#AND THE ONLY GOOD USE FOR A MONSTROUS PERSON IS DEATH

[uhzuku]

╰─▸ ❝ 𝐇𝐄’𝐋𝐋 𝐃𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 ( 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄 ). ❞ ──── 𝐟𝐭. 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: His eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦: jujutsu kaisen | 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ryomen sukuna/f!reader | 𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: nsfw ; minors dni | 𝐰/𝐜: 3.49k.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: concubine reader, demon king sukuna, sacrificial lamb x vicious monster trope, fem reader, manipulative reader, canon-typical violence, background character death, reader got a death grip on sukuna w the pussy ngl, breeding kink, fingering, sukuna has two cocks bc duh?, throne sex, cowgirl, no condoms, double penetration, accidental voyeurism, minor exhibitionism, creampies, biting, kissing, pregnancy mentions, murder, blood, gore, didn’t think i’d have to say this verbatim ( but after wasted summer ig i must ) but reader isn’t a good person.

𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐜𝐚𝐬: he is so so mean and yet … here i am wanting his balls in my mouth 😔✊

— 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐦𝐞 !!

The stone flooring is cold against your bare feet, icy and sharp in ways that you used to be able to say you were unused to — but after a handful of years as your lord’s most desired concubine, you’d grown more than used to the endless chill of stone against your soles. 

Only a few short years ago you’d been sent into the mountains to the dusky temple of the demon lord Ryomen Sukuna, a toy for him to fuck then eventually rip apart as soon as he grew bored of you. Bound by the wrists with ropes that had scarred, you were dragged up the mountainside and thrown upon a vast stone table, bound yet again with your hands tugged over your head and your legs spread to opposing corners. Your inner thighs had each been granted one deep slash so blood would begin to flow, and then you had been abandoned there. Alone and in tears, night had fallen faster than you’d been found, and you’d almost felt frozen and delirious when the first shadows of a monstrous figure had caught your eyes. 

He had been a terrifying monster, sporting a vast mouth on his abdomen, two sets of eyes, four arms, and two pairs of legs all connected to a towering frame — all things normally singular about the human form had been doubled, and the owner of such a body had slunk over to you all while salivating. At first you’d feared he’d molest you, then you feared being devoured — but he’d mocked you cruelly and cut you loose before dragging you along behind him by the rope binding your wrists with your slit thighs screaming, your journey ending with him casting you at a half dozen women you later learned to be his concubines, and you’d not left his great stone temple in the mountains ever since. On the contrary, your life had become much easier — you led a life of luxury nestled comfortably on your knees atop a plush pillow next to your lord’s hip, you followed wherever he led you to go, and you warmed his bed and his cock whenever he so chose — which was often. 

Today was one such day, and you desired nothing more than to ready yourself to see the man who clung to you as if he were starved and you were a magicked feast. 

“Off to see the King again?” one of the other concubines, Ino, asks snidely as you loosely drape chains of delicate gold over your skin, and you sigh. Ino always started fights whenever she saw the chance, and you were more than tired of it. Still, a verbal spar was nothing for the King to sneeze at, so he wouldn’t make any attempts to stop it; some days he even found the arguments amusing. 

“Must I really answer your question?” You ask tiredly. “He has called for me—“

“As he does every day,” another concubine, Shouko, snaps. “He never calls upon us anymore, not like you.”

“I didn’t ask for this,” you snap back, and in response the bane of your existence stomps forward, smelling of the honeysuckle and melons that grew along the mountainside where you all resided. 

“Maybe if you’d not come here and thrown yourself at him like a common whore, we wouldn’t be in this predicament,” Inko, Ino’s elder sister, snarls aggressively. Her eyes are dark and stormy, and her voice low and angry like a startled rattlesnake. “We all had a proper system before you came and ruined everything — but that’s all you know how to do, isn’t it? Traipsing in here practically naked from your first day and swallowing his cock down like it was what you were born for, then even daring to take away my night as well as Komori’s the following day.” Komori was another concubine, one nearly as bitter as Inko; she, however, chose to ruin what few of your belongings she could rather than spar with you verbally.

It was always the same with them — always angry that your lord doted on you more than the others, that he cooed at you so fondly while growls were occasionally sent their way ( growls you’d never received ), and that jewels and silks were lain reverently across your soft skin as rewards for earning his affections. “Maybe he likes me better for a reason, Inko,” you say coldly, standing your ground. “Maybe he isn’t calling upon you anymore because he’s realized how much of a surly bully you are — or maybe he’s grown tired of your once overused loose cunt.”

The sound of a  loud, harsh slap echoes through the room, followed immediately by startled gasps of shock and your face stinging painfully; as much as you all threw poisoned words through the air like arrows were loosed from an archer’s bow, none of you had ever dared lay a hand on one another. 

Your face burns, both from the pain from the hard slap and from a barely repressed anger, as you turn back from where it had been forcibly swung to the side at Inko’s strike to glare at her. 

“You’ll start being a lot happier with your life when you stop basing it around both mine and a man’s,” you hiss before exiting the makeup room and navigating your way through the halls of Lord Sukuna’s temple before finally entering the throne room. He was listening to a few servants of his describe the look of the lands outside the temple, and what they believed the upcoming winter would offer them, but he brushed them away upon realizing you’d entered. 

“Oh, my sweet treasure,” he purred warmly. “Come closer so I can bask in your beauty as I do every day.”

Obedient as always, you do just that, drifting closer before kneeling before him in acknowledgement of his power. Before you do so, you see the look in his eyes, and it sends a shot of fire to your stomach that you know all too well; his eyes are hooded, dark with a venomous lust that used to frighten you — but you aren’t the shy lamb sent to slaughter that you once were, are you?

“My lord Ryomen,” you murmur in a voice as thick and sweet as honey while just as deceptive as it would be when a part of a trap for flies. He stands, striding down the short set of stairs that led to his throne for you as he did for no other, and in a gruff voice commands you to stand at your full height. You do as told like always, and it doesn’t take long for him to catch sight of your aching face, which was no doubt starting to bruise.  

He gently grabs you by the jaw, careful that his claws do not prick your soft skin as he tilts your head to reveal your cheek to him. “Your beautiful face…” King Sukuna rumbles lowly, his voice an angered growl as he gently tips you by his grip on your jaw to look at the bruising handprint marring your face, and his eyes are as stormy as the sky outside of the temple as thunder booms amongst the clouds. “Who dared do this to you?”

“Inko,” you murmur quietly, then whine, “She called me a common whore and said I ruin everything. It hurt my feelings.”

“She will be punished,” he promises, cupping your face and kissing your forehead fondly in a show of slight sweetness that you knew he showed no other and strove to keep hidden at all times. Typically his words would comfort you, but not today. You were tired of Inko’s behavior, and a week locked alone in a room with nothing but bread and milk was no longer fitting in your eyes. 

You wanted her dead.  

“Fill me with your seed, my Lord,” you beg sweetly, and he groans while grabbing you borderline painfully tight and grinds your crotches together as you stand together in the throne room, allowing you to feel him at half-hardness. “I want to carry your spawn for you, just like you always say.” It was true; Demon King Ryomen Sukuna was a weak man when it came to his almost wicked thoughts of breeding one of his women’s fertile cunts, but he’d not yet filled any of his concubines’ wombs with life. That privilege, you knew, was to be yours alone — and with how desperately you knew he wanted it, you’d get your prize of Inko’s head on a golden plate and he would get his of the instinctual want for an heir before the week was up. 

You wrap your arms around his neck, standing as high on your tiptoes as you can to do so, and as usual he dips down so you can mouth sweetly at his skin, feeling one pair of arms rest at your hips while the other gently cup your face. “Let me ride you on your throne, my king,” you whisper sweetly, pulling your face from his hold and closing your teeth around one of his earlobes, tugging lightly. You both feel and hear the aroused growl leave his throat, and you move to nip at the base of his throat before asking again. “Please, beloved one?” you beg lightly, pressing a kiss to his jaw as he basks in the attention from your lips and your now wandering hands, which bury themselves in his hair in just the way he likes. “I want you to fill me in the way that only you will ever be able to. I desire the honor of bringing you life.”

You’re being dragged to his throne before you know it, your words plenty enough to tip him over any and all edges he had when it came to you, and he’s taking a seat and tugging you up onto his lap with a practiced ease that you both remembered all too well. He grinds his cock up into the crux of your thighs, his already hard length pressing against the place you were always bare for him beneath your skirts so perfectly. It only takes a moment for him to loose his cock from his robes, and even less time for him to press two of the fingers on one of his other three hands into your wet hole, the appendages curling just so inside so as to toy with you and prepare you for the vast stretch of one ( or even both ) of his cocks. 

“F-Fuck — M’Lord, there-!” You whimper shakily, hips bucking into his touch as he presses one callused thumb to your clit and begins drawing harsh circles on it in time with each curl of his fingers. 

“I know, sweet treasure, I know,” He murmurs softly. “I’ll take care of you — gotta get ya’ all nice and sloppy for me, dear one.”

“No more!” You whine impatiently. “Want you in me!”

His eyes are already dark, but they seem to darken even further at your senseless pleading. “As my foolish girl begs,” he says in mock-sweetness, pulling his fingers from your sopping cunt with a wet shlk! and beginning to use what you’d left on them to wet his cock rather than lick them clean like usual. Your heart ba-bump!s in your chest as a nervous shiver courses through you, but you don’t back down — you’d take his cocks and the resulting child of this coupling as well. 

“Oh gods — yes, please-!” you whimper, feeling the way he drags his cock against your slickened slit, and he chuckles lightly before pressing the fat head in. A stuttery gasp falls from your lips as your head does likewise to his shoulders, and you cling to him desperately as you begin to sink down onto him entirely. In what feels like forever ( but is really only a couple short seconds ) he’s fully sheathed inside of you, and you both still for a moment to soak in the feeling of both filling and being full — and the the Demon King decides the time to adjust is up, and begins fucking up into you. 

You bounce on his lap, moaning brazenly like a woman in a whorehouse, and your nails dig into his skin as he uses you like a toy for his own pleasure. Each drag of his thick cock inside you alights a fire in your belly as it always does, and you keen from your place on his lap as all four of his arms rove your body — two palming at your tits, one rubbing cruel circles on your swollen clit, and the third thrown around your waist. 

“Fuck… Fuck…” he moans, biting at your neck, and you whine needily while grinding down on him, trying your hardest to tempt him into forcing his second cock inside. Unfortunately, you doubted he would, considering he was always so cautious not to break his favorite toy ( you weren’t a fool, there was no love in his heart — there remained no heartstrings for you to tug on, only his sensitive cock. ), but seemingly today was an exception as a hand on one of your tits releases it just so he can grab his second length and press it against your sopping wet hole. The thick ring of cream around the base of the cock he’d already filled you with smears across his second as he urges the tip inside, a short scream falling from your lips as it pops in after a long moment of slightly-pained pressure. 

You’re overfull, tears are rolling down your cheeks, but Lord Sukuna just licks them up and begins using your body like the hole to fuck it is, bluncing you brutally on both of his cocks all while still seated on his massive throne. Behind you, you hear the wide doors to the throne room open, but it isn’t until a scandalized cry fills the room that you turn to look while your lord master continues fucking you without a care in the world for the eyes watching. 

“My Lord-? Oh gods, my apologies! I beg your forgiveness, my king!” The hand that had wandered in wails, falling to his knees in subservience at the realization that he’s just walked in on his lord taking his most favorite concubine in the throne room. The sight of both of his king’s cocks sinking so deeply into your glistening cunt had his own single cock twitching beneath his robes, but there was no way in hell he would ever dare to act on such a thing; the last time someone other than the king himself had touched a concubine with their unworthy hands, both had been torn apart in the King’s rage and fed to the carrion birds. 

“Fuck, you’re nothing but my sweet whore, aren’t you?” Sukuna groans deeply, ignoring the man entirely as you refocus entirely on him and the feelings he was forcing upon you. 

“Y-Yes, my king,” you moan shakily, your eyelashes fluttering as an ever-present knot starts to grow tighter in your lower belly alongside the overfull feeling, fueled by a heat that always burns in his presence.

“Cum on my cocks,” Sukuna orders through a moan. “Give it to me, I command you — I want to feel your cunt pulse around me as you come undone.” As he speaks he speeds up the circles he was drawing on your clit, and within moments you’re falling apart around him, crying out in ecstasy as he lets out a demonic roar and oresses himself as deeply inside as he can before emptying his balls. Faintly you register his eyes rolling back as he cums, but you’re too wrapped up in him to truly give a damn about any of it. 

After a few moments he begins to tug you off of his lengths, the muscles in your body just as instinctually unwilling to give them and their stretch up as you are as a natural resistance shows before being overtaken by you clenching down on him. “No,” you whimper, holding him tight. “Mine.”

“Y’gotta let me go, my precious jewel,” he rumbles quietly, and the urge to actually cry fills you and you just cling tighter. 

“No,” you say again, a fresh wave of tears stinging at your eyes. “Don’t wanna.”

A low groan falls from his lips, but he stops fighting you. You barely react as he lifts you, his inhuman strength making most any show of strength possible ( and making lifting you something easily scoffed at ), and you do likewise as he carries you off to his private chambers. A questioning noise falls from your half-chapped lips as he closes the massive open door of the two closed behind him, and he just shushes you before pulling the silk sheets and thick blankets and furs back before placing you on them. He’s straddling you, still stuck due to your clinging, and it takes a brief moment of wrestling with you before he manages to finally pull out. 

A borderline sickly wet noise fills both his and your ears as his cocks are drawn from your needy cunt, and the rush of thick demon cum that follows makes you whine pathetically. He just clicks his tongue at you and tugs on a rope made of golden chord that would ring a bell in one of the servant’s halls and summoned one such person, ordering them to ready your nightly meal ( despite the sun still being up ) so you could eat then sleep at your own leisure. Once the trembling man is gone, he joins you in bed. 

“I hope you meant your urging for me to grant you a child,” he purrs, biting at your shoulder while you press close to him. He pulls away, sitting up on the side of the bed, “Because there’s no going back now — you will carry my seed in your belly until you birth me a child.”

None of this matters to you. You had always planned to birth his first child, had always known that it was what your fate held for you — this moment was not for talk of a baby, no. You wanted your prize. 

“My dearest lord,” you sniffle needily, sliding from the bed on shaky legs and sinking to your knees between his legs, then propping yourself up over your crossed arms on them with a pout downturning your lips. A quickly growing puddle of his leaking cum begins to drip on the floor between your legs. “Please kill Inko — she’s so very mean to me, and all the other concubines are too because she’s been here so long.” Your bottom lip trembles as fresh tears start, and he sighs. 

“But her cunt is so sweet, dear one,” he murmurs, and you whimper and hide your face in one thick, muscled thigh. 

“You said she was loose. Besides, she hit me — I carry your spawn inside of me, and she hit me.” You didn’t have even his cum in you then, much less a conceived child — but you knew how to play the Demon King’s instincts, and the slight angered huff through his nostrils betray the rage simmering beneath his skin. All it would take was the tiniest push further. “It was the face this time, the face you own, but what if she pushes me down the stairs next? I could lose my life.”

Growling fills the air, and you know you've done it. 

“Rest here,” he says quietly, his voice shaking with rage, “Servants will be here to attend to you in a few minutes.”

He helps you up with one hand, half-tossing you onto the cushy bed, then begins making his way out of his private rooms. “Where are you going?” you call innocently, pushing a frightened tremor into your voice. “My lord Ryomen, please don’t leave me — I’m always so frightened without you!”

He stops in the middle of the room; you can see him shaking with anger. “I have business to attend to,” he says through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes glitter. “Come back to me soon, beloved one — I miss you desperately every moment you are away.” 

A grunt is your only response, and he exits the room as servants wheel in your dinner. You curl up prettily in his massive nest of a bed, and you peruse the options he’d granted you eagerly. When he was done, he’d use the excess rage to fuck you again — you’d need to quell what appetite you have now and then some if you wanted enough energy to survive. 

In the distance, furious roaring mixes with shrill, fearful screaming, and you delicately tug apart the roast duck you’d been served as the sounds of more concubines than just Inko being killed fills the temple. Servants cower, and the younger cupbearers whimper, but you just smile softly and hold out your emptied cup. 

“I would like more pear juice, please.”

𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © { 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 } 𝐛𝐲 𝟒𝐈𝐙𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞, 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭.

[ohmyglobwhatthefrickamievendoing]

Blitz is gonna fall stupidly in love, isn't he?

He knows what it's like to have Stolas be in danger, to have a gun pointed straight at him and to be seconds away from death.

He knows what it's like to see Stolas in his full form, how terrifying and monstrous he really is, all in the defence of Blitz

He knows how much it hurts when he thinks Stolas is ashamed of him, when he thinks the only thing Stolas wants from him is sex

He knows how happy it makes him when Stolas laughs at his jokes, when he's the only person who laughs at his jokes

He knows how much it affects him when Stolas is upset, sad and scared (about Octavia being alone in the human realm)

He knows how angry he becomes when he finds out Stolas is in genuine danger

And how terrifying the realisation that Stolas could get hurt, could get killed, is

He knows how much he actually likes the time he spends with Stolas even when it's because of the deal

It's easy. And the way Blitz sees it Stolas is safe because as long as Blitz shows him a good time then no matter how crude he is, how much of an asshole he is, how much he uses Stolas for his own gain (the same way Stolas uses him) Stolas will still stay because it's not like Blitz could actually hurt Stolas, right?

And NOW Blitz has been confronted with the facts, he realises that;

• Even with a way to break off the deal, he doesn't want to leave. He doesn't want Stolas to toss him out. Striker's words about rich, pompous Goetias did get to Blitz but he was still willing to beg as long as Stolas let him stay

• He thinks it's not possible for someone like Stolas to love someone like Blitz, and how that's blatantly not true because Stolas does love him and does care for him. That all the times Stolas acted as such prior to this only for Blitz to dismiss it as being part of Stolas's "kink for the lower class" were all genuine attempts by Stolas to get closer to Blitz, to share time with him

• He was hurt by Stolas's actions and words at the beginning of their deal (even if Stolas did & said the majority of those things because he was inexperienced, repressed and taking cues on how to proceed with this from Blitz himself, those actions still hurt Blitz and lead to him feeling like he was lesser, and that matters) and even after Stolas started being more genuine with Blitz, that hurt stayed festering within him until it got the chance to explode out

• He has the ability to hurt Stolas in unimaginable ways the same way Stolas has the ability to hurt him. He has always had the ability to hurt Stolas, and the same way Stolas has unintentionally hurt him throughout their deal, Blitz has been hurting Stolas this whole time. Except now, Stolas has realised what he has done and took the steps to start making amends, to start fixing it. But Blitz only just realised it at this very moment - that all this time, he had the power to break Stolas, to push him too far, that Stolas even had a limit he could be pushed to in the first place. And Blitz did all that and that hurts Blitz. Making Stolas cry hurts Blitz. And he does try to reach out, he does try to fix it the second he realises he has hurt Stolas (something that is as terrifying and painful as it was the the first time he realised Stolas could be hurt) but he has finally, finally pushed too far and he's sent out

• He has finally lost Stolas, and now he gets to experience what it's like to not have him. What it's like to lose Stolas, who has become a safety net to Blitz, one of the only people who wouldn't leave him no matter what he did. What it's like to live a life (however briefly) without Stolas's presence (even if that presence was sometimes only in the peripheral).

After all that, don't you think Blitz is going to be madly in love? After all those realisations consecutively sucker punched him in the face, you don't think he's gonna come out on the other side with the additional realisation that he's in love with this pompous, rich asshole? Not only that but he likes him, is fond of him, misses him. That it hurts to hurt him. That seeing him cry hurts. That being unable to protect him hurts. He's gonna come out with the realisation that he loves making Stolas laugh at his stupid jokes, and that he'd never let Stolas be defenceless again, that he'd put himself between Stolas and any danger that threatens him.

That at some point Blitz is going to look at Stolas and see the most beautiful thing in existence

[barrenclan]

sorry if this is spoilers bc we might learn more later. I'm super confused with Rainhaze's thought process. When he was saying its pointless. like. I get not wanting to go back bc he killed his mom. but what did that have to do with Asphodelpaw? Couldnt he just walk away? Did he see her and decide he wanted to be part of Defiance? And this was the tipping point to prove it? I'm super confused. Was it because if she left she'd tell someone? I assume we'll get a better explanation later?

Absolutely! I've actually been waiting for a chance to really dig into this. Like Rainhaze himself, his issue is written with a lot of confusion and uncertainty, and it's not very straight-forwardly, so I understand why his motivations are easy to miss. So here it is!

Firstly; Rainhaze as he existed in BarrenClan and Rainhaze as he is now are two very, very different beasts. Obviously he's still the same person, but he's gone through a mountain of trauma, violence, and was forced to confront the fact that if pressed, he would kill a family member - even his own mother. Sure, in the moment he was threatened into doing it, but it opens the possibility that he'd even do that. Maybe he would've done anything to protect his family then, but it's been a long time.

Then, over many months, he's subjected to propaganda, murder, and terrible treatment. His mental state from where he was when he killed Dustfeather is massively changed. He's depressed, listless, and much more willing to kill. Not only that, but Defiance propaganda has worked on him.

(Issue 24)

With so much constant killing in his life, and being constantly vulnerable, he begins to see death as a good thing. Something that ends suffering, something that doesn't really matter in the end.

(Issue 28)

So now we're at Issue 31. Rainhaze is in a "doldrum", like Ranger says (a period of inactivity or lethargy). He's so torn between his new life and new beliefs, and his old regrets and old connections to BarrenClan, that he's basically attempting to end his own life through inactivity. Ranger doesn't want this. Here's his plan:

Ranger knows that BarrenClan lives opposite the forest, across the prairie. He specifically orders Rainhaze to "kill something", planting that idea in his mind. He's hoping that Rainhaze will find one of his Clan members, and make the decision to kill one of them. This would push Rainhaze over into whatever full breakdown Ranger wants, and solidify his ties to Defiance. And that is what happens. So why did Rainhaze make that decision?

We already have the basis of an incredibly traumatized Rainhaze. He views himself as he is now, and who he used to be, as different people. And he belives that's completely beyond redemption.

Yes, all those months ago he promised he was suffering in Defiance for his family and Clan, but it's really hard to hold onto those noble morals when you're being put through hell every day. Rainhaze hasn't even seen his family in months. They don't seem real to him anymore.

Then he is finally confronted by Asphodelpaw, the symbol of everything he's put himself through torture to protect, and all he wants to do is go back to Defiance. And here we go, getting to these lines;

Rainhaze is a coward.

He's separated from Deepdark and Ranger, by at least several days. He could absolutely come home with Asphodelpaw and warn all of BarrenClan - they could evacuate in time, be far away by the time Defiance arrives on their territory. But then he'd have to face his family, face his sister whose mother he violently murdered. Have to stand there and have them look at him and know him and see the scars on his body.

When he says, "this is vile, pointless, irredeemable, monstrous", he understands that killing Asphodelpaw is a disgustingly cruel action. He knows that. He understands that he's choosing Defiance over her, and over them. But that's the choice he feels he needs to make to protect himself. He's not thinking about his family any more.

So he does something so completely vicious and irredeemable that he is forced to choose Defiance. Because there's no way that any BarrenClan cat would forgive him for this. There's no way he would forgive himself for this.

And thus, Rainhaze figures himself out, and burns every other bridge entirely. He makes his choice.

[dippedinmelancholy]

TW: Discussions of SA, consequences, and shit men interacting with women who have been sexually abused. I've been toying with this for a while, trying to find the answer for it on my own but I just can't seem to. Why does SJM treat SA so horrendously? All of her series have this underlying theme feminism, finding your strength, fighting back, ect. Which, on the surface, is amazing. Except multiple women have histories of either straight up SA'd or have endured something that is very much an allegory of SA. Lydia - CC3 Lydia is repeatedly SA'd by her partner, something she doesn't fight back against as it's part of her double agent business. This is an on screen example of very near martial rape. He's violent with her, only put off by her monthly cycle. Ruhn gets hints of it, but there's no denying his knowledge of her pain and her many years of abuse. The first time he and Lydia connect as a couple sexually, despite having this knowledge, he shows her no softness. Lydia herself has no issue with this. There's no sensual connection, no refutal that they don't need sex to care for one another, they don't need sex to seal their relationship. No character development for Ruhn who up to this point has been a borderline sex crazed frat boy. The sex is intense, and though it lacks hard violence, the undertones of ferocity are there. Nesta - ACOSF

Nesta is a victim of SA, something only Cassian has picked up clues on. First, she is assaulted by her fiance of the time. Then, she is violently assaulted by the Cauldron, because she fights back. If she had been a "good girl" and just taken the Cauldron's attention rather than fight back and try to escape, her abuse would not have been so bad, something that very easily and so very clearly translates to real world victims. Then, she is assaulted by the Kelpie. He wishes to make her his "bride", dragging her to a watery death where dozens of women before have died as well. It isn't spelled out for us, but any person with two brain cells can put it together. What do monstrous men do with their brides? What is the role and purpose of a bride? He too assaults her, and plans to rape her. Then, she encouters Lanthys who plans to make her his Queen to rule the world, and forces images into her mind, showing her exactly how he will take and taste her body. Four moments of sexual assault. Three from other worldly, mind breaking evil entities. The Cauldron is just as vile as the other two, corrupted by the Asteri and taking pleasure in hurting Nesta. Again, again, again, Cassian is confronted with instances of Nesta being violated. Again, again, again, he knows the way she has been sexually assaulted, sees how she tries to cope and fails horribly. And yet, how does every sexual encounter go? He is intense. He is borderline violent sexually, though he'd never raise a hand to her. He has no care to give her softness. He practically punishes her for calling it "just sex" despite her being a 20 something scared woman who's never had an impactful relationship where her body wasn't something to be traded and yielded like a fortune of gold, and him being a 500 yr old man who is supposedly supposed to understand women and be more emotionally mature/understanding than Rhysand or Azriel. The men, Fenris/Rhysand - ToG

Fenris and Rhysand too suffer from SA, both from the hands of powerful, cruel mistresses they are "serving" to protect someone they love. These two men are granted space to hurt, to cry, to not know what they want. The fandom in turn is soft with them. The text is sexually soft with Rhysand, though there's no sexual focus with Fenris (which is completely fine, his friendship with Aelin is powerful enough to me). Feyre is soft and understanding with Rhysand, as she should be, yet I can't help but notice this very obvious and stark difference. The Difference

Why are the women treated and written this way? Why are they given no softness, no space to not know what they want? Why are they not given partners who have the bare minimum sense to not rail them like a pornstar? As a victim of SA myself, I'm very much in favor of women reclaiming their sexuality and finding power in it. But there's no journey for these women, no healing. They simply are 'fine' in every sexual moment for their partners, because why would a woman be anything but a wet, willing hole for their partners? Moments after Cassian breaks Nesta wholly, when she was seconds away from jumping from the side of a cliff, he fucks her. She breaks down, sobbing and utterly alone, abused emotionally and physically by HIS HAND, and he fucks her. He tells her it will be fine because he suffered hundreds of years ago, and look, he's great! After all, half of the fandom collectively agrees Nesta should be grateful for being boiled alive, retorn and violated on every possible level. All because she happens to be cruel at times, she isn't a perfect victim, and why should she have any pain when Cassian is right there? All that matters is his wet cock.

There is a constant underlying theme here, across all of the series, all focused on the women, and an obvious opinion and writing habit. If you brush this off as 'it's just a book', I would like to remind you that most of the ACOTAR fanbase are women, young women who are often in their first or second relationship and just now understanding what they should accept in their relationships. It makes me very concerned for Gwyn, who has the most violent and tragic SA history. It makes me concerned for all women who don't see the underlying issues here. At it's core though, it just makes me sad.

[octopotto]

Brain Rot: TWST Cast with Saitama! Reader

OCTO NOTE: College has been absolutely brutal. These headcanons were worked on bit by bit these past few months :(

I saw some TWST fics that used pre-exsiting characters to based the MC off of and I wanted to try w/ one of my favourite characters.

WARNINGS: NOT PROOF-READ, OOC Behaviour, this is so cringe but very self-indulgent, mc is the most sane person in this universe, you decide if mc is bald or not, yandere if you squint hard enough.

SPOILERS FOR: TWISTED WONDERLAND

**The reader will ALWAYS be Gender-Neutral! 

———————————-••———————————

Life at Night Raven College would be much more peaceful if MC had Saitama’s strength lol

Problems would've been solved quicker as well.

At first glance, you don’t seem to be a threat.

To most, you look like a regular, magic-less human on the outside.

And that’s what makes you so dangerous.

Don’t fuck around and overblot unless you have a death wish.

The Overblot crew definitely had one when MC swung their fist at them.

The whole prologue would be shortened.

Fun fact: You accidentally put too much force on the coffin door to get out, thus smashing Grim in the process while he was prying it open :D

Grim, the Ramshackle ghost, and Crowley were the first group to witness your impressive strength.

And by impressive, they mean terrifying.

To Crowley and Grim at least.

The ghost were shocked but very much amused after a couple moments.

God knows how the Ramshackle Dorm was still in one piece after that.

Grim is very happy to have a strong minion to protect him

Just don’t hurt him like you did with the ghost pls. And the door lol

Crowley would be most likely absolutely be afraid and made a mental note to keep track of you. 

Especially since you were almost successful to killing him in his ghost form. He’s making sure that Ramshackle gets fixed quicker.

Crowley: “Great Sevens… How do they have such monstrous strength... This stowaway is just a magicaless human! My…what have I gotten myself into?? *sobs* OH IF I WASN’T SUCH A KIND AND GENEROUS SOUL I WOULD NOT LET THIS TYPE OF BEHAVIOUR BE PRESENT ON MY CAMPUS” *more obnoxious sobbing*

You and Grim: 😶😐????

Despite scaring and almost killing the shit out of the Headmaster, you still start off as a janitor lol.

Fast forward to the Mine Incident with Ace, Deuce, and Grim—

You basically massacred that monster.

A monster that probably injured many Mages and Wizards

You destroyed it in one punch.

On that day, Ace reminded himself to never piss you off again. Ever.

He loves cherry pie, but would rather not become the filling itself, thanks.

Deuce probably was gawking at you after the shock.

Not in a bad way

But in a good way y'know?

But he’s too shy to ask for advice for now.

This is basically the start of Deuce idolizing you and your strength.

Brain Rot:

Ace, Deuce and Grim are your self-proclaimed bodyguards.

At least THEY like to think that they are.

Listen, they know that you are MORE THE CAPABLE protecting yourself in fights or in any physical confrontations.

But that’s it.

You’re basically shit at everything else.

From completing your assignments to even showing up to class, it seems like in the trio's eyes that you NEED THEM to take care of you. You all are like family now!

So they all make an effort to help you out when you need it.

No really, if you keep forgetting to submit that one potion essay that Crewel keeps smacking your shiny ass head to complete, you’re going to get left behind.

 They’re more like secretaries than bodyguards lol.

The post-overblot Spelldrive tournament was an absolute nightmare.

Well, at least for everyone but Ace, Deuce, and Grim.

They were GLOATING about how they were in the lead and challenged anyone to try and top them like the smug, over-confident assholes they are.

The only reason why they were in the lead was because of you. Simple as that.

The Savannaclaw gang put up a good fight

For the first 10 minutes in the match.

All Leona could do at that moment was strategize how not to get his and his teammate’s heads chopped off by the disc you kept throwing at them.

You are quite fond of Ruggie

More specifically: you were fond of Ruggie’s haggling skills.

If were had a choice to trade your god-like strength for his haggling skills and techniques, you wouldn’t hesitate one bit.

And y’know it wouldn’t be Ruggie if he didn’t take advantage of this. He would offer you advice and tell you if theres a huge sale going on at a near-by grocery store if you promise to lend him a hand whenever he needed it.

You were so tempted to say no

Not because he was shady and overall untrustworthy

You’re just lazy

This is his way to spend more time with you but he would never admit that out-loud.

If your MC is bald, instead of Floyd squeezing you, he will smack and ‘dribble’ your head as if it was basketball.

Jamil and Ace especially are amused.

God forbid you ever get a bad tan on the top of your scalp

You will NEVER hear to end of it.

Floyd also is your biggest bully.

jk but not really

Yeah he knows that you could probably kill him with a gentle tap

But when did that ever stop him?

He mainly does it because he wants to see your reactions

You’re so plain looking and your nonchalant voice and facial expressions do not help as well.

But remember only Floyd HIMSELF can do those things to you, okay? Only him.

If he ever finds out that some random NPC student was doing the same thing to you, You’re going to be finding that NPC tossed in a corner somewhere with almost all their joints mangled.

You like how generous Kalim is.

You probably helped him fan the fire off his ass in the ceremony

He’s was incredibly thankful and was able to remember what you looked like.

I mean, you literally saved him!

How could he not remember you?

You don't remember him but let’s not go there lol

Because you saved Kalim from being cooked, he always makes sure that you had enough food for the month!

He would practically beg, like BEG Jamil to make extras so you won’t go hungry.

Especially after experiencing what type of living conditions you were dealing with in Book 5.

Poor Jamil, not only is he working overtime for Kalim, but technically serving food for the person who ruined his plans back in Book 4.

Jamil packing food for you by Kalim’s request: 😡😡😡

totally did not try to poison your food on several occasions

Kalim also begs Jamil to let him deliver the food to you.

He can’t help it! He really enjoys seeing you happy when you receive something from him and Jamil.

You never complain about.

Free food = Saving money.

I mean, if you're being gifted something, why be rude and deny it?

Some students say that you were taking advantage of Kalim because of how easily you accept his gifts without anything in return.

And y'know they could be right

But Kalim doesn't mind.

As long as you're happy, he's happy :)

In Vil’s eyes, you are an enigma. 

It’s like he can’t wrap his pretty little head around on how he feels about you.

On one hand, other than your god-like strength, you’re nothing special. When he first saw you he only disregarded you as another potato that’s not worth his precious time and effort on.

But on the other hand, Vil sees you as a blank slate. Something that ASKING for him to put his smooth and perfectly manicured fingers on. Someone that needs his guidance and skills. 

He doesn’t care if you’re bald or have hair, it doesn’t derail him from the fact that despite you sticking out like a sore-thumb, you’re still so…plain looking.

You probably said some off-hand comment about how ‘Beauty is in the eye of the beholder’ to Vil and just walked off.

It might not meant anything to you

But it meant a lot to Vil.

When it came to the overblots and eventually Book 5, he felt as though he was in a spiral of questions that he himself must find the answers for.

And what were the questions that caused Vil’s current state of disarray about? You obviously.

He’s going mad

He can’t stand it.

You said that beauty is in the eye of the holder? Fine then.

He knows that he could do something for you. 

Something marvellous, something beautiful.

For you and himself. 

You had a new nickname for Malleus every time you guys end up running into eachother.

Malleus would always look forward to meeting you solely for the nicknames.

I believe that Saitama genuinely does not care enough to remember other people’s names that much

So that will be a trait for MC in this.

Malleus probably thinks this is a way humans show affection to each other.

In reality, you cannot for the life of you remember that weirdo's name.

Malleus: *Appears out of thin air in front of the MC*

Malleus: Greetings, Child of Man *smiles*

MC Thinking: ‘Why does this rando keep coming back? What was his name again?’

Malleus: *Anticipating their response with excitement*

MC: Uhhhh..

MC: Wassup…Horton? :D

Malleus: *Smiles at his new nickname*

It took a while for you to come up with a permanent nickname for him but he doesn't mind

In his eyes, it's your way of showing him how much you wanted to become closer companions.

Jack and Epel are always on your ass about “How to become stronger” and when you actually tell them the routine that you did at the beginning of your journey, they literally fell in disbelief.

They couldn’t believe it.

It was basically a simple workout routine 

Both still believe that you’re hiding the secret of how you got to your level of strength.

Thus, joint workouts became also a thing within the NRC Campus and you are the leader.

Not by choice however.

Jack, Epel, and everyone else involved were really curious as to how you train.

I mean, look at what you can do! And you’re not even a Mage!

The first meeting was terrible due to the fact you almost obliterated the school.

One flick and the gym could’ve been in shambles.

That’s why Jack and Epel made sure to do it somewhere far and secluded.

And even then, you still created a lot of damage with minimal effort.

It’s incredible to those who look up to you.

Throughout the story, you gained some admiration and recognition along the way.

From Heartslaybul to Diasomnia, you unknowingly grab the admiration of those who either want to become stronger or see you as a hero. 

Some might say that they see you as the messiah who was sent to protect the school.

But let’s not go that far.

You wouldn’t notice anyways

In your eyes they're all a bunch of weirdos.

———————————-••———————————

OCTO NOTE: Hopefully you guys enjoyed these very terrible brain-rot headcanons. I always found Saitama’s character interesting so I wanted to try out something new. 

Again, I’ve been very busy so I can’t promise anything BUT I can say that there will be more Yandere FF7 fics coming soon! ;)

Thank you to everyone who enjoys my low-quality works! Hope you look forward to my new ones ❤️❤️

[bao3bei4]

BLESSED BE THEY WHOSE LIVES DO NOT TASTE OF EVIL

BUT IF SOME GOD SHAKES YOUR HOUSE

RUIN ARRIVES

RUIN DOES NOT LEAVE

IT COMES TOLLING OVER THE GENERATIONS

IT COMES ROLLING THE BLACK NIGHT SALT UP FROM THE OCEAN FLOOR

AND ALL YOUR THRASHED COASTS GROAN

anne carson, antigonick

panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is a tian guan ci fu fanfiction written by ao3 user bloodletter. it follows he xuan, a side character in the original work, for sixty thousand odd words and over two hundred years. it is very good. it has some hefty cws, though, check them out. but on the whole it’s a funny and pleasant fic. 

you can read this without having read the fic yet. consider it an advertisement with mild spoilers.

let’s begin with a short story about graves: two brothers fight each other for the throne. one is buried a hero; one rots a rebel. their sister decides that the latter ought to be buried as well anyway, against the king’s edict. she is entombed alive as punishment. 

some other things happen too, but they’re not important. i tell you this story, the story of antigone, not because or maybe not simply because she is oedipus’ daughter and she therefore might be as psychically central as her father, but because panting is also a story about duty, remains, and being entombed alive. and it seems to ask the question, in its own way, what might happen to antigone if she hadn’t killed herself, but encased in her tomb, festered, rotted, into a shape beyond a girl, beyond a human? 

when we release antigone from her tomb, what do we see? 

we turn, actually, to zizek here briefly. he makes the salient point that being “not dead” and “undead” are two totally separate things. as he phrases it: 

the ‘undead’ are neither alive nor dead, they are precisely the monstrous ‘living dead.’ and the same goes for ‘inhuman’: ‘he is not human’ is not the same as ‘he is inhuman’... [the inhuman is] marked by a terrifying excess which, although it negates what we understand as ‘humanity,’ is inherent to being-human.

so rather than being inhuman, we might call a ghost extrahuman. they have a surplus of humanity, overfilling overflowing from them. the ghost is simply too alive to categorize. at the heart of being human, is something very very strange.

now i am going to give you a long quote. and it is not because i am lazy but because it is just that good. and i’m a little lazy. so here’s avery gordon: 

if haunting describes how that which appears to be not there is often a seething presence, acting on and often meddling with taken-for-granted realities, the ghost is just the sign, or the empirical evidence if you like, that tells you a haunting is taking place. the ghost is not simply a dead or a missing person, but a social figure, and investigating it can lead to that dense site where history and subjectivity make social life. the ghost or the apparition is one form by which something lost, or barely visible, or seemingly not there to our supposedly well-trained eyes, makes itself known or apparent to us, in its own way, of course. the way of the ghost is haunting, and haunting is a very particular way of knowing what has happened or is happening.

ghosts, then, have an epistemology all their own. they are a way of seeing what is not there, an absence. antigone is not alive. what might she say anyway? what might she want? 

we know, from freud, that ghosts are a projection of our ill will against the dead. we wanted them dead, on some level, and so they reproach us in their un-death. this is why so many ghosts have grievances; we have grievances against them in turn. 

it is perversely surprising, therefore, that he xuan might become a ghost. shi wudu has no grievance with he xuan; he sees only necessity. but panting brings he xuan to life by shi wudu’s hand. 

The man’s hand hovers in the air, and though cast in shadow, it sees uncertainty play out on his face. The companion calls from the doorway, “Oi, Shui-xiong, are we done here?” The first man gazes at the urn for a moment longer, and then turns away. Nods curtly. “We’re done.”

this is the name that animates he xuan; it is shi wudu’s ambivalent last visit, in my view, that catalyzes the whole thing. his fear that it is, in fact, not done, that sets in motion the events that bring about his demise. 

i’m going to tell you a ghost story. 水鬼 are a type of ghost. they live in rivers and streams and they are the remnants of people who died by drowning. be careful on the water: if they pull a living person in, they can finally be reincarnated. isn’t that beautiful? revenge brings you peace. i’m sure it’s that simple. 

these are the kinds of ghosts he xuan eats: “No one had to teach him how to do it. When the first time came, an instinctual part of him knew how to proceed.” but the more he eats and he eats the more he turns into a constellation of hunger. 

A hairline fracture within him widens, opening up that black chasm where the things he swallows are made room for. It spreads out to the border of him, turning him inside-out, until nothing remains except that lustful emptiness. Perhaps nothing more than that nothingness ever existed; in those feverish moments, his humanity feels like nothing so much as a wistful dream of better days that never were.

is it cannibalism for he xuan to eat a shuigui? a human? another god? or is it simply doing as was done unto him? 

lu xun writes in diary of a madman: 

the eater of human flesh is my elder brother! i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh! i myself will be eaten by others, but none the less i am the younger brother of an eater of human flesh!

but so too did he write: 

wanting to eat men, at the same time afraid of being eaten themselves, they all look at each other with the deepest suspicion. . . . how comfortable life would be for them if they could rid themselves of such obsessions and go to work, walk, eat and sleep at ease. they have only this one step to take. yet fathers and sons, husbands and wives, brothers, friends, teachers and students, sworn enemies and even strangers, have all joined in this conspiracy, discouraging and preventing each other from taking this step.

lu xun is, of course, critiquing tradition—the “madman” sees cannibalism all around him, even in the classics he was taught. the cannibal has this in common with the ghost — they are the allegedly primitive ways of knowing that outlived the logics of capitalist modernity. the law, the state, the family, all of it bursting with this repressed violence. freud writes: “From the idea of ‘homelike,’ ‘belonging to the house,’ the further idea is developed of something withdrawn from the eyes of strangers, something concealed, secret.”

marx was no stranger to ghosts. he was of course intimate with the specter of communism, but even more than that, he writes: “the tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living.” the bodies we have eaten return to us. and derrida contended with this problem, describing the ways in which, quoting hamlet, “the time is out of joint,” or rather, history is disordered. the past is made present, ghosts caught forever in-between by injustices and disruptions, necessitating a new way to describe something that is and is not actually present. fredric jameson describes hauntology as derrida’s “mocking” answer to the question of if “tangible certainty and solidity corresponds to ontology... how to describe what literally undermines it and shakes our belief?”

whatever. big shock. what IF law and order were violent. i think they made a show about that. i am trying to move here, from the individual undead to the collective undead. what if it is not merely us that are undead in the world of unliving, but the world which has in fact already ended? 

before he xuan dies, (in this fic) he xuan is raped. i want to read this eschatologically: 

He’s not sure he’s ever been less of a person than this; despite all of the indignity and toil that came before, he was at least always working towards something. Like a feral dog, his purpose has become bare survival. He needs to survive long enough to serve the end of his time, and then someone will pay. 

okay before i go any further i want to give into my semi-medicated anxiety disorder. in fear of misreadings: i am not saying that any of this applies to all survivors of rape. i am making a claim about how he xuan sees and conducts himself, as a malevolent undead avatar of revenge. 

anyway: panting is a story about living past the end of the world. it follows an undead protagonist living past the end of her normal life, her life, her world, and who indeed lives beyond the limits of the original story, veering even into epilogue. this sexual violence heralds the apocalypse, and razes what-has-been to the ground. let us consider he xuan’s initial new form as a ghost: “It can’t touch anything, but neither can it be touched. It is, and it is not.” 

rape and death are a de-gendering process for he xuan. what is left afterward is the idea that mourning can be constitutive of gender. 

he xuan clings to masculinity as obligation: “It wasn’t enough for my parents to die on my behalf? I should do away with their son, too?” but bloodletter also makes new possibilities explicit as well. 

He Xuan’s true body is a weathered vessel for the memory of people he is still trying to do right by, in his way. As much as it might presently seem otherwise. He must fashion new flesh for the shameful pleasures of the dark.

and those new feminine bodies? 

The body itself is an assemblage of women she has seen and been. The form that He Xuan took on with Hua Cheng is too ghastly for polite company, so as Ming Yi she concedes to look more like a goddess.

it is not so simple as masculinity = death and femininity = possibility, by the way. it’s more complicated than that. NOT to personally equate femininity with reproductive capacity, but it’s worth talking about how ming yi’s implicit equivocation of the two through her new undead capabilities has a gender kaleidoscopic effect. 

after all, the earth that’s nature’s mother is her tomb; what is her burying grave, that is her womb. or whatever. it’s a truism at this point. is it feminine to be dead? anyway, he xuan echoes that shakespeare line: 

He Xuan has been inside mines before, in her role as the false Earth Master, and she always dislikes them, despite the comforting quality of their thick darkness. The bottom of the sea is just as black, but while underwater, He Xuan may move in endless directions. Here, she is pressed in on on all sides, and can’t help but think of the true Ming Yi, imprisoned in Ghost City.

womb and tomb, indeed. he xuan builds herself a womb/tomb to return to: 

He Xuan thinks of the manor, encompassing them on all sides. Still, solemn, cavernous. A place where the living have never trod, and any who might come to enter its depths are hers to claim.

central to the fic is the idea of circlusion, or the antonym of penetration. to encompass, to surround, to squeeze, to engulf, to circlude. my god the fisting scene. or consider this quote: 

For her own part, He Xuan dreams of Shi Qingxuan, devoured. If Shi Qingxuan were another dead thing, like herself, the temptation would be too great to resist, and then at least He Xuan could contain her: suspended in eternal digestion and assimilated into the slipstream of selves that He Xuan may drag her fingers through as she pleases, and which never disturb her otherwise.

anyway, this succession of wombs/tombs provides new form for he xuan’s gender and indeed catharsis: 

The thought that a man could look at her and want to shove something in her cunt makes her want to laugh: go ahead, go and try it; plumb those depths, where only death awaits you.

consider the cunt that gives death, not life, but is itself life. anyway. look, to sum all this up, the point i am trying to make is that grief is something that can be so trans to me. she is standing in the wreckage of her old life. and you don’t move on, you move around the shape of the loss, until you are warped and whole containing the seed/husk of yourself. 

remember poor antigone? what if instead of being buried, she was reborn? what if she ate and she ate her way free, until she was no longer human, but more than human, and the world ended around her, but she kept unliving until there was nothing left but GORGEOUS T4T SEX?????? and also there was a really good huaxuan fwb subplot that i didn’t even talk about because i got caught up in the fever of he xuan dramatics??? that’s what panting like a dog at the edge of your bed is about. in my opinion. you should read it. 

[herstarburststories]

my monstrous boy (Coriolanus Snow x reader)

Summary: Coriolanus Snow is a monstrous boy. He's cold, merciless, brutal. And you love him. God, you love him so much. But what happens when you love a monster?

Disclaimers: angst. so much. but don't worry, the next one will be smutty.

A/N: Hello, requests are open skkskskka.

A monster is what it is. People won't beat an eye at their doings, they won't elaborate on why they are what they are. Some seeds come just bad, they say, and you're in luck when it doesn't fuck up the three.

But what does it make the person who loves the monster? What does it mean to be so intertwined to something evil? So in love with someone who wears cruelty like a fancy perfume?

Well, you've discovered it.

Loving a monster means all the love get bloodstains on it. As it comes to Coriolanus Snow, loving him means washing the stains of blood with the water in the river by the Hanging Tree.

The eldest Snow came to you in the dead of the night, blue eyes fading into anything but the mening of the color. You could print out so many emotions there, mostly shock and fear.

But there was no regret.

Looking back, that should've pushed you asay from Coriolanus. But when he trembled like he's nothing but human, you fooled yourself into beliving that he was a victmin of the circumstances.

Perhaps, he was. In the begining. You remember his childhood stories like tales of war. A kid can't leave that violence withour swallowing part of it. Snow was made to be tough, but he was never violent, he would never—

“Ouch.” he grumbles, a sight of disposture that he's not used to display in fromt of anyone but his family, and you.

It's an open wound. It's a bleeding reminder that somebody tried to fight back and lost his life to him.

“I'm sorry.” the words rott in your tongue, you spit them out anyway. “But that's the least of your problems.”

Silence. You can feel him studying you, analyzing you as if you're a lesson he can crack if he just tries hard enough. You don't lift your head, the eyes that once gave you comfort now make you nauseous.

You don't want to watch him lose his humanity like one of the tributes. You don't want to see Coriolanus become someone else.

But does one become something? Or has he always been as this?

“Are you scared of me?” direct, crude, as usual. He may not have the purity of Snow, but he's clear as one. There are no hidden meanings, no interpreter behind the door. He grabs your chin to make you look up at him, “Are you scared of me?”

The answer comes as a rather accusatory ask, “How many people have you killed?”

Quietude.

You can only hear his rapid breathing. You take a glance at him, only for the lavish boy to spare his head away. As if in shame, as if hiding.

When he's scared, he looks awfully lot like the man you swore to die with. Lately, living with him has been a harder oath to keep.

“It doesn't matter. I did this for you and us. We are free.” His tone takes up all the space of an answer. You know Snow doesn't want to talk about what happened, yet you can't stop your words.

“How much death is in your hands, Coriolanus?”

There, sitting in the mud while he bleeds, the man looks at you, and all you can see his a monster. The pieces coming together to make a image of destruction in your head, one inflected by the hands that always caressed you so gently.

He doesn't answer. Coriolanus just remains there, gazing inside your eyes. You don't leave him. You fool yourself thinking, maybe the monster is just trying to protect the boy. You know what he has seen, you still think it's not justified and—

And when he reaches out to place his hand on yours, his palm hand on contrast with his gelid nature, you are smitten, docile, even.

Love, you know, is the easiest way to perish.

Always good to the signals, Coriolanus leans in and presses a tender kiss to your lips.

It's also the best way.

A couple decades have ended. Your love has turned into blood on the snow: red, vicious, rotten. Yin and yang were never attracted, they crashed into each other, they destroyed parts of each other to make home for themselves.

Coriolanus Snow is the president. He gets redder eveqrytime. You still wash his weary hands, hoping someday you'll drown in the blood and be forgiven for being in love with cruelty.

You don't know what loving a monster makes you anymore.

But when the mockingjay cries in the cage, that's a lot like what you feel those days.

Author's: hello!! I'm just started writing this, so please give me some comments and reblogs.

TAGLIST OPEN for Coriolanus Snow x reader. Send a dm or comment to add.

[natsvenom]

Lost & Found - PART 2 | Kol Mikaelson x Salvatore!Reader

SHORT SERIES | PART 1

SUMMARY: 10 years after becoming a vampire, you discover you still have the ability to siphon. No amount of research you do helps you discover why, and you were never able to do it again. You meet a girl named Mary Porter and she tells you there's someone who can help you, but he's the most dangerous man alive, and one of the first vampires to ever roam the earth. But what other choice did you have?

WARNINGS: Minor violence

It had been 44 years ago when you became a vampire. For the longest time you hated yourself, you lacked the one thing you always seemed to have as a witch. Control. Luckily, you had learned the art of compulsion, managing to stop yourself from killing innocent people. Your favorite thing about being a vampire though, was the ability to heal.

Emily Bennett had told you when witches became vampires, they lost their ability to connect with nature. So why did you still feel so grounded to the earth? After ten years of being a vampire, you discovered something.

You were walking down the streets of New York City, it was 1874, and you were looking for your brother Stefan. He had gone off the rails and you decided it was time to give him a concerned younger sister talk. You weren’t sure he’d listen, but the least you could do was try.

You ran your fingers through the cracks and crevices of the dark bricks, humming the tune of an old song you hadn’t heard in several years. You gasp, suddenly being pushed to the wall, a man holding you tightly in place, his face monstrous, resembling something similar to one you often saw in the mirror.

You grabbed a hold of his arm, pinning him against the wall. He was clearly newer at this than you were. He groaned loudly, almost like he was in an immense amount of pain. You were confused, you weren’t holding on to him that tight. You looked down, noticing a red glowing light coming from your hands. That’s when you realized, you were siphoning him, something you hadn’t done in ten years. You pulled back instantly, and the man dropped to the floor, letting out heavy breaths. You looked down at your hands, then back at the man, and then you sped off, without any regard for the man who had just tried to make you his next meal.

After that day, you thought maybe something had gone wrong with your transition. Why else would you be able to siphon still? The truth was, you had no idea what was happening to you, and it freaked you out more than death itself. You tried siphoning again almost every day after the incident, but you hadn’t been able to. Maybe you were just seeing things.

You spent years after that researching siphoners, but you could never find anything. Not a single witch or vampire you talked to knew what you were, most of them just assumed you were crazy or seeking some sort of attention. It was exhausting chasing after what everyone thought was a fairytale.

In 1906, you met a woman named Mary Porter. She was the only person who believed your story and offered you her help. She hadn’t known anything about siphoners herself, but she said she knew a man who could help you, claiming he was an expert on all things witch-related. You had hoped she was right. She warned you though, that this man was anything but good. He was dangerous, and one of the oldest living vampires on the planet. He used and manipulated people, so if you wanted something from him, he’d most definitely expect something in return. Nothing he did for anyone else came for free.

Mary told you if you wanted to meet him, you’d have to be patient, saying he was almost impossible to find, not unless he wanted to be found. She took you to New Orleans, a place he had called home many moons ago. Mary seemed to have faith that he was there though, so you trusted her.

You had spent a year in New Orleans, searching for a vampire who didn’t seem to wanna be found was probably the most difficult thing you had done. How hard could it be to hide in a place like this? Mary seemed to have known a lot of people, and she said she was getting closer to finding him. What you hadn’t expected though, was that he would find you first.

You sat down at the bar in one of many clubs in the French Quarter, a jazz band was playing loudly from the stage across the dance floor. You weren’t really in the mood for dancing though. You order something strong at the bar, fully aware that your ability to get drunk vanished that horrible night in 1864.

A man sat down next to you, you paid him no mind though, your intentions for being here had nothing to do with socialization. He ordered a glass of whiskey, his British accent peaking your interest slightly. It wasn’t often you heard an accent like that, especially not down in New Orleans.

“Rumor has it you’ve been seeking me out.” The man said, his stare burning into the side of your head. You turned to face him and were shocked at how attractive he was, but you still had no idea who he was, so you kept your guard up. He held his hand out, and hesitantly, you took it. A feeling of something dark instantly took over your senses, and that was when you realized who he was. The man you’d been searching for for two years, the one who could supposedly kill you without even blinking, no matter how old of a vampire you were.

“Kol,” He introduced himself, his smile cunning and mischievous. You had wondered if you were making a mistake being here, he was intimidating, and that was a feeling you didn’t like.

“Y/N,” You said.

He picked up his glass once more, bringing it to his lips, “So, what do you want from me?” He asked, getting straight to the point.

Your heart rate picked up. It wasn’t out of fear though, it was excitement, after all this time you were finally gonna figure out what you were. At least you hoped, “I need your help.” You explained.

“Help from somebody like me comes with a price.” He said in almost a joking tone, but you knew he was serious. If you wanted his help, you knew you’d have to return the favor.

“A price I’m willing to pay.” You insisted. He could tell you were serious by that intense look in your eyes, whatever you wanted, must’ve been important.

“Very well then. What do you need that requires my assistance?” He questioned, looking at you very intently.

“Well, it’s complicated.” You sighed, “Before I became a vampire, I was a witch. I learned everything I know about magic from a witch named Emily Bennett.”

“You must’ve had an excellent mentor then. The Bennett witches are a very powerful bloodline.” Kol speculated.

“She told me that witches balance out the boundary between natural and supernatural. Which is why you can’t be both a witch and a vampire because it defies nature.” You added.

“All very true,” Kol said.

“Oh,” You murmured, disappointed.

“There’s been exceptions for certain individuals though,” Kol claimed, swirling the last bit of his drink in his glass.

“Exceptions?” You questioned, raising a brow.

“They’re not exactly well known in the witch community, they like to keep themselves hidden. They’re called the Gemini Coven.” Kol explained. You sighed in relief when you realized what you were experiencing was possible.

“They come from a long line of witches called siphoners, which means they have to absorb magic from other magical entities. Most people think that means they're weak, but that’s far from true. A siphoner can desiccate a vampire just from their touch, and rid the influence of compulsion from any person whose been compelled by a vampire. This power of course doesn’t come without a price. The leader of the Gemini Coven is determined by something called the merge. Every time a set of twins is born into the coven they must bind their magic into one once they turn of age, the strongest of the two wins, becoming the next leader of the coven. And of course, if the leader dies, so does the rest of the coven. Unless you’re a vampire of course.”

You implanted the new information into your brain, finally feeling a weight lift off your shoulders. But of course, you still had questions and concerns, “But if you’re a vampire how can you be a part of the coven?” You asked.

“That’s what makes siphoners so exceptionally powerful. They’re the only witches in the world who can become both a vampire and a witch, they’re referred to as heretics. After the transition the witch side has the ability to siphon power from the vampire side, making them quite unstoppable. There’s only one way to kill them, which would require you to rip out their heart, a stake won’t do it. I haven’t seen one in quite some time though, so if that’s what you’re looking for you’re out of luck, darling.”

At first, you weren’t sure if you wanted to tell him. If you did there was always the possibility that he would want to kill you, but you were having magic issues, and you needed help getting them back under control, “What if I told you I knew one?” You said, rather abruptly.

“Then I would ask why you’re coming to me for this.” He said, drinking the last bit of his whiskey.

“And what if I said she doesn’t know anything about heretics and hasn’t been able to use her magic since she’s transitioned? Would you be able to help her?” You asked rhetorically.

“Well, I would have to meet her first and figure out the issue. There are many reasons for magic being blocked.” Kol explained.

“Like what?”

“First tell me to whom you’re referring, and then maybe I’ll give you the answer.”

You looked down at your glass, taking a moment to think, then looked back up at him, “Me.” You said hesitantly.

“You?” He questioned.

You sighed, “Before I was a vampire I found out I was a siphoner, with the help of an old friend, I couldn’t figure out much about my family history, and all I knew was what Emily taught me. Then I became a vampire and I had no idea about heretics or anything, so I just instantly assumed I had lost my ability to do magic.”

Kol looked slightly surprised, but he tried not to let it show. He set his glass down and stood up, “If you want my help, it’s going to take a while. And that’s going to be a lot of debt, darling.” Kol asserted.

You stood up quickly after him, “Please, I’ll do anything.” You pleaded.

“Anything?”

“Anything.”

tags | @multifandombliss

[gatitties]

Dear friend

─Dio x fem!reader (Platonic) [Phantom Blood]

─Summary: You find yourself tied to the infamous Dio Brando, creating a strange relationship despite being complete opposites.

─Warnings: occ and a little angst i think¿, Dio is soft in this one

I was a little delulu while watching jojo's and listening to sad music late at night led me to write this 😔🤌🏻

Dio Brando's life was not good in general, condemned to live in misery since he was born, with the only source of love and hope dying little by little, his mother was the only thing that kept him sane during his childhood, once his mother's life vanished in just a breath, he thought he would never feel what he used to call humanity again. His father could not be considered human, after all he had monstrous and condemnable actions, being only scum deserving of the most painful death.

He thought that he would be condemned in a spiral of darkness and filth, that his only goal in life would be to wait for his father's death and take over the fortune of the Joestar family once they adopted him, then another ray of light broke his dark shell, where his heart bled with pain, where the most sensitive part of the human being was hidden, even from him, who thought that nothing could give him back that lost humanity.

Dio was making some money as usual, betting a couple of coins to win more in that filthy bar, the carefree conversations and fights were a dull noise to him at this point, but the explosions, the burning smell and the screaming of someone in the kitchen wasn't something that happened often, that was the first time he saw you.

You ran out of the kitchen with teary eyes, coughing from the smoke you had inhaled, some parts of your clothes were burned, your cheeks were red from the heat and the embarrassment of being scolded by your boss while everyone watched, although you recovered soon when you were sent to do anything other than cook, it definitely wasn't your strong point.

Neither was waiting tables since you tripped over your own feet several times, your balance betrayed you at the worst moments and your hands seemed to be made of butter, but you remained firm with your optimistic attitude, that, and you needed the money, you were not going to leave this job nor would you allow such a quick dismissal.

Dio thought you were stupid to say the least, clumsy, distracted, inept… but for some reason he couldn't take his eyes off your figure when you were juggling to leave the beers on the table next to him, he couldn't figure out if you were purposely ignoring the lustful gazes of some depraved people or were you really that ignorant of your surroundings, he found it endearing in a way.

"Hey you, pay attention to the damn game!"

He grimaced, fed up with the man, he made his final move, winning and enraging the guy he was playing against, he threw the coins across the table, but before Dio could grab them his face was smashed into the plate of hot food making a thud that stopped the sound throughout the bar for a second.

It happened before he could react, he was planning to hit that old geezer to break his nose, but someone had gotten ahead of him, before he realized it, a burnt frying pan hit the bastard's face, causing blood to drip from his mouth, some teeth shooting out from its place.

"Don't waste food, you stuck-up idiot!"

Your expression changed to a frown, although everyone ignored your outburst, it wasn't the first time you hit someone for doing something that bothered you, but coming from a family with limited resources made you appreciate every little thing, you were a brave fool, you could mess with the most dangerous person on the entire face of the earth just for standing up for your values and ideals, and that, that's what caught Dio Brando's attention.

He didn't really look for interactions with you, you only caused him a slight curiosity, but there were many people just as stupid as you, living a miserable life, accepting their fate without aspiring to much more, but destiny seemed to want to intertwine your paths, that, or he just began to notice your presence more once he noticed you.

Of course, you also began to notice him more, it's not every day you find people with such striking appearance in the suburbs you used to frequent, especially people your age, and especially those who move through the darkness like you.

You accepted all kinds of assignments, even if they were dangerous, you always had luck on your side and a handful of sharp or blunt objects, aim was the only thing that probably stands out about your physical abilities along with stealth, you had learned to move like a rat, dark alleys, damp sewers… you knew every nook and cranny of this city by heart.

And that was how your first real interaction happened, you were both hired to do some smuggling for a good amount of money, you had worked in pairs before, but meeting the person you were strangely seeing everywhere lately was strange, you weren't going to turn down the job anyway, money is money.

What started with some ups and downs in your relationship was how curt Dio was, his harsh comments and lack of empathy made you frown, you scolded him occasionally for being so impolite and rude, not only to you but to other people who didn't deserved it. It was a tug of war between the two, complete opposites attracting each other.

When the relationship began to heat up, or rather when the remains of goodness that remained in a broken child made a little hole in his bleeding heart, it was when you took care of a drunken Dio, you found him raving, beating to death some poor devils who had decided to mess with him that night, you would have suffered the same fate if you hadn't been lucky enough that before he hit you he tripped on a rock, hitting his head. You took it from there and helped him without asking for anything in return, which caused him to distance himself for a few weeks after coming back looking different.

"What's wrong with you? Huh?"

You pointed accusingly at the blonde, who slapped your finger away from his face, letting out some complaints.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh don't try to play that with me, the time working with you was enough to be able to see through you, ah, I know, did you find a partner!?"

His eyebrow twitched at your new explosion of emotions, grabbing your head to keep your body still as you started to surround him asking a bunch of questions about his supposed partner.

"No."

"Aww" you deflated at his harsh response, recovering immediately "Anyway, seriously, there's something weird about you, I can see it in your eyes."

You moved a little closer to his face once he released you, looking directly into his captivating crimson eyes, although in truth you were just looking at your reflection on his gaze, sticking out your tongue as if you were posing for a photo, he looked in disbelief, you were too stupid and he didn't understand why, why after leaving those suburbs did he return? Why did he keep visiting you if he no longer needed you for anything? Why did he come back after moving to a better life? His mind couldn't understand it, but his heart won this battle and he let the only good feelings guide him towards your clumsy person.

"Whatever makes you sleep better."

He found himself enjoying your presence, your voice, your silly thoughts, your insignificant emotions more than usual, he found another source of light that illuminated the cracks in his shattered heart, minimally healing his inner child, and in turn, he repudiated every inch of your being, so kind and pure for someone like him, were you ignoring his evil nature or were you really that naive to not notice all the red flags around him? He didn't know it, but he would prefer that it stay like this for a while longer, all of his plans were moving forward and you weren't part of them.

You silently observe the sunset, the warm colors gradually disappearing as you lean against the half-broken cement wall, this building used to be your meeting point for the assignments you had together. You look back at Dio, who is unusually thoughtful, you also immerse yourself in your own thoughts, you were conscious, conscious of everything that Dio was and will be, you only needed some information that he let escape between the lines and his behavior of greatness to know that your friend was someone evil, someone who wouldn't think for a second about ending someone's life if they were a threat, you knew it and yet… Was it selfish to want to maintain this friendship? Even knowing that he wasn't someone to admire? Someone who repudiated half the world? That didn't agree with most of your values? Well, you were human, and selfishness is one of the facets that characterizes humanity, you never asked for much in your life, you wanted to grant yourself this whim despite everything.

"I don't know what will happen from now on, but thank you for all these years, I never thought I could have this kind of connection with someone."

Your neck almost broke from the speed at which you moved it to look at Dio, who was facing away from you, there was no way he had said that, expressing so many emotions and feelings like never before, were you dreaming? Was this some kind of alternate reality? Your eyes began to water because of his words, yes, you were a sentimental softie.

"That's so nice Dio, you should say that more often, instead of 'shut up bitch' or 'you suck'!"

You jumped on his back like a baby koala, sniffling on his shoulder while he froze for a second, trying to shake off your crying form, you seemed as fragile as a twig at that moment but you clung to him like a damn leech. He took you off of him after a couple of minutes, unexpectedly his arms surrounded your figure, seeing you buried in a mass of muscles for the first time, you were going to make a stupid comment, but for once you decided to shut your big mouth, passing your arms through his back.

No one dared to say anything, well, the look he gave you after he separated from you was a silent threat so that you wouldn't say anything about this moment of weakness he had, after all Dio has no weaknesses, he is superior to everyone.

Certainly, everything changed from that day, the relationship cooled because he disappeared from your life, you understood that the change in lifestyle was what caused it and if in a certain part it was true, you wanted to check that he was doing it right, it wasn't the case when you discovered that he was trying to kill Mr. Joestar, who welcomed him with open arms.

Your heart squeezed at the information, you knew that your friend was not a saint, you knew that he was a horrible person with others, but you remained selfish in your decision not to see him as human scum, to continue loving him like any other person. Your thoughts didn't last long though, at least not with the new version of him.

You were scared when you found him in your room one night, in the darkest corner, staring as if you were a prey, you could see his agitated breath coming out like smoke from a chimney, his eyes were still the same, but they scared you.

"Has the cat eaten your tongue? It's me, Dio! I don't think you've forgotten about me, I haven't, dear friend."

"You're not- you're not my friend…"

Your words came out shaky, the lump in your throat growing the closer the blonde got, this had to be a bad dream, you had heard that your friend had died after trying to kill Jonathan Joestar, although his body was not found among the rubble of the mansion, this couldn't be true.

"No? Maybe you're just confused, I'm still me, I've discovered a new way of living! I don't need that bullshit humanity, a longer lasting, stronger way of life! I am my best version."

You grabbed the lamp on your nightstand, making him smile at your fear, he knew you used to throw random things when you were angry or scared.

"You are not Dio! You are not the Dio that I know… your look is no longer the same, even when it was mischievous and evil before, it contained that shine of hope."

"Hope? That's pathetic, but you're lucky, I'm giving you the opportunity to live with dignity as a superior being! Just for being you, my only friend."

A hand covered your mouth, knowing that you would scream when he was next to you in the blink of an eye, he laughed at your reaction, resting his chin on the curve between your shoulder and neck, he grimaced as he felt you licking his hand, at least you were still stupidly brave to do that.

"Well? Will you agree to reign over all those filthy humans? You can live forever, without worries like money, no more shitty jobs."

You closed your eyes tightly in a last attempt to wake up if this was a dream, accepting that it wasn't, you moved away from his body, almost falling off the bed, you turned your body slightly to face him directly, oh that certain look of yours, it made him smile.

"I'm sorry, but the Dio I know is dead, and I refuse to accept a deal from a stranger."

He began to laugh lightly without taking his eyes off you, in another blink his imposing figure caught you, feeling again the mass of muscles imprisoning you between chest and biceps, your face pressed to his heart made you listen to the calm rhythm of it.

"I didn't expect anything less from someone as stupid and clumsy as you, I honestly knew that you were going to reject eternal youth, it's a real shame… but coming here was more of a whim."

His grip loosened a little, he rested his head on top of yours, closing his eyes for a few seconds, taking in as much of your scent as he could and it was gone as quickly as it came, you were barely able to react as the heat around you disappeared in a fraction of second, you looked with doubt at the open window, noticing how he was watching you from somewhere, you frowned, still with your lamp in your hand you threw it out the window, closed it as quickly as you could, you got under the sheets as if you were going to scare away the monsters of the night, closing your eyes although with a small smile when you heard the moan of Dio, who had been hit by your impeccable shot.

If you weren't his dear friend, you would have been three meters underground for a long time.

[natureboy96]

In Support of Tamlin - characters who have done terrible things and been redeemed

Here we go with another one :p I think that Tamlin has done things that are unforgivable, mostly his abusive treatment towards Feyre. I don't think this one terrible thing makes him irredeemable, and has made effort to be better than he was at his worst, and I do dislike the thought of people/characters being judged solely by their worst actions without a chance to be better. So, in support of the idea that Tamlin deserves a redemption arc for his good deeds after his bad ones, I want to start compiling a list of characters who, like Tamlin, have done terrible things and still found a way to be better, if not good outright. And of course, SPOILERS FOR THE FOLLOWING CHARACTERS/STORIES

Feel free to add your own in response, in the comments or in reblogs!

Zuko, from Avatar: the Last Airbender - his actions: lead a chase to kidnap the avatar, physically fighting and hurting the main cast, burning a village down, threatening violence on citizens, stealing goods and food from citizens, helping overthrow an entire kingdom, betraying his Uncle who only wanted him to be the best he could be. His redemption: trains Aang to fight and defeat his abusive father, thus saving the nation he helped conquer and the world at large while helping the individual members of the main cast with personal problems, apologizes to his Uncle.

Loki, from the MCU - his actions: acts of terrorism, murder and betrayal of his family, mind controlling people to do evil against their will, multiple attempts at murdering his brother. His redemption: After the death of his mother, Loki works with Thor to avenge her death and later unite against world ending threats multiple times

Filip Nagata, from The Expanse: His actions: the son of a megalomaniac, he commits multiple murders in the name of his father and is in part responsible for dropping asteroids on earth, killing millions of people in the event and aftermath. He kidnaps his mother and physically strikes her, at his father's encouragement. His redemption: this one is ongoing, last we see. After his mother's words while she was held prisoner make him realize how much pain he inflicted, he leaves his father's ship, changes his last name to his mother's and spends the rest of his life trying to do good, knowing it won't ever make up for the harm he was a part of causing. not sure if it counts as redemption fully, but it's an attempt to do better with the life his mother helped save.

The Beast, from Beauty and the Beast: His actions: He was a cruel and selfish youth, turned away old ladies into the cold, raged and berated his servants, imprisons Belle's father then takes her prisoner in exchange, intimidates and frightens Belle with his rage, threats and destruction of property. His redemption: saves Belle from a pack of wolves, learns to be considerate of her needs and interests and how to be kind, releases her from his captivity when he realizes he has feelings for her and she needs to rescue her father

Baptiste, from Overwatch: His actions: working with an infamous mercenary which was responsible for several high profile assassinations and civilian casualties. His redemption: Leaving said mercenary group and trying to use his healing knowledge to help where he can.

Luke Castellan, from Percy Jackson Series: His actions: looking for revenge against his father, he works with the evil titan Kronos to try and overthrow the gods, rallying armies of monstrous creatures, stealing from the gods and attempting murder on his friends multiple times, nearly bringing about the end of the world. His redemption: after attempting to flee and abandon Kronos' army when it became too much for him, he ultimately stops the titan from being fully reborn by sacrificing himself, dispersing the titan's essence so he could never (hopefully) reform and be a threat again.

Alexis Rose, from Schitt's Creek: Her actions: She acts selfishly in regards to her needs/wants, lies to Ted about wanting to marry him to avoid difficult conversations and sleeps with Mutt while they were engages. Her redemption: Alexis learns to become a better, well rounded person, recognizes her mistakes and takes ownership for them by apologizing, And becomes a person willing to put another person's happiness and needs above her own, even if it means losing someone she loves.

Michael, from The Good Place: His actions: as a literal demon, he's spent innumerable years torturing humans in the afterlife, making it his goal to create new and innovative methods of torture when he creates the false Good Place. His redemption: after being forced to ally with the humans he had planned on torturing to save himself, he comes to understand human morality and becomes a deeply moral person himself, at points willing to sacrifice himself to save the humans he'd initially intended to torture and working to make the afterlife a better place for all humanity.

Ebenezer Scrooge, from A Christmas Carol: His actions: Aside from being personally stingy with his money, he is cruel to everyone he interacts with, including his employee and his nephew, giving the former barely enough to support his large family despite the work he does. His redemption: after seeing where his life went wrong, so to speak, and how his actions impact his present and his future, he decides to become kinder and more generous with his money and affection, making sure Tiny Tim receives the care needed so he lives to grow up.

[matherofdragons]

Someone compared the rat catchers death to a company shooting when only one person was guilty of illegal thing. Have people lost their common sense? Hotd is set in pseudo Middle ages. You can't view a show set so far in the past through modern lenses.

A prince was brutally murdered. Said prince was a mare child. Son of a woman beloved by the commonfolk. Brutally killed by a rat catcher. In the scene it looked like Aegon killed like 10 people. The Smallfolk should have been cheering. Their prince's murderer was brought to justice. Yet what we saw was the complete opposite. You can argue Aegon has killed innocent people, but those people knew the castle well. Better be safe than sorry. If I were Aegon I would have killed way more but that won't bring Jaeharys back. Yet it will make the pain go away at least slightly.

This act was deemed monstrous. Yet when Daemon was killing people left and right there was no unrest. When Rhaenys pulled her stunt there were no riots against the Blacks. The show is very clear in what it wants the audience to feel and if you are gullible enough to follow the flock like a sheep I pity you.

The fact that Otto had the sheer audacity to berate Aegon, a grieving father, for this pissed me off. No one was mad at B&C. The actors had to ask on their knees for a scene of Helaena and Aegon. And the spoilers are not any better. I am disappointed at what it is to come.

Bonus is what happened in the book?

Every time you see blacks being treated as holy saints and the greens shitted on, remember you aren't the targeted audience. Because Blacks can't do no wrong.

Daemon grooming his child niece? Romantic.

Rhaenyra using Cole as her toy? Romantic, as she can do no bad.

Rhaenyra asking for Aemond to be tortured? He called her son a bastard, how dare he? He lost an eye and his father ignored his suffering but he was a good father, that's what you are supposed to interpreted. You are supposed to miss Vizzy T despite him butchering his wife, despite the blatant favourism he shows towards Rhaenyra. You are meant to forget how bad of a father he was. They didn't even allow him to be a good grandfather to Helaena and Aegon's children. How many of you actually realised those two were married and had kids? Why was Heleana shown as an indifferent mother to her kids? To make the impact of B&C lesser despite it being in top 5 most brutal things in Westerosi history.

The murder of an innocent to get rid of Leanor? Completely forgotten, what is a lowly servant anyway? But they had to add Aegon raping maids, they had to add Rhaenyra being nice to her maid. See that's the person you should follow. I just know they won't add her hatred towards Ser Adam, why? Because it would ruin the saintly image you should have of her.

Her complete lack of consciousness towards duty and responsibility? You see she's actually very competent she's reading books. I bet they won't show her starving the smallfolk. No it would be Actually Aegon who does it, because he's the bad guy.

I am so done.

[muffinsin]

Seeing @donnabenevientosimpingzone’s redraw of their beauty and the beast AU got me thinking about reader as beauty with the beast Dimitrescu sisters! What about your thoughts?

- AK Anon

Let’s goooooo!!🙌 Yes!!!

Masterlists

Bela

She remembers the day she was cursed vividly, though would not admit so

In fact, she barely comes across as emotional at all

She shows no excitement, love, care or admiration unless she is with her sisters

She works hard, yet is all too aware of the curse wrapped tightly around her

The appearance of a beast to match the cold, ruthless one within, it was said

She refused to fall in love, and this is her punishment

Alas, she still doesn’t look for one

She avoids all mirrors, yet also all chances of love

She is aware of the rose petals slowly falling, and yet, merely watches them sink to the table top

It’s inevitable, she insists

Bela snarls angrily when her sisters and mother attempt to find her a lover, anybody, merely to break the curse

In the end, it seems to be in vain. She doesn’t want to fall in love

At least like this, she is strong enough to provide for her family

Hideous and lonely, but useful and caring for them, she thinks bitterly every so often

She refuses to let the witch that has cursed her win out in the end. She will not fall in love. She refuses to

As the apparent last year of her life comes around, however, things change slightly

With the petals of the preserved rose falling more and more, and only a few little ones still blooming, it becomes clear: this will be Bela’s last winter

She is given an own section of the castle, a retreat. She would not want her family finding her dead and beaten

What she did not expect, however, was you

You, who so innocently saw one of the flowers she took to planting and admiring each day

You, who childishly picked one, and another, and another

You, who foolishly entered her home without invitation

She considers your fate for a couple of moments. She doesn’t feel like having company, despite her promise to her family

Alas, you smell tempting, and she is starving

She decides to keep you. For food, at first

You notice too late that you are now in the beast’s grasp. Doors are locked. Windows are shut. Gates are closed. There is no escape

You have not yet seen your captor

At first, she intends to eat you. To make a fine meal out of you

However, she just…can’t

Not when she glances at the portrait of her family at the wall of the main hall, her eyes finding Daniela’s bright golden ones

She remembers, she has promised her youngest sister she would give love a chance in these last four months of her life

That she would not turn her back on people in these last months

She sighs, but allows you to breathe and live yet another day. And another. And another after

You’re given a chamber to reside in until her demise

After this, you are set free, she promises

She doesn’t treat you unfairly, you notice very early on

You are a prisoner, but are not under the threat of being harmed. In fact, it seems both of you are just waiting out the time it takes for her to perish

She’s open regarding this

She tells you, you will be set free upon her death. She tells you, this death will come in only mere months

You are only to follow strict rules- as is she. Rules set by her sister that even Bela is bound to

Mealtimes spent together, goodnights and good mornings, at least an hour per day of spending quality time together

At first, you can only see the beast. The fur and monstrous claws, the flesh between her teeth at mealtimes. You realise soon, somewhere within this beast lies a person. A woman

A surprisingly intelligent and mature one

She doesn’t lash out at you when you attempt to escape, merely points out there is no escape just yet

And in time, you no longer attempt to escape. You see it is futile, yes, but most of all: not necessarily. You know she will keep her promise

Bela doesn’t get angry when you refuse eating meals together, and equally doesn’t get angry when you do join her and show clumsiness with the cutlery

You notice, she must be a noble. To have been raised as one, rather than merely residing in the large manor

She knows which fork to use for what. She sits straight and upright, her head held high despite her appearance. She screams royalty effortlessly

You wonder, however- has she always been this way? This- inhuman

When you ask her, she is surprisingly open about it, and when she points out the blonde woman on the large portrait in the main hall, you can’t believe your eyes at first

She used to be beautiful…and oddly enough- she still is

Even as she no longer has the human-like appearance she used to have

Still, you recognize the same, piercing, golden eyes

The same blonde of her hair, now fur that stretches across her body

The very same necklace with the embedded red gemstone that still sits snugly around her throat

And lastly, the same rose tattoo decorating her forehead

She tells you of the curse, even the rose indicating how much time it left

You shiver, knowing her time is running out

As you begin spending time with her, you notice yourself falling

Yet- you can’t be sure she feels the same. She seems to have a brick wall set up around her, unable to let you in or allow her any escape

And at first, you don’t mind. You merely wait out the time

Yet…in time she becomes so…curious

A month passes and you know not many are to follow

If she is to die, you want to know who she is. Who this beautiful woman is and was

You intend to break it down her walls

In time, you find out there is more to her than she likes to let on

You find a way to bond. A tiny hole in the cement bricks her walls are made of, allowing you to slip through enough to see her

You find out- Bela loves to read and write. And as much as she attempts to fight it, this allows a connection

Such as the small, almost shy smile when you find out about her favourite books and quote from them throughout the day

You notice it, even as it only lasts a few seconds before she hurriedly wipes it off her lips again

In time, she doesn’t bother hiding it again

She is perceptive, and you find yourself having your favourite food more and more often

Your hourly time together increases, so that nearly all evenings are spent together

You’re reading together in the library. Sometimes out loud to one another, sometimes quietly on your own, yet within each other’s company

Within another few weeks, she begins to warm up to you

She cuddles up to you when you read to her

In return, you hold her as tight as you can

With the last month drawing near its end, you both become more and more tense

You want to save her

And Bela? She didn’t believe she would ever yearn to be saved

She’s scared to make a move first. She knows, to break the curse, love must come from you

She’s worried initiating things will make your feelings less genuine

Alas, it is one day she rests in your arms, her eyes closed, a relaxed smile played on her lips

She listens as you read from her favourite book, your voice smooth and trained from having done this so often already

When you look down, you can’t help but allow your gaze to linger on her face a little longer than normal

You take her in, her beautiful features and the soft fur decorating her body due to the curse

You trace the one on her cheek, a soft blush on your face when her golden eyes snap open and find yours

Her lips are parted, as though inviting you in

Gently, you raise her head up, and even more so, you brush your lips against hers

You gasp when she suddenly pulls away, an apology ready to tumble from your lips

Yet, it isn’t the kiss that made her pull away, but rather the warm light seemingly coming from her

She’s gasping loudly, her eyes pressing shut and hands raising as though to protect herself

You watch as paws with claws turn to gentle, petite hands and soft palms, thin fingers with black painted, sharp nails

Fur is turned to soft, pale skin

A petite nose, even fuller, pinker lips

No longer does blonde hair cover her, but merely the hair on top of her head. You take in its sight, the way it perfectly descends on her shoulders and down her back

Her eyes, golden as they were in her beast form, shine bright for you

They glisten with tears, as do yours

This time, she doesn’t hold back

She runs to you, her human arms wrapping around you, her lips, warm and soft, pressing against yours

You smile into the kiss, at last content with the knowledge that you will not lose her to time

Cassandra

She doesn’t believe in witchcraft, in curses, in true love

When she is given a chance to apologise and make things right, lest she will face “consequences”, she laughs in the hag’s face

In a split second, she is transformed, and she is forced to believe in all she thought was false

Only days later can she comprehend what happened, long after

When fur covers her body, her precise fingers replaced by large paws, her lethal nails now truly claws

When she wakes up a week after, she finds a single red rose on her nightstand, a note underneath explaining the flower’s petals signal her remaining life span

She doesn’t believe it, naturally, despite her beastly form

In fact, she laughs, her hand clasping around the flower and squeezing

Cassandra screams at the sudden pain in her chest. She immediately knows, this is real

By the time Alcina, Bela and Daniela rush into her room, the lies on the floor, clutching her chest and the flower

Eighteen or so petals lie dead on the floor, already curled in on itself after her assault

Only fifteen remain. One for a day? For a month? For a year? For a century?

No one dares guess

Yet, as flowers fall every few weeks, worry rises

It’s made clear, Cassandra must find her true love

The thought itself would have made her laugh before all of this

And somehow, it still does

She would rather die than fall in love again, she’s certain. Death can not betray her the same way love has in the past

Alas, she doesn’t even consider it

No amount of scolding and raging from Alcina, no amount of reasoning from Bela, and no amount of sheer begging from Daniela has her see reason

She refuses to even give it a try

Suitors chosen by her family are turned down and devoured with a smile on her face

Maidens and other staff members brave enough to make a move are used as playthings in the basement

She acts like she doesn’t mind her new form

And she doesn’t, not fully at least. She is even stronger, faster, and looks more intimidating than ever

Naturally, the huntress enjoys this

However, she is not oblivious to the comments made about her, nor the ones she existing and forming anew every morning when she catches her reflection in the mirror

She truly looks like the monster all make her out to be, now. All see the monster she apparently is, now

All, but you

You see the woman within

You remember her vibrant, loud laughter through the halls

You remember the sadistic joy in her eyes whenever you finished polishing her sickle. Sharp, and clean, ready to taste blood again

You wonder- are you a monster too- for smiling at the memory of her proud, self satisfied smirk upon presenting her bloodied sickle to you again

Yet- she is changed now. You don’t know what happened, only that something happened

She is covered in fur, her appearance beast-like

Even sharper teeth than normal. Even louder snarls and growls

More muscles, even sharper nails. No, claws, now

And, of course, the horns stemming from her head. Ready to impale, at all times intimidating those around her

Yet, the same stunning, golden eyes…

The same smile as she snarls, the same hunger and anger, the same stubbornness and sadistic humour

You can’t help but ask yourself; what happened to the beautiful huntress?

Has she encountered prey that is not so easily slain, at last?

Has she, as you knew she eventually would, made an enemy too powerful?

As the one tasked with nearly all concerning her weapons, the two of you used to be quite close

Now, not even you know what happened to the beauty

You’re determined to find out. You- care for her- you fancy her- you come to realise

And you’re not fighting such thoughts

Alas, you do find yourself surprised when you make moves and are not immediately torn to pieces by another family member

Everyone at the castle knows just how protective they are of one another

Getting close to one without gaining another’s attention and feeling their watchful eye on one’s back is impossible

Yet- no knife comes to your neck when you serve Cassandra her dinner plate and leave it with the smallest of flowers, made of smooth, beautiful metal, something you specifically asked the duke to get

And Cassandra? She has the cutest expressions you’ve ever seen her have. In the next moment it’s gone, as she snarls and digs into her food like an animal would

It seems, she doesn’t quite get the hint

You don’t mind. Years of being with her allow you to know bits and pieces of what she’s like

You have learned she appreciates bold honesty, and that’s exactly what you’re going with

So when she swarms to you, her entire front covered in blood, and reaches her hand paw out to grasp the next weapon, polished and sharp, your voice stops her in her tracks

You confess, you’re thinking inappropriately of her

Not the way one should be thinking of one of the ladies of the house

She seems to brush it off with laughter, and you frown

Did she not understand?

You mentally face palm at your mistake. No, unlike others, you not only crave her for sex. You decide to specify

“I have been thinking of kissing you and holding your hand” you admit instead

You watch her golden eyes widen, then gasp in surprise when her clawed paw comes down on the wooden table between you

She snarls, and in an instant, she is off

What?

Seemingly unreciprocated as it is, you would have thought she’d kill you on the spot

And perhaps she would’ve, if she didn’t like you, and if it wasn’t for the promise made to her family. Yes, she was avoiding love. But she wasn’t allowed to kill it

At first, you find yourself discouraged to court her. She didn’t seem interested in your approach

This is, however, until you receive an order from lady Daniela to retrieve candy from the village, where she suggests picking up a dagger for Cassandra, too

Yet, the cherry on top is an order from lady Bela herself, an order to clean the training hall. Right as Cassandra seemed to be using it

You watch her for a mere moment, punching and slicing, moving fast around the dummy

Then, you clear your throat to let her know of your presence. You doubt she would’ve been oblivious to it for long

As subtly instructed by her sisters, you hand the beastly beauty the dagger found and retrieved in the village

Her eyes practically shine at the sight. Sharp, curved. Little, yellow gemstones embedded in the side of the handle

She picks it up and you shriek when she swipes it across your cheek. A light touch is enough for blood to spill and your heart to race

Still, you stand perfectly clear when a long, strong tongue darts out and licks the blood from your cheek

Cassandra’s body pressed against your smaller one, her fur tickling your skin

You feel almost lightheaded, this close to her. If you tried, you could wrap your arm around her

Then, the moment passes, when she moves back and- to your surprise- bows her head slightly, just a mere moment, before she swarms off

A thank you

In the following weeks, you keep spending time with her. She barely seeks you out, and you see the stubborn walls built tightly around her

Yet- she feels them break, slowly, no matter how fast she attempts to put them back up

She craves your attention and is ruthlessly jealous towards all showing you theirs, or daring to take yours from her

You begin spending time together nearly every day

She is with you when you work her weapons, occasionally snarling when she wants you to sharpen one even more, or purring contentedly when she thinks of a job well done

You bring her daggers, and in return, she brings you trophies from her hunts

Often, this has allowed you to have a wonderful dinner

It’s rare the staff gets any meat, so you quickly begin to feel proud when you’re able to fix yourself something up using the venison and such she brings you

At nighttime, you’re aware of her form occasionally slipping in your room, as if to check up on you

You never expose or stop her; even leave out a bite or two from your food

You make sure you leave her raw flesh, knowing she enjoys it better

You are still blissfully unaware of the flower, until one day you make your way to the armoury and- to your surprise- find her on the ground

As you rush over, she is panting heavily, her eyes barely open, her paw-like hands trembling, her lips parted and letting out small, sharp whines and whimpers

She lies there like a wounded animal when you sink to the ground and pull her head onto your lap. Immediately, she turns to you, weak, yet alert

In her hand, she is clutching a single flower

A red rose, with merely a single petal hanging on to it

You don’t understand

She’s shaking, as though crying in your arms. You don’t understand she is scared, this close to death

Still, you attempt to comfort her

“I’m here, Milady”, you promise, and with intentions innocent, yet loving, you press a single kiss to her forehead

You gasp when the dark room is finally lit up by the sun-like light surrounding her

She’s gasping, her eyes wide when she breathes even when the last flower petal falls and sinks to the stony floor

Your eyes press shut in an instant when the light subsides, a fierce blush on your cheeks and the image before you burned into your mind. You’re not complaining in the slightest

Fur and beastly features have been replaced. Her large, paw-like hands have returned to scarred palms and strong fingers, smooth skin and decently muscular arms

Her hair, on top of her head, is wild and caressed her skin as she lies on you, shivering in her naked form on the stony ground, her arms pulled to her chest to cover herself, her legs tucked in for the same purpose

You remember the sight of smooth, pale skin, scarred here and there, bruised at parts, but beautiful nonetheless. Smooth legs, slim hips, a bellybutton and her abdomen, her fleshy thighs all seen in the second it took until your eyes slipped shut

You hum when, suddenly, you feel her lips against yours again, yet can’t at all help but smile into the kiss

It seems, the curse has been broken

Daniela

She’s always been into fairytales. Princes and princesses, dragons, thieves, empresses, pirates, gnomes, witches, beasts

Just- she never assumed she would live one

When approached by an old, hooded man, she doesn’t bother hiding her disgust

How’d that get into the castle? Mother always keeps them away

She shudders when the figure stretches out his hand, his fingers bony, his weak smile hidden in the shadow of his grey, dirty hood

Held between his fingers, a single rose, clasped, so no thorns are left on it

Daniela grimaces

She has been taught not to take things a man-thing offers

Such an odd, mysterious looking one, too

She declines, her grimace turning into loud laughter when the man stretches out his arm, as though asking her to reconsider

Then, mood strikes her again. She didn’t even notice her sickle appearing next to her, nor how she gripped it until she brought it down on the man already

Only, it didn’t slice. No blood, merely fog, and light, by far too much of it

Before she could even tell what happened, her vision became blurry already

Upon waking up, the curse was bestowed on her

Her flesh transformed, her frame larger and beastly, furry with sharp horns sticking from her and her petite fingers transformed into monstrous, large, paw-like hands with sharp claws

Her teeth, small fangs replaced with larger ones, her tongue large and foreign in her mouth

A tail, growing from her, wrapped around her protectively

She whimpers, then screams for her sisters and mother

As they arrive, all words die on their tongues

Their eyes are wide and horrified, their brains jumping to attempt to understand the situation, the appearance of the youngest Dimitrescu

In her hand, a single rose and a letter

Even in time, she can’t get accustomed to her appearance

All mirrors are removed in her rooms, she doesn’t even dare meet her reflection in the bathtub

And still, she is overly aware of it all. How difficult it is to speak, how very different her body is

How she is looked at…what they say behind her back, thinking she can’t hear

She is moved out of the castle, and to Donna’s lands. The flower is handed to her, to study, and as payment, while Daniela resides in a manor in the woods

By herself, where no one but her can remind her of all this

At least, that is the plan. Was. A plan that changed when she first spots you pick a flower of her garden, then- to her horror- push open the heavy doors leading inside

“Hello?”

The phrase seems to almost echo in the hall, and makes her flinch. Before, she would have been thrilled about company. Now…

She yearns for company, still, there is no doubt about that. Yet..a glance down at her paw-like hands and furry arms has her think better than to show herself

“G’o”, she demands, her voice quivering, unused

You merely whip around, as though trying to find where the beautiful voice is coming from

When you take a step in her direction, she immediately backs up. She can’t let you spot her this way! How did you even get past Donna in the first place!

“Go!”, she pleads again, her voice a little stronger this time

You stop dead in your tracks, a small frown on your face. Go? Why?

As you ask her just that, her breathing grows heavier

“There’s a beast”, she answers

You frown again. A lycan, perhaps? Is it keeping the woman with the beautiful voice a prisoner? Why? You’ve never known a lycan to do such a thing

“Can I stay?”

She nearly whimpers, torn

She yearns for company, for you. For a piece of herself again. And yet…you will be just like everyone else upon discovering her truth

“Make sure the monster doesn’t find you. Stay away and hidden”, she says instead, doing her very best to keep an animalistic growl and purr back

And you take her advice to heart. You stay out of sight, your head ducked even when you can’t spot the trace of a monster

At nighttime, you hear the lovely voice of the woman through a closed, wooden door

You knock, and smile as you hear a gasp from the inside. Then, however, your breath hitches at the other sound coming from the room

A growl, animalistic, loud

Is the beast with the beauty? Right this moment? Keeping her in there? Terrifying her?

You’re not sure where your sudden rush of adrenaline comes from, yet you suddenly find yourself gripping the handle and pushing the wooden door open

You’re faced with what you believe must be the beast she spoke of

Large, with furry ears and blackened horns, sharp, threatening fangs and claws

Yet, the sweetest, most human shriek falls from the creature’s lips at your sudden intrusion

You see the truth in an instant. This is the woman talking to you upon your arrival

Immediately, you feel as though intruding. Yet, you can’t move from the spot, her gaze strong, but gentle

In a split second of vulnerability, she allows you to see it all

Her pain, her humanity, her hunger for blood, the beast in her, the love and passion, the yearning, the care, the playfulness, the loneliness

When you step closer to her, she doesn’t know what to expect

She closes her eyes and wonders; will you strike her down? Like the beast she is, or rather, looks?

No such thing happens

Instead, she shivers when she feels your hands thread through the fur covering her cheeks, all the way up to her furry, soft ears

She can’t help but purr at the feeling, her face feeling warm

You work carefully with her, as though exploring the strange woman’s body and nature

When hesitant, golden eyes meet yours, they widen immediately at the care they find in yours

You must love her! Right? You’re the one to break the curse! True love! It must be!

As she suddenly leans forwards and you feel oddly soft lips press against yours, you shriek in surprise

Her expression turns to a hurt, almost disappointed one when you pull back

No magic? But- you must be the one! You must free her of this!

It seems, her expression tells you her thoughts

Still- you don’t leave. And she doesn’t make you

In the weeks to come, you find out just how clingy the company-deprived woman is

She spends all her time with you, should you grant her this

Meals are eaten together. At first, she attempts human food

Soon after, you encourage her to eat properly, and smile at the mess she creates devouring her meal right from the plate, no utensils needed, nor able to be used by her large, claw-like fingers

She spends her days with you, showing you the manor and its many rooms

The library, the opera hall, the bedrooms, the kitchen, the large garden

Upon entering a greenhouse, you notice the many sketches of a rose pinned to a part of the wall

She explains the curse, all too eager to be open with you about this. It feels far too good to allow all of it out

As she talks, she feels the weight slip off her shoulders

You understand her, somehow

In such short time, the cursed beauty has dug her way to your heart, and now seems to be fully taking it up

Before you know it, you sleep comfortably in her arms, and keep her head nestled on your stomach at night

She’s close to you, the low rumble of her purrs lulling you to sleep

She radiates warmth, while you eagerly suck it up

As months pass, you grow closer and closer together

You take her out on dates, even as neither of you calls them that

You spend day and night together, your fingers entangled in her fur, her clawed hand gently caressing you as much as she can

The more time passes, the larger the urge to kiss her. It nearly overcomes you sometimes

You wonder- how do her lips taste? You sometimes still feel the ghostly touch of them on you from when she has kissed you months ago

You hunt together sometimes, and you help her prepare the food and try it in new, different ways

You encourage her about her appearance, and smile whenever you hear her laughter when she is dressed loosely in beautiful gowns

You watch the stars together and enjoy candlelit dinners

You paint, she watches. She dances, clumsily, in such her current form, while you sing along

As she whirls and jumps, laughs and giggles, you can’t help but snake your way past the chairs and piano, right to her

She gasps when you clasp her large hand, mindful of the sharp claws adorning her fingers

When you whirl her around, she laughs, vibrant and happy

You allow her to move a little more, your smile matching her wide one

When she whirls back around to you, you grasp her furry cheeks gently. You feel the soft hair under your fingertips

When you lean in and your lips touch, you nearly gasp at the electricity between the two of you

She gasps as she pulls away, her arms stretched out, her golden eyes wide as she watches with wonder

Her fingers transform first, huge claws replaced by sharp fingernails painted a deep red, connected to soft flesh and pale, petite fingers that stem from a soft palm

Her arms are next, no longer furry, but pale and nearly grey, shivers overtaking her skin

Next is her chest, and you hurriedly supply her with your vest to wrap around her

Yet, it’s her face that has your breath hitch

Soft, round features

A gentle chin, and full, soft cheeks

Kissable lips, painted pink

A button nose

And lastly, her stunning, golden eyes

You smile widely at her

Big appreciation to @darkittensniper for supplying me with music and good soup while writing this🙌 ur the best, Mother

[the-real-sasuke-uchiha]

Not sure if you have done this before, but thoughts on Itachi?

Hi there! Uf, tough question with a lot of chances of bringing us hate, but, let's be brave! As a very obvious disclaimer, please bear in mind that you can love a character and still justify none of its actions. And that trying to understand what led someone to do something is by no means equal to trying to justify them.

Itachi committed a monstrous action exterminating his clan, there is no denying that. Still, I refuse to dump all the blame on him because he was used as a mere tool to fulfil the genocidal plans of Konoha's oligarchy. This issue was extensively discussed before in way more eloquent ways than I ever could so, I will just point out that Itachi was a traumatized child, educated in violence, trained for violence and encouraged to master his talent for violence by literally everyone in his life. Violence was his only tool, the only thing he was good at, and the only means to solve problems in the world he lived in.

He was given an impossible choice and he had to decide quickly and under duress. He was gifted, but still a child, and thus immature. He had obviously no capacity or possibility to solve such a conflict. He was given a choice of killing his clan quietly or risking a catastrophe that would lead to his brother's death (or, rather, he was straight out threatened with the assassination of his little brother by the village's leadership). Now, I of course believe such things were nonsense and that the uprising of the Uchiha didn't necessarily have to lead to a war. And, even if it did, there were plenty other means to avoid it. I also would have taken my brother with me and run, let hell unleash or whatever, before harming a single member of my family. But I am not a manipulated child soldier growing under a military regime that has traumatized me with war and brainwashed me since birth, so, what do I know.

I think I also take issue with Itachi being solely and mainly blamed for the massacre, because it personalizes in him an oppression that was systemic. The leadership of Konoha was determined to exterminate the Uchiha and had been establishing the bases for a genocide for at least two generations. The Uchiha had been racially profiled, discriminated, denied of civil rights, physically segregated, kept under surveillance, relegated to a specific job, and pseudoscientific theories had been formulated to justify their inadequacy for leadership as an excuse to exclude them from political decisions and important roles in the village they co-founded. Tobirama's political heirs in the council happily proposed a genocide with petty opposition form the highest political authority, with the sole excuse of keeping all power to themselves. Using Itachi, a member of the oppressed group, to do the dirty job for them, is just an additional level of atrocity. Having Itachi embody all the evilness is, I believe, a misinterpretation of the whole issue here and also kind of victim blaming.

In this line, I would like to point out something that I believe is important: Itachi won nothing from the massacre. He obtained no privilege, no reward at al. He remained excluded and powerless, he took all the blame and all the bad consequences, suffered an illness in silence and with no help from Konoha, and died as a villain getting nothing in return but hope that his brother would survive the vultures that would be forever after him. While the orchestrators of the genocide kept their power and privileges and took no damage, and even got to have the sole survivors of the Uchiha serving them like loyal pawns. I think it is easy to figure out who is really to blame and who is just an alienated useful tool.

Having said that, I don't think he was retconed, but, as a criticism for the creators, I believe they overdid his evil phase a bit. There is little justification for the torture he inflicted on Kakashi (I am not too sorry for him, I just think that 5 minutes of genjutsu torture would have been enough for Itachi to maintain his bad guy cover, he didn't need 72 hours unless he had a true personal reason for punishing him) or for torturing his little brother twice (I can see he wanted to make sure he was hated, but there were other ways, he certainly went too far). No wonder some fans believe he was retconed taking these things into account. I can only interpret that, after all the violence he went through, Itachi was sort of desensitized to it. Still, he left his brother, the person he loved most in the world, severely incapacitated (only Tsunade was able to heal him, and Itachi couldn't have foreseen that she would go back to Konoha. Had he not enough experience with Tsukuyomi and severely underestimated its consequences?). There is little explanation for this.

Now, what I find really curious and disappointing here, is that the narrative could never allow Itachi to acknowledge that the Uchiha were right or, at least, that the genocide was unjustifiable. But he is a good guy so, of course he has to show remorse. So, he is certainly suffering from what he did, he loved his family and feels extremely remorseful. But, for being so clever, he regrets absurd things. "I tried to do everything alone", well, Itachi, you were alone and that was not your fault. Is not like you could summon your anbu colleagues and propose a poll to decide what you should do with Danzo's orders. "I was arrogant", like, when did that happen? "I treated you like a child", well, because, he was a child? "I should have involved you, you could have changed the Uchiha" really? involve a 7 year old child? sure he would have been able to convince his family to just endure, why not. All so he wouldn't say the quiet part out loud. Konoha was a genocidal regime and the sole wrong thing here was annihilating the Uchiha, which he did because he was given no choice and, as a child, he was incapable of finding another way. That was probably asking too much of this story, where the military dictators are basically the good guys and their moral is sacrificing their family for the state.

Another funny thing I would like to mention is how Itachi talks about the Uchiha in the edo tensei arc. I talked about this before, but it is as if he was fed and believed all possible nonsensical Uchiha-hating stories:

I understand the message we are trying to convey here. The Uchiha were power-thirsty mean people, see, the genocide was justified. But it doesn't make sense. Assuming every person has two sharingans (Danzo and his sick experiments aside), there is zero possibility for that "endless reworkings" situation. Also, the Uchiha needed a jutsu to keep themselves humble and honorable, because the izanagi was so dishonorable (we only saw it used once in a repetitive, sick way in canon, and it was by Danzo, but whatever). As if the Uchiha are the ones that need to keep their humbleness in check because they have tendencies to do megalomaniac things like hoarding power, accumulating and trading with mass destruction weapons, carving their faces in stone, or commissioning crazy big statues to commemorate their victorious fights. Even when stating that the Uchiha created a jutsu themselves to solve a problem they had among themselves and that never threatened any outsider, they are presented as some irrational, greedy people.

So, in conclusion, Itachi could have been wrong and biased, but he very clearly did not want to be the execution hand of a genocide, he did not hate his clan and he deeply loved his family. But sadly, we have to admit, he was strongly manipulated by Konoha's nationalistic bullshit and died twice with intact and convinced loyalty for Konoha. There is no denying that. However, I take issue when he is framed as a soulless Konoha bootlicker, because he was ready to leak any information he had on Konoha should they do anything to Sasuke, ready to help enemy nations and unleash the war and bloodshed he was trying to avoid with the massacre. He was canonically doing everything to ensure Sasuke's safety, not for Konoha.

In summary, for me, Itachi is a complex character whose contradictions are left unresolved in the narrative because the deranged moral of the story is, sadly, that there are circumstances where a genocide can be justified. And still, I can't help but love this character, mostly because Sasuke loves him so greatly. And Itachi was ready to give up everything for Sasuke, even Konoha and the whole ninja world. I like to believe that this is evidence that the "will of fire" cult didn't win completely with him, and that, ever after betraying his clan, he still kept some of that unfathomable and unconditional love for his family that Konoha could not tolerate in the Uchiha.

[rabbiteclair]

more Girls' Last Tour thoughts, which are admittedly mostly thoughts I had for the first time about five years ago only to resurface today upon having a long conversation about the series with a friend. this one is fully spoiler-y

as far as emotional suckerpunches go, I personally think it's like... [the entire Silence chapter] > [Chito's breakdown after she realizes the Kettenkrad's bricked] > [the end of the Art chapter] > [the end of the Life chapter] > 'the planet will finish life's long work and go to sleep as well' > [the actual end of the series]. This isn't a criticism of it, since I really like the end. I just find it kinda funny.

similarly I find it funny that this series, where every named character is strongly implied to die either during or shortly after its events, which is about 40% ruminations on death, containing the line "currently, you two are the only surviving humans of whom we are aware," is categorized as an Iyashikei. H E A L I N G. I mean I don't even necessarily disagree but goddamn.

One of the core dichotomies of the series, I think, is... it repeatedly makes it clear that people have done horrible things here, and the amount of deliberate destruction that's gone on is absolutely monstrous. They stumble onto nukes and giant war robots that can blow up a city, and there are destroyed tanks and giant craters everywhere. Basically everywhere they go is a former war zone. But it takes a really positive view of humanity. Outside of the attack on their hometown in the flashback, every single person they meet is nice and helpful. Any time it delves into human nature, the message is 'actually humans are pretty cool most of the time, and our basic drive is to take care of each other, not this survival of the fittest bullshit.'

which is one thing that I think sets it apart from a lot of fiction in this space? It never tries any kind of 'humanity is doomed in the long run because we're all violent animals beneath the facade of civilization' message or anything. Humanity rules, and it's a genuine tragedy that things have come to this.

kinda related, the series does a lot to make it clear how all of this is an unfathomably large tragedy. There are tons of background shots of entire abandoned cityscapes, there's the chapter with the mass grave, the gigantic library full of books, and so on. The actual scale of 'no, really, everyone and everything has an end sooner or later' gets driven in repeatedly. At the same time, it spends a lot of time on how something as small as destroying a single diary can be a tragedy in its own right, too. I guess I'm just kinda used to media that takes that kind of grand high-level view dismissing the small stuff as trite and unimportant when we could be putting up another number with lots of zeroes to say how many people died.

there are a lot of different ideas floating around on things like what it all means in the end, and whether it's meaningful to leave anything behind. The AI is overjoyed when she gets her chance for oblivion. The people in the graveyard have a statue to watch over them. Chito's attempt to leave something in the form of her diary is ultimately futile, and while she learns to find other meaning, destroying her diary and the books still isn't portrayed as a good thing. Other people are recorded forever in images and videos, and it's wonderful. Ultimately I don't think there's any one answer or message. Keeping with the general existentialist kinda themes, what matters is what the people involved find meaningful in that context, but that drive to create and preserve meaning for the future is both universal and noble.

while there's a lot to be said about the visuals overall... the fact that basically the only thing on the upper layer is a spiral staircase leading up into the air with no destination sure is some symbolism, huh.

similarly, while it wouldn't change the events any, symbolically I think it's very important that their long, ultimately pointless meandering journey that ends in death was upward, not downward.

on another level, though, it's kinda implied that the higher strata are newer/more recently maintained. So it's also essentially them moving through (and revisiting a lot of) human history to take their position at the very end.

Yuu's gun is never used for anything but target practice, and then she chucks it aside as soon as it's too much effort to carry. They use an old tank for a shower. They find a working military sub with nukes inside, and it's only useful because there's chocolate and a way to look at the storage on a camera. The one time they really fire a weapon, it's horrible, and the one thing they kill is portrayed as a tragedy. Even their helmets are mostly a running joke of 'oh my helmet totally would've stopped that falling building.' For a series that includes a lot of military stuff, it regards military stuff somewhere between 'disdain' and 'indifference.' Very 'the world is ending and you think a rocket launcher is going to be useful? Put that thing down and help me look for food.'

that said, the choice to give them a vehicle from WW2-era Germany is still a pretty damn unfortunate one. Considering the series's consistent stance against violence, disinterest in war, and casually disdainful treatment of weapons and military stuff, I'm comfortable saying that Tsukumizu almost certainly isn't a closet nazi, but still. At best it gives the wrong impression to anybody who hasn't gotten about a dozen chapters in and started thinking about the themes, and there's nothing the themes do with it that wouldn't work basically as well with any other military transport anyway.

the fungus things apparently being the inspiration for the god statues is clear enough, but just what their deal is remains surprisingly undefined. I've always figured they were genetically engineered or something, made specifically to clean up the environment. Which is itself a hell of a thing if so, deifying the creatures that basically symbolize 'maybe we can undo the harm we've done, and if that takes longer than we live, at least we'll leave something behind.'

I really don't know how to feel about the whole Shimeji Simulation connection. (if you aren't familiar) On one hand I feel like it undermines a lot of the series' messages to go 'oh but just kidding, everyone's fine and nobody really dies for good.' On the other hand, as somebody who's read/watched through the series about half a dozen times and really marinated in the despair, my primary immediate reaction is 'oh thank god they absolutely deserve this.' And it isn't like I haven't written multiple stories about characters embracing their imminent demise only to turn out okay against all odds in the epilogue.

Yuu's gay little run. this is still a thought

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Yandere Wolverine (X men Evolution) and child reader who was created using his dna

Oh! Like Laura/X-23! Oh man oh man, this is gonna be good! Let's begin:

He didn't know about Reader until he'd defeated the scientist who'd tried to control him.

It started with a file he managed to snag from the wreckage.

It only held small bits of information, a renewed project, a Weapon X-31...

He found out more when a scientist came to the Institute, specifically asking to speak with him. What they had to say made his blood boil. It made him feel sick. Bloodthirsty.

They had made a child, using HIS DNA. And they'd tried to make it into a weapon.

To say he almost killed then then was an understatement. It took everything in the Professor and Storm and Beast's powers to stop him from gutting the person where they stood. The only reason he kept them alive was because they had the knowledge he needed to find the kid.

They were held in a facility hidden in a snow-covered valley. The entire place reeked of chemicals and death. He didn't want to imagine how many people they made- how many they had killed. All to turn them into a controlled mutt they could sic on their enemies. The halls were painted with splatters of dark crimson and watering scarlet, blood and ichor filling the corridors along with the screams of those who had a hand in this monstrous affair.

And when he finds them... He freezes.

They're so...

Small.

Fragile.

They're tucked into the corner of a small room, hair scruffy and eyes downcast. The moment he moves in, they squeeze themself closer to the wall. It only makes his heart squeeze in pain.

"Hey, kid... 'M not gonna hurt ya..." he says quietly, sitting down in the doorway. He keeps his posture as relaxed as he can, keeps his scent calm and open. That seems to confuse them.

"They hurt ya... didn't they?"

He earns a small nod from them.

"They won't do it again. They're gone now."

They look up cautiously, like a scared animal cub, and sniff the air gently. For a minute they hesitate, then they scoot just a fraction closer.

"I made 'em pay for hurtin' ya... Me an' friends came here ta get ya. We want ta give ya a home," he tries, keeping his voice soft and steady.

"... You did?"

"Mhm. But, I need ta bring ya with me ta get ya back to our home. Would ya like ta come with us?" he asks. Their face is full of wonder, their eyes practically glowing.

"Yes, please..." they answer, voice small and hopeful.

"'Kay, kid... Let's get ya outta here," he says gently, then gets up. He walks over to them, and once in front of them, carefully puts his hands around them and picks them up, leaning then against his body. It makes his instincts purr when they relax into it, a tiny churr coming from the small bundle.

He covers their eyes, his hand nearly covering their whole head as they make their way out of the labs. The smell of iron is thick, but the kid has their face buried into his shoulder, and he keeps walking.

The moment they're out, he taps them lightly. "We're out now." The moment they hear that, they swivel their head around, taking in the wide world around them. A small gasp escapes them.

"It's so... big..." they whisper, and he can't help but smile a bit at their childish wonder.

"Well, it gets better from here. Let's take ya back home, 'kay, squirt? We need ta get ya some new clothes and a hot meal."

He makes himself a promise as they board the Blackbird, his kid still held securely in his arms: He's gonna do everything he can ta make them smile, and if ANYONE makes 'em cry or hurt ever again, he's gonna make sure they can't do it every again. No one messes with any of his pups, and those who do don't escape him.

[abla-soso]

I think that the only way Alicent would not be a complete fool in that reunion scene is if she genuinely believed Rhaenyra would have not targeted her sons if Alicent didn't usurpe the throne and she's only targeting them now because Alicent "forced" her by starting the war.

Except... even if Alicent blames herself for dooming her sons for death over nothing... how is she gonna atone for it by sending one of her sons to death? Like even if we accept that she was forced by Rhaenyra (and she was forced, make no mistake)... that scene was clearly framed as Alicent's "atonement". It was framed as a good thing. A "worthy" sacrifice. A "liberation". Alicent giving up someone she loves to stop the bloodshed and give back Rhaenyra's throne.

This is so... grotesque. It's beyond sick. It's genuinely evil to groom one child into fighting for their lives only to send them to the same person they feard all along and give them up as a sacrifial lamb to "atone" for something they didn't fucking chose.

The writers are expecting us to admire this monstrous choice and view it as "good", "worthy" and "liberating"???