#✞. in character. ➛ deceiver of the damned.

[inafieldofdaisies]

(WIP) Music Monday / The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.

What's worse, being wanted but not loved Or loved but not wanted? What's worse, hearin' what you wanna hear Or hearin' what's honest? Our love's misaligned 'Cause you're on my mind every night I ignore the signs And I don't know why 'Cause, baby, I saw the end when we began You couldn't love the way I can I tried to bargain with the stars For more than half your heart But you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand And I have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand

one could argue if this goes harder for Mer or Jacob, since she's so difficult to pin down

We are looking up to the sky, searching for a reason why We are holding onto our hope, blinded by the smoke But we're coming in like a hurricane Heads down in the pouring rain We'll fight till doomsday When the world's in ashes Lost to all the havoc Raise our swords, and fight till doomsday When the earth is severed We will not surrender In this war, we'll fight till doomsday

I wake in the night all alone in my head Lost all focus Left me breathless Blinded by the light Twin flames, two hearts Can burn out in any second And twin flames, two hearts Can implode, live in the embers Twin flames, two hearts on fire We're burning together We burn We're burning together

I chase the high I beat you at your game There's no place to hide There only is one way I'll bleed you dry This is my domain

Tagging, @socially-awkward-skeleton @josephseedismyfather @quantum-lover @direwombat @corvosattano @strangefable @thesingularityseries @the-silver-chronicles @adelaidedrubman @wrathfulrook @clicheantagonist @nightbloodbix @jillvalentinesday @madparadoxum @onehornedbeast @g0dspeeed @shegetsburned @aceghosts @voidika @theelderhazelnut @unholymilf @trench-rot @josephslittledeputy @dumbassdep and anyone that would like to share some songs this week 🤍

[holyfated]

@fiorserpen

THE SCOWL ON GITA'S FACE SEEMED PERMANENT . she should be happier upon meeting a demon , but this one was unlike the many she had encountered . [ they seemed too human . ] a sigh , one out of habit than in need , & the necromancer would motion to the desk that separated them . --- ❝ here to strike a deal ? ❞

[sh1-n0bu]

♡︎ 𝙗𝙖𝙗𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖 ♡︎

characters: priest!sub!blade x demon lord!nb!dom!reader

warnings: breeding, creampie, eating out, fingering, squirting, monsterfucking, non-verbal ask of consent, dirty talk, feminization (like literally), lactating, nipple stimulation, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size kink, belly bulge, cervix kissing, blade is a demon hunting priest, reader is a demon lord so they can choose whether to have a cock or pussy so basically genderfluid reader???? also reader changes blade’s anatomy to have a pussy and womb — it’s so messy okay😭😭

word count: 4.4K

notes: you KNOW shit is getting real when nobu starts word count. never thought i would be writing a bit of a dark-ish content yet here we are. the power of the horny😔 also inspired by my chat with one of ririshizu’s bots

special thank you to @theblades and @yenaakwyl for proofreading a whole damn 14 pages of filth

being a priest is no laughing matter. especially when you’re the type of priest that hunts and gets rid of demons who somehow ended up with a demon lord clinging to you, who’s constantly at your side, asking you questions about the human realm.

what was up with you, anyways? a literal demon lord, one of the lords of a deadly sin and yet here you were, dragging him around the streets, pointing at random things, wanting to sample every street food there were. sure, your human form was incredibly deceiving. a short, sweet human, clinging to his arm, excitedly pointing at the many different things that caught your attention. it would be hard for anyone to think of you as a demon lord in disguise.

except for blade. he’s been in this field of work for such a long time. constantly vanquishing demons who either were too annoying or possessed a poor, curious soul. the sharp edge of his shard sword is no laughing matter.

but you didn’t seem to mind. this demon lord, acting like a curious puppy, pulling him to each sides of the streets — ignoring the loud angry shouts of the car drivers and the constantly thinning of his wallet of course. not that blade had much to worry when it came to financial freedom. putting his life on the line and vanquishing demons from the human realm pays a generous amount.

it felt wrong to allow you to cling to him. you, a demon lord, no matter what your disguises meant or whatever pathetic excuse you came up with of wanting to sample human food. he should have gotten rid of you sooner yet no matter how much his hands twitch to unsheathe his shard sword, he just can’t seem to do it. no matter what his threats may seem or be heard of, the priest just can’t bring himself to harm you. if anything, he finds himself doing the absolute opposite, to his blatant horror.

“wait, no, don’t do that. the water just boiled so it’s hot, it could burn your tongue”

“you do realize that ice isn’t meant to be eaten, right? no, i don’t care how much of a pretty shape it’s in or if it still has the aftertaste of the coffee”

“if you eat too much raw red pepper, you could have a heart stroke. 14 is enough on one sitting. give it here”

yes, you get the point. a priest vanquishing demon, living together with a demon lord and even protecting them. hypocritical, right?

one night, as you two were cuddling on the couch and absentmindedly watching cliche horror movies that has demons with red skin and horns and a tail, that reminded something to blade. demons have unique demon forms depending on their sins and ‘birth’. but you never once showed an ounce of your demon form. not even a single slip-up.

“hmm? why do you ask? curious?” you hum softly, taking another fistful of the popcorn in the bowl. not that blade minded. if anything, he unconsciously pushed the bowl of popcorn closer to you.

“i guess so. you never even spoke of your demon form whether it has a tail or not” the priest mumbles, his husky voice turning softer just for a moment. or maybe he was just sleepy, judging by his dark eye-bags and little yawns.

oh right, you never did. but then again, blade never asked of your demon form before so, it’s to be expected after all.

just as blade had shrugged off your silence and turned his attention back to the tv, he felt something slithering around his waist. swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, he briefly looks down at what was wrapping around his waist. there, snug around his hips was a long, pale white, scaled, snake-like tail. it seemed incredibly long, judging by how it easily wrapped around his hips few times and the rest was just dangling off of the side of the couch.

was this…?

he could feel his hand twitch. itching, something under his skin itching of wanting to reach down and run his hand over the smooth looking scales of the tail.

pat! pat pat!

before blade could even make sense of what the fuck he just did, his hand had unconsciously unraveled from it’s former crossed position. one hand going down, flattening his palm over the smooth, large tail before giving it a few pats. at the same time, he could hear another low pat pat! sounds coming from the side of the couch. must be your tail ends flicking and hitting against the couch, he deducted.

briefly, blade steals a glance at your face. still watching the movie on the TV, seemingly paying no mind to the feeling of his human hand resting over your tail. it was oddly warm to the touch. from the look of it resembling a snake like tail, he expected it to be cold.

slowly, he runs his hand over the scales. soft, smooth and easily gliding over them as if it was nothing. sure, some bumps are felt on the palm of his hand but other than the occasional little ridges, it was completely smooth. how… soothing.

blade doesn’t know how or when but over the course of time you spent at his apartment, these little moments of playing with your tail had become a normal occurrence. little moments of “affection” if you will. fridays had become the weekly movie nights. blade would put on some random horror movie that you chose to be the most interesting based on the summary of the movie. half an hour or so into the movie and blade would feel the familiar scales of your tail wrap around his hips.

the priest would sometimes toy with your tail in hopes of getting you to show your true color of being a demon lord. to make you angry. to make you snap and finally show your true colors. if anything, it had the complete opposite effect as your tail only tightened around him. low, deep rumbling sounds akin to a purr coming from the depths of your chest.

briefly, the priest would catch himself wondering how it would feel to lay his head on your chest as you purr. cats have de-stressing and soothing qualities to their purrs. would demons be the same? sometimes, he would even catch himself thinking of… sacrilegious things. like how your tail would feel wrapped around his legs, opening him up for you. how your form could shapeshift and could have a human male’s anatomy. would you purposefully make it big? would you force it past his twitching rim, uncaring of his whines and pleads to wait?

ah, but that sounded so unlike you. despite being a demon lord, you have been nothing but calm and peaceful with blade. soft hums, nods of agreement, always needing his help and inquiring him of his thoughts on something.

then, would you coax him? whispering soft reassurances in the shell of his ear as you softly push your cock inch by inch inside him. a large, clawed, inhuman hand running over his stomach, talking about all sorts of things, promising to breed him full of your seeds as he cries. opening his legs wide with your tail wrapped around his thighs, wiping away his tears as he cries so prettily?

“f-fuck…” unknowingly, blade found himself with a little problem. another movie night, another time spent together ‘cuddling’. yet due to his own thoughts, blade finds himself embarrassingly hard. shit, he needed to find a way to leave the room and take care of his problem. but your tail way starting to curl around him in loops, just like how a snake would wrap itself around it’s prey.

did you know? know of his raging hard on and was just teasing him now? no. taking a brief glance at your face caused blade to come to a conclusion that you didn’t know. yet. that was the biggest part. or maybe you did considering just how your tail was moving around his waist. slipping under the hem of his shirt, slipping up, curling around his body under his shirt. scale coming in contact with skin. blade almost let out a moan at the feeling if it weren’t for him biting down on his lips.

“[n-name], get your tail off. i need to use the bathroom” internally cursing himself out for stuttering, blade can only hope that you would oblige. gods, just the way you let out a soft “hmm?” while playing innocent, smiling at him and blinking like nothing happened while your tail curls around his skin.

fuck, he was done for. you knew. you fucking knew.

“are you sure? your body seems to react positively from the amount of human interaction that i’ve had until now, blade” the end of your tail circles around his peck. slowly trailing the end as if you were going to squeeze—

“n-ngaah?!” a surprised noise comes from the priest’s mouth before he clenches his jaws shut, brows furrowing together as he tries to ignore the feeling on his chest. soft and slow circles. the end of your tail was wrapped around his nipple, pulling and rolling it between as if it was nothing. shit, when did his chest get so sensitive?

“oh that was a cute sound. do it again” you hum, turning away from the TV and looking at him now. curse you for looking so damn interested and curious as your tail fondles his nubs. blade can feel his pants starting to form a wet patch as his breathing becomes more labored.

“t-take… your goddamn tail off. i swear, i’ll ghh—! chop it into pieces…!” despite his best efforts, his words had no bite. just weak mumblings of a pathetic excuse of a priest being turned on as a literal demon lord tugs at his nipple. he was even starting to quietly whine in place as he tries to swallow down his moans.

“say, blade. i read from somewhere that human chest can lactate when stimulated enough. can you lactate?” blade almost shrieked at your words. lactating? him? while it was true that human women can lactate if they gave birth, he was unsure about men being able to lactate.

“n-no! can’t! i’m a man, it’s impossible for my chest to produce mi—ungh!” his words die quickly in his throat when your tail clenched around his nipple tightly. pulling on it, familiar to a pinching motion. since when did his body get so sensitive like this? or was this all your doing? did you secretly put a spell on him to make him sensitive?

“stop..! [n-name] stop ooungh! please, stop! i’m telling you, i’m a man. i can’t lactate like a woman!” his pleads fall on deaf ears as you slip his shirt off over his head. instead this time, using your hands to knead and fondle his pecks. squeezing, rolling his sensitive nubs between your fingers, even tugging on them. it all got blade letting out uncharacteristic high pitched noises like a cat in heat.

“p-please… stop this, [name]..” blade trails off, red in the face, shame, embarrassment and arousal swirling in his stomach like a hot bubbling lava as he admits defeat and whines helplessly.

“then wriggle yourself out of my tail. it’s loose around you, bladie” you briefly retort as you suckle on his nipple. mouth latched to his chest, biting and planting wet kisses all around his soft pink areola. as weak as his whimpers and pathetic his begging were, he really wasn’t making a single attempt to pull back. you have given him enough chances even now as your tail stays loose around him. yet he still tries to act like he hates it.

switching between giving attention to his two nipples with blade not even thinking of pulling himself out of your tail, the movie plays in the background, long forgotten. you were determined to make this weird human of yours lactate. you can make him!

it didn’t took much longer until blade let out a yelp as a warm liquid drops in your mouth. the taste oddly sweet and a bit thick in texture. realizing that his chest was feeling much more heavier and nipples felt more wetter than before, the priest’s eyes widen in horror and arousal. did you really managed to stimulate him enough to make him lactate?

“oh? so, i was right! humans can lactate regardless of their gender” you let out a soft giggle, internally cheering as a bright smile comes across your face. the sheer amount of exuberance you showed in his lactation had caused blade to feebly attempt to cover his chest.

“don’t! don’t look… it’s embarrassing…” the man whines, shaking hands covering up his leaking nubs. but that proves to be futile as his hands covering his chest had caused him to twitch. everything felt so much and so little at the same time. his poor cock was neglected and weeping, staining his pants as you stimulate his nipples as he whines.

this wasn’t supposed to happen! he wasn’t supposed to be this sensitive to your touches.

but the leaking of his milk had seemed to cause something to stir in your chest. an odd sense of possessiveness and need to claim him growing in your heart, tugging at it. laying your palm flat against his stomach, you rub slow circles onto it. somehow, it had helped to lessen blade’s embarrassment.

“bladie, how would you feel if i were to make you my baby momma?” your voice cuts him out of the trance like state he was in. blinking his eyes a few times with a weak “huh?” as if he hadn’t heard you. with a quiet chuckle, you ask again. repeating the question to him slowly in case he was too pleasure driven.

baby momma? but that’s something that people refer to when women get pregnant right? were you referring to making him pregnant? but that was impossible! he was a man and men had different anatomy compared to women’s!

“i can use a few spells. you would have a female anatomy. but only if you wish to be my baby momma. i would take good care of you and the kids, we’d be together as a cute family. don’t you think we’d be a cute family, blade?” he could briefly hear you hum. but the rest of your words flew over his head since the female anatomy part.

a female anatomy. blade would have a pussy, a womb, cervix the perfect anatomy to get pregnant. he would be a cute baby momma. your baby momma. and he would carry your kids. a child who was half you and half him, a cute bundle of sunshine.

“please… please do. make me your baby momma. i wanna be your b-baby momma..!” blade nods frantically, not even bothering to think over the consequences too deeply. but the prospect of having your kids, of having you inside him got blade rubbing his thighs together, head spinning with all sorts of thoughts as his breathing becomes labored. you said you would take good care of him and the kids! he’ll be in good hands.

although a part of his brain was screaming at him, telling him to withdraw from the touch of your palm running over his stomach, changing his insides, blade could only sit there dumbly. a baby. a cute baby that you two made together. it would be so sweet, so cute. blade couldn’t wait any longer as he silences the logical part of his brain. all he wanted was you now. just you and nothing else.

the process didn’t take long. a few strokes of your hand and soothing whispers to his ear and it was done. or at least, from what you said. and oh fuck, was it true. when you tugged his pants and boxers off, what greeted both of your eyes was a slick pussy, dripping with arousal. seeing how you had successfully changed him, the priest lets out a weak whine, closing his legs to hide himself.

you didn’t seem to like that. clicking your teeth as your tail wraps around his leg, pulling his legs apart and allowing your hungry eyes to feast on his dripping cunt. blade couldn’t help his whine as the feeling of being so empty took place in his head. or was it inside his womb that he felt so empty?

“so sweet. you would look so cute with my cum dripping out of you” you mutter, running a finger up his wet pussy. the action got his hips twitching, trying to make you push your finger inside himself. tutting softly, reminding him to be patient, you slowly ease a finger in. oh gods, the stretch felt so good. so full and filled already despite it being just a single finger that was now slowly massaging his plush walls.

the soft whines and gasps coming out of blade turns into a moan as he throws his head back on the couch. long, navy hair spreading over the mattress as your fingers scissor him open. you would have expected him to be more… reclusive considering his usual act. perhaps you were wrong. the way that blade was throwing his head back, moaning without shame as his warm walls suck your fingers in greedily caused you to almost mistaken him for a virgin. or maybe he was just touch starved. poor thing.

cooing words of how he was doing good, how his gushy cunt was sucking in your fingers so prettily, you lean down to pepper kisses on his clit. long, forked tongue coming out momentarily to slip inside him with your fingers, constantly flicking his clit. the action caused to have made him oversensitive. strong, scarred thighs coming up to wrap around your head, a hand fisting at your locks as loud, pathetic whines of “c-can’t! feelss sho weird! [n-name], can’t—gyuuck! aanh aah♡︎!!” trails off into a high pitched whines as his hips jerk. legs clamping around your head in a vice grip, fisting at your locks tightly as his back arches off of the couch so prettily as he squirts in your mouth. ah right, in your own haze, you’ve forgotten and accidentally pushed your tongue in too far, hitting his g-spot.

well, that was fine. the cold priest sounded so cute and tasted delicious as he twitches under you. it would be fine to fuck him open with your tongue and prepare him thoroughly.

blade doesn’t know what to think anymore. was he even able to think? all he could do was to moan and shriek, trashing about on the bed as something deep and long slithers inside him. his cunt was being fucked open, wet sounds coming out as he gushes all over your mouth, tongue and chin. fluids dribbling down to your chin as you continue to force his legs open with your tail, arms wrapped around his waist and pulling him back into your mouth and fingers.

by the time you thought of him as prepped enough and pull your tongue and fingers out, blade could only weakly whine at the feeling of something pulling out of his warm insides. legs shaking, face flushed as dried tear stains cover his cheeks. his pretty red eyes looked so hazy, mind filled with cotton and statics. you haven’t even gotten to the main part yet!

blade feels something wrap around him. something bigger, warmer and gentle. clawed hands wrapping around his slender waist, pulling him against a massive frame. was this… was he on your real form right now?

tilting his head back to look at you, his hunch proves to be correct. no longer were you in your small human disguise. large, pale white figure with horns, tail and claw holding him in a safe cocoon in it’s embrace. despite having deep hatred against your kin, the priest couldn’t bring himself to hate you. instead, he oddly found your real form beautiful.

“huh…?” his thought gets cut off short when he feels something poke at his entrance. looking down, a sharp gasp escapes him. by the gods were you huge. girthy and long, thick with need and ready to fill him to the brim with your seeds. blade wasn’t sure if he could take such a large thing inside himself as he instinctively shut his legs close.

almost as if sensing his inner worries, you place a hand over his stomach, other hand spreading his legs wider to make it easier for you to slip in.

“don’t worry, pet. i’ll make sure it fits” your deeper, almost inhuman voice hums right beside his ear, sending shivers down his spine. although your words were soothing, the large tip of your cock pushing past his walls, opening his cunt wider was definitely not comforting. fuck, just the tip inside and blade was already thrashing about, shaking his head and stuttering out how he can’t fit it inside him.

“w-wait! w-won’t hhgh fit! ish too big! too bigtoobigtoobig—! m-my lo—oough! aanh! ish t-too fu-uck! big♡︎♡︎” the human squeals, cries, sobs and moans. loud lecherous noises coming from both his mouth and cunt. wet noises flooding the room alongside the low grunts and deep growls. you sounded inhumane, you felt inhumane but blade loved it all the more. the priest loved being spread open by your large cock, pushing past his hole, feeling his plushy walls and insides. ah, he could die happily filled to the brim like this.

finally, after long minutes of slowly easing yourself inside, you managed to fit your cock inside him. snug to the brim, tip kissing his cervix and making blade squeal. legs shaking and twitching, he came on your cock again at the feeling of your tip kissing his cervix. he saw that you were big but not this big! gods, he felt so damn full.

“so pretty, my mate. so full of me and i haven’t even fucked you properly yet” you grunt, deep, inhumane voice breathing by his ear and making him shake and twitch in your grasp like a sweet fawn. blade wouldn’t mind being a sacrificial lamb to you.

through tear stained eyes and blurry vision, he could make out the faint outline of your cock in his stomach. you were too big to the point your were causing a bulge inside him by just slipping your cock inside. how full would he feel after you have properly made him a baby momma? cunt weeping out a mixture of your cum, belly bulging so cutely. just the imagination of such action made blade buck his hips weakly. too fucked out to even utter a word.

feeling the pathetic excuse of movement of your cock, you let out a low laugh. tail wrapped around one of his legs, the other held open by your hand as you finally bounce him on your cock. slowly, slipping yourself in and out and yet the priest in your hand was sobbing as he blabbers deliriously about being fucked dumb on your cock. of having your babies inside his own womb. of being your sweet mate.

blade was a big guy. in human terms and physique wise, he was big. and yet in your lap, held open by your hands, back to your chest as he allows himself to be dumbed down on your girth made blade realize just how damn small he was compared to you. sure, he was big in human terms but compared to you, he was absolutely nothing. just a small hole for you to use. a fleshlight to be filled with your cum until you were satisfied. your baby momma to have his chest fondled and squeezed until his chest grows sore and heavy. milk leaking out it small globs from his sensitive pink nipples.

“my pet. my cute mate. my sweet other half. my adorable breeding bitch uhng… so fucking tight. so warm and tight like the cute little thing you are” blade could briefly hear you groan, heavy breaths falling on his neck, making him shiver at each breaths. making him cry and moan in a shrill voice like a girl each time your cock slid inside him. plunging deeper into parts he never knew before, grazing that one soft spot that made him shriek, tip hitting his cervix at each thrust. blade was so sure that it was bruised now. not that he minded it, the pain felt good to him.

“y-yours—! yours yours yours! your c-cute ma—aaanhg! aaanh haagh gyaaamf♡︎ y-your mate. your oouungh other half. y-your adorable♡︎ breeding bitch—!” blade’s mouth fell open in a silent scream, head throwing back to your shoulder when he felt your hand press on the bulge in his stomach. it felt good. so good that he immediately squirted on your cock again at the sheer pleasure the pressure brought.

but of course you wouldn’t stop. you would keep going, forcing his small body to bounce on your cock, occasionally tweaking his nipples, rolling his clit between your fingers. you were damn adamant on making him pregnant, breed him until you were damn sure he was knocked up.

he was yours. your human. your mate. your fated other half. your cute breeding bitch and you would be damned all over again if he ends up not getting pregnant by the time you’re done. blade was yours. no one else would ever take him away from you. no one. no one no one no one, no one else—

“AAANGH! M-MY LORD♡︎ c-cock giick! sho full…” the human shrieks and twitches in your grasp, legs weakly thrashing around as you finally cum deep inside him. the warmth of your seed spurting inside his gummy walls, painting his insides white causing blade to cum again. blade felt so full, the skin of his stomach stretching a bit to accommodate to the great amount of cum that was inside him. it felt so warm and sticky. messy, as it dribbles down your shaft, his small human body unfit to keep it all inside himself.

“my cute mate…” you purr softly, arms wrapping around your mate as he twitches and shakes. cheeks stained with old and new tears, jaws slack with drool dribbling down with his face as red as his eyes. he was yours now. blade was your human now. the weird priest was yours and no one would ever take him away from you.

“mine” with that final declaration, you placed a soft kiss to the crown of his head. he seemed to relax at the kiss, sinking against your chest as he black out. that was fine. you’ll make sure to breed him again once he wakes up.

[oxenfreeao3]

I need Caitlyn “if I cannot become ungovernable I will become the government” Kiramman to have a full-on Machiavellian anti-hero arc so that The General Public finally takes her seriously.

Analysis:

I've mentioned it before, but Caitlyn's character embodies nearly all the traits of a Machiavellian with high cognitive empathy.

Firstly and most obviously, she manipulates systems and people to accomplish her goals. Vi would still be in Stillwater and much of Act II and III would not have happened if Caitlyn weren't willing to cleverly and unscrupulously lie and forge her way to success.

We can argue she's not a very good liar. I argue that doesn't really matter. One, her lies work. Two, she is clearly ready and willing to deceive so long as she thinks it's for a good reason. The inclination is what matters. I think the important question to ask is, "What is this character willing do to?"

Secondly, she's huge on agency. It's one of the main features of her character. She demonstrates (from the five-factor model): achievement-striving, assertiveness, self-confidence, emotional invulnerability, activity, and competence.

Regarding emotional invulnerability. I want to touch on this because I think it's missed. Caitlyn is an extremely guarded character. She reveals almost no personal information about herself, even to Vi. During high-stress situations, she flinches from her own vulnerability, tries to play it off, or compartmentalizes heavily.

Vi is the bleeding heart, the open book, the one who can't guard worth a damn (it's not even subtext, other characters say this to her face and I believe it has a dual meaning).

Meanwhile, Caitlyn waits until Vi is vulnerable with her and shows her respect before even giving Vi her name. (I have more to say about the "Cupcake" scene but that's for another time).

Other aspects of a Machiavellian character include:

Cynicism, selfishness, callousness, arrogance, deliberation and orderliness.

I argue that Caitlyn's character hints at the first one, gets away with the next three because she's "sweet," and blatantly embodies the last two.

Caitlyn in S1 is a sharp edge sheathed in kindness. We like what she's currently doing and think she's a Good Person because her trajectory aligns with our own sense of right and wrong. But Caitlyn is doing what she wants. What she thinks is right. Again, it's not subtext.

Marcus: "She does whatever she wants, I can't control her!"

And in S2, I think the same behaviors we currently love in her could easily be used to spin her down a corruption arc that leaves us a bit aghast -- but shouldn't leave us surprised.

I argue such an arc would be squarely in character.

Paraphrasing from the AMA:

"Everyone is a little bit opposite of who they are in Season One."

What will that mean for Caitlyn?

I don't know, but the recipe for a very interesting time is written all over her character.

[slytherinslut0]

hey can you please do tom x hufflepuff reader hcs??

Tom Riddle x Hufflepuff!Reader headcanons.

(A/N: idk how this ended up being so long. i got carried away. i love tom. i love his complexity. i could write about him forever. anyways, enjoy:))

tom riddle and a hufflepuff reader would be damn near polar opposites, and there are a few reasons why i say this->

tom is a very reserved man, yet undoubtedly driven by an ambitious and power-hungry nature, always seeking dominance and control in every aspect of his life.

hufflepuffs, on the other hand, are known for their kindness, their loyalty, prioritizing the well-being of others over personal ambition.

tom riddle is the type of man who is not afraid to deceive others for personal gain, while hufflepuffs value fairness and honesty in each of their interactions.

not to mention how tom is emotionally restrained, rarely displaying vulnerability or empathy, while hufflepuffs are known for being emotionally open and expressing genuine care/understanding for others.

i believe tom would be rather annoyed by hufflepuffs, perhaps even put off by their loud, outgoing nature, but i also feel as though he would respect them more than other houses because they are known for being more by-the-book.

i believe this pairing would be WONDERFUL for him, and i’d imagine it’d go a little like this->

perhaps you and tom would be involuntarily paired up for an assignment, an unlikely collaboration that tom figured would be an easy mark for him.

originally, he’d find himself irritated by your constant cheerful and optimistic nature; finding it rather absurd that you weren’t at all fazed by his cold, cunning attitude.

there’d definitely be initial clashes between the two of you, disagreements of methods, but tom would find himself stunned as you met every one of his suggestions with a positive, passionate attitude, not daring to get discouraged or frustrated with him.

your unwavering optimism would be shocking to him. especially in the face of his calculated cynicism. it’d be then, that tom would be astonished by your dedication and genuine passion for learning, a rare quality to obtain.

his initial cold, guarded demeanour would slowly begin to fade.

tom would find himself beginning to pay more attention to you, his curiosity extending to outside the confines of the classroom.

he’d begin to wonder if your genuine kindness is truly authentic or merely a manipulation tactic, leading him to question the sincerity of your character.

which he’d only question because that’s the way his mind works.

he’d never known someone so open and genuine like you. he’d convince himself you had ulterior motives.

however, tom would quickly observe that your authenticity extended universally, and was not just directed at him.

your small acts of kindness and interactions with strangers became evident, and he’d witness your unwavering positivity even in the most challenging situations.

he’d notice how thoughtful you are, how you’d spend your free time maintaining the Owlery, ensuring it’s well-kept and sanitary.

he’d watch you from a distance as you continually brought the owls food and water, giving them attention and love which was something you did upon your own accord, without expecting any compensation.

it became clear to him that you did these things because you genuinely loved to do them, not because you wanted praise for it. and at this, tom was completely taken aback.

your radiant smile, capable of lighting up any room, would become a revelation to him, leaving him puzzled about how he initially overlooked this aspect of your character for all those years.

it’d be here that inner turmoil would begin to brew within tom as he’d have no choice but to acknowledge your ability to see the good within everything and everyone, and especially within him. something not many people are capable of.

as time passed, you couldn't help but notice a gradual softening in him.

during your collaborative sessions on the assignment, he became more receptive to your ideas, actively seeking your thoughts.

surprisingly, he started engaging in conversations beyond the project, asking about your day and exhibiting small changes in his demeanour that were entirely new to you.

tom was breaking, his walls slowly being chipped away by your infectious smile and enthusiasm.

the unexplainable shift in his perspective both intrigued and unsettled him, as you became the catalyst for awakening emotions he never believed he could feel.

he’d try to fight back, he’d try to get himself together, but it was useless. you were in his head, and there was no getting you out.

however, given the fact that tom struggles with showing even the smallest amounts of vulnerability, he’d try to be as subtle as possible with his interest in you. hoping that you’d eventually catch on.

perhaps he’d begin with small gestures, like gifting you a book on rare and beautiful magical creatures, saying that he noticed it in the library and thought of you, believing you might like it.

it would not go unnoticed by you just how considerate this was, and just how much he’d begun to take awareness of your interests.

you found yourself engrossed in the book, a sight that never failed to bring a subtle smile to tom’s face whenever he spotted you across the hall.

observing you immersed in the pages made him quietly content, often requiring a conscious effort on his part to break himself free from the captivation.

his brain would be screaming, “what the hell am i doing?” but he wouldn’t be able to deny just how much he loved seeing you enthralled by the gift.

the feeling was intoxicating, and wholly unfamiliar; he needed more. he needed to do more.

perhaps the next move he’d make would be to gift you a rare enchanted plant, after having noted your love for herbology.

he’d present the plant to you in a subtle way, saying that he’d found it while taking a stroll through the forest and thought you’d like it.

he’d go into details about its properties, its rarity and how to effectively take care of it, even though he knew you already knew all of this.

he knew you absolutely loved the fact that he cared for these plants just as much as you did. this was all part of his plan.

and of course, at this point, you’d have the hunch that he was into you; but being as perceptive and intuitive as you are, you’d know that pestering tom or trying to force him to admit feelings would be useless.

the man moves at his own pace.

so instead, you’d invite him to join you as you cleaned the Owlery, wanting to spend more time with him. the two of you would gradually become closer and closer, tom’s harsh demeanour fading away with the wind with each passing day.

and even still, tom hardly made any advances. tom hardly wanted to put himself in a vulnerable position. he wanted to be sure you wanted him before he ever revealed his intentions.

if he was touchy with you, he’d never insinuate it was because he’s into you. he’d kiss you on the cheek after walking you back to your dorm for the night, and then act like nothing ever happened in the morning.

and this might have annoyed some, but not you.

you understood that this is how tom was, and you admired him for it. you were entirely understanding. you wanted him to open up on his own terms, and you were willing to wait for him.

eventually, tom knew he couldn’t hold back his feelings anymore. he knew he needed to make you his. he knew he’d do fucking anything.

and this feeling would only multiply as he spotted you across the courtyard, speaking to a boy from your house.

your smile was glowing, your laugh was radiating, and the feeling this sight inspired inside tom’s heart could have been enough to ignite the entire castle into pure fucking flame.

whatever he was doing at this moment didn’t matter anymore, he only had one objective in mind.

making you his.

without waiting for you to finish your conversation, he’d interrupt, stating he needed to speak to you.

you’d smile, sensing his urgency, and follow him over to the far side of the courtyard, looking out at the breathtaking view of the faraway valleys and mountains.

as soon as tom was content with your seclusion, he’d cup the back of your head and crash his lips to yours, kissing you with enough fervour to make up for all the days and weeks and months he’d wished he’d have made a proper move.

pulling back, he’d meet your eyes. “i need you to be mine,” he’d whisper, as though the words scared him. “you’ve made me feel things i’ve never known possible, you’ve broken me down without effort. you are the most beautiful, genuine woman i’ve ever met, and i have been falling in love with you for months…i can’t hide it anymore, i need you…”

the words would be music to your ears, the joy unfathomable.

of course, you’d be his.

[zoro-chwaan]

Oh my god. I know I promised that I was gonna post last week. But I got hella busy. I went to a Shrek rave which was fun. Also I am BEGGING, PLEASE ASK WHAT YOU WANT TO SEE FROM ME!! I’m planning on doing characters from shows sometime soon.

Word count: 1.6k (GOD DAMN)

Fem/fem aligned dni!

NSFW, content warning: weed, having sex while high, overstimulation, pet names, reader was called a slut like once (please let me know if I missed something)

•◦•◦────✦◦•✙•◦────✦◦•◦•

Stoner emo boy who loves to hot box the dorm room. You entered your shared dorm and was immediately hit with smell with weed. You looked to your left to see your new roomie laying his head back on the bean bag, holding a bong on his right hand and a lighter on the other. The LED lights changed to the color red.

You sighed and took off your coat and grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. After an hour of a hot shower, you got out and were about to change when you realized that you forgot a change of boxers… fuck. You quickly wrapped your towel around your waist and prayed that your roommate was asleep. You opened the door and if he was asleep.. well it doesn’t look like he’s up.

You quickly went to your closet and opened it to grab a pair of boxers. “Well aren’t you a bold one? Walking around the dorm room with just a towel. Were you like this with your old roomie?” You heard a raspy voice from behind you. It startled and slowly turned around, you see him eyeing you up and down. You apologized and tried to go back into the bathroom.

“Woah woah, where you going? I don’t mind the show.” He smirked and stood up. He made his way towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist. You tensed up which made him chuckle, his lips moving close to your ear. “Come on, let’s have some fun, yeah?” He whispered and blew air in your ear. You shoved him away and dashed to the bathroom and locked it.

꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚・

A couple of weeks has passed since the incident, he hasn’t really bothered you unless it was to ask for a spare pencil or if you wanted to smoke. He made sure to respect your boundaries and space, which you were thankful for.

One day you entered your dorm room to see him changing shirts. Your eyes widened and jaw dropped, he didn’t looked built with the shirts that he wears. But golly, can looks be deceiving. “You’re staring, Angel. State any longer and you might burn holes through me.” He chuckles. You looked at him, then turned around and apologized.

“Don’t worry about it, Angel. I think that was a fair trade from when I eyed you.” He spoke smoothly as he puts on another shirt. He told you that you could turn around now. You nodded and closed the door and made your way towards your desk. “So, how was class for you today?” He asked. You let out a loud groan of frustration, and replying with how the lecture itself wasn’t the issue, but the fact that your professor thought you should partner up with one other person.

You of course didn’t mind that, but he decided that he’d do a little ‘spin the wheel’ to partner you up. You ended with the class asshole who tries to slug his way through the project, that or sleep with the person who he’s partnered with. You sat down on the chair and you heard your roommate laughing loudly. You looked at him and glared. “Sorry, I just find it hilarious who you ended up with.” You laid your head back and sighed, agreeing with him.

.

Another week has passed and your project partner was being a jackass, not surprising. He tried to sedate you, and when you turned him down, he called you a bitch. He then left you alone to do the project all by yourself. You, turned it in and made your way to your dorm. You opened the door and entered then slammed the door shut. You made your way to your bed and flopped down on it.

“Well hello to you too.” Your roommate said. You groaned in response. After a while, you sat up and looked at him. Only to see him staring at you. “You okay, Angel?” He asked sitting down on the beanbag. You whined and told him the whole fiasco, as you slid down your bed onto the floor. He just nodded, as you both sat there silently. “Well I know a way to help you ease that stress.” He took out a joint. You shook your head and told him you don’t smoke.

“Then how about an edible? It would have the same effect as smoking, kinda.” You thought about it for a moment, then agreed. He smiled and stood up and grabbed his bag. He dug around in it for a bit, then pulled out a container the held brownies. He opened it and took one out and broke it in half. He walked up to you and handed to you, but before he did he warned you that it’ll take 5 to 10 minutes for it to hit and also said for you to be careful with it. You nodded and grabbed the brownie.

You looked at it, then looked at him. He made his way towards the beanbag and sat down. You contemplated for a bit, then you spoke up. You asked if he could get high with you. He chuckled and nodded, “Sure Angel, I wouldn’t mind.”

꒦︶꒷︶︶꒷꒦︶︶꒷꒦‧₊˚・

10 minutes has passed and you felt light. You feel relaxed and calm, happy and comfortable. You looked at your roommate and saw him smoking. He grabbed the LED lights control a few minutes ago and turned the colors red.

“How do you feel?” He asked you. You replied with saying how you felt thirsty. He chuckles and stood up and went to the fridge and pulled out a cold bottled water. He tossed it to you, but you failed to catch it. Only with it hitting your head and landing on the floor next to you. Your roommate cackled out loud, and you looked at him and laughed with him.

You grabbed the bottled water and opened it and took a sip. “Refreshing?” You nodded, and closed the bottle. You placed it next to you and you stared at your roommate once again. You smiled, then laid your head back onto your bed and closed your eyes. You both entered a comfortable silence. This felt nice, you could understand why people liked getting high. It’s a nice feeling. You opened your eyes and looked at the ceiling. Without realizing, you said that you’re still a virgin. A couple minutes passed, which left like an eternity, and you looked at your roommate.

He was looking at you with shock. You don’t what got over you, but you crawled towards him and laid your head on his lap. He tensed up, “Listen, you’re completely in cloud 9. I don’t want you to do anything that you’ll regret later. I think-“ You pressed your lips against his to shut him up. You closed your eyes as you continued to kiss him, you moved closer to him. You were about to pull away, when you felt his hands on your waist and his lips chasing yours.

.

.

.

♡

You covered your mouth with your hand to try to muffle the moans. “Nuh uh, don’t do that, Angel. Let me hear those pretty moans.” He whispered softly as he thrusts deeply into your cunt. He moved your hand that was once on your mouth and held it. He moved his head towards your neck and starts kissing it.

He continues to pound into you as moaned out his name, which in turn made him groan. He felt you tighten around him, and moved his head towards your ear and started to moan softly. “Fuck.. you feel so good.” He grabbed one of your thighs with his other hand and lifts it up. When he did, he hit a part the made you squirt around his cock.

“What a good boy, doing so well for me, my pretty slut. Taking me so well.” He thrusts deeper and faster into you, which made you whine. Tears falling down your face as your eyes rolled up. Not being able to think straight. He hums in satisfaction and continues to hit that spot.

He lets go of your hand and moves it down to your clit, he started rubbing it the same speed as his thrust. You moaned with a high pitched voice. “Oh that was a beautiful noise, Angel. Can you do it again”. He asked as he rubbed your clit faster. You shook your head as your back arched. “Awe come on, Angel. I know you can. You want to come again, don’t you?” He said seductively, you nodded and begged him. He stops thrusting, which made you whine at the loss of friction. You tried to move, only for him to pull out and turn you around. Making you lay on your stomach.

He lifted your hips up, and without hesitation slammed back into your cunt. You moaned loudly as his hand made his way to your clit once again. “I’m about to cum, Angel. Do you want it in or out?” His lips close to your ear. You begged that you want it in. He chuckled and pounds your hole faster as he rubs your clit. After a couple more deep thrusts, you both came.

He pulls out and grabs his shirt to clean you up, he then threw his shirt on the floor. He turns you around and lays next to you. “How do you feel, Angel?” He waited a couple minutes and was about to speak up only to hear soft snores. He chuckles softly and whispers, “I finally got you for myself.. my Angel”

[janearts]

I couldn't help myself from referencing Highlander. There can be only one [wielder of the Netherstones]!

Proper answer (and some character analysis for Roisia) under the read-more.

Roisia was surprised by Gortash, but pleasantly so. In the first place, as far as Roisia is concerned, Ketheric and Orin recall their respective gods in their appearance: Ketheric is withered, a husk of a person, but indomitable, and Orin... well, Orin looks like a flayed corpse with meat-suit clothes, but close enough. Roisia would have expected Bane's Chosen to be more... physically domineering. Terrifying. Intractable. ...Loud? Instead, here's this charming handsome fellow who is really rather ordinary. If Roisia met him on the street, he'd just be another debonair noble lusting for power. (Join the feckin' queue!)

And neither does Gortash behave as Roisia would have expected Bane's Chosen to behave. She would have expected a Banite to be a tyrant, a Faerûnian-version of the Machiavellian prince, who instils a terror of himself and who rules through fear. Instead, Gortash gently curates among the populace not a fear of him, but a xenophobic fear of The Outsider (whether that outsider is a cult like the Absolute or a group of people like the Coast's refugees).

Roisia—by all accounts an oppositional force to his own—encounters a man who is genuinely, fully, confidently willing to partner with her to achieve a common goal and is willing to swear a divine oath to secure that partnership...

Poor man. What a fool.

You see, Roisia is something of a Machiavellian prince. She would despise to think of herself in that way were she to read Il Principe, but she has within herself some (but not all!) of the traits and qualities that are described within. She is frequently a mirror: where she meets evil, she wields evil with aplomb. ("You desire me to kiss your foot? I think not. You shall kiss mine.") She would very much prefer to offer mercy, but if her mercy is rejected—like when Ketheric imprisons Dame Aylin once again before yeeting himself into the primordial soup—then she will dole out cruelty in equal measure. Most importantly of all, Roisia is a liar and a deceiver, all while appearing compassionate, guileless, and true to her word. Roisia only really keeps her word when it suits her purposes. Were she otherwise, she would have found that Gortash would have been faithful to his word to the last. But as the Machiavellian prince, she betrays and slays him.

Actually, having written all that, Roisia is more of an embodiment of the Machiavellian prince than I originally thought: she is virtuous and good, sure, but she is also intimately familiar with baser behaviours (lying, cruelty, conspiracy, etc.) and wields those base behaviours like a tool when and where she feels it is needed and necessary.

Which is why I was absolutely thrilled when I had her do what was only natural to her and had her speak to Gortash post-mortem. Roisia is a character who believes herself to be godless: damned and/or abandoned by Kelemvor, Lord of the Dead and Judge of the Damned, for being a Necromancer. She had a sliver of hope that she would find favour with Myrkul, but Myrkul thought only of the Chosen stolen from him. She thought, perhaps, that she might find favour with Bhaal because, let's face it, she had slaughtered and bloodied so many in her long journey to Baldur's Gate, but the skull only wept blood and that was that. Bane, however, actually speaks to her, acknowledges her, validates her. She won his favour the moment she betrayed and slayed Gortash. She is in her very nature a stellar Banite. Incredible! And absolutely absurd. Thank you to Larian for programming that opportunity in. 😂

[theemissuniverse]

NOOB SAIBOT AND VILLAIN!FEM!READER HATING ON MORTAL KOMBAT 11 CHARACTERS

SUMMARY : just what the title says. You are a powerful sorcerer from Earthrealm. You’re Bi-Han’s consort

WARNINGS : some is suggestive

MASTERLIST 1 , MASTERLIST 2

(Y/N) VS NOOB SAIBOT

Noob Saibot : You have a strange taste in allies

(Y/N) : Cassie is cool, Bi-Han. I’m not completely stone

Noob Saibot : I will never like a Cage

(Y/N) : People say you changed me

Noob Saibot : I made you stronger

(Y/N) : And for that I am bound to you

Noob Saibot : I’ve always known you were a great warrior

(Y/N) : Was it when I beat you at the tournament?

Noob Saibot : That is when I fell in love with you

Noob Saibot : A shadow feels nothing

(Y/N) : So you say

Noob Saibot : But for you - it is different

(Y/N) : You might have some competition, Bi-Han

Noob Saibot : I am not worried of a failed Empress

(Y/N) : I love a man so assured with himself

(Y/N) : You are the only one to see my potential

Noob Saibot : You were worthy of my teachings

(Y/N) : And I will forever be in debt to you

Noob Saibot : Raiden was a fool for not seeing you excel

(Y/N) : His foolishness led me to you

Noob Saibot : I should thank him

(Y/N) : That demon is getting on my nerves

Noob Saibot : There is no reason for jealousy - I care not for her

(Y/N) : Sareena’s soul will be mine

(Y/N) : Kuai Liang mourns you

Noob Saibot : He is wasting his time

(Y/N) : I agree. I like this you better

Noob Saibot : Shao Kahn refers to me as your concubine

(Y/N) : *laughs* You love it

Noob Saibot : Yes. Very much so

(Y/N) VS MK CHARACTERS

Cassie Cage : You and Bi-Han remind me of Morticia and Gomez Addams

(Y/N) : Who?

Cassie Cage : How do you not know them?!

(Y/N) : I’ll have my lover deal with you

Jax : Didn’t Scorpion toast him?

(Y/N) : Didn’t Ermac rip off your arms?

Raiden : I told you that following in line with Bi-Han was trouble

(Y/N) : You are just mad that I am not a lap dog like Liu Kang

Raiden : It saddens me to see you like this

Johnny Cage : (Y/N) and Bi-Han sitting in a tree-

(Y/N) : I will burn your tree to the ground.

Johnny Cage : Sheesh. Tough crowd.

Liu Kang : You were the best female warrior in Earthrealm

(Y/N) : Such a pity that all the women you know are next to nothing

Liu Kang : It is a shame to see what you’ve become

Kabal : You and Bi-Han freak me out

(Y/N) : I’ll do more than freak you out

Kabal : You two are a match made in hell

(Y/N) : I hate bugs

D’vorah : This one does not care for your hate

(Y/N) : The realms will cheer in pride when I exterminate you

Sub-Zero : You and my brother are not suppose to be together

(Y/N) : You share blood. You are not brothers

Sub-Zero : He made you as cold as ice

(Y/N) : Your ancestors mock you

Kung Lao : I don’t need you of all people telling me that

(Y/N) : They beg me to release them from their pain

Shao Kahn : I am quite surprised to see you turn out like this

(Y/N) : I was not surprised to see Kitana become Kahn

Shao Kahn : All you and Bi-Han do is talk

Sindel : I’ve never been attracted to such power before

(Y/N) : You are not my type, Empress

Sindel : That shadow has you wrapped around its finger

(Y/N) : You murdered my lover

Scorpion : I was deceived by Quan Chi

(Y/N) : You’ll be pleading for your life as your wife did

NOOB SAIBOT VS MK CHARACTERS

Cassie Cage : You and (Y/N) make the cutest freak show

Noob Saibot : I will never understand why (Y/N) likes you

Cassie Cage : Because I am the greatest!

Kano : Where’s your girlfriend?

Noob Saibot : My consort pays no mind to you

Kano : Damn. How’d you know I was thinking bout her?

Johnny Cage : There’s no way (Y/N) chose that

Noob Saibot : I cannot believe you procreate

Johnny Cage : Says you and everyone else, former frosty

Noob Saibot : You crave for (Y/N)’s touch

Sindel : I crave her power

Noob Saibot : Only I hold all her power

Noob Saibot : You never appreciated (Y/N)’s gift

Raiden : I did not want her to become the villain she was destined to be in previous timelines

Noob Saibot : You only pushed her closer to me

Liu Kang : You corrupted (Y/N)s soul!

Noob Saibot : You were not a man and did not confront the feelings you had for her

Liu Kang : Who told you this?!

Noob Saibot : Your mother greets you from beyond the grave

Jacqui Briggs : I’ll finish you. Then your little girlfriend

Noob Saibot : You are no match for (Y/N). Do not embarrass yourself

Scorpion : Your lover wants to avenge you and kill me

Noob Saibot : Such a shame your wife can’t do the same for you

Scorpion : Now, I will kill you

Kabal : So do you and your shadow thing tag team (Y/N) or-

Noob Saibot : I’d worry about your lungs giving out

Kabal : Jeez. It was just a question

Noob Saibot : Challenging (Y/N) is a mistake

Sub-Zero : To get to you, I must get to her

Noob Saibot : She will greet you with death

MK CHARACTERS MENTIONING YOU AND NOOB SAIBOT

Kung Lao : So you really did have feelings for (Y/N)?

Liu Kang : It is a thing of the past

Kung Lao : I don’t know if she downgraded or upgraded

Sonya Blade : (Y/N) is not your friend, Cassie!

Cassie Cage : I know she’s one of the bad guys but she makes great smoothies!

Sonya Blade : Why do I even bother?

Liu Kang : History would be different if you didn’t doubt (Y/N)

Raiden : It is a mistake I think about often

Liu Kang : Not often enough

Scorpion : (Y/N) will stop at nothing to get her revenge

Sub-Zero : Rage is an emotion you two share

Scorpion : Her rage has grown too powerful

[peachetteprice]

Stern Captain John Price...

...Who is a total dog guy through-and-through but eventually succumbs to your cat's pretty face. It isn't an evening with him in your apartment without him muttering, whilst he's cooking;

"What?"

"Hey!"

"What's the matter, lovie?"

"What is it, darlin'?"

"Dearie me, you're very vocal today, ain't ya?"

Every time she meows for attention. In a voice so tender that you know he's never used on you. He relentlessly volunteers to feed the poor thing and asks if she can have more biscuits, despite your warnings that the vet advised not to over-feed her (because she's the most determined scavenger you know - you'd think she was a character on Lost with how desperately she screeches for any morsel of food in her immediate vicinity), but he still frowns, waits five minutes, then sneaks her a handful of biscuits - from his palm, which she gladly takes, because again, Lost, as well as him knowing that you'll hear it if they clatter into the dish - all the while, during which, he ensures via a dozen glances over his shoulder that you aren't about to chastise him for it.

Sweet John thinks you haven't noticed the extra chunkiness around her primordial pouch, but you have - you're just too kind to say anything about it (and you secretly adore the way his eyebrows raise whenever you announce that it's feeding time).

Do not be deceived that he won't still insist that he's a dog person.

Because he will.

Every damn time he comes around will he see your cat, fold his arms and say "you know, I'm more of a dog person, I am", only to rush to the couch and wait patiently - never staring, never moving a muscle because he initially assumes all cats are jittery, distrustful creatures worthy of the attention of a God, not a mere mortal such as himself (and he's not wrong with half of that drivel) - until she clambours on his lap and curls into a shrimp.

He gasps the first time it happens and exclaims;

"Love!" And tilts his head to her like she's a statue that he needs a secondary opinion to be given of whether it's moved before he checks (it has not).

Unfortunately, with all of the sweet things he does, he also actively asks if there's any housework to be done whilst he's over. Oh, because he wants to do it like the gentleman he is, considering you routinely give up your bed, body, and fridge for him? No. Silly! He wants to make sure you're running around like a headless chicken so that he can have a few more minutes of your cat sleeping in his lap, because as soon as your arse hits the cushions, she chirps up and crawls over to yours, instead.

He's a little bit confused when it comes to cats. He often watches her sleep, palms his beard, gives her a point - the same one he gives when he tells his boys off - and asks, most sincerely;

"Is she comfy like that, love? Won't her head ache after a while?"

But, oh, John, she's loafing! It's her natural state.

It takes him a long while to adjust to the various positions in which she clumps, the variable number of nicknames you give her on the daily, and the variety of noises your lips make as you call her to you, but John's a fast learner. Soon enough, she'd rather saunter his way and arch herself along his shin with a saccharine meow than respond to the fact that she needs flea-ing, even if you need her here, now.

Otherwise, she'll dirty the place up, and John'll complain about having an itchy beard again!

And we can't have that happen, because he spent all of ten minutes combing his beard - the same one she nuzzled her chin up against a few days prior - whilst you were undressed in bed, sighing, somewhat cold, waiting until he'd checked it thoroughly before he gave himself the all clear to eat you out until you came.

And the very next morning, what did he do?

He opened the bedroom door - only wearing his boxers - and carted her in to wake you up, yowling and purring. And, though you love her, and you wish nothing but happiness for her, it was something of a rude awakening when you'd rather be fast asleep, repenting for the hours of sleep you'd lost from being fucked within an inch of your life. It's something he catches onto, thank God, as he scoops her up by the belly - shit, he's getting really good at that - and tosses her out of the room, before sinking into the sheets once more to pepper kisses along your bare skin until, finally, begrudgingly, you wake up and he can play with her again!

(Oh, but he'll never admit he actually likes the thing. No. Never. Any emotion resembling that of pleasure is purely on behalf of you. It's what he thinks you'd like... and, with that being said...)

God forbid you make the mistake of mentioning wanting another cat because as soon as you do, he'll slam his phone on the counter, give you a positively wide-eyed stare - almost like a kid on Christmas - and insist that you should. Well, only because your cat needs a friend whilst you're both gone (despite the fact that she's four years old already...)

And, of course, with that territory comes a dozen screenshots of cats for adoption from Pets4Homes, Pre-loved and various animal trust websites that he think will be a perfect fit for your cat - when he really should be finalising paperwork - complete with a bemoaning message of:

Not trying to sway you in any direction, gorgeous.

Except he is.

Oh, and... what's that? Oh, yeah. It fucking works.

Because barely three months after he made his mark in your flat, are you placing a carrier containing a little tortoiseshell kitten (his favourite listing that he sent on the daily, and practically wa-hey-ed with delight during a very very serious briefing with Laswell at the prospect of being home that night to meet the kiddo) before the closed carrier of your cat, and - almost as if it was fate, played by the hand of God himself (John, that is) - they're more than happy to co-habit, and John's soon finding ways to sneak them both shreds of leftover roast chicken every Sunday.

The cheeky sod.

| Masterlist |

[trendywaifus]

Ok this is a pretty goofy idea I’ve had for some time so

Yk Hanu? The little monke that says Hmph? Well what if we somehow found ourselves stuck as Hanu (Hanu! Reader) basically in Penacony, the various goofy things that’ll come out of the characters finding us

Imagine Acheron finding you and just carrying you around while you’re both lost, suddenly all the enemies flee as quick as they can from you when you think did an intimidating enough hmph (it’s actual Acheron they’re afraid of)

Firefly and Robin will prob just gush at our small size and keep us in their hands at all times

goofy?? this is sooo cute???? lil hanu is so adorable bro. also hanu’s a wolf!

acheron prob gonna find you sticking out of a small hole in a wall by the tv, your little legs frantically kicking around.

acheron would def get lost while trying to find someone to help you revert back to your normal form. you’d be perched on her shoulder, trying to use your hms’ to make conversation or get her attention. you’d grumble a small hm’ and point to some random direction and she’s go towards it because she’s silly and trusts you.

“ do you think we strayed too far, little one? “

“ hm. hm. hm. hm. hm. “

“ . . .uh–huh. thank you for the input. “

she ends up facing a dead end and sighs. her head perks up at the sound of crowded footsteps and turns around to see a bunch of angry men in suits cornering you and acheron. “ found you! i’m here to return the favor by beating you up for what you did to me and my buddies earlier! i brought my boss here too!” a dark suited beefy man comes forth with a cocky grin on his face. that must be their boss! you let out a loud, angry hm, jumping down from her shoulder and protectively stepped between acheron and the men with your little chest puffed up and hands on your hips.

“ wait a damn minute! “ the large man’s smug demeanor fell and he suddenly appears anxious. he frantically smacks one of the men who apparently gotten beaten up on the back of his head. the poor guy’s hat drops down on the asphalt. “ you fuckin’ knucklehead! do you know who you just brought us to?! let’s scram! “ as quickly as they came, they left, leaving a little you hming in triumph and a confused acheron. not a moment later, the guy hurriedly comes back for his hat and scrambles away.

“ hmmm!! (don’t come back, losers!) “ you huffed.

she blinks before emitting a soft chuckle and gets down on her knees, offering a open hand for you to hop on. “ it seems like you scared them away, my little one. that little body of yours is deceiving. “

yeah robin would be gushing over how adorable you are as hanu. she’s gon cradle you in her hands and smooch your face while resisting the urge to drown you in even more kisses. “ my little cool cutie. “

firefly’s the same! she’d awe and hug you close to her chest. if you want, she’ll place you on the top of her head so you can have a nice view of everything.

“ i think i don’t mind you staying like this, (name).” she giggles at you cutely stomping your little feet on her open palm with an annoyed hm!

[inafieldofdaisies]

(WIP) Music Monday / The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.

Prefacing the first one by saying it's not exactly THEIR ship song, but more of a Mer and Joseph dynamic song (ANTI-SHIP if you will) and how she sees him as an imposter, a fake that feeds on people, the real snake in the garden. Also can we talk about the album cover and how much it embodies Mer as aesthetic (esp side by side with her updated ship banner), then we have the actual album name that is Santa Sangre = Holy Blood.

Take you time, pretending she's your little concubine You keep a secret in the darkest mind You make her smile but she's screaming, yeah, she's screaming 'Cause you're greedy You take what you want like you need it Leave her bleeding You're a snake in the Garden of Eden [...] (outro) You should be scared of me

Late night, it was your intention Got a bible to swear on, well Not satisfied, old temptation Listen, I'm a keeper, baby Honestly, all my life, all my days, always Survive on your footsteps Just a cold call away Your light, oh, blinding me Like a goldmine unfound I'm a keeper, baby

That girls a problem, call the police yeah She's a fire looking for gasoline She'll steal your heart boy, piece by piece And make you pay, oh, you better believe Roaring like a river Rolling like the thunder Wild like a hurricane Wilder than the rush of the flames She's on Fire She'll pull you in and never let go She's dynamite, she's ready to blow She'll make you never never say no

Taste of desire colors the room Love makes you crazy, no way out for you Told you once, told you twice For what we have done we will pay our price Watching the nightsky Sin never tasted so- I don't want your secrets I just want your love Don't ask me to keep it 'Cause I've had enough

Tagging, @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @cassietrn @direwombat @simplegenius042 @madparadoxum @onehornedbeast @jillvalentinesday @shegetsburned @purplehairsecretlair @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @voidika @socially-awkward-skeleton @florbelles @dumbassdep @strangefable @corvosattano and anyone that would like to do the tag ❤️

[holyfated]

AN ANNOYED TWITCH OF HER EYE . ❝ i will rip out your eyes , freak . ❞

[rubberduckyrye]

All right let's talk about what it means to Trick Someone because I'm full of Salt.

Here is the definition of "trick":

trick /trĭk/

noun

An act or procedure intended to achieve an end by deceptive or fraudulent means. synonym: wile. Similar: wile

A mischievous action; a prank. "likes to play tricks on the other students in the dorm."

A stupid, disgraceful, or childish act. "Don't let the kids pull any tricks while we're gone."

A peculiar trait or characteristic; a mannerism.

A peculiar event with unexpected, often deceptive results.

A deceptive or illusive appearance; an illusion. "This painting plays tricks on the eyes."

And for good measure, let's see what "fraudulent" means since I'm going to assume everyone here knows what "deception" means:

fraudulent /frô′jə-lənt/

adjective

Engaging in fraud; deceitful.

Characterized by, constituting, or gained by fraud. "fraudulent business practices."

Using fraud; tricky; deceitful; dishonest. Similar: tricky deceitful dishonest

So when people insist that Gonta was "tricked", they are trying to say he was fooled or deceived into Killing Miu. This, in turn, means that Gonta Must Not have Known what he was Doing, as being "tricked" into doing something means to be deceived. AKA, if he knew that Killing Miu was going to kill her, then he was not deceived, and thusly, not tricked.

Oh, but wait--

Alter Ego Gonta doesn't exclaim that he didn't know Miu had died, or that he didn't realize his actions would lead to Miu's death--He knew that his actions would kill her. He was surprised that his real self knew that he had murdered, and that surprised him, because Kokichi was supposed to take the fall for Gonta. They weren't SUPPOSED to know that Gonta killed Miu. That's why he's devastated/disappointed that they (He and Kokichi) failed.

To continue:

Gonta literally admits to killing Miu because he knew no one else wanted to. He knew that no one else would want to kill to Mass Mercy Kill the rest of the class, so he took that burden upon himself as a sort of twisted self-sacrifice.

I love how Kokichi spells it out that he told Gonta they should mercy kill everyone and yet this detail gets swept under the damn rug all the damn time--

But that is not the point so I am moving on

HUZZAH. The man himself, everyone.

Hmmmmmmm! Sure sounds like a motive rather than a deception if you ask me--

Gee this is sure awkward dialogue for a deception. Because it sounds like Gonta had the motive to kill everyone. Because he thought Hell was all around them, and living in hell sounded like a fate worse than death.

Interesting development here though:

"When I saw the flashback light my first thought was 'It would be easier to die'." That is what Gonta said before--and then he suggests that he had all of those other thoughts after that first thought--like that it's hell inside, it's hell outside, it would just be easier for them all to die, and this was BEFORE Kokichi even said a word to convince Gonta.

Gonta was already on the same damn page before Kokichi even spoke.

And when everyone was demanding Gonta to tell them the truth?

He did that all on his own. No influence from Kokichi. He said that he couldn't tell anyone the truth, because if he did, they they would all feel the horrible despair he was feeling.

Like if you hate Kokichi? Fine. If you can't stand him? Whatever.

But. Stop. Saying. He. Tricked. Gonta.

You are being ableist as FUCK and removing one of Gonta's best character development moments--of his kindness twisting and warping into a motive for murder.

Gonta is not a damn child. He knows what killing means. He knows that him killing Miu means she would fucking die. That was his aim! That was his GOAL! He wanted to kill Miu to mass mercy kill the class! He wanted to kill them all before they felt the same despair he and Kokichi felt!

Even if you don't believe me on Kokichi's motivation lining up with Gonta can you at LEAST acknowledge that Gonta is very blatantly talking about his own motivations and was convinced of this himself? That this was his motive to kill? That he is a tragic character who was so twisted by grief and despair that he thought death was the only salvation?

Can you like.

Consider this for one second? Please???

[shalotttower]

A Heart Deceived

Title: A Heart Deceived

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Jacob Seed x Reader (female)

Summary: AU where soulmates share the same marking and Jacob doesn't have to brand you any further.

Word count: 2900+

Notes: soulmates, yandere!Jacob Seed, Reader is not the Deputy, captivity, violence, emotional manipulation, dub-con kissing, scars and injuries description: Reader has a mutilated ear and facial scars from a wolf attack and is not happy about it, a mild form of Stockholm Syndrome.

His fingers are surprisingly gentle. You don't expect it from him, the gentleness, Jacob is not kind or caring. Jacob is not warm, not nurturing, not indulgent. Yet his thumb skims across your jaw with quiet focus. Down the side of your neck, up your chin to follow the slanted line there, then it repeats the whole procedure on a different scar. They had long healed by now and turned into uneven ridges of mismatched tissue.

It hurt when the damned wolf bit you, the next day, and for many following days; the effective and precise killing machine aimed for the throat, and if you didn't twist the last moment, would have succeeded.

Jacob never punished the wolf, it was serving its purpose, while you, you were supposed to think before acting and understand the possible consequences.

The pain could be endured and later forgotten, what could not was the humiliation of lying on the dirty ground and the shiny view of Jacob's boots growing larger until they stopped in the line of your vision. A moment of painful awareness: the escape attempt which failed so abruptly and so brutally had become laughable. Jacob grabbed your hair and shook you like a disobedient puppy. "That's on you, sweetheart. Be wary of the quiet ones, they say."

Those last words sounded as if he were talking to himself, rather than anyone else.

"I warned you."

He did.

Jacob is right, not in everything, but in many things. One can try and deny it, another can scoff, but the bottom line is the same: Jacob is right in many things, and at times it's better to listen. Even despite an involuntary gagging reaction.

Your heart hammered and every single beat of it brought to the surface what you already knew — there would be no other attempts. The paleness from fear or perhaps blood loss must've shown on your face, because he let go of you and crouched down. "Pathetic."

It lacked genuine heat, disappointment, or any emotion. Being disappointed would mean that Jacob expected something in the first place. He pulled off his jacket and pressed it to your face, stemming the bleeding. The ground seemed more interesting than ever, dry soil dotted with rocks and grass blades scattered everywhere, trampled by people's feet.

You don't want to look at him or acknowledge the touch to a small sword on your wrist, identical to the one above his left elbow. The mark is a clean reminder and a binding claim for life. You don't want to see it or remember how Jacob's face twisted when he realized just who you were.

Like someone had slapped him.

A lot has happened; Montana turned different from what you saw on TV and the world suddenly shifted under your feet, rearranged from a little road trip across the states into his territory, his commands, his people. A part of you — a foolish, soft part — wished you could've met under different circumstances, in a different place and you told him once about it in a moment of weakness. Jacob stilled at first, but then kept cleaning his gun. "We're here, sweetheart. Nothing we can do 'bout it."

Could've beens and never happeneds weren't worth wasting thoughts on.

Now Jacob is tracing your scars. He's not handsome, not really, there's too much roughness to the lines of his face, dark circles and untrimmed beard, but... you frown. You don't know how to describe Jacob Seed or why you even bother trying. It's odd to think about him this way. Weird.

Jacob catches your eyes. "What?"

You close them. "Nothing."

He makes a noncommittal sound, then leans in. The kiss to your forehead is unexpected and brief. A lot of them are — quick kisses on your temple when Jacob thinks you're asleep, on your nape when he leaves the bed before dawn. They make you wonder just what he wants from you.

He never expects affection back.

Doesn't try anything further, and you both are suspended in this limbo, neither being the first to break it, nor acknowledge its growing significance with every passing day. One part of you craves it, to yield in a different way, not because it is required, but because you want, yet Jacob doesn't ask, so perhaps it's for the better.

Another gets nauseous. He breaks people. Like dry twigs, discarding the pieces when they have no more use. You've seen his Chosen training until they begged, cried and crawled, their pride crushed along with the body.

There are days you can't bear looking at him.

***

Sometimes, sometimes, you wish him dead and gone from the world, then the mark on your wrist aches like a fresh wound.

"When will you take off the chain?" You ask and wiggle your foot a bit. It's long enough to reach the bathroom, to wander around the quarters, but not to walk outside. Jacob doesn't look up from his book. The cover is worn out and you suspect he read it many times already, military stuff. Strategy. Survival tactics, you have no idea.

"When I know you've learned your lesson."

So, not today.

You sigh and roll onto your stomach. "It's stupid."

He doesn't respond.

It's annoying more than anything. Reason — you're his soulmate, not some runaway cow ready to get lost in Montana wilderness — didn't help and only gained you a blank stare followed by a lock click. The chain rattles with each movement, loud and distracting; Jacob just keeps reading as if nothing happens.

Sometimes, sometimes, you catch yourself thinking that this isn't so bad after all. He treats you well for a cult leader: fed, clothed, clean, sheltered. Compared to the cages his future Chosen sleep in, you don't get to complain. You have a comfortable bed instead of cold dirty floor, normal meals rather than a chunk of raw meat, privacy and silence without old school music 24/7.

You frown. No, it's not nice. It's Stockholm Syndrome, plain and simple. You should be free, away from this place.

"Are you angry?"

Jacob turns another page. "No."

His room smells of pine wood and gun oil, with an undertone of metal. The furniture is scarce and practical. A wardrobe, a desk with a radio placed on top, one bookshelf. Bare walls except for a giant map pinned opposite the bed; you've memorized all the markings on it during your stay. The areas which got liberated by Deputy are red, his outposts are circled in blue. Jacob doesn't talk about Deputy much, but the way he clenches his jaw over the radio frequency makes you think they must be a real pain in the ass.

Secretly you hope they blow Eden's Gate HQ to pieces soon.

What would it mean for you?

These are questions, vague and inappropriately timed, coming to mind. What if Deputy happens to eventually tear the Project apart? They escaped John, escaped Jacob and you were to personally witness his foul mood for two days straight. You overhear bits and pieces of conversations, the Chosen talk if they think no one listens — Deputy is strong and clever. Persistent and cunning. Maybe that's the reason Jacob's so obsessed with them.

What if...

You glance at him from under your eyelashes and rub the mark. They say there's a connection between soulmates. If one dies, another experiences it on a physical level. Jacob said that was bullshit. His brother didn't confirm or deny when you asked him after a sermon.

Joseph Seed unnerves you. Not just because he believes himself to be God's vessel. There is something in his voice, quiet and soothing like the distant rolls of thunder, it raises goosebumps when he starts preaching and you're forced to sit through it. Something in his eyes behind yellow-tinted glasses sends shivers down your spine, very little to do with his religious fanaticism.

What would you feel if Jacob died?

The thought creates an unpleasant twist in your stomach, unwanted bond or not, it leaves you queasy. You curl on the bed. Jacob has reading glasses, you barely held back a snort the first time you saw them propped up his nose. He shoots a flat look from above the pages but doesn't comment on your inquisitive stare.

By now you know when to speak and to remain silent (mostly). He dislikes unruly ones and finds satisfaction showing them just how insignificant they are, how mistaken in every single sense. Weak. That's why you annoy him mildly when feeling particularly brave or in need of interaction, but never play soldier or power. It triggers something which is best avoided, gets people punished, then shot in front of others. Or sent for trials, you're not sure which is worse.

Jacob marks a page and sets the book aside. "What?"

"What 'what'?" You ask back, fiddling with the hem of a grey camouflage shirt. It's way too big on your frame, Jacob likes the look of it, judging by how much of your wardrobe consists of his stuff now that you don't leave the room.

"I can hear the wheels in your head turning, spit it out."

"What would happen to me if something... happened to you?"

You're afraid of saying 'if you die' because it's final, even though Jacob seems invincible most of the times. A mountain against hurricanes. Yet everyone dies eventually and the Deputy keeps winning against all odds set before them.

"Nothing. Joseph takes care of you."

This is news, and frankly not the answer you hoped for.

('You'd go free' was. He didn't say 'I won't die' either.)

Tension seeps into your shoulders without a conscious thought. "Why? I am nobody to him."

"You are my soulmate," Jacob replies, simple as that, like it explains everything. Perhaps in their cult world it does, but not yours.

"So?"

He pats his thigh.

It's a gesture without much interpretation required, but you stay rooted on the bed. Cautious. You've grown familiar with each other after living together for months — sharing a space tends to do this to people — still tonight is different, full with awkwardness you haven't felt since that time he walked in on you changing.

Jacob's stare is intense. Heavy, cold blue eyes linger on your wrist where the sword surrounded by flames peeks from under the long sleeve. You swallow a lump in your throat and get up on unsteady legs.

"So he will do it out of memory. You're family, pup, whether you wish it or not."

With the same caution you sit on his lap, war memories written in pink-red skin decorate his face. Just like yours, you think, the only difference is the place and origin. There's something intimate about being like this. Jacob holds you in place once you settle down, not comfortable, but not exactly uncomfortable either.

"Never took you for a cuddly type," you say to shield yourself from growing unease. "Why the change?"

Jacob's thumb presses to the corner of your lips. "Got tired of those puppy eyes staring at me the whole evening, sweetheart. You can have a closer look."

"I don't have puppy eyes. And maybe I like looking from afar."

"Yeah?"

His beard has a prickly feeling to it.

You know your face will never be the same after what happened. From his point of view, Jacob can probably see where the scars begin in the hairline, then continue downwards only an inch away from your eye; small miracles and such. Half of your ear is missing, a good solid chunk. It's not a nice look.

"Don't touch them," you mutter.

You don't mean to share your thoughts in such an abrupt manner, but these intimate moments become a source of discomfort, like a sharp, twisting knife. Jacob doesn't flinch at the sight, he probably saw worse things, still it feels humiliating being reminded of your shortcomings and the fact that this is your face — permanently marked.

Jacob doesn't stop.

"Beauty dies fast, darlin'," he says slowly. "This here... this'll stay."

He never sugarcoats anything. Never lies to spare feelings, ruthless and pragmatic with a clear understanding of what matters and what doesn't. Only the weak need empty reassurances; his words. You hate this side of Jacob just as much as admire it on occasion, right now you wish he said something else. Beauty dies fast.

"Thank you Jacob, very comforting. Top ten phrases you should tell someone who got mauled by a Judge." You cross your arms, wondering why the hell are you talking about this. With Jacob. The worst choice possible to bring up sensitive topics, or maybe the only one, since there's not a lot of people around anyway.

"I ain't here to stroke your ego, sweetheart. This," he traces a scar, "is a lesson to remember. Next time when thinking 'bout running — think again and think good."

There will be no next time regardless of how he phrases it. The chain rattles every night when you shift under the blankets and falls down with an annoying bang as soon as you get up. There's nowhere to run too, the Whitetail Mountains belong to Jacob, he rules them like a king would rule his kingdom, with iron fist and strict order, and who knows what the local Resistance will do to you if they catch you first.

If they figure out whose soulmate you are.

You're trapped between the Deputy destroying outposts and Jacob hunting them across the region, like a mouse stuck in a corner while cats keep prowling around.

The sky outside has an orange-pink hue, casting Jacob's face into soft light and deep shadows. He takes off his glasses, setting them on the book's cover, then wipes a stray tear from the corner of your eye. "You gonna cry over looks?"

You sniffle. "Yes. I wish I never met you."

He stiffens. For a second you worry it might have pushed a wrong button. Jacob never hurt you physically, still there's a healthy dose of fear, not necessarily born out of past experiences. At times his presence just radiates off in silent waves so thick you can feel them crashing into yourself before he walks away and doesn't return for days, leaving you alone with the Chosen stationed behind the doors to watch over and report back to their Herald.

Jacob leans closer until your foreheads almost press into each other.

He doesn't initiate touch often. Once in a while he lets you sleep on his arm instead of a pillow or allows you to sit closer than usual during meals, but that's it. There are boundaries set, most of them are unspoken rules which you picked up along the way: you can ask questions and be generally yourself within reason — as long as it doesn't border on disrespect, Jacob will tolerate occasional attitude in very small doses; you can request certain items provided he approves; he prefers silence during breakfast.

Never challenge him publicly and don't talk bad about his siblings.

This confession can't be taken back, nor do you wish to, because it's true. You regret meeting him, and it was much better to wonder and guess, create images of a faceless man somewhere in the depths of your mind and fantasize about possibilities. How does one even go back to normal life after this?

(Not that any chance of doing so exists in the foreseeable future.)

"I figured, darlin'," Jacob says finally. His voice lacks anger, as if he expected those words one day or another, Jacob isn't naive or stupid and is surprisingly aware of himself in a lot of matters, of the fact that very little would want to end up where he dragged you and being imprisoned under the heavy metal chain doesn't add to fond memories either. "Fair enough."

In all months you two lived together, sharing food and space, in all months, he never kissed you.

Now he does.

His lips are chapped, dry and slightly rough.

You find yourself going rigid at first, unsure what to make out of it. It's different from what you imagined, the fantasy version seemed more... violent and harsh, less intimate and private. He breaks the kiss briefly and then resumes it again.

Slow-slow-quick, Jacob steals your breath away bit by bit until your head spins, until your hands feel clammy and then, when you think you can't take it any longer, he pulls back.

"Won't apologize 'bout the scars, pup. You deserved a lesson."

Your throat feels parched.

"But not of this kind. Never wanted it for you."

It doesn't sound apologetic, neither regretful, but it is what it is, probably the closest to it Jacob will ever be capable of. His hand strokes the back of your neck in slow and repetitive circles, and in an odd way, it does seem soothing.

He takes you to bed minutes later, maneuvers you closer under the sheets and turns off the light. The window is open letting in the sounds of evening wildlife: crickets chirp loudly nearby, some owl hoots in the distance; Montana smells different than other states. Sharper, wilder. You lie like this for a bit, curled against his side and he's always so fucking warm, a human furnace incarnate.

"The moment I saw the marking — I wished you never met me too."

[imbecominggayer]

Writing Exposition And Info Into The Story

This specific post is for @loverboyxbutch who has asked for multiple things with multiple caveats so we have to absolutely get this perfectly answered!

Question One: Exposition And Letters

The quote: I was wondering if you had any advice about telling part of a narrative through things like letters or diary entries?

There are two different ways to incorperate diary entries and letters. It all depends on your formatting

You could have the person's letter be an actual quoted segment of the letter so the reader could physically read it or you could have the basic information be relayed to the reader by the characters.

Neither way isn't better than the other but they do have different pros and cons.

The benefits of quotes is the fact that it allows the reader to see the original writer's personality to come through in their writing. The con is the fact that this quoting can quickly get out of hand and the information is kinda under the emotion.

The benefits of characters relaying the information is the fact that this cuts down on flowing emotion. All the information is laid out there! The negative is the fact that this information lacks emotion and personality.

Objectively speaking, expositio is best gathered through story since it's more natural without having to do an infodump!

Question Two: Balancing Emotion With Info

Quote: "I’m not too sure how to balance the realism and emotion with the information that needs to be displayed."

Remember, realism in stories is less "factually accurate" and more "consistent within itself".

In this case, realism in information is "would this character say this" and "how would this character say this"?

Audiences hate "infodumps" because it feels like the character's personality has turned off and now a college professor is speaking.

So it's definitely important you maintain a character's unique voice and personality when reporting on information. However this can lead to some unreliable narrating.

Ultimately, a character's emotion trumps all else. If a character doesn't have a personality that would reveal all this information in an objective way then they will hide stuff or tell the information in a way that validates their own perspective.

However, in the case a character is willing to reveal information without trying to impress their ideology and beliefs onto your character you need to keep in mind what a character could reasonably know and care about.

Two characters could know the same information but prioritize others. For example, D might focus on the damn bread prices rising again while C is focused on the official's death.

Question 3: What Context The Reader Needs

Quote: "I struggle to imagine how much context the reader would want or need."

This is definitely the hardest thing to answer since this is a highly case by case basis but I will try.

The best universal measurement for what a reader needs to know is how much a character needs to know.

Your characters have information that the readers don't have and the readers have information that the characters don't have but readers don't want to know everything.

Readers need a little confusion and curiousity so they will keep reading and investigating.

The key is to get enough information out there that readers will be emotionally incentived to chase after the rest.

For Worldbuilding, unless this information directly impacts the characters then unfortunately readers just wont care about all the little details.

For future events, forshadowing and outlines are your best friend. You can also use an unconventional story formatting by having "flashbacks" be imbedded into the story as their own individual chapters.

For characters, you can use the "show, don't tell" method. Characters who aren't actively trying to deceive others will lay their personality on their clothing, their face, their room, their friends, and the way they speak.

I hope this was informative @loverboyxbutch . I genuinely appreciate your constant support and I wanted this to be an amazing post for such an amazing mutual :)

[the-banana-0verlord]

Hi there, I'd like to request something for Twisted Wonderland. Could I get reactions of Leona, Azul, Jade, Vil, and Sebek to a (preferably gender neutral) s/o who's usually pretty thick-skinned and gives as good as they get having a strong reaction to something the character said in an argument? As in, usually in an argument the s/o isn't easily upset, so if they're reacting this badly something must be really wrong. So how would those five characters react if something they said actually seemed to hurt their s/o who usually seems damn near unshakeable? Bonus points if it's the first time they've ever seen their s/o cry and it's their fault >:3c

Thank you for the request! I feel like I made it just “S/O cries during an argument”, but I hope I incorporated enough elements to fit your request!

How the Twst boys would react to their ususally strong S/O crying during an argument.

Notes:Gn reader, The relationships described here are not very healthy, because the boys have toxic traits that make the relationship toxic as well. The argument is about this toxic trait, and the Reader can choose if the boy overcomes it or not.

⚡⚡⚡

Sebek Zigvolt

⚡The argument was about how he always priviledged his duty over you.

⚡He let slip that if he had to choose between Malleus and you, he'd choose Malleus. He didn't mean it, of course, but no one has control of what they say during times like this.

⚡You wondered if he even loved you at all, and the tears flowed.

⚡His booming voice was silenced as he watched you with wide eyes trying to wipe your tears off your face in pride.

⚡He's not the touchy type, but he'll pull you into an akward hug, rubbing your back gently.

⚡“I-I'm sorry. Please don't cry.... I love you more than anything.”

🦁🦁🦁

Leona Kingscholar

🦁Due to his natural laziness, you always felt like he didn't care about you or your relationship.

🦁When you confront him about it, he brushes it off. He knows he loves you, so you should too, right?

🦁He finally realises he's been wrong when you start crying, yelling at him why wouldn't he listen to you for once!

🦁He's never seen you cry before, which makes the shock even greater.

🦁“I know I don't really show it, but I do care, Herbivore. I promise that from now on, I'll be better.”

💅💅💅

Vil Schoenheit

💅You try to keep strong through it, but his constant nitpicking absolutely drives you crazy.

💅He's convinced he's doing it for your own good, but even the best of intentions can lead to disaster.

💅One day, enough is enough, even for you, and you finally snap. He takes it badly.

💅You don't know when it happens, but at one point you realise you've broke down in tears.

💅It's then he knows that he had been wrong for pushing this far. It's his fault the mascara he had obliged you to wear was running down your cheeks.

💅“I'm so sorry love. I had no idea I've pushed you this far. I'll do anything to make it up to you.”

🐙🐙🐙

Azul Ashengrotto

🐙He's always piled up in his work and restaurant. There's always something to separate the two of you.

🐙His ambitions get the the better of him and he sometimes ends up not talking to you for a week or more.

🐙The loneliness creeps in. You go numb and start to ignore him as well. That he sees as a problem.

🐙He confronts you about it. The frustration you've kept in for months breaks through the form of tears.

🐙Crying is something he experienced way too often, and he never wanted you to feel.

🐙“Please... I hate seeing you cry... Name something, anything and I'll do it for you.”

🍄🍄🍄

Jade Leech

🍄He is a master manipulator. More often than not, you view yourself as his puppet, one he can use at will.

🍄You keep the feelings in. You don't want him to think he's won by breaking you.

🍄But what's meant to happen happens, and the feelings spill.

🍄His intentions were never to deceive you. He's surprised when he sees your watered cheeks.

🍄When he tries to embrace you, you struggle, because you think it's another one of his tricks.

🍄Ultimately, the strenght leaves your body and you sob in his arms.

🍄“Shhhh... I love you, okay? I would never lie to you. Never.”

***

Hope you enjoyed it!

Have a good day/night!