this. I could fall back asleep at any moment.”

“Maybe I just think you deserve a little extra affection.”

“Maybe I’ll let you give it to me.”

Eddie adjusted the way that he was laying against Steve so that he could rest his chin on the other man’s chest and look up at him.

“You’re too far away,” Steve pouted as he circled his arms around Eddie.

“I am quite literally laying on top of you. I couldn’t be closer if I tried.”

“I can’t reach your lips from there.”

“Why should I kiss you? You won’t let me sleep,” Eddie teased. He was only prolonging the inevitable. He couldn’t resist when Steve got needy. Partially because there were times where he found it hard to believe that any of this was real. Times where he couldn’t fathom that he was actually in Steve’s bed or that he was wanted there. Needed even. So his wandering hands and kisses kept him physically in the moment. Helped him to believe that the affection was real and wasn’t disappearing anytime soon.

“How about this? You come up here and give me a real kiss, and we can sleep for at least another hour,” Steve suggested.

“Two hours?”

“Okay. Two hours.”

“That I can agree to.”

Eddie shuffled his way up to capture Steve’s lips in a sweet kiss. He pulled away almost too quickly before rolling Steve over slightly to be his little spoon.

“Such a tease,” Steve laughed. “That was barely a kiss.”

Eddie playfully bit Steve’s shoulder as he draped his arm over Steve’s waist, their legs tangling together instantly.

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” Eddie promised. “In two hours. After I sleep.”

“I’m holding you to that.”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

And so the two fell back asleep wrapped up in each other’s embrace feeling the love between them even without having to say the words.