#It is not my intention to leave her abandoned I really want to give more of Hoshi 😔

[cinnamonanie]

I was hoping to upload this a year after I joined the FFIV fandom…but I couldn’t wait any longer.

New Oc? Indeed, her name is Lyra and I have been creating her since September 2024, several things are still under construction such as her background and relationships. Until then, here are these sketches I made of her so as not to leave the introduction of this new character of mine so short ^^

I know FFIV only has White and Black Mages included, but…is it wrong if my Lyra is a Red Mage? I hope it's not a big problem :')

[juulessturn]

home late .

chris sturniolo x reader .

angsty (?) start , sweet ending , smutty everything else .

chris opened the front door and climbed the stairs. it had been a relatively fun, but long night with his friends. his girlfriend was on the couch, looking up at him as he walked in.

it was late– late enough that nick and matt were already asleep. for the past few months, his girlfriend had been more or less living with them. she still had her own place, but neither of them liked sleeping alone, so they always ended up together, no matter whose apartment it was.

he said that he wanted her to stay there but that he wouldn’t be home for most of the day. he promised to be back by midnight, give or take. by now it was well past that, his phone had died hours ago, and without a charger, he hadn’t been able to call or text, and she was pissed.

she didn’t say anything right away, just stared at him, eyebrows raised, arms crossed, the tv still playing something no one was really watching.

“my phone died,” he said quietly. “i couldn’t find a charger, i didn��t mean to disappear.” he walked closer to the couch.

she sighed  “you could’ve figured something out. borrowed one. asked someone. did you not want them to know i was waiting? because i was waiting.” her voice wasn’t loud, she didn’t like to yell, and even if she did, it was late, she was tired, and his brothers were asleep.

he nodded, running a hand through his hair as he sat down on the edge of the couch, leaving just enough space between them. “i didn’t think to ask someone, i’m sorry. that’s it though– there was a lot going on, it’s not like they don’t know we’re together.”

she rolled her eyes. “whatever.”

he got closer to her, his hand on her thigh. “‘m sorry.” he repeated. “really. it won’t happen again, i didn’t mean to upset you.” he moved his body down so he was looking up at her.

her eyes met his. “i know you didn’t.” she pursed her lips.

“i missed you.” he said, looking into her eyes intently.

“nice try.” she turned her face away from him.

“i did!” he said, sitting up, “was thinkin’ about you all daaay.”

she glanced at him from the corner of her eye, trying to hold onto the edge of her annoyance, but it was slipping fast. he saw it in the way her lips twitched, just slightly, like they couldn’t decide whether to stay firm or curve into a smile. she ran her tongue over her top teeth, her mouth remaining closed.

“yeah?” she asked, her voice cool but curious.

“yeah,” he nodded, edging even closer, bringing an arm over her shoulder.

she didn’t lean into him, but she didn’t refuse his arm around her. he took it as an okay to nuzzle his face in her neck, placing gentle kisses all around it. 

he hummed into her neck before he spoke. “love you.”

“i know, chris.” she said simply. he laughed softly and continued trailing kisses up her neck.

after a moment he spoke. “tell me you love me too,” he mumbled into her skin. he moved his kisses up to her ear. “please,” he whispered, almost whimpering.

“i- mm.” she gasped as he nipped at her earlobe. “chris-” she tried to speak but he spoke again before she could.

“i need to hear you say it, baby.” he whined.

“love you too.” she said immediately. he repositioned himself, bringing their lips together, his hands moved to her thighs and waist, the gentleness quickly being abandoned. 

chris moved closer so she was almost in his lap, their tongues intertwining, as her arms hung around his neck.

he pulled her fully onto his lap, his hands grabbing at her hips and ass, and his kisses becoming more urgent

“mmph-” she moaned into his mouth. “you want me, huh?” she breathed out between kisses. he let out a low, quiet, groan, moving his kisses back to her neck, sucking a bit.

“yes,” they were both breathless, but he promptly went back to working on her neck, his hands sliding under her shirt. “please. been wanting you all day..” he said, and her back moved against his hands, leaning into his touch.

she quirked a brow. “you haven’t even been here and you’ve been thinking about me?” 

he nodded. “can’t stop,” he said against her neck. “ever.”

she moved her hands to his face, pulling him to look at her. “aren’t you feeling sweet,” she hooked her right arm over him again and brought their faces back together. 

he smiled against her lips and deepend the kiss once again, rubbing his hands up and down her back. she brought her hand down to his dick and pressed him over his jeans.

he let out a soft gasp and leaned his head back a little, his breath catching in his throat. “oh fuck–” he managed to get out.

she chuckled at his reaction. he looked at her with wide eyes. “don’t laugh at me.” he whined, his breath quickening. as a response she continued pressing him, and he let out a low moan, only causing her to giggle again.

"stop– mm, stop laughing." he repeated, his body tense under her touch. every sound he made seemed to encourage her more, and he could see it in her eyes - she was enjoying this. as she continued her ministrations, pressing down harder. his head fell forward, resting on her shoulder as he groaned softly against her neck.

"i can't help it...," she whispered, her voice low and seductive. he could feel the heat radiating from her body, her breath soft and ticklish on his ear as she spoke. she continued to tease him, moving her hand excruciatingly slowly, and he could feel his self-control slipping.

just then, he suddenly picked her up, her arms instinctively wrapping around his neck for support. “chris!” the smirk on his face made her heart race.

“shh, baby, my brothers are asleep.” he covered her mouth with one hand as he carried her with the other, all the way to his room downstairs.

his door was open when they entered and he closed it with his foot, setting her down on the bed in an instant.

he leaned over her, his body caging her in. his hands roamed over her, tracing every curve with practiced ease.

he leaned down to her ear, his voice low and rough. "i want you. i need you. now." he was desperate. his hands moved back under her shirt, his touch leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

he brought his mouth to hers, the kiss filled with hunger and lust. his lips moved over hers, his tongue seeking entrance once again. she parted her lips for him, melting into the kiss, her hands tangling in his hair.

he broke the kiss only to remove her shirt, his eyes roaming over her bare skin with unabashed admiration. “shit, baby.” he breathed out, as if it were his first time seeing her.

she could feel his gaze on her, hot and heavy. his words went straight to her core, her body reacting instantly. he made her feel desired and wanted, and she loved every second of it. she needed more. he knew it,  and he gave it to her.

he moved his hand downwards, feeling her through her shorts, and when he pressed hard enough, he felt a subtle dampness. his eyes darkened at the discovery. she needed him just as badly as he needed her. he let out a sharp exhale, feeling the warmth under his fingers. "you're ready for me, huh?" he said, his voice thick with lust. he moved his hand a little, applying more pressure, his touch slow and teasing, knowing it would drive her crazy.

“mm. yes, please, chris.” she begged. how the tables had turned. unlike her, however, he immediately obliged, pulling down her shorts and unbuckling his own belt with urgency. he pulled his pants and boxers down in one movement, taking off his shirt a moment after.

he positioned himself over her, his body settling between her legs. she could feel his dick against her, and she shivered at the contact. he looked at her, his gaze burning, and she nodded, giving him permission. he pushed into her, slowly at first, and with a low moan. giving her time to adjust. but she was impatient, her body arching off the bed, desperate for him. 

he gave in to her need, his pace quickening, his movements becoming more urgent. her moans were like music to his ears, fueling his own ecstasy. she wrapped her legs around him, pulling him even closer, her nails digging into his back. they were a sweaty, tangled mess.

this was what they both needed, the raw desire for each other. they moved together, bodies in perfect sync, their pleasure building with every passing second. her hands roamed over him, touching, grasping, claiming.

 his lips found hers, their kiss desperate and sloppy. there was no time for words, only incoherent moans and strangled gasps. they were completely consumed by each other, everything else faded away.

he was getting close, and he wanted to bring her there with him. he moved faster, pushing deeper, angling his hips the way he knew drove her crazy. her body responded, so did her voice. her movements became more erratic, her voice pitching itself higher. he could feel her tightening around him, and he knew she was close too. his vision was starting to go hazy, his mind completely clouded by pleasure. 

her muscles clenched around him, and he reached down between the two of them, his fingers finding her clit, his touch precise. her body trembled under him. she felt completely overwhelmed by the pleasure he was giving her. his breathing was heavy and ragged, now he could tell he was just as close as he was. "oh god, don't stop," she gasped, her words coming out in labored pants.

he had one hand on the headboard, steadying himself, continuously rubbing her clit with the other as he pounded into her. he pulled her closer, their bodies as close as they could possibly be. her moans became louder and louder, she moved her hips in sync with his, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor. she wanted all of him, and he was giving her everything. her hands found their way to his face, her lips meeting his in a desperate kiss. the words that escaped her were incoherent, a mix of his name and pleas for more.

"'m close, 'm so close, chris." she spoke through her moans.

he could hear the edge to her voice, and he let out a guttural moan, his head falling forward, "me too, baby-- ah--" he panted, his movements growing sloppy. he could feel the tension coiled deep within them both, ready to snap at any moment.

her back arched off the bed, and he could see the sheen of sweat glistening on her skin. he was losing control, he could feel her walls clenching around him, and he knew it couldn’t be more than a few seconds before they both came undone.

"ah- fuck– come with me, baby-" he gasped out. the pressure built to a breaking point, ready to crash over them. “please, let go with me," he whispered, his words thick with need.

yes, it was what he said, but god, the way he said it. it was all she needed. it pushed her over the edge. she could feel it. the wave of pleasure cresting, about to crash down over her. she gasped out his name, her body tensing as it overcame her.

he could feel her clenching around him, her body shaking with release, and it was his undoing. the sight of her, lost in ecstasy, tipped him over the edge. he groaned, his hips stuttering as he found his own release. he pulled out and buried his face in the crook of her neck, his arms wrapped tightly around her.

their bodies trembled in the aftermath. they lay there for a moment, their breaths coming in ragged gasps, their hearts pounding in unison. he lifted his head, looking down at her, a slight smirk on his face.

"you're so fuckin’ pretty, you know that?" he said softly, his thumb tracing over her flushed cheek. his touch was gentle, a contrast to the intensity they had just shared. she looked up at him, almost not hearing him.

she said nothing, only giggled. she leaned into him, her laughter fading into a quiet sigh. he leaned to kiss her again, slower this time, and she just curled closer, her fingers resting lightly on his chest. he wrapped his arms around her, holding her like she was something fragile.

eventually, the room went quiet, their breaths slowed. somewhere between the warmth, they both drifted off, tangled up in each other.

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

/ an / if u couldn't tell this was not proofread and was written over the course of a few days . also it's currently one am as i'm posting this . hope u liked it regardless

-

[hyewka]

soobin + humiliation kink + hes such a perv

priorities, you perv | c.sb ࿐

⭑ synopsis. a blind date? oh thats immediately pushed aside just for the addictive high you get off messing with your roommate, who seems to be more pouty than usual tonight for whatever reason.

⭑ warnings. sub perv soobin, panty sniffing, underwear used as ball gag kinda, handjob, fuck buddy roommate au, humiliation kink sortaa, dacryphilia, vibrator, bunny/pup petname, not proofread, use of goddess

Soobin’s been intent on following you around like a puppy this evening, all around the house, but the longer he keeps it up, the less it becomes cute and funny and the more it crosses into the ‘overbearing jealous boyfriend who isn’t actually your boyfriend’ territory. Because really, why the hell has he been acting like a pet with abandonment anxiety the day you have your blind date scheduled?

“You can’t come in my bedroom with me.” you finally say, flashing him a superficial wide smile, behind your door.

He abruptly stops, stumbling back like his mind really was on autopilot following you—then his face falls, brows knitting together. “What, why?”

“Because I don’t want your cooties all over my bed.” He isn’t amused, clearly, with a brow raised. You groan, it could be life or death and your roommate would still not choose to humor you. “I’m going to change idiot.”

“It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before?”

You click your tongue at him—he might have an amazing track record with academics, but sometimes it really is rocks for brains in there. “You’re not coming in Soobin, tough luck!”

In lightning speed he sticks his arm between the crack before you shut your door. “Wait, no, I wanna—I wanna help you pick something out!”

Now its your turn to raise a brow. Soobin? Help you get ready? He’d rather die of boredom.

You knew you weren’t crazy.

All day, hes been acting extremely out of character. Throwing you pouts during the one lecture you shared, feeling his eyes bore into you like he’s trying to burn a hole in your face, yet still spending money to buy you your favorite tiramisu even when he’s been sulking like you’ve wronged his entire bloodline.

The craziest thing is that you truly do not know a bigger cheapskate than Soobin. He’d chase a quarter in a crowd of people even if it took him all the way to Japan. So the tiramisu was a mind boggling investment. For you, let alone. It’s like he was bribing you.

He couldn’t have magically fell head over heels, it has to have something to do with the one thing different today. Your blind date.

You reach out to pat his head, mock pouting. He takes the bait anyway, lowering his head a little, looking so cute confused. It’s adorable actually, how quick he is to go with whatever you do.

“Aww Soobie, it’s okay, I promise you’ll always be my number one good boy. You really don’t have to be jealous and act out.” you tease, intentionally using baby talk to agitate him a lot more than it would’ve.

He scoffs loudly snapping his head to the side, bewildered this is the direction you decided to take things. “What? Jealous? Jealous? Jealous of what? I’m not jealous.” You stand there wearing a skeptic look on your face and a cross of your arms over your chest.

He wags his finger at your face like he can’t believe your audacity, dryly laughing (which really just sounds like a bunch of scoffs stringed together). “You’re funny, I—I gotta give it to you Y/N, you should really try your luck with Hueningkai’s comedy group again. Is it a crime to want to support your roommate after being all too aware of her notorious losing streak with the dating world? I don’t think so!”

Ouch, the all too real call out. “Damn, okay asshole you can help.” you faux hurt, not missing the chance to flip him off before walking inside and leaving your bedroom door wide open behind you. Maybe his input will have you get to your date earlier. “By the way, I do not have a losing streak.”

————-

There are outfits you just think you’d never wear to a first date—your black bodycon with cuts at the waist was an absolute no-go, especially with it’s length. Then there was the crimson red shoulder-off that had your tits looking too full—that was a big no. You don’t even know how your blind date looks, you wouldn’t want to have a man you find sexually unappealing to find you sexually appealing. That’s always a cause for a migraine.

But the problem you’re facing right now is far greater than any migraine you’ll experience. Soobin seems to think every outfit you wound up coming out with is, in his own words, “too much���.

This one’s the worst of all. “It’s literally just ripped jeans and a crop top!”

“That’s the problem! It doesn’t even look pretty!” he splutters, eyes wide and a large pout on his lips.

“You want me to wear something pretty?”

He looks to the side, mumbling, “Whatever.”

It’s raining, you hear it pouring and you’re like, fifteen minutes late already. All for Soobin’s useless input. It’s not worth it, and you’re proven even more correct when you come out the bathroom with the outfit you picked out. White, tight, but flowy at the ends of the dress. Girly and especially tight at the chest, just like you know he likes it.

Soobins eyes don’t fail to shamelessly rake over your body, stunned, looking like a deer in headlights. He clears his throat, snapping out of it. “No, absolutely not.”

You feign innocence, tilting your head. “Why not? It’s pretty.” You make it more of a point when you turn around, acting like you’re just checking your outfit through your wall mirror, knowing damn well the horndogs probably salivating at your ass barely being covered.

“It’s too much.” he parrots again lamely, chewing slightly on his lips. “Change, you can’t go out like this.”

Okay, that sort of pisses you off, turning around with your arms crossed again to the boy sitting at the edge of your bed. He doesn’t have the right to order you around. “Yes I can, I very much can.”

Suddenly, there’s a switch—he cowers like a kicked dog. “You can wear whatever you want I didn’t mean to-”

You break into a grin all of a sudden walking towards him, shutting him up.

He gulps, sitting there, avoiding eye contact when you’re close. You prop his chin up, and he just lets you, forcing him to look you in the eye. God, he already looks stupidly entranced. “You’d hate for me to wear this, huh?”

“Yeah..” he admits way too easily, a little whine in his voice, brows knitting up. Cute.

“But you love the dress, don’t you?” you purr, caressing his face with your thumb.

Your phone suddenly rings and you’re pulled out of the moment for a second, glaring at it then back to your roommate who looks like he’s under some love spell. Yeah no, this is much more fun.

You ignore the call, letting it ring as you drag your thumb down his bottom lip and god how obedient he is just sitting there and looking up like you’re his deity.

“What?” you giggle at the way his breath hitches the further you trail your finger down his body. The switch right before your eyes, oh that transformation’s worth more than anything else in the world. Bunny’s horny.

“You’d love to take this off me, right? You’d love me tease you bit by bit, have my tits bouncing in the restrictions of them, just struggling to keep your hands from ripping it apart...” you trail off, finally getting your hand on his half erect clothed dick.

You can see him holding back, holding back from humping your hand, the one you just purposefully let rest on his growing boner. “Your date.” he reminds.

You quirk a brow, taken aback. “Want me to go?”

Suddenly, he vigorously shakes his head, “No, no, don’t. I want you, please.” The strain of his voice when he pleads—god it’s the sexiest, most sinful thing ever.

Shameless. Just the way you like him.

“Hm? You do? Don’t you always?” you tease, walking away to get something out of your drawer.

“What are you looking for?” he mumbles skeptically.

You gleam, pulling out the vibrator and turning it on, showing it to your unsuspecting roommate. “Let’s play with this.”

He frowns. “You know I can make you feel ten times better than that toy, you don’t need it.”

“Who says its for me?”

You enjoy the blush that trickles his cheeks, and how easily the tips of his ear turn red as he blinks rapidly to collect himself. His adam apple bobs up and down again, stumbling over his words. “God, you’re such a himbo.”

“W-wait!” he shrieks, suddenly covering the tent in his pants.

You halt, the vibrator only a few inches from his crotch. “Can—can you…” he sighs frustratedly, looking away from you, the steam coming his red ears has you curious, what’s he so hesitant for? “Can you take off your underwear?” Oh.

Of course.

Your lips form into a smirk, knowing exactly what he wants to do with them. Slowly, with one hand you pull down your panties and let them drop to the floor. His eyes are, despite having a hard time telling you what he wants, eagerly fixed on the black lace, you could see the bead of sweat that breaks from his forehead. Pervert.

You bend down to grab it, purposefully making a show of it and he just huffs. “Get with it already.”

You laugh, “You’re being so bratty today. Think you’re owed a fuck?”

He whimpers dejectedly, shaking his head. Mockingly, you wave your panties in front of his face like an owner wagging a bone in front of their dog. He’s so indecent he has the audacity to take a whiff when the garment is close enough. God, he really is absolutely shameless.

And you really need to relieve yourself. You’re trying to not rub your thighs too much.

You crumble the underwear in your hand, and coo. “Open your mouth wide baby.”

Soobin’s mouth falls open almost immediately, tongue lolling out, looking up at you expectantly so much so it would be endearing if not for the situation you’re currently in. You shove it in his mouth, cringing at the saliva that wets your fingers.

“This is how it started huh?” you near the vibrator on his inner thighs enjoying the way he sighs through his nose, shuddering. “Fooling your roommate into thinking you were a studious, innocent good boy but in reality you just snuck in the laundry room every night to jerk off with her panties. Disgusting.”

He moans wantonly around the fabric, his hair brushing over his eyes as you near the vibrator to where he actually wants it. His dick. Poor him, its probably weeping in his pants.

“Violating me like that without my knowledge— you’ll always be a bad boy.”

Again, he shakes his head hard, to the point your panties fall out of his mouth already. “No, good boy. I’m your good boy.” he pants, face flushed. How’s he so easily worked up?

You giggle, pressing the vibrator against his cock, having Soobin’s jaw fall slack. “Couldn’t even keep the underwear in your mouth for more than two seconds. You’d make a really good camboy, always wanting people to hear you moan and whine like a slut.”

“No, no, just want you. Just want you to hear me.”

That affects you more than you’d like, and you try to fight the blush that warms your cheeks. God damn Soobin.

But he isn’t even aware, if his babbles were any indication. He dips his head back, big hands digging onto your sheets as you run the vibrator up and down. “Fuck.” he groans, still keeping his eyes open to watch your chest. You know he’s trying hard to keep up the good boy act for you, so you throw him a bone.

He gasps when your hand goes down his pants to wrap around his cock, and it’s the cutest thing ever how he immediately melts. You’re sitting next to him, twisting and jerking off his dick with his head leaning on your shoulder when you’re supposed to be under an umbrella with a future dating prospect instead.

Who cares, that man you’re sure wouldn’t give you what he’s giving you.

“Don’t wanna cum yet, wanna fuck you f-first.” he breathes into your neck. “Please goddess, please. Want your pussy.” he begs dumbly, starting to lay wet kisses to your neck— hes just not leaving room for you to really hold back.

“Holy shit, you’re good.” you realize in awe, probably wetting your bed with how aroused you are right now.

“Then take me baby, take me how you want. You’ve been good, so good.” you slur, and he practically jumps onto you like an oversized bunny, having your back on the mattress and him hovering, pulling you into an open mouth kiss almost immedietely.

“You’re so hot, fuck, you drive me crazy.” he says rushed, kissing you again, melting his mewls and pants into it.

You feel the roughness of his hands playing with your tits already, kneading so desperately you think he must’ve been itching to do just that this entire time. You like it with him, how it’s so dirty and quick, but still passionate enough to keep you wanting more.

“Fuck, wanna see them, please, please.” he whines as he salivates even more, playing with your nipples through the fabric, cheeks red and flushed, pathetically humping your cunt with his boner. “No, be a good bunny and fuck me good.”

He’s sniffling and tears stain his lashes, yet he still nods obediently, humping your cunt like he’s just restless enough to not pull out his dick and put it in—it’s the hottest thing ever.

But eventually the fabric feels rough against your skin, and you hiss, taking it upon yourself to pull out his cock from his pants.

God, his tip is red, leaky— it’s gross, a testament to how he gets with you and you love it. “Come on baby—bunny, fuck me.” you look up at him with wide, doe eyes and it immediately has him nodding frantically, missing your entrance once before he completely bottoms out, suffocatingly filling you up in one push—you’ll just never get used to his size.

“Always so mean, you’re always so mean to me.” he dumbly babbles, tongue out as he fucks into you maniacally, getting lost in your pussy.

“But you’re in my cunt right now aren’t you?” you mock, knowing that’s always his end goal with you, his end prize.

You’re breathless, curling your toes the harder he snaps his hips. You’re used to how it is with Soobin, he’s always animalistic and unrhythmic, rubbing your clit like he has no idea what he’s doing. But that’s the fun in it, how inexperienced and pathetic he is.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum, are you? Are you?” he’s out of it, kissing your neck, biting, panicky as he nears his orgasm, that before you could respond, you’re already feeling his seed fill your cunt.

He can tell, he can tell when you didn’t get there so he’s already pulling your dress up over your tits, attaching his mouth on one of your nipples, pulling the other through his hands, playing with them till they become puffy and have you withering under him. “Fuck, fuck Soobie…just like that,” you moan, feeling his long fingers squeeze into your pussy, speeding up, trying to rip an orgasm out of you.

The tense of his arms, veins showing, cease once you arch your back and cum at getting a good look of his face— lips raw and red as he bit onto them for majority of the time, eyes wet and big, just silently begging you to cum on his fingers, you let yourself go, the tightening band finally snapping.

—————-

note. lol im not super duper confident but let me know how you guys feel about this one, feedback keeps me going

[writerslittlelibrary]

Why should I help you?

masterlist

summary: when you are in desperate need for financial help to pay off your rent, you go to the only person you know is able to lend you money. will the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff even help you, or will she just see you as an easy target, like everyone always had

pairing: Mob!Natasha x homeless teen reader

warnings: murder, vague description of sexual assualt 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 2399

a/n: this has been in my inbox so long I’m embarrassed. It's such an amazing request as well :( I hope that whoever requested this still gets to read this story. I love and appreciate you 🫶 (I couldn't find the request, but I know that I got it at some point)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Your life had never been the easiest. You were abandoned after your mom lost her house. You never met your dad, and you had been living with your mom most of your life. However, your mother was a drunk and a drug addict. The little money she earned went towards her drug addiction, and there was never any left for you.

After you and your mother were put on the streets, you left her almost immediately. At first, you didn’t want to, but all the money you earned with your hard work your mother used for alcohol and drugs. 

With pain in your heart, you figured your mother was a lost cause, and you should focus on yourself. 

And so, when you mother was sleeping one night, you left, buying a bus ticket and travelling to New York. You had never done much research on where you were going, so you were definitely more than surprised when New York wasn’t the dream location you had read about when you were younger. 

The streets were empty and cold, and everywhere you looked it appeared as though someone was ruling the state with an iron fist. 

You were able to find a place to stay at rather quickly. You had only been walking for about an hour before you found an apartment building with a note saying “we’re lending.”

You knocked on the door and an old man opened. You asked if the note meant they were lending out money, and the man nodded as he let you inside. You sat at the bar as the man wrote you a few notes. He gave you a key and explained you had to get the money within the next two months, or he would take the rent in another way. 

You weren’t sure what he had meant by that, but you were happy to have a place to stay. The apartment didn’t look to bad either. Sure, it wasn’t a penthouse, but it was spacious, and had a nice bed. 

The next few days you had been searching for a job, but as it turned out, as a minor you were unable to get a job anywhere. 

You didn’t give up however, and after entering a bar, and lying about your age, a scary guy who introduced himself as Bucky gave you a job as a waitress. You would just need to serve the people in the bar, but he made it very clear you were not allowed to stand behind the bar and get the drinks yourself.

You agreed with a smile on your face, listening intently to everything he told you, wanting to make sure to leave a good first impression.

Your first few shifts at the bar went rather well, and even though you got some weird and suspicious looks at first, nobody seemed to really have a problem with you. 

It didn’t take long before you made friends with the other girl that worked as a waitress. Her name was Wanda, and apparently, together with her twin that stood behind the bar, she had connections with the owner. 

You learned that the owner of the bar was a powerful person in the city, and that she ran most places. Most people were afraid of her.

You had asked her if there were any risks for you seeing as you were working in her bar, but Wanda had just laughed and shaken her head. She assured you you were perfectly safe. 

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

You had been working in the bar for two months, and everything was going smoothly. The regulars in the bar liked you. You were kind and respectful, yet you were funny and a joyful person. Bucky, who in the first instant had given you the job out of pity, had grown to like you, realising you were in fact actually very good at your job, despite your age. 

When you got home that evening, the old man that rented you the apartment had knocked on your door and told you to pay him.

You were shocked, and totally confused as you figured you would have to pay him at the end on the month. However, he shook his head, giving you a fake disappointed look.

“Don’t worry sweetheart,” he started, pushing his way into your apartment, shutting the door and locking it. “It is not the end of the world. There are other ways for you to pay,” he finished, walking forward, forcing you to walk backwards until your back hit the wall. 

You tried to get as far away from him as possible, yet once your back collided with the wall there wasn’t anywhere for you to go. 

He brought his hand up to your mouth, covering it as he leaned closer. 

“This will be half of your payment. I will come to collect the rest tomorrow,” he stated, dropping his hand to his pants, forcing himself upon you. 

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

The day after the old man visited you felt disgusted. You had taken two showers already, wanting to try everything you could to wash him off of you. You still felt his hands all over your body, yet no matter how much you cried and screamed you could not get the feeling to go away. 

When the evening started, you pushed yourself to leave your apartment, walking to the bar to start your shift. 

There was no way you could get enough money to pay off your rent, leaving you with multiple ideas of just running away. You knew it would look suspicious to take some of your stuff and leave, and you figured the old man wouldn’t let you anyway. 

And so, you started your shift at the bar.

You waited until the end of the evening to walk up to Wanda. The bar was almost empty now, so you figured it would be a good moment to approach Wanda. 

“Hey Wanda, can I ask you something?” you asked as you moved to stand next to her at the bar.

Wanda turned to you with a smile. “Of course.”

“You know the boss, right? The woman that owns this bar?” you started, and Wanda frowned slightly as she nodded. 

“Yeah, why…?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Could you maybe, introduce me or something? I need money and I need it quickly. I figured I’d might be able to lend some?” you asked Wanda, and Wanda nodded slightly, an unsure look on her face. 

“Are you sure you there is no other way? Lending money from a mob boss isn’t exactly the way to go,” Wanda mentioned, and you sighed as you shrugged. 

“The alternative is worse,” you told her and Wanda nodded, telling you to stay at the bar while she got someone. 

You sat on one of the barstools and Pietro offered you a glass of water. You thanked him and drank it quickly, nervous about the fact that you would meet the most feared mob boss in the entire state. 

You had learned pretty quickly who the owner of the bar was, and with that you had also learned that she was the most feared person in the entirety of New York, and even outside of that. You heard many stories floating around in the bar, yet despite them, you kept working there. 

Wanda’s voice snapped you from your thoughts. 

She had walked over to a table which a few women were sitting at, apparently people this mob boss knew as Wanda came back with a blonde women. 

“This is Carol,” Wanda started. “She’ll take you to see Natasha.” 

You nodded and thanked her, getting up from your seat and nervously following Carol outside.

“This is my car. Get in,” Carol stated as she walked over to the drivers side. You walked over to the passengers side, hesitantly opening the door and getting in the car. 

You nervously rubbed your hand palms on you pants, when you sat down. 

Carol didn’t say a word as she drove. Not even the radio was on. There hung an uncomfortable tension in the car. You stared out the window as Carol drove, watching the apartment building blur by. 

The drive wasn’t long, something you were grateful for. Carol stopped at an incredibly fancy looking office building. 

She got out, and you followed suit, staying close as she walked through the many hallways, stopping at an elevator. She got in, waiting for you to follow as she pressed a few buttons. 

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

When you finally arrived at the floor, Carol walked towards an office, knocking on the door and almost immediately entering. 

“This kid wants to lend money,” was all she said as she stood aside, allowing you to walk inside the office. Carol stayed outside and closed the door. 

There was a red headed women sitting at the large desk that stood in front of the windows. The woman didn’t look like a scare mob boss, but the again, you figured they never did. 

“Sit down,” the woman simply stated, and you were quick to move yourself into the seat.

You didn’t look at the woman, but rather kept your head down and stayed quiet. You were far too nervous to say anything. 

“Well? Why are you here?” the woman asked, getting you to look up slightly.

“I need to borrow some money…” you said softly, looking up at the woman slightly to try and read her facial expression.

“What does a child like you need to borrow money for?” she asked, and you hesitated for a moment before answering. 

“I need to pay my rent,” you told her, and you thought you caught her frown.

“Why do you need to pay rent?” she asked, and your expression turned to one of confusion. 

“To make sure I get to live in my apartment…?” you questioned, and the woman smiled slightly, something that almost seemed like an amused grin.

“You’re a child. You should be in school,” she stated, yet you just shook your head. 

“I need the money. Please,” you begged her.

Her expression remained unchanged, yet she did reach for a notebook. 

“What apartment building are you staying in?” she asked. After you told her the name, she looked up in shock. 

“Do you know what happens if you don’t pay the rent?” she asked quickly. You were confused at her sudden eagerness, yet you nodded. 

You thought you say a look of almost pity flash over her face before it turned to a stone cold expression. She got up from her chair, walking to her office door and opening it. She gave Carol some instructions before she returned to you, smiling. 

“You won’t return to your apartment. You also won’t return to your job anymore,” the woman stated and you looked up in panic. 

“I’m sorry if I said something wrong but please. I need that job,” you told her in a hurry, yet the woman just smiled at you.

“Come with me,” she stated as she motioned her head towards the door. You got up quickly and followed her demand. 

Once you two were standing outside she led you to her car, telling you to get in as she got into the drivers side. You sighed as you followed her orders, figuring she would just drive you back to the bar to then fire you properly. 

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

After driving for a while, you noticed you weren’t even remotely close to the bar anymore, and so you figured she was just gonna kill you and dumb your body. 

However, after driving for about thirty minutes, she stopped in front of a large apartment building, driving her car into the parking garage and telling you to follow her. You did and soon you ended up at the top floor of the building. The penthouse.

The woman led you inside, walking towards an empty room and telling you to get in.

It was a bedroom. A neatly made bedroom. You looked around confused for a moment before the woman spoke.

“My name is Natasha. The people you are renting your apartment from are bad people, and I will take care of them. You will stay here now, and I will make sure all your stuff is brought here,” Natasha stated, smiling at you. 

You looked at her, taken back by what she had just said. 

“What…? Why?” you asked her, and Natash gave you a kind smile. 

“You are just a child. You deserve care, and love, and I will give that to you. You also deserve an education, which I will get you, if you allow me too,” Natasha stated, and you smiled as tears began to blur your vision. 

“But why…?” you cried, and Natasha stepped forwards, guiding you towards the bed, sitting you down as she pulled you into her. 

“Bucky didn’t hire you because he wanted too. He did it because I wanted too. I have been keeping my eye on you ever since you started working in the bar. This city is no place for a child to be on her own, but under my protection, you will be able to live a great life. I can assure you that,” Natasha finished, gently rubbing your back.

“Thank you,” you sobbed.

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

After you had gone to sleep, Natasha had left the building, taking her most trusted team and going to the apartment building you had been staying at. 

She knew the owner, Dreykov, would come to your apartment to get his ‘payment’ tonight, and so she figured she would give him a little payment of her own. 

She had already contacted her sister, who was already waiting in your apartment for the moment Dreykov came through the door. Natasha and her sister knew what Dreykov was capable off. After all, they were once victims of him as well. 

That time, two other people ruled the city. A woman named Melina and a man named Alexei, who had done the exact same for Natasha and her sister as she was doing for you now. 

However, at that time, taking Dreykov out was risky, as the empire he build was not bad either. 

This time, Natasha knew she had the power to take him down, and so she did. 

Together with her sister, Natasha and Yelena murdered Dreykov, making sure he suffered and he knew why he was being killed. 

Natasha would protect you now. Natasha would be your family.

a/n: I feel like this is written so terribly 😭 it feels so choppy, and I feel like this may be some of the worst writing I have ever done, and that ending? oof. I apologise, and I promise my next fic will be better

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @simp-erformarvelwomen @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @mxximoffswifey @lorsstar1st

[p0orbaby]

Honeymoon

summary: sun, sea and sex on the beach

warnings: SMUT 18+, not explicit but still, voyerism? dom!leah

a/n: im sick of the cold so i wrote this, enjoy

word count: 1.3k

-

Everything was perfect.

The sea breeze tickled your skin with each wave that broke on the shore. You were well rested, a belly full of wine and great food.

If you had to be picky, the canopy you were laying under was doing too well a job. The rays of the Mediterranean sun thwarted by canvas as your skin prickled slightly in the shade.

And Leah had abandoned you.

You pull your sunglasses down to the end of your nose to get a better look at the scene before you. A slender figure, hair wet from the ocean, bikini clinging to her deliciously, her tanned skin making your mouth water as she strides back in your direction.

The book you were reading tumbled from your grasp, completely forgotten about as your jaw slackens.

“Enjoying the view?” she teases when she’s close enough, well aware of the spectacle she’s become. Made all the more obvious by the smirk she’s sporting as she talks.

“I am now” you manage after a second. “Kept me waiting long enough”

Leah slides into the shade, the mattress dipping as she settles in her spot beside you. She smells like sea salt and sunscreen and you sigh contentedly.

“Sure you don’t want to go in? she asks, reaching for the half drank beer she’d left. “Water’s perfect”

You shake your head, pushing your sunglasses back up. “Maybe later. I can’t promise I wasn’t enjoying the peace and quiet”

Leah chuckles, “you’re a terrible liar. You know that right?”

You do an awful job at hiding your offense. Though you frown from behind your lenses, your pout gives you away. Evident by the way Leah leans over and kisses you. Once, twice. She pecks your scowl away. She tastes like beer and you find it hard to stay annoyed.

Her fingers dance along your arm, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake. “I did keep you waiting, didn’t I? Maybe I should make it up to you”

“Maybe?”

“I’ll make it up to you” she corrects herself, leaning in to capture your lips again. She lingers and you hum. “You’ve been a very patient little thing”

You hum again, this time in agreement. Because you had been.

“Come here”

You ignore her at first. Picking up your book and scanning the pages as if her choice of words hadn’t at all affected you.

“Y/N”

It wasn’t a warning, but there was an edge to her tone. The wind wasn’t the only thing making you shiver now. And it was getting increasingly hard to pretend your book was of any interest to you.

Then before you knew it, the words you were trying so desperately to distract yourself with were gone. Book removed swiftly from your grasp. You squeal as cold palms pull at your wrist and waist, finding yourself perched in Leah’s lap.

“I said come here”

“You’ve made me lose my page”

Leah leans in, her lips leaving a trail of warmth against your skin. “You weren’t really reading it,” she whispers, the wet ends of her hair dripping onto both of you. “I’m trying to apologise”

“By manhandling me?”

Leah pulls back slightly, her mischievous smile undeterred. “I prefer to think of it as a strategic repositioning”

You roll your eyes, the grin now playing on your lips betraying your half-hearted resistance. “You interrupted a good part”

Leah’s fingers traced teasing patterns along your arm, sending ripples of warmth through you. She met your gaze with an intensity that told you where this would be headed. “Doesn’t seem like you’re too upset about that, does it?” she remarked, her lips a breath away from yours.

Her touch became bolder, fingers now lingering at the edge of your bikini, a subtle promise hanging in the air.

“I could make it worth your while,” she whispered, her voice quiet and soft despite her intentions.

Your heartbeat quickens as Leah’s fingers start to tug on the knot of your bikini top, loosening it slightly. “Leah,” you murmur with a shaky voice. “We’re in public”

“If you’re quiet, no one will look over here” she states matter of factly. “Can you be quiet for me?”

Your breath catches, and you nod in agreement, feeling the exhilaration of breaking the rules. Leah’s fingers work deftly, loosening the knot further, and the warmth of the sun-kissed air mixes with the thrill of her touch.

“I can be quiet,” you reply, your voice a whisper. Leah’s eyes lock onto yours, a mischievous spark swimming in them.

Her lips find yours again, this time with a searing connection that leaves no room for restraint. As the spattering of beach-goers ignorantly continues on with their day, Leah’s touch becomes determined. Her experienced fingers toying with places that send shivers down your spine.

You suppress a gasp as she deftly removes your bikini top, her lips now exploring every inch of exposed tanned skin. You bite your lip, stifling any sounds that threaten to escape as she pushes her other hand down the front of your bikini bottoms.

"You're being such a good girl, Y/N," she whispers, sending a shiver down your spine.

Your fingers find their way into her wet hair, tangling and tugging gently as you surrender to the intoxicating feelings of pleasure coursing through you.

Despite her actions, Leah's voice remains unwavered. "Let go," she murmurs, her lips tracing a path along your neck. Teeth nipping and tongue soothing. "Let me hear you, just a little”

A collision of sensations ensues—the sea breeze, the soft touch fabric beneath your knees, and the feel of your wife’s fingers moving against you. Any semblance of public surroundings fades away, leaving only the cocooned world of forbidden bliss.

The boundary between public and private blurs, and you find yourself teetering on the edge of it.

“So, about that swim,” she says as between kisses along your sternum, your throat, your jaw. “Or do you plan on keeping me all to yourself under this canopy?”

“Stop talking” you beg, trying to catch your breath as waves of pleasure ripple through you.

She just laughs against your skin and uses her now free hands to keep you close to her, letting you retain some of your dignity.

“If we become a headline, I’m divorcing you” you state, pulling at the fabric laying around your legs, prompting her to help you get dressed.

She smirks up at you, “somehow, still worth the risk. Do you accept my apology?”

“Not in the slightest” you remark, rolling off of her and reaching for your book once more. Albeit this time with trembling hands and an erratic rise and fall in your chest.

The blonde turns to lean over you again, close enough that you can feel her breath against your cheek. Feel the heat of her skin against yours.

“In that case” she whispers, dipping down to lick a stripe up the column on your throat, “I’ll be off, then”

Your eyes snap open from where they threatened to close. Getting whiplash at her change in pace.

“What? Hey, where are you going?”

Leah stretches when she stands, the hard muscle taut and she twist and pulls, “getting you some food”

You frown, wondering why she would bother when you only had breakfast about an hour ago. “I’m not hungry”

She just shrugs, looking down at you triumphantly as she takes in your disheveled look, “doesn’t matter. I’ve got some groveling to do and you need to keep your energy up if I’m to be forgiven”

The fog in your brain stunts your ability to process her words. The cogs sticking as you try to clear your mind. Then clarity hits you like a freight train, and your legs involuntarily rub together at the prospect.

Your wife is a menace. She knows full well what she’s done as she walks off without even so much a look over her shoulder.

With a wry smile you settle back against the canopy pillows. Sunglasses shielding the desire burning in your eyes. The book in your hand a forgotten relic as the Mediterranean breeze whispers the promise of more.

[whateverisbeautiful]

I've seen a lot of people say Michonne was a negligent mother for leaving her kids behind or that she should have never went searching for Rick when she had kids at home. I feel like this is such a hot topic for people (especially the ones who love to throw shade at Michonne). Regardless of the fact that Judith told her to go bring Rick home, I'd love to hear your thoughts!

Thanks for wanting to hear my thoughts! I have quite a bit on this one. 😅

I think the “Michonne is a negligent mother and abandoned her kids” take is one of the most disingenuous and wrong takes to date. I’ve seen people attempt to push that narrative for years, and there are so many reasons why it's incorrect. But I also think it's disingenuous because it often comes from people who disliked Michonne and didn't have a valid reason for why, during the eight straight seasons she was on the show, because she gave them no legitimate reason to dislike her. Not connecting/clicking with a character is something everyone is entitled to. But the disdain some had for Michonne - they had no concrete reason for it (that they’d directly say aloud at least, even tho as we often say: we know why) And so they cling to bashing a decision made in the final minutes of her final episode and act like that now paints the entire picture of the character and her motherhood. When really, going to look for Rick was the opposite of neglectful, and was a decision Michonne made jointly with her daughter.

We watched eight seasons of a woman who was easily one of the most nurturing/caring people on the show & who, from the moment we met her, was being thoughtful even to strangers like Andrea. The way that Michonne took Carl and Judith in as her own, and they became her children. Like, we have seen too many seasons of this woman being extremely familial, loving, and caring towards her family. So to have the outlook that “She's just a negligent mother” is inane. What she did by going to find Rick wasn’t selfish; it was a huge sacrifice. And it was a sacrifice she was commendably willing to make for the people she loves most. 

Also, people are so unwilling sometimes to give Michonne the benefit of the doubt, even despite her having a track record that should more than earn her the benefit of the doubt. There are so many examples of Michonne being a character who uses discernment and is nurturing, and so the "bad mom" arguments just never work. Even with her leaving in s10, it’s not at all hard to have given her the benefit of the doubt that she had a specific place she was going to look for Rick (Bridgers Terminal), rather than just planning to go off searching indefinitely, and that she gave Judith a sense of where she was specifically going to look, the timeline she had in mind, and that if she didn't find Rick there she'd swiftly return home to Judith and RJ.

And of course, in an apocalypse, it's always risky to part ways. A timeline can be thwarted, and unexpected, dangerous things can happen, as we even saw with the CRM attack that put a year delay on her trip. So it's a risk. But I don't think there's ever been more of a risk worth taking than knowing that the love of her life & her children’s father is alive and that she can find him and give their family a chance to be together again. 

I think some people thought Michonne was just going to vaguely search the country for years, when really she knew where she was going to look and had every intent to be home to her kids asap. Because she’s a devoted mother. That’s a huge reason why she had to look for Rick, and a huge reason why she was hesitant to go before Judith encouraged her to, and a huge reason why she remained extremely determined to make it home every single day she was apart from her kids. 

And when they say Michonne abandoned the kids, I’m just like, how is it abandonment when the kids are fully aware of what their mother is doing, and they wanted her to go do it?? By that warped definition, any time a parent is temporarily away, even if the parent and child fully communicated about their travels and the kid is urging their parent to take this journey, it's still abandonment, because so long as a parent is not with their kid, they've abandoned them.🤔 They have to completely ignore Michonne and Judith’s final conversation on the walkie in season 10 for that to even remotely work. 

Now, do I think that if Danai wasn't leaving The Walking Dead, that they would have had Michonne set off to find Rick in the exact way it was executed? No. Imo, it would have gone a bit differently. I think Michonne would be the type of character who would discover that Rick's alive, everything in her would want to find him - for him, for her, and especially for their kids, because Michonne never just acts in pure self-interest. She's always doing something in the name of what would be beneficial to her family. So she would feel very called to go and look for Rick and know he needs her, and her family needs him. But she would go home first. She would go home and ensure the Whisperer War was really over. And she’d establish in person where the kids will be staying and with whom before she goes to find Rick. 

But they had to write Michonne off the show, and leave her ending open enough to set up for the spinoff. So they didn’t put on-screen just how much she might have communicated to her kids about where she was going and what the plan would be in her absence. And maybe she knew that where she was with Virgil was closer to Bridgers Terminal, and so her travels would be quicker if she left from there rather than went home first. 

Also, at that point, Alexandria had been standing for over 10 years, if I’m not mistaken. It’s not like this was the farm or the prison, where if you leave for an extended period of time, the odds of the group still being there would be low. She had every reason to believe that if she went on this recuse mission, her kids would still be at ASZ, their longstanding home, when she returned. And Michonne knew that Judith and RJ have guardians who will absolutely watch over and protect her kids with their lives, while she does the most invaluable thing in the world and brings their father back to them.

If Judith had gotten on that walkie and said she didn’t want Michonne to leave, Michonne would have been back in ASZ pronto. But hearing her daughter be so adamant about her going, both Michonne and Judith knew this was something that she had to do. And it had to be Michonne specifically because that’s who Rick most needed to save him and bring him back to life. 

The kids didn’t view themselves as abandoned. They knew their mom was doing something huge for them, and they respected it. And especially because Michonne’s mission to find Rick and bring him home to them was successful, the kids will probably forever feel like that's one of the greatest things their mother ever did. Give them their dad back. That’s why I love that TOWL ends with Judith telling Michonne, “You brought him back,” and Michonne saying, “You told me to.” That's such a big reason why she did it. Her daughter told her to, and she was determined to honor her daughter's requests and go get him. 

Despite everything thrown at her through her journey and travels, Michonne always knew she was going to get back to her children, come hell or high water. And she did. And not even empty-handed either, since she brought Judith & RJ’s loving father back into their lives. And so, Michonne is one of the best mothers in media in my book. 👌🏽

[besidesitstoowarm]

so i'll talk about this more tomorrow when i put up my "amy's choice" write up but i am thinkingggg about moffat's characterization vs davies

like with rory and mickey. rory is obviously the mickey, the back-home boyfriend getting ditched in favor of the doctor. but the thing with mickey is like... he's a good reason to leave, not to stay. he's kind of a loser, implied in the first episode to be cheating (telling rose not to check his email) before she even meets the doctor! he's the tin dog, mickey the idiot. he represents everything rose is tired of. she straight up never seems to care about him ever, and the doctor openly mocks him, and even the narrative doesn't seem interested in giving him interiority or sympathy

vs rory. rory is a legitimately good option: good career, kind, gentle, intelligent, handsome (mickey was also handsome, to be fair). he's the antithesis of the doctor, but he's not presented as the worse option, just very different. he has the doctor dead. to. rights. immediately! "you make people a danger to themselves" and that will carry on, past "you forget that not every victory is about saving the world" he's like the Reasonable One

the potential danger of traveling with the doctor is treated as an inevitable minor footnote in the davies era, i feel like. it's always there but it's rarely Real. rose was so borderline suicidal i'm amazed she only got trapped in another dimension, martha dipped cause his ass was pathetic, donna was literally railroaded and never had a real choice. but amy? amy feels like she's in real danger of losing rory, she does lose her daughter, she DIES in the end. and clara dies. and bill– like the consequences are real. they make their choice, and their choice makes them. obviously all of them are in danger in any given episode but it feels like the moffat companions really play that out to the inevitable conclusion

and i feel like his companions have faults and traits that actually... matter? like with davies companions we do learn a lot about their lives in terms of jobs and skills and family, but less about deep character flaws, about ethos. i do love them but halfway through s5, the obvious impact on the story that amy's abandonment issues have feels genuinely unmatched by earlier companions. she's savage! she's nasty! she is given a trolley problem and chooses murder suicide bc either her life is a lie or her husband is dead and life isn't worth living. it's deranged. in the davies era it felt like i was piecing together characters and arcs on my own, picking up my own observations, it feels far more passive than it does with amy so far. amy is deliberate, her character arc and growth is very active. clara and the doctor get so codependent she tries to kill him and then dies horrifically. like it's insane

none of this is meant to shit on the davies era. i enjoyed it a lot and love all his companions (except adam but he doesn't count) and obviously the moffat era couldn't have been what it was without davies preceding, but i'm really remembering why moffat's era is my fave. it feels so intentional, so rich, it is exactly what i personally want out of a story. i love s5 so much

[emblemxeno]

Just wanting to add to the analysis of Fates a bit because it's absolutely beautiful once you really start digging. Here's just a few of my favorite things that the game doesn't spell out for the player and instead you actually have to think about.

How come Corrin's dragon form is never brought up again in the plot? Cuz Corrin is terrified of it, They only unlocked their dragon form because they watched their two parental figures die in front of them in like a week. The only other time that Corrin mentions it is fear of the fact Kana inherited it, but Kana absolutely loves their dragon form, it's a central part of most of their Supports, because Kana associates turning into a dragon with being able to stay with Corrin.

Also Wyrmslayers are a Nohrian sword, and the only Dragon characters in Birthright are Corrin and Scarlet. Anytime you see a Nohrian weilding a Wyrmslayer that's a soldier equipped to kill Corrin specifically. At least the Dragon killer weapon for Hoshidans is a scroll that can be used on Wyvern Riders.

Why is Jakob so mean to Felicia? One she reminds him of his younger self, when he was a terrible butler and the only reason he wasn't thrown out to starve is because of Corrin. However Felicia can't be fired because she's a political prisoner, and she's unaware of this fact, she's privileged in a way that she doesn't know. He apparently gets along well enough with Flora for her to have a crush on him.

It seems like the only two consistent jobs in Nohr are Maid and Soldier, admittedly that may just be selection bias based on our characters but it really fits the vibes that Nohr gives. The only things that matter to Garon are military might and his royal lifestyle. Nohr's economy just can't handle Not Being At War. The sewers contain more of an economy than anywhere else in Nohr.

Everything about Camilla, basically, from how she DEFINITELY killed every sibling and concubine to how she is so overly affectionate with Corrin, Elise, and her retainers because she doesn't want them to leave, she needs that kind of control and stability in her life. Notice how she kinda does the exact same thing with Sakura the moment that she abandons Nohr in Revelations.

The way that Azura and Lilith kind of perfectly fit into the Numb Eldest Brother and Protective Older Sister template that the Royals provide. If Corrin is the Younger Brother, the only think the Valla family is missing is a Healer Younger Sister, which hilariously could also be filled by Lilith.

Despite being one of Mikoto's advisors, Yukimura kinda doesn't care for both her and Corrin's goals of peace. He's Hoshido's military advisor/general, he actively benefits from keeping the war ongoing. In Revelations his dialouge is like the harshest to Corrin out of any in the entire route. Garon wasn't the only one pushing the forever war.

I dunno how to end this. Fates Good. Drink Water.

YES YES YES ALL OF THIS IS GOOD SHIT. I HOPE YOU DON'T MIND IF I POST THIS.

Like, all of this isn't directly stated, but because the pieces are in such LARGE abundance, there's great cause to believe it's intentional. They're layed out for the player to connect when they dig deeper.

And that's before getting into how game design in general is just so intentional, it has to be in order to have a product that survives in the cultural zeitgeist. Fates endures because of controversy, yes, but the fans it has are fans because of these seemingly minute things connecting to a grander picture because of how many of them there are.

[nightclawduke]

sheriff hoyt hcs?

Quote from [Elfen Lied]. I apologize for the late reply, I've been busy and I was gathering reference material while also working on the illustrations here.

In my list of headcanons, I will be mentioning sensitive subjects. I'm talking about Hoyt afterall. Please be mindful of that and proceed to read the rest under the cut. It's a long text too. Thanks in advance for stopping by n.n

The following headcanons are written by taking in consideration both movies and comics. I personally belive that the comics, altough they provide interesting complementary material, are inconscistent with the canon source but I still borrowed some comic elements of Hoyt to create the basis of various hedcanons here and adapt them to the character we see in both films.

░𝕆ℝ𝕀𝔾𝕀ℕ𝕊░ I've read a theory about why Luda Mae is referred as his both mother and sister of Hoyt, the reason being him a product incest between Charlie Hewitt Sr. and Luda Mae. It is a very solid theory taking into consideration that the events take place in a rural, southern isolated community. However, I decided to add another possible reason why Luda Mae is called "Mama", a more psychological one. I'm not dismissing the Incest Theory, I'm just giving my own opinion and the movie doesn't really provide any complete information of the Hewitt Family Tree. Now, in my theory, I do not doubt there were cases of abuse inside the family but I do not think Hoyt is the result of inbreeding. Mostly because -at least at first sight- he doesn't seem to have genetic malformations, which should be visible considering he's supposed to be the product between very close relatives that increases the percentage of disorders appearing in their offsprings. You can call him ugly if you want (lol), but he seems genetically proportioned for me at least. Perhaps it's something internal but he wouldn't have made it as far as 59 years of age if he had a genetic illness, considering there's no medical assistance at that town and he doesn't look the type of man to have a healty life style. Also, he definitely shows no signs of intellectual disability: he's too much of a manipulative, sadistic man to have that. Then, why does Hoyt calls his sister "mama"? Mrs. Hewitt must have been a submissive, traditional woman… perhaps she was forced to marry Mr. Hewitt. The father could have been a stern, rough man… (a foreshadowing of what Hoyt would turn into the future.) The husband abused his own wife and I theorize Hoyt was a product of that: an unwanted child. Monty was the firstborn, the one to heritage the land, then Luda Mae was born shortly after. Or Luda Mae might have been born first and then the couple tried a second time for a boy with the intention of leaving the land to a male that could carry the family name, this second child being Monty. In general, I see Monty and Luda only being a few years apart. Charlie was probably conceived after the marriage was slowly falling apart/ becoming toxic. We are talking about a conservative and religious family and so, Mrs. Hewitt was forced to keep the child, and thus, Charlie was born. The mother I think either died during childbirth or managed to abandon the husband after reaching a breaking point, the second option less likely since a trad wife like that would have endured it all just for the sake of her children but I do belive she was completely absent from Charlie's life. And so, Luda Mae became the closest thing Charlie had of a mother figure, clinging to her during his early years, like a stray child looking for motherly love. These feelings would linger still as an adult, Luda Mae seems to be his most respected family member. She is the only woman to put him in his place and the only one which he cares deeply for or we wouldn't had these scenes.

Credits to lairofhorror.tripod.com A Horror fansite.

The father, now without his wife… would end up venting his frustrations at his own daughter. All of this domestic violence will end up affecting the young psyche of Hoyt…

░𝕎𝔸ℝ𝕄𝕋ℍ░ He doesn't like winter because it reminds him of his time as a POW in Korea (Based on "By Himself" comic.) One of the things he missed the most from his hometown during the war besides home made food, was the summer. Warmth. A feeling that also associates with his family. If there's a thing that the man genuinely cherishes is his home and his family. During winter, his war flashbacks probably get worse: getting more irascible, having nightmares and drinking more. He also tends to get sick during cold days.

░𝔹𝕃𝕆𝕆𝔻𝕃𝕌𝕊𝕋░ He has a thing for blood. He sucks his fingers when he has the blood of the original sheriff and also licks a glass shard that he pulled out of Bailey's chest… so he gets very freaky with that kind of stuff. Very likely that he likes to lick bleeding wounds from his female victims. A sadistic satisfaction from feeding from others' weaknesses. Dog mentality.

░ℍ𝕌ℕ𝕋𝔼ℝ░ Back at the "Dog mentality" thing I said, the comics present a small trophy room. We can see music albums, toys and comics too. The later are a kinda curious thing since he's a grown ass man, perhaps he wanted to gift them for Jed or Thomas. But then, they would be at home and not at his private "office". Maybe another projection of that may represent a lost childhood… There are also newspaper clips and, of course, female underwear. He's a collector, keeping his hunting trophies. I think his favorite kind of trinkets are female accesories since he's an old perv. His most prized ones are probably kept in a drawer in his room for "easy access". I would add pr0n mags too, could have a thing for linguere since he collects their undergarments.

░𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼░ In the comics, there are some instances of Hoyt talking about "when does Thomas will find a girl of his liking?". I personally believe he's kind of projecting, in a similar manner when he tortures his victims based on what he went through as a POW: He's expressing something about himself.

In movies we do not see this kind of dialogues but I do not think is unlikely if he has thoughts like that. As a conservative, country man that has a strong attachment to his family, he would probably consider leaving a legacy an important thing, even if said legacy is not completely made of his own flesh and blood. Both movies and comics show the Hewitts keeping the children of victims alive, as if claiming them for themselves and thus, he might want for Thomas to have a woman and continuing the family line. However, Thomas does not seem to be particulary attracted to any of the victims that appear in both media or at least not enough for sparing their lives. I think Hoyt would find that sightly dissapointing, and sometimes might consider of doing it himself: getting a woman and having a child of his very own. Yet, altough Hoyt shows interests in these young women, they are all discarded, dispossed of in the end. That's because he sees them as pieces of meat to be consumed and then moves to the next, like an alcoholic drinking bottle after bottle of licor: never fully sated. One bottle is not enough, one blonde won't ease the craving for flesh. In "The Beginning" we don't see him drinking like in the 2003 film. That vise must have started the more he got lost in his delusions, his PTSD must have gotten worse the more people he killed and abused. Now taking into consideration the aformentioned points of a possible desire for lineage, his tendency of projecting his issues on others and his violent desires that are never fully satisfied which create and trap him in a viscious cycle, I theorize the following: Hoyt might want a woman by his side, a warm body to wake up next to him and that can satisfy him in all senses and give him a son of his very own blood. He caress them, kisses them, tells them he loves them. Logically, they reject him. And so, they die. The cycle never ends, the "right" woman never shows. And never did.

In his youth he probably had flings or took advantage of women in bars knowing their unwell condition wouldn't let them to stop him or even remember him. He wasn't one for serious relationships. He was young and lived his days as they came, continuing his life as a farmer. But time went by, he got older and went to war. He came back home as a changed man, traumatized.

Illustration by me: on the left, a young Charlie. On the right, the POW.

Later, he was not the only one who was changing, the town was slowly dying too. His mind and his cherished hometown were both decaying. This must have been a breaking point for him and that's why as soon as he saw the chance to steal the identity of the original Winston Hoyt, he didn't hestated. As Hoyt, he takes what he wants when he wants it and feels powerful. He feels in control. Control that he both craves and needs in all aspects of his life since his biggest fear is being brought down to his knees and beg like what happened in Korea. That's why he strongly states that Charlie is dead once he adopts his new role as Sheriff Hoyt.

Charlie couldn't had a woman, but Hoyt can. He can have as many he wants until he gets tired, until the right one for him shows up, one to be worthy enough for him and his legacy. Charlie was beaten up and weakned, Hoyt is the one that does the beating. Charlie is dead in life, Hoyt is living at his fullest. Such is the perception of a fractured mind.

Old fanart by me, 2022.

And speaking of double identities… allow me to present my extended analysis:

『𝕋ℍ𝔼 𝕆𝕋ℍ𝔼ℝ "𝕊𝔼𝕃𝔽"』 I recently rewatched both films and was keeping an eye for background shots and Hoyt close ups for drawing references and so. This scene where he looks at himself in the window took my attention more than what it means to be.

It is also interesting to note that this Window scene happens after being scolded again by Luda Mae for getting his new role way above his head.

In the context of the movie, this is just a very humble attempt of a jumpscare. It's just Hoyt staring at the window when the final girl tries to save of what's left of her friends. Nothing more. But here I will go full creative mode and imagine this shot from both Window and Mirror scenes could be more profound, making a parallelism to another horror media: Silent Hill.

In Silent Hill 2, the player takes the role of James Sunderland. A man that gets a mysterious letter from his late wife, waiting for him at Silent Hill. The starting scene is him staring at his reflection at the mirror… Fans later discovered that James is not really looking at the mirror but at the player. Something similar we see on the SH2 remake when James learns the truth of what happened with his wife: he's avoiding looking at his reflection.

The scene is interpreted as a way to James to avoid facing his demons, his sins, the true reason why he was called in Silent Hill: to look at the face the killer of his wife. Something extremely interesting about Jame's info from offcial media is that he was conceptualized to have a doble personality. Sounds familiar, right?

On the third game of the SH games, we play as Heather Mason. She's the girl that our protagonist from the first game -Harry Mason- had to save from The Order -the main game antagonists- from using her for a ritual to summon a deadly God. Heather's lore is extensive but I will sum it up at this: Heather was "born" from another girl named Alessa Gillespie, a girl that was used by a cult to bring horrors beyond human cohomprension at the town of Silent Hill. Heather is like both twin sister and daughter of Alessa, the other half of her own flesh and mind. SH3 also has a mirror scene in early game:

By reading Heather's words, can you guess what I'm trying to talk about here and how can it be linked with Hoyt and his own mirror scenes?

I know I'm looking too much into scenes that were planned in the movie in a very superficial manner but I think that, in the end, one as a viewer can perceive art in different ways. I mean… if the actor himself gave more to the character than what the writters intented… one can do the same as a spectator. That how art is.

Now, what we see with Charlie/Hoyt is not punishment of one's sins (James) nor confronting the inner darkness that lurks in one's mind (Heather)… but to completely embrace this doppelganger that has taken full control of the self. Hoyt looks straight in the eye at his own reflection, accepting this fracture and replacement of himself. The world from the other side of the mirror calls to him to be reborn as someone new.

.

.

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Pheeeew! That has to be longest textpost I've ever written on this little blog! It was super fun, specially because I was listening to SH OST while organizing everything :) To any stranger that read the whole thing: thank you kindly.

[akajustmerry]

I didn't really like the helmet grab by Michonne in towl. I didn't think it was necessary for them to make her do that even though I know they were trying to show how angry she was. Am I overthinking this?

forgive me but I actually think you're not thinking enough. You're not thinking about what's happened from michonne's perspective. even if you were, you're not extending her any empathy because writing off her as just "angry" does not cut it here

....Michonne had to carry on believing rick was dead for FIVE YEARS, raising their kids despite that grief and then when she was given the smallest hope he was alive she gave up another 2 years with her kids, risking her life in the wastelands, surviving chlorine poisoning, and enduring more fucking trauma with nothing keeping her going but the fact that she loved him and would not give up looking...... AND THEN she finds him against all those odds and rick had the CAUCACITY to try and trick her into ABANDONING HIM and insinuate that she DOESN'T TRULY LOVE HIM UNLESS SHE DOES??? of fucking COURSE she rips that dumb fucking helmet off his head!! she wants him to say that nonsense to her FACE, hear how insane it sounds, and be greeted with the only appropriate response to an assertion so ludicrous: silence.

When my dad and I watched that episode we both agreed rick actually got off easy for trying to pull that shit after what michonne had been through. My dad even left the room when rick was bragging about his stoopid plan to trick michonne into leaving to jadis because my dad is very sensitive to second hand embarrassment and rick was so fucking idiotic for trying to do that to michonne and thinking it would work.

ALSO.....something that I've ranted about before is this idea of an empathy gap between how people see white characters and characters of colour (ESPECIALLY Black characters) because such is the racism of the world that people simply don't empathise or even sympathise with characters of colour because they've been conditioned not to. Years of racist media conditions you to empathise with white characters almost instinctively even when they're wrong. In this case, rick was wrong. Totally wrong, despite his intentions. He was dishonest, condescending, and inconsiderate. Michonne had every right to be angry and every right to show him how angry she was. The fact that you're uncomfortable with that maybe means you haven't really paid mind to what michonne has been through and maybe you haven't done that because she's a Black woman. Personally, I loved that scene so much and I also love all the scenes in ep4 where she's pissed off because michonne isn't just rick's love interest she's a protagonist in her own right and she's NEVER not once accepted less, even from him.

anyway, hope you don't think I'm being mean! I've just seen weird discourse about that scene that is so unnecessary. It simply wouldn't be a thing if people actually cared about michonne as a character, rather than just as one half of a ship.

[something-wild-calls]

Modded by @loupy-mongoose.

Jamie Wild was a character originally created as a trainersona more than a decade ago, who gradually evolved into a character all her own and ended up the protagonist of a yet-unpublished Soul Silver Nuzlocke called Shadowed Soul. In recent years, after these many years of building her character and the Pokemon world around her, I've been wanting to make her completely my own, world and all.

Someday I still hope to tell her Nuzlocke story and keep up with her in the Linden Roots world, but here I will be giving an alternate version of that story--Some elements will remain the same or minimally changed, while some changes will be drastic. So both stories will hold their own merit, when comes time to tell them both. :>

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Asks Notice:

I'm having the inbox open only so that people can ask about specific curiosities, and allow for prompt inspiration. This is not an interaction or Role Play blog! I won't say it's impossible, but any asks worded as such will likely not be answered as such, and may not be answered at all. That being said, I do reserve the right to answer as I see fit. XD

For now I will leave anonymous available, but I will turn it off if anyone chooses to act in ill-will or with weird intentions.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Some notes about this story:

-The setting is the same world as my other story The Matters of Life and Death. So some things, such as staffwyrms and the way magic works, is the same between stories.

-I currently plan to tell it in a slice-of-life manner, probably through mixed means of comic, artworks, answered asks, and potentially writings.

-My aim with this blog and story is to have fun above all else! It's something I feel I shouldn't have to say, but at the same time I also feel I've lost touch with that particular motive. So I'm hoping to remind myself that my art and stories are mine, and are for my entertainment first and foremost.

For those interested in this old tale being made new, welcome! I hope you enjoy the journey! ^w^

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Content warnings under the Read More (To save space.)

WARNINGS LIST FOR THIS BLOG (Subject to updates)

DEATH INJURY/BLOOD VIOLENCE SPIRITUAL/SOUL DISCUSSION. (Not really in a Christian sense, but I'll try to tag it as such if it gets too close.) CHILD ABUSE CHILD NEGLECT CHILD INJURY/ENDANGERMENT CHILD ABANDONMENT

Related Tags to mute if desired:

#TW: Death -- #TW: Injury -- #TW: implied injury -- #TW: Blood -- #TW: Violence -- #TW: Christianity (If it comes up, but I don't expect it to.) -- #TW: Child Abuse -- #TW: Child Neglect -- #TW: Child injury -- #TW: Child Endangerment -- #TW: Child Abandonment

[598-inspiration]

Kaisei's Dark Feminine Energy and the Rejection of Traditionalism

Kaisei is a rather difficult character to understand within the story of Akane Banashi, his actions often go against his words, and its hard to tell what his real intentions are sometimes, even to characters that have known him for a long time.

As I mentioned in my previous post, Issho's transgenerational trauma may unintentionally be leaving a dark influence on Kaisei, however Kaisei won't end up going the same route as Issho who is obsessed with the legacy of his previous master.

The plan is laid out from here, Issho wants to bring in more young talent to kick out of the way the system by seniority that has plagued the world of Rakugo for years. It is a complete lack of traditionalistic values that have carried the career for years. And Kaisei is a rather unconventional Rakugoka.

Kaisei's dark feminine energy is the backbone of his Rakugo

Dark feminine energy is the opposite of the divine, they put themselves first, are selfish, unapologetic, angry and use underhanded methods like seduction to get what they want. It falls under the same category as a femme fatale.

Kaisei's is known for his seductive female roles, which is rather similar to Urara's rakugo.

Toyoshiga the shamisen player, is Kaisei's proxy character in his Rakugo stories.

Both stories that he has performed in front of Akane so far, has Toyoshiga as a central character. Despite being talented in music, she is characterized by jealousy and is delusional and hateful.

Kaisei's mom was kind. However, she was kind to a fault. Between his dead beat biological dad who abandoned him, and his frustration with his mother who was just willing to forgive and forget the mistreatment from other men in her life until she was pushed into a corner, it's pretty obvious why he would be drawn to playing this kind of character.

Scorned, entitled, angry at any perceived disrespect from someone else. Toyoshiga is the embodiment of Kaisei's anger and resentment towards the world.

Aside from his friendlier attitude towards Akane, Kaisei is rather hostile towards his fellow Rakugoka. Ignoring them at best, and being standoffish and straight up disrespectful at worst.

He has no Rakugoka friends, and doesn't care for adhering to the system of respecting his seniors. This is reflected on his Rakugo as he goes out of his way to crush whoever else has the misfortune of performing in the same show as him. Which is stark contrast to Akane.

His relationship with Issho seems to be rather complicated. Its hard to tell how he feels about his master beyond seeking his stand of approval, and even that may not be due to having any respect or loyalty for him.

Its a means to an end.

What's interesting is that in Kaisei's eyes Issho appears in the same borderline demonic aura in which Akane sees him.

And while he tried to recruit Akane at first to be Issho's student and help fulfill his goals, this was prior to her becoming Shiguma's pupil.

Knowing Issho's contempt for the current Shiguma and his students, keeping Akane a secret was nothing short of Kaisei protecting her from what he perceived would be a threat to her.

Not to mention respecting her decision on the path and master she chose herself.

Akane is really people-smart, and while Kaisei's second performance may have seen like a act of intimidation to those aware of his open hostility towards other Rakugokas, it was actually him helping by showing her that she still needed to improve more to catch up to him, and give her an opportunity to perform in the same show as him.

And I think this is supported by him showing up to see how she was doing even after her lost (his "Ikken called for him" excuse, doesn't really hold up considering we saw Ikken talking to the other judges later on instead). This was his best attempt at consoling someone.

Kaisei does have a dark side to him, however I don't think it has ever extended towards Akane, and he actually cares a lot for her.

There's a number of interpretations to his exchange with Rokuro, but I fully believe that he wants Akane to inherit Shiguma's art and he doesn't want Rokuro to take this chance from her.

But like I mentioned with Issho, Kaisei is also not a fully black or white character and shouldn't be judged as such, and there's a lot of aspects to him that remain a mystery.

[turbulentscrawl]

Heyy! Could you write a most-to-least compatible with a clingy!reader with the survivors maybe?

I love your works and find myself rereading them a lot, they're really stellar!! •v•

Thank you, I'm glad you like my work!! (I added Ithaqua, I couldn't resist)

Emma wants to be with you all hours of the day, craves it. She wants to never be alone again. If you want the same, then it’s nothing short of a match made in heaven, right?

(Bonus) Ithaqua is not #1 only because he doesn’t like if you get desperate about him having to leave for matches. Like, first of all, he doesn’t get a say and there’s nothing he can do. Second of all, he enjoys terrorizing the little survivors. This is his Me-Time. Any other time he adores having you wrapped around his finger—and a little separation pouting is endearing, but any more than that and he gets frustrated.

Eli is incredibly patient. He loves your company and doesn’t mind a shadow most of the time. But as he’s somewhat of a figurehead and confidant in the manor, he will sometimes need private time with other inhabitants. It’s for their privacy, you see, surely you understand. Otherwise, he doesn’t mind you sticking by his side!

Andrew won’t ever say it, but you liking his company so much sooths a lot of his soul-aches and worries. He does like some occasional quiet time, but otherwise he likes that you would choose time with him over time alone.

Antonio loves his darling’s company…but he also knows it’s important to give his friends some quality time too. (And he has a good amount of friends, despite fate’s intentions.) It’s only fair, right? Surely you can wait a bit. He’ll find you again later to share a bottle of wine.

Ganji similarly likes a good amount of time with his partner…but he’s also quite used to being alone and gets irritable when he doesn’t get any decompression time alone. Make sure he gets like five hours to do his own thing, and he’ll be alright the rest of the time.

Melly doesn’t know what to do with you most of the time. It’s not that she dislikes having you around, but rather she feels awkward. Is she…supposed to be doing something with you? Is she expected to entertain you? She’ll deal with this better after some reassurance and comfort, but otherwise struggles with subconscious expectations about her duties as a partner.

Emily can appreciate clinginess from a medical standpoint. You’ve got some abandonment wounds, yes? You’re afraid of being left behind. She will do her best to accommodate you, but unfortunately she has to work the infirmary most nights and you can’t just loiter in there. Respect her work hours and she’ll make it work the rest of the time.

Orpheus is busy with his own things a good chunk of the time, but as long as it’s not anything private he doesn’t mind sharing space with you. You can even sit on his lap while he’s busy writing…just don’t distract him with inane chatter. And when he says he’s busy, respect that.

Norton avoids you for your own good, alright? Don’t make this difficult. He’s not answering any questions about the hows and the whys, and begging will get you nowhere. When he’s able to have you around, rest assured he’ll be around. He wants to be around you. But whenever he leaves you be, it’s because you’re safer that way.

Luchino also has work. Even in the manor, he’s not giving up on his research, his life’s work. It’s better if you let him come to you. Make plans with him; he’ll never be late, never forget you. But he has work and even as his s/o you can’t be allowed to distract him.

[ashes-writing-corner]

And we are back, literally on time for Nosferatu to come out! Yall gifmakers are gifts from the gods I swear! Thank you for all you do! And to those who read my story and enjoy it, yall are gifts too and I love all of you ^^

Taglist: @exactlyelegantwizard, @xenoanamorph, @hoeia-strigoi, @arwenkenobi48, @xanth420, @serpentdeath, and @landlockedmermaid77

If you want to be added to the taglist please let me know ^^

On to chapter 3!

Exile: A Nosferatu Fanfic

Chapter 3

You're not my homeland anymore. So what am I defending now?

Ellen was at a loss. She honestly had no idea what to do. How could this have happened? How could she have been so blind? Ever eternally…and the Beast had seriously meant it. Even in death they couldn't be parted. There had to be a way…something…anything. This was not how she wanted to spend her eternal rest, lying next to the monster who made her life a living hell.

Not just her life. Thomas’ too for the brief time he knew of the situation. Her beloved Thomas…she couldn’t help but wonder about him now. Where was he? Was he even alive? Ellen didn’t take him for the sort to take his own life, and she would be devastated if that were the case. He had been her everything after the Beast abandoned her initially.

Oh yes, he left her. He left her alone when she needed him most. Left her with nothing but trauma and a severely scarred soul and a heart to match. It had hurt, even if Ellen wouldn’t admit it aloud. She didn’t understand why he had pulled away so harshly, so suddenly. But he stopped answering her, stopped visiting her, leaving her with this numbing sadness. She had waited, and waited, weeks turning to months, before she met Thomas.

He had been one of the few suitors her father had found for her. He wasn’t rich, nor did he have a well known name, but Thomas was hard working, honest, and decent. All were qualities her dear papa had liked and respected about him. Despite her oddities, he was so kind to her, so warm, courteous, and gentle. A better suitor couldn’t be asked for. So no surprise they courted and finally Thomas asked her to marry him, which Ellen was quick to accept.

With her acceptance, she thought that was the end of it. The Demon was gone, she was happy, and had all she wanted. Ellen didn’t need wealth or a nice house or material things. She just wanted a peaceful, happy life with her sweetheart. That was all.

But of course, the dead can never stay dead for long…

Furie whined softly next to her on the bed, his ears flattened as if sensing her emotions. For a hound literally named Rage, he seemed to have very little of it. The wolfhound had literally stayed by her side for the past two days, keeping watch over her for his master. The Beast hadn’t come back, just as Ellen commanded, and it made her wonder: Was he bound still by her power? Did she still hold some sort of sway over him, even in death?

Ellen had tried to be kind in a sense. She had to kill him, there was no doubt in her mind about that. He needed to die. But she had tried to be kind as it happened, for the sake of what they once were to each other. That was only fair wasn’t it? Ellen had tried to give him one last kiss, one last small gesture of love before they were both gone. It was only meant to be kind, as a way to let go of what once was.

She gently pet Furie. “It’s okay. I’m alright. I promise. I just…have a lot on my mind”.

The wolfhound looked at her, his ears perked as if he were listening intently. Ellen chuckled, her first laugh since her death.

“I don’t know if you’d be able to understand. But…I don’t really have anyone else to talk to I suppose-”.

Furie whined, as if attempting to remind her there was someone she could talk to. Ellen shook her head.

“Trust me, I would rather much talk to you more than him. At least you don’t try to tell me I did the right thing for the wrong reason” Ellen paused, “I don’t understand. I don’t understand any of this. I know what the covenant said but I thought with death it would be done. I could be free. But I’m not and I don’t know why”.

She knew why. It said Ever Eternally…but she didn’t understand why that meant even after death. Ellen got up and looked out the window, peering out the expansive, glistening surroundings. For a second she thought she heard a voice, a soft collective of voices, on the wind calling her name somewhere in the distance. It sounded like the whispers of every person she ever knew: Thomas, Papa, Freidrich and Anna and their children, even the Demon’s voice could be heard among them. Ellen felt her mind go blank a moment, her eyes going a strange milky white color as though she had died again. Furie rose from the bed and growled, followed by a sharp bark, pulling Ellen back to herself.

She took a deep breath and blinked several times to recollect herself. Ellen turned to the dog, calming herself a little as he came to her side and whined, nuzzling her hand. She pet him, breathing deeply as her mind and spirit settled back into her body. What in the world was that, that strange call?

Ellen kept a hand on Furie’s head. “Good boy. Thank you…thank you so much. I think I might’ve been in a little bit of trouble had I somehow answered that”.

Furie whined, wagging his tail at her praise. He had sensed something was amiss and had been quick to pull his mistress back from what he thought was something that could and would seriously harm her. He was entrusted with her safety after all, and the wolfhound clearly took that job to heart.

“It’s always snowing here” Ellen looked outside again thoughtfully, “How about we go outside and do something fun?”

The wolfhound cocked his head curiously and Ellen smiled as she got up to change. She wasn’t sure if she really needed to dress warmly in this world, but she figured it was better to be safe than sorry. The wardrobe was shockingly full of clothes she remembered wearing in the other world…and there were others in there she had never seen. Older dresses, some furs that looked like they hadn’t been touched in ages. These weren’t hers. But yet, somehow, they felt familiar. The texture, the smell hiding beneath years of unuse…she knew these older articles of clothing somewhere. Again, it was like a memory from a dream she had a long time ago…

“Let go” she heard a voice sound in her head, one that was eerily similar to her own, but not quite hers, “Please…you have to let go…for me…”

In her mind’s eye, Ellen could see the image of a woman with a face like hers, but her hair was a shining copper color, and her eyes a deep blue tinged with green. She looked pale, deathly so, laying in bed looking at her dead in the eye. Her pale blue-purple lips trembled as she reached a quivering hand out to her.

“Please…love…I’m afraid…”

Ellen dropped the fur coat immediately, frightened by the dream. It was like looking at her own pale, dying face in a mirror. Only the reflection had spoken to her. She set the coat back in the wardrobe and grabbed one of her own warmer outfits for her outside activities, which Ellen wasn’t even sure if she wanted to do anymore.

No, no, she did want to. She needed to get out of this castle, out of this room, even for a short while. Even if it was to do something silly and childish with a large wolfhound at her side. Ellen redressed herself and motioned for Furie to follow her, something akin to excitement blooming in her chest. She hadn’t done this particular activity since she was little and she always loved doing it.

She made her way outside, surprisingly avoiding the Demon. Ellen glanced around, rendered breathless by the glistening snow around her. It was as though the grounds of the castle were being purified under a blanket of white. Ellen stepped out, the soft snow giving out a satisfying crunch under her booted feet. Furie followed behind her, his tail wagging in excitement. He liked being outside, but liked it even more with her it seemed.

Ellen found a nice, clear spot to begin her work. She made a ball, small enough to fit in her gloved hand and slowly started to roll it around to increase its size. Her troubles seemed far away as she worked, her mind drifting to happier times. Furie moved the ball too with his head and Ellen laughed.

“Trying to help me now?” She asked and gave him a pet, “such a good, sweet boy. I don't get why he called you Furie. You're anything but” Ellen stopped in her work to give the wolfhound pets along his chin and chest. All the while his tail kept wagging in delight.

“You are the sweetest thing I swear” she put her nose to his and giggled, feeling very much like a little girl again.

Ellen turned back to her task, and Furie joined her in pushing the ball around. Little did they know, the third hound, Durere, had spotted them outside and ran back in to tell his sister and master about it.

He let out several barks to Orlok, as if trying to articulate what he saw. The vampire glared.

“She's outside?” He got up and glanced out a nearby window.

Lo and behold, there was his Little Soul, rolling a large ball of snow around with Furie, before finally settling it somewhere. What in the world was she doing out there? Chaos still called for her, and she was still susceptible to its call. It wasn't safe to be out there alone. Orlok turned from the window, grabbing his enormous coat to go out and keep an eye on her…

“I think we can start on the body now, hm Furie?” Ellen asked, to which the wolfhound barked and wagged his tail.

She turned to start a new ball, this one to be slightly smaller than the other, when Ellen felt her blood run cold. An all too familiar shadow fell over her, and she knew it was the Beast. She sighed and stopped rolling the ball as Furie barked a greeting to his master. Ellen stood, facing him fully for the first time since they found themselves here to see him petting all three wolfhounds.

“You’ve named him poorly” she dared to say, “There’s not an ounce of rage in him”.

“Because you haven’t seen him angry…yet” Orlok replied, looking over at the large ball of snow, “What is it you’re doing, Micul Suflet?”.

Ellen stifled the urge to glare at the nickname. “I would appreciate it if you used my name…And what does it look like I’m doing? I’m making a…a snowman”.

He raised a brow. “A what?”

“A snowman. Have you never…” she stopped when he just looked contemplative, as if the concept of such a winter activity was foreign to him, “You’ve never made one before, have you?”

“Such things were considered a waste of time back in my youth. I spent the winters studying, learning and preparing for my role” He told her, almost avoiding her eyes.

“You never even got to do such things? Just…do childish things like this?”.

Ellen didn’t need an answer. His silence and avoidance were more than enough of an answer. Honestly it hurt something in her to know that. Maybe that was a part of the problem, why he turned out like this. Ellen took a single step toward him, a hand reaching for his.

“Come…join me. Help me with this” she requested, “Please?”

He pulled his long clawed hand away from her, shaking his head. “It’s a childish waste of-”.

“Stop. Right now. Time doesn’t mean anything anymore. It’s okay. We can do things like this. No one’s here to stop us or judge us or anything. Who cares if it’s childish? A time spent in merriment isn’t wasted time, even if time was still relevant to us” Ellen looked in his eyes, “A passionate hour is never a wasted one. Help me with this…Just once”.

Orlok narrowed his eyes at her and then the huge ball of snow. He sighed in annoyance and shook his head.

“Fine…Once, and that’s it” he conceded.

“Once is all I ask” she smiled coyly, like a cat who had just caught her prey. Her first genuine smile since they appeared here.

But even that was enough to make something in his chest feel awfully warm…

If you guys enjoyed this please feel free to like, reblog, and comment! If you wanna read more of my work, feel free to follow! Thank you all so much for reading and I'll see you in the next one ^^ <3

[shiv4nii]

A Porcelain Doll.

Platonic ! Fluff/Angst : child GN! reader x diagnosed mother

Synopsis: Loving you. Loving you costs bending through reality. Yet your mother cherished you, no matter what it costs.

TW! : mentions of hallucinations, miscarriage, Intentional nonadherence ( when a sick patient intentionally forgets to take their medication ).

Note : This was supposed to be published yesterday, but decided to add more. I don't know if this is good or not, it's my first time writting angst and I think this is kind of rushed(?), so if there are errors my bad ^^

enjoy!

Whenever you were with your mother, a familiar lullaby would drift from your mother's lips as she brushed your hair with utmost care, her voice was gentle and her sweet scent filled the room.

You knew how she cared and cherished you. She would shower you with unconditional love as if the world was ending.

Afterall, you were her one and only precious child.

Ever since she gave birth to you, her husband had seemingly abandoned her side without explanation. It was almost unbelievable to her, how could he just leave her like that, especially after she had just brought you into the world? Did he have no remorse?

Her heart ached for the pain her husband's departure caused, but she never let it affect her love for you. You were her child, and she would always cherish you.

She wouldn't let her pain dictate her actions. A mother's love was a promise, and she was determined to keep hers.

Knowing how much it pained you to learn your father had left you during your birth, she oathed to herself that she would do anything to protect you, to spare you the pain of your father leaving, even if it meant sacrificing her own happiness. You were just a child after all, innocent and unaware of the world's harsh realities.

Your mother was determined to provide everything you needed, filling the gap left by your father's absence. She wanted you to have the best life she never had.

A porcelain doll. She started to treat you like a porcelain doll. You were her only child, a precious treasure she treated with the same delicate care one might give a porcelain doll.

She would gently brush your hair, tuck you into bed, bathe you with love, read you your favorite book every night, and feed you her delicious home-cooked meals. Every thing that a mother would do to her child if she loved them that much.

Your mother had paid such close attention to you that even at two years old, she knew your favorite things. She especially knew you loved going on walks, she knew your favorite dessert, knew your favorite food, favorite color, favorite letter, favorite number, — anything.

Your happiness was her happiness. She would smile whenever you laughed, giggled, or showed any sign of joy whenever she would let you have your favorite things, her heart would swell.

However, she couldn't understand why people would give her dirty looks when she took you outside. Was it so unusual for a mother to spend time with her child? Didn't everyone deserve to enjoy a simple outing with their child?

It only made her to protect you more, She couldn't bear the thought of you being hurt by those who would give you dirty looks and speak ill of you when you grow up.

Yet, She found it strange and couldn't help but wonder why people would hesitate to speak to her whenever she took you outside.  It was as if they were holding back something, but couldn't quite bring themselves to say it.

Her instincts screamed at her. Something wasn't right, she could feel it in her bones. She had tried everything, but the truth continued to run away from her.  She was starting to wonder if she would ever find out what was really going on.

Sometimes, your mother would ask you if she had done something wrong, if she had made a mistake.  You, with your innocent heart, would always reply with a cheerful "No," reassuring her worries.

Despite her efforts to dismiss it, a deep sense of unease roamed around her. Something was wrong, she couldn't shake the feeling.

Ding!

The door opened disrupting her thoughts, and a sense of comfort filled her as she saw you. Her mood instantly lifted; you were her safe place, her reason to be happy.

You held up the paper with a beaming smile, showing her the drawing you had made.  It was a picture of you and her, both happy, in your cozy home.

She gently took the paper, a warm smile spreading across her face as she admired your work. For a moment, her worries seemed to fade, replaced by a sense of comfort.

"Mother? ... You look sad... Did I do something wrong?" Your innocent question, filled with concern, hung in the air.

She gently touched your cheek, her smile slightly strained. "You did nothing, honey," she said, her voice soothing. "It's just Mommy's worried about something..." She paused, her smile softening. "It's really nothing to worry about."

You weren't convinced. You gently tugged at her shirt, your brow crinkled. "Mommy, did you take your medicine? The doctor said you have to..."

Medicine, right. A few years ago, your mother was diagnosed with something, but she didn't tell you. She didn't want you to worry, because you're still so young. She wants you to focus on yourself. You wish you could help her.

Mommy always forgets to take her medicine. She's not old, but she's so busy taking care of you that she forgets about herself. You understand, though. You know how much she loves you, so you'd always remind her.

But she always felt uneasy whenever she took her medication. It was like she was afraid of it. She was worried something bad would happen, and she couldn't imagine leaving you without her care. So she'd avoid taking it and kept forgetting.

She prepared the medicine and water, her movements automatic as she swallowed it. She blinked slowly, the familiar discomfort settling in as she swallowed the medication.

She blinked, and blinked, her eyes darting around the room, and blinked again.  

Where were you?  

Panic surged through her as she frantically searched for you.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as she searched for you, her voice trembling as she called your name, her fear growing with each moment.

Thud!

Her eyes darted to the source of the sound, her mind reeling as she saw the porcelain doll. It looked so much like you, it was almost unsettling.

This couldn't be you, right?  You were real, her child, the one she cherished and held close.  This couldn't be happening to her, not after all she'd been through.

Her mind must be playing tricks on her.  All those years you were— her eyes landed on a picture, an ultrasound, a picture of you still in her womb.

A reminder.

It was a cruel reminder of the day that she had lost you.

A cruel reminder that life was awful to her. To you.

She frowned, her stomache tightened with discomfort.  It was always like this, a strange feeling that wandered around whenever she took her medication.  She shouldn't have.  She knew it.  Because in the blink of an eye, you would disappear, and the thought of that.. wants to make her disappear also with you.

She take the thought of losing you again, not twice.  The memory of that day, the day you slipped away, was a wound that never quite healed.  It was a deep wound in her heart, The longing made her realize how easily happiness could be lost, how easily you could've disappear.

She needed to stop.  She needed to stop taking the medication, even if it she felt pain, and discomfort .  She couldn't gamble with life and lose you again, twice.  Not when you the only reason she woke up each morning, the only reason she kept going.

The thought of a life without you was hard.  It was a life she couldn't imagine, a life she wouldn't want to live when you weren't with her.  You were her everything, her reason for being, for living, for everything.

She couldn't lose you again.  Not twice.  Not ever.

She needed to find a way, a way to be always with you, a way to keep you close, a way to make sure you stayed with her.  She needed to find a way, even if it meant ignoring the doctors, going against logic, and breaking through reality.

Anything.

She would find a way.  She had to.  For you.  For her.  She wanted nothing more than to share a happy life with you.

She had to find a way.

[characteroulette]

Since I finally got an answer to the Apollo character question, let's look into it!

Apollo is the player character. The player surrogate. Like Phoenix in his debut game, he doesn't reveal much more about himself besides his personality. He's less obviously unhinged as Phoenix, begrudgingly resigning himself to the whims of his new assistant and his new deadbeat boss, making him the perfect pawn in Phoenix's game. Even when Apollo asks questions, wanting to know why he's doing any of this, the answers he gets are either cryptic or nonexistent. So he sighs and complains to himself, but continues trudging along anyway.

He appears, to those not looking for it, complacent. He appears then, to those same people, as if he has no wants or desires for himself. Nothing to motivate him besides the need for the plot to continue.

But that just isn't true.

Apollo may not have the deeply personal motivation of Phoenix in the first game (to save Edgeworth), at least not yet, but he is still motivated by something intrinsically personal to him: to be a defence attorney. It's smaller, less in your face, but the thing Apollo wants most is to do his job as a lawyer. We spend the entirety of the first part of 4-2 with him bemoaning that this isn't in his job description, he's a lawyer, not a detective. But that brings about his second driving force in his life: he wants to find the truth.

This might seem counter to how he's presented at first glance. After all, if he wants to find the truth, then why did he never look into the case that disbarred Phoenix? How did he not even know his previous boss had such a famous brother?

Well, it's because of that first character trait we rub up against: Apollo takes the path of least resistance. A learned behaviour no doubt from his experiences in his life (being an orphan, being abandoned, having to fight and care for himself at every step of the way to his goal of becoming a defence attorney).

Yes, we don't really learn /why/ he wants to be a defence attorney. Not yet, at least. But what deeper reasoning does he need? It's a job he feels calling to him, to dig into the truth and defend those who may need it. He says to Trucy that his talent is defending; he considers it his best asset, even over his Chords of Steel. It's very notable that, upon learning his clients are all not as innocent as they first appear, he doesn't immediately turn on them. He continues to defend Wocky despite his intent to kill a man, he stays with Machi despite his part in the smuggling, he doesn't abandon Vera despite her being the true forger. It's also notable that when Phoenix reveals his trick in painting over the truth, of the trap used to snare Kristoph, Apollo is upset enough to punch him. Right there in the courtroom. And while it breaks Apollo's trust in Phoenix's word, he still never once considers leaving the man. He still searches for a crumb of belief, of praise, which Phoenix is rather cruel about yanking away from him at every chance he gets.

Apollo's motivations run deep, colour how he interacts with everyone around him, even if it's easy to misread them due to his complacency. The way that 4-4 ends, with Phoenix having to finally come clean and include Apollo in on the whole trap, I think is the reason why Apollo doesn't continue begrudging Phoenix after that point. Phoenix literally finally gives Apollo all he's been asking for from the man: the full truth and acceptance. Phoenix trusting Apollo with this torch is an acknowledgement of Apollo's skills, of his place as an attorney, so of course Apollo doesn't think twice about presenting a second piece of fabricated evidence. (In my heart, he will always be mad about it, but Apollo very clearly does not hold grudges. Apollo embodies Nahyuta's catchphrase better than he ever could; simply let it go, and move on.)

And it makes sense. He's had no space to really hold onto grudges if he wants to survive. If he truly wishes to be a defender, to dig until the truth is laid bare in court, then he has to let things go and keep moving forward. He has to continue walking towards the future, not dwelling on his past, because that's how he's kept his head above water and kept faith in his profession for so long.

(This can connect to Dual Destinies as well. His wavering faith in Athena makes sense with this mindset; the truth is important to Apollo, so of course he recoils and retreats when he feels he's being lied to. Of course he defaults back on taking care of things on his own, it's all he's ever known. But that's not the focus here so I won't dig more into it.)

It also helps make sense as to why he doesn't regard Kristoph as a complete monster after everything. He clearly worshipped Kristoph, to the point of being willfully ignorant to all of Kristoph's jabs and passive aggressive comments about his ability. That love doesn't just go away because Kristoph turned out to be the worst. That Kristoph was a murderer doesn't just erase the fact that he wasn't lying to Apollo in his tutelage. (Kristoph may not have taught him much, but he does explain the game mechanics and that is something at least!) Up until the end, Apollo doesn't see Kristoph as the devil he truly is because why would he? The man gave him a job. Kristoph and Phoenix both similarly use Apollo as their pawn, but at least Kristoph wasn't bold facedly a jerk about it. It's only after Kristoph's darkness is revealed by the mountain of investigations Phoenix has performed does Apollo finally see Kristoph for the liar he is.

But he doesn't begrudge the guy. Kristoph is evil, but he's also not worth ruminating on. It's better to keep moving forward and continuing to forge his own path.

I do get it. It's easy to miss Apollo's deeply rooted motivations when Phoenix's whole deal is front and centre. It's easy to think of Apollo as a simple player surrogate when he's being dragged along by the plot. But it doesn't change the fact that all of his character is right there for you to see. All his personality, his motivations, and the explanations for both are within the text! But then again, that didn't stop them from dialing back Phoenix's character as it was laid bare here, so I suppose I'll have to agree to disagree on this point.