#and i really do wish we didn’t have to go to war just saying that

[mxtxfanatic]

Not mxtx critiquing how you can’t make villains 3-dimensional without people starting whole fandom wars over it because people can’t accept a villain being both terrible AND sympathetic due to their background.

And what did the fandoms surrounding her books do when she made her villains 3D?

[cottagecore-moss-king]

Not so Artificial Intelligence Part 2

When Bruce finally managed to get the time to look at the file Danny had added to the bat computer, it was almost patrol, and the rest of the family was filling in to get ready to head out. Even Jason had shown up, but that was probably just because he was bribed by Alfred with leftovers from dinner. Bruce couldn’t really blame him, Alfred’s food was the best in the world, but he does wish that he would show up more often just to hang out with him and his siblings.

Bruce sat in the bat-chair, graciously labeled with a sticker from a recent prank by Stephanie. She had gone around and labeled everything in the bat cave, but added the bat suffix in front. It had taken forever to find most of them, but he allowed some of them to remain. 

Finding the new folder was easy, it was labeled FROM DANNY, and left in the middle of the screen. Clicking it open and sipping his fresh coffee he glanced at the first document. The folder was full of notes, pictures and videos, but all of the previews were white, green, or black. 

Bruce started to read through the document, and chocked on his coffee at the contents.

Hello Batman and family, I hope this reached you before they do. I didn’t bring this up just incase you knew and were supportive, but how you act and how contaminated you are I will assume you do not. There is a Government Law that declares any being that has come into contact with enough or creates ectoplasm as non-sentient and non-sapient, but at the same time malicious {Abbreviated the AEA}. We are to be turned over to the GIW to be experiment upon and exterminated. This is literal torture, and I have gathered as much evidence as me and my friends could without being caught. I beg you, please be careful if you decide to take these people down. From what is on here, I think that Lazarus Water is a form of corrupted ectoplasm. Also, anyone who has died and come back to life no matter what are counted, and anyone with godly blood within them. Please Please, save us. My parents are the leading “scientists” which is bullshit, and they’ve already tied me down once. I can’t go through that again. Please, Amity and the Infinite Realms need help. If you don’t help us, I’m scared we may be forced to go to war, and I don’t think you can win against the godly dead. 

Please, I’m begging you - Danny Fenton {King Phantom}

“You good B?” Nightwing asked strolling over casually. He didn’t know how to answer, how was he supposed to say ‘Oh yeah, just found out that the government calls us non-sentient\sapient, and we are to be experimented and slaughtered. Also if we don’t stop them our worlds probably going to fall and we’re all going to die a painful death.’ That’s a fun conversation to have.

Clearing his throat he finally spoke up. 

“Red Robin, Oracle, I need you to help me sort through these, Nightwing, get the Justice league ready for an emergency meeting, call the Dark too. Look at this.”

“Are we sure it’s real though? It could be a prank,” muttered Oracle, though even she doubted her words.

“Even so, the threat is there and we should certainly look through this, and that means the League needs to know.”

Batman carefully mourned the loss of a peaceful evening, and his coffee, he was going to need to leave that at the cave, he had an image to keep. 

Nightwing wasn’t smiling anymore, Robin looked concerned, and Red Hood was openly gawking at the screen.

“I’ve called the emergency meeting, you three sort these files out, I’m calling up the JLD now. Guess we should warn Constantine to bring a couple extra bottles huh.” His joke fell flat, but Bruce wonders if he should bring some alcohol and coffee with him, image be dammed. 

“Wait a second, godly blood included? They fuckn’ shittin’ on Diana!”

“That’s what your concerned about Todd? Not that the we both fall under these parameters, along with Father and the rest of the collection? I will go fetch Thomas from his chambers, he will need to suit up to follow us to the watchtower.”

“Good idea Damian, tell him to hurry up. Everyone else, in the Zeta Tube, Alfred, you can stay here if you want.” Bruce gathered his laptop and moved the file over, copying and sending it to Tims laptop as well. 

“Thank you master Bruce, I will wait for the younger masters then I will be up shortly. Run along now.” Alfred excused with a bow, but even his face was shadowed in worry and thinly veiled anger. 

“See you in a bit Alf.” Dick replied, inputting directions to the watchtower in and doing a quick headcount. 

With a flash, the dark gloomy cave was replaced by fluorescent lights and the steel infrastructure of the watchtower. Hopping off the platform another flash of light appeared, and Aquaman stepped out. The group filled out as Aquaman politely greeted them. Making their way to the nearest meeting room, Batman and Red Robin began to set things up as the gathered heroes began to sit. 

“Hey Nightwing, what’s with the meeting, you never call for an emergency meeting, Blüd rarely has big threats.” Flash mentioned as he zoomed into the meeting room, last as always, and began to dig into his waffle plate. Where he got waffles from, Bruce didn’t want to know, they weren’t serving waffles in the cafeteria today, or yesterday from leftovers. 

“This isn’t just Blüdhaven, it’s all of the united States.” He worried, checking over one final time to make sure everyone was here. A collection of the main heroes from the Justice League, they’d need to figure out who counted as ecto-contaminated before throwing people around, and Constantine, Zatanna, and Deadman were gathered to represent Justice League Dark. At least he assumed Deadman was there, as a chair was pulled out and labeled for him. At least they wouldn’t have to race to find him, they could tell him just to stay up in the watchtower if things got bad. Finally, Robin and Signal rushed in, signal tiredly rubbing his eyes and his helmet in Agent A’s hands. 

“As some of you know, a person got stuck in the batcomputer a couple months ago. And was only recently released.” Murmurs and imputed questions rose around, and Nightwing promptly ignored them. 

“They left behind a file for us, and we were looking through it and discovered many hidden crimes from the US government. They have taken and labeled a whole species and group of people as non-sentient and non-sapient, and have been experimenting and committing genocide on them.” Again, a chorus of questions and yelling went up, and Nightwing had to take a moment to pause. A glance at Martian Manhunter reviled a stone cold face, quietly waiting for more information. 

“Oh god… what is this?” 

[hopelessromantic5]

King Arthur happens to be traveling through Ealdor the exact day the citizens decide they’ve had enough of Merlin.

Labeling him too dangerous, they tied him up on the pyre in the center of town.

As long as Merlin had been alive, he’d never seen this pyre lit.

He would’ve just gotten himself out of this situation with his ‘gifts’ if it weren’t for his poor mother.

The villagers would never let her live in peace if he magically disappeared.

No, this was the only way she could go on living, even with a broken heart.

He didn’t fight. He didn’t really hear much of what they spit at him. But he could hear his mother wailing at him, to save himself, to do whatever he must do.

He’d resigned himself to an early death.

Tom, the town representative, started spewing some righteous words at him. New Religion words that didn’t quite make sense to him, but that’s to be expected. He is, himself, a creature of the old religion, if prophecy is to be trusted.

“Do you have anything to say for yourself, serpent?”

Merlin opened his mouth to tell his mother that he loved her, but he stopped short.

In the distance, he could hear a sound.

The beating of hooves on hard, cold dirt.

Visitors were approaching.

It must be fate, he thinks.

As the horses drew closer, the villagers slowly turned their attentions away from him.

Merlin simply hung his head, letting the Earth he loved so dearly decide which way his life would swing.

“What is the meaning of this?”

A calm, steady voice came from behind him. Deep and concerned. Merlin wished he could see the man.

“My lord,” Tom bowed, as well as he could, which was strange.

Upon realization, Merlin’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head, were these visitors noble? They never had nobility stay long enough to make comments on anything, only ever just passing through.

“I asked you a question.” The voice said again, with all the authority of someone who’s used to using it.

“This man is a sorcerer, sire. We were just-“

“What has he done?”

“Sire?”

“What has this man done to call for these extreme measures?” When no one answered him immediately, he rephrased.

“Surely there must’ve been a crime committed?” As if it’s a question.

Merlin’s mother pulled herself out of shock and brought herself forth.

“He did nothing, sire.” She spoke firm and unmoving. She must’ve seen hope in this man that Merlin had yet to lay eyes on. “He’s only ever used it for healing wounds and helping our gardens in the winter. Please have mercy on him, my lord. He is my only son.” Tears started falling as her voice broke. She finally met Merlin’s eyes again and he smiled at her, weakly.

“So this man-“

“Sorcerer.” Corrected Tom. What a dick.

“This man, did nothing but heal you and help you survive and this is how you repay him?”

Again no answer.

The man seemed to gesture at Tom, walking towards the town elder, and bringing him finally into Merlin’s line of sight.

The doomed boy nearly gasped.

Silver and red bled together in the sun, armor and finery melded like roses in white sand.

The man-the lord…the knight? He had golden blonde hair, that shone like it’s own light.

Blue eyes made even more obvious and striking surrounded by unblemished, sun-kissed skin.

“You seem to be leading the horde. Tell me why?” No, answer. “Cut him down.” A command. The stranger’s face was a hard, blank line.

Funny how, even then, he didn’t feel like a stranger. But Merlin was in no state to remember it.

“My lord, I do not think that would be wise. Your father was the one to wage war on magic-“

“I am not my father. Cut him down.”

Merlin swallowed. Uther Pendragon was the only person in his mind that waged the war on magic, that began the purge. Which means this man could only be his son, Prince Arthur.

What a prince he was.

Well, King, now.

No wonder every person in the vicinity practically dropped to their knees upon his arrival. They’d all heard stories of ‘The Just King’ that now reigned over Camelot. Giving whatever he could to his citizens that needed it most, never turning anyone away who seeks shelter. Merlin had heard the same as everyone else. Seeing the King in person now, he was in awe.

“I will not endanger the lives of all who live here.” Tom turns back to Merlin with the lit torch.

Merlin held his breath, but the second Tom turned away from him, the King pulled his sword. It made the loveliest sound as it left the sheath.

The sound of salvation.

Tom had the tip of a majestic blade directed right at his throat, as the King spoke again.

“I said, cut him down.”

The look on the King’s face was one that could kill.

Merlin wondered momentarily why he cared so much.

Finally someone from the crowd stepped forward with a knife and began to cut away Merlin’s ties.

Hunith leapt forward and engulfed her son in a hug, while also somewhat holding his body upright.

He did not want to let go, considering he thought he would never get to hug his mother again. But the entire village was watching them.

As was-

“What is your name?”

It was phrased as a question but spoken like a command. Merlin knew it was directed at him without opening his eyes.

He did, reluctantly, release his mother and turn to the golden King, facing deep blue eyes head on. Never cowering.

“Merlin.”

The King must’ve seen something in him. Something every other person was blind to or chose to ignore, simply because he was a peasant. He took a step closer and Merlin could hear the tiny tink of metal pieces on his shining armor, as he did so.

“Well, Merlin.” He said, as if trying it out for himself. “Seeing as I’ve just given you your life, I’d like to ask a favor.”

Merlin’s curiosity was peaked, to say the least. King’s didn’t ask favors, they took whatever they wanted.

King Arthur did not wait for a reply to continue.

“I’m in need of assistance. And I could use someone with a gift like yours, specifically.”

Merlin narrowed his eyes in minuscule doubt. Doubt of intentions, doubt of his safety.

The King somehow knowing his exact thoughts said

“Of course you would be permitted to come back when you are needed. And when I have accomplished my goal, if you wish, you can leave. I will not keep anyone against their will. I am simply offering.” A small smile played on his mouth. Flush pink lips. He also held up his hands as if to say ‘I will not harm you’.

Merlin’s gut told him to follow this man.

Terrifyingly, his intuition told him to follow this man, practically a stranger, anywhere. Everywhere.

Merlin felt a pull he’s never felt before. In the moment, he assumed it was immense gratitude for saving his life.

Merlin turned to meet his mothers eyes, he already knew what she was going to tell him.

“I think it will be good for you. To get out for a while.” She smiles softly.

“Will you be alright?” He whispered, glancing at the crowd still gathered around an unlit pyre.

“I’ll be fine.” She grabbed him in a bear hug, like she always did. “And if they boot me out, I’ll come find you.”

Merlin sighed into her shoulder.

“Alright.”

When Merlin turned back, the King had turned his eyes to the ground, giving mother and son a moment of privacy.

Merlin was starting to warm to him already.

“Can I pack first?”

King Arthur met his gaze then, doing that half smile thing, again.

“I suppose.” He nodded. “But don’t dawdle we need to move if we want to make it back before sundown.”

“Yes, sire.” The title which usually held reverence and respect, was laced with sarcasm. He didn’t seem to think twice, as he strode away towards their hut to gather his things.

If Merlin had looked back, he would’ve found a fully beaming King looking after him and about six knights with faces of complete shock.

And perhaps, one knowing mother.

[bee-wg]

PROLOGUE:

Our family isn’t too big. Ever since my grandparents moved to their cottage by the lake, It's just been the three of us. I don't even bring my teammates or friends home. And all the peacefulness is about to change. 

“Ahh Shit- Sorry!” the fumbling buffoon said. 

“Language, sweetheart. David! Could you help him pick it up? I'm tidying up the kitchen,” My mom replied. 

“Coming!” My dad sprints down the stairs. 

“Oh, Pumpkin, you're all grown up! Are you prepared for the semester?” Dad gestured to the culinary tools scattered across the floor. 

“Yes, of course. Sorry about the mess,” he replied. The “Pumpkin” in question is my cousin, Theo. He's about to attend a college in the city to study culinary arts… or something. And, of course, he’s sharing the room with me. Not for long, though. I have a few buddies who have invited me to share a room with them. They reek, but it's a necessary evil. 

“Jay,” my dad asked, nudging me, “Remember when you guys used to play house together every summer?” 

“Yes, then he bit me and we never talked again,” I deadpanned. 

“Oh come on, he was just a kid,” Dad retorted. 

No, he wasn't. He was a little demon that stole my pretend credit card. My hand still itches thinking about that vicious attack. 

I put down Theo’s luggage and bit back the argument. “I'll go back to the car to see what’s left.” 

“Alright bud, thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He could probably thank me by asking what happened at football camp, but what do I know? It's not like we haven't talked about football the entire summer. We could be doing that right now, on the deck with some ice-cold beer. But the twinky little “Pumpkin” needs help, and I have the muscle for it. 

God, I wish the summer was over already.

***

“Hahahaha Exactly! I have never seen Chloé like that before.” Dad laughed.

“Right? Who knew mom had sass in her.”

Mom's competitiveness was kicked off by Theo's presence. The kitchen has basically been a war zone for the past two weeks.

Looking down at my watch, the light flashes on.

6 kilometres down, 5 more to go.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a good morning run with Dad like this one. The ocean breeze flowing past my hair and the faint rays of sunrise brought back some old memories. 

Regulating my breathing, we slowed down for a second.

“Damn, son - your stamina has gotten so much better this past year.”

“The football camp really made you put up 20 pounds of pure muscles too, I’m glad I recommended you there.” Dad beamed proudly at me.

“You’re not too bad yourself, for an aging old man.”

I still get the same rush every time he compliments me. It’s like a reassurance that I’m doing something right.

“Hahahaha, you won’t be saying that when you’re one foot in your 40s; it’s basically death by fossilization.”

Dad has always been modest with his body, but everyone who knows him either admires his body, wants him, or is jealous of him and I am the same. Ever since high school I’ve been inspired to be like him. Even with the 15 pounds of muscle I have over him, I’m still lacking in so many ways. He just has the confidence to own it.

“Want some water?”

“Oh, right, of course. Thanks.” I took over the ice-cold bottle.

“About that training camp, I should request the school board to have the team register next summer for the training course. High school kids these days don't care about sports as much no more.” Dad said

“Speaking of which, remember your friend Lancaster who got held back for two years?”

“Yeah, Avery. He used to scold me when I didn’t take the nutrition classes with him. Haven’t hung with him in a while though.”

“Well, he probably won’t scold anymore. The kid got too cocky after getting a full sports scholarship and gained 70 pounds of fat in the summer. The university probably revoked the funds. Hope he didn't take it too hard.”

“Shit, that’s awful. I didn’t expect it to be him out of anyone. He was a damn good receiver.”

We resumed the pace, avoiding some rogue cyclists on the way.

Crazy to think the weight could creep up on Avery Lancaster of all people. I should watch out for myself too. I have good genes from dad so it probably will never happen, but the new influx of delicious food from Theo and my mom’s little competition definitely doesn’t help. At least it keeps the brat out of my room.

“Dad, I think I’m not going to move in with Brad and the guys.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?” 

“Well first of all, as much as I love them, the guys stinks. Second of all, Theo is not as much of a blood-sucking gremlin as he was before. And I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you guys.”

“Plus, How can I leave when the thing with mom just got interesting.”

“Staying for the family drama, huh?” He chuckled.

“We’re happy to have you for as long as you want, Jay. Truth be told, your mom has been crying about it for weeks. We’re both not ready to say goodbye too.”

“Tell you what, Chloe and Theo probably have some fancy lasagnas waiting for us back home; let's cut through the forest and head back early to celebrate.” He said, practically drooling.

“Lasagnas for breakfast?”

“Wait, You just want the Lasagnas. Don’t you?”

“Hahaha, Maybe.”

“Well, don’t get too drawn in, or you’ll end up as Hansel in the candy house.” 

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

That would be funny to imagine though, cause Dad is anything but a glutton.

Chapter 1 ->

[chloe-skywalker]

Nothing Can Happen - Jacaerys Velaryon/Targaryen

Jacaerys x Fem!Stark!Reader

Warnings: GOT

Word count: 988

Summary: Jace fall’s in love with Cregon Stark’s twin sister.

Authors Note: Hope you enjoy ! I wrote this before season 2 even had a release date. Reader is supposed to be Cregon Stark's twin sister.

Masterlist

House Of The Dragon Masterlist

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

“Welcome to Winterfell Jacaerys Targaryen.” Y/n greeted as she watched the prince land his dragon and dismount before he approached her.

“Wish it was under different circumstances.” Jacaerys said as he approached who he could only believe was Y/n Stark. Rumors didn’t do her beauty justice he thought.

“Don’t we all?” She agreed but Y/n sadly believed the seven kingdoms may never be at peace. “We know why you are here.”

“My Mother-” he started but Y/n held her hand up to stop his prepared speech.

“Is the rightful heir to the Iron Throne. We stand behind your mother. We will fight with your family.” Y/n smiled having already known what kind of speech he was going to give and just save him the time.

“Thank you. It’s appreciated.” Jace felt relieved that he wouldn’t have to convince them or make any deals. If only it was that easy every time.

“Our father swore to Rhaenyra. We will honor that. Honor means something to us here. And she was named heir. Viserys never changed his mind or made a formal change. We won’t stand with the greens.” Y/n stated to him confidently. 

“Again. Appreciated.” he nodded at her.

Jace kept glancing at the direwolf at her side and it made her let out an amused laugh as she noticed. “You can pet her. She won’t hurt you.”

“I-I’m good.” He answered nervously.

“You can ride a dragon but not pet a wolf?” Y/n teased him amused at his reactions.

“I grew up with dragons.” Jace points out.

“I grew up with wolves. But I’d go up and touch your dragon.” Y/n shrugged teasing him more. She had decided it was fun to poke at him, in a friendly respectful way of course.

“Then you are braver than me.” Jace state’s smiling at her. He believed her and he could see in her eyes that she was confident when it came to what she was saying. Jacaerys had also realized in these few short minutes he enjoyed seeing her smile.

“Would you like a tour of Winterfell? My brother would’ve been here but he’s stuck doing some preparation.” Y/n offered with a more relaxed tone with the prince.

“I would love to see Winterfell.” Jace smiled, enjoying how she treated him as if war wasn’t looming.

^     ^     ^

“I’ve noticed you getting all friendly with the Targaryen Boy.” Cregon say’s breaking the silence between him and his sister as they took their direwolves to the creek nearby.

“Just being friendly with an alley.” Y/n tells him not even looking up from the creek as she answered her brother. She didn’t want to see the look she knew would be on his face.

“You like him.” Cregon stated his thoughts on their closeness, after all he knew his sister better than anyone else.

“Cre-”

“It’s fine with me. I like him, he’s a good man.” he interrupted her.

“Nothing will ever happen.” She shook her head glancing at him. She expected a different reaction from him but she shouldn't be surprised he was always supportive of her and wanted her to be happy in life.

“Why won’t you let yourself be happy?” It broke his heart to watch his sister do this to herself. 

“He’s betrothed.” Y/n turned to look at him & before she could get any more emotional she looked away and shook her head. “Nothing will ever happen.” 

“Fuck.” Cregon sighed, something always stood in Y/n’s way and it really angered him sometimes.

“It can’t go anywhere but friendship.” Y/n stated effectively ending the conversation. Turning back to look at her reflection in the creek's water. She did not want to let this affect her, it was never a possibility to begin with so why did she let herself get so attached to begin with.

^     ^     ^

“It has been a pleasure staying here. Thank you for your hospitality.” Jacaerys thanked as he got ready to leave back to Dragonstone.

“It was our pleasure. We’ll be ready when the time comes.” Cregon held his arm out.

“The crown appreciates your loyalty.” Jace shook forearms with Cregon sending their deal. Their loyalty.

“Always.” Cregon smiled before walking far enough away to give the prince and his sister some privacy.

“I’ll miss you.” Jacaerys broke the silence between them first.

“I’ll miss you too, you’ve become a great friend. Prince Jacaerys.” Y/n gives him her best smile she could given the circumstances.

“Y/n-” He tries to speak out, not liking the fact that she called him only a friend.

“Jace. This, us. It can’t go anywhere. You're betrothed, and that’s all there is to it.” Y/n tell’s him what they both know to be true. Even if they wished differently. But they couldn’t stand in the way of their duties.

“I will talk to my mother. I promise.” Jacaerys wanted to keep what they had going, he didn’t mean to fall in love with her on his visit but he did. He admired that she was trying to keep thing’s respectable. Let him go even if it hurts her.

“Don’t promise that. Don’t give out false hope.” Y/n shook her head with tears filling her eyes, but she would not let them fall. At least not till she was alone.

“I promise. I really do.” he did not want her to give up on them, on what they felt growing between the two of them. But even he knew there was a slim chance.

“It was nice meeting you Prince Jacaerys.” Y/n gave the best smile she could muster at him. It was obvious she was trying to distance herself emotionally.

It was clear to Jace that she wouldn’t change her mind without proof they could be together. Jacaerys was determined to talk to his mother about this once he got back. He had to try.

Taglist:

@padawancat97 @maryvibess @misspendragonsworld @gruffle1

@starkleila

[uriekukistan]

i wanna talk about this thing gege said

i’ve seen a lot of people saying that this is a bad way to write a story, and i couldnt disagree more. from a writer’s perspective, there is no reason to kill off a character if it’s not going to have impact.

in any case, i think this reaction points out two things i’ve noticed about the jjk fandom.

i. jjk fans prioritize enjoyment of characters over the plot

which is fine, i guess. i’m not gonna begrudge any readers the space to enjoy their fav characters. however, what i disagree with is the constant trashing of gege and jjk as a story because the narrative doesnt treat the characters as you want it to.

i mostly talk about these things from the perspective of someone who has been writing for a while, so i will take a second to acknowledge from the reader perspective. it’s easy to get attached to characters and see them as real people in your life.

but they arent real people. they only exist for the author’s intentions. every time i see someone complain that “x character only died because plot” i just think “yes?” characters exist for the plot. they exist to serve the narrative. they live and die for the plot, and that isn’t a bad thing. this is a story. that is how stories work.

with characters like gojo or choso, it’s easy to look back and see their character arcs and how their ends fit their purpose in the story, but i think people get so caught up in wanting to fuck the character, or fanon, that they forget their original purpose is to do what gege wants them to do.

this is a war against the most powerful, most evil sorcerer in history. of course characters are going to die, and of course it’s going to be characters we love. it’s honestly unrealistic to expect anything else.

and i think it’s really disrespectful to say so many rude things to gege because he is thinking about the story he wants to tell, and not the story that best suits your favorite character.

ii. few people want to feel anything from what they’re reading anymore

which again, is totally fine, but maybe read something else?

tragic stories have existed and enjoyed immense popularity for millennia. and theres nothing wrong with that. there’s nothing wrong with authors intentionally stirring up their readers’ emotions.

i wanna bring attention to the origins of the words “tragedy” and “catharsis”

“tragedy” is a genre that stems from greek drama based on human suffering and the terrible or sorrowful events that befall the main character. the intention of of tragedy is to invoke “catharsis”

“catharsis” is commonly used to refer to the purification of thoughts and emotions by way of expressing them. in terms of tragedy, this refers to arousing a negative emotion with the intention of expelling it so the audience can walk away feeling relieved.

for all intents and purposes, jjk is a tragedy. it’s meant to make you feel sad. that’s gege’s intention. yet every time people feel upset by a specific event, they call “bad writing.” if anything, according to what jjk is, it’s good writing if you feel sad.

i have seen some people say that jjk wasn’t set up this way, and i disagree so strongly that it’s hard to comprehend.

jjk0 ends with gojo having to kill his best friend, his one and only. tragedy. yuuta’s story is tragic too, having cursed rika and accidentally isolated himself just because he didn’t want her to die.

jjk starts with yuuji faced with execution just because because he wanted to honor his grandfather’s dying wishes. within a handful of chapters, there’s yuuji’s “death” and junpei, and there’s a clear set up of tragedy and repeated loss, despite characters giving their best effort.

i could get into how this relates to my interpretation of the themes of jjk, and sharing burden/responsibility to be stronger together, but that’s another point.

tldr; the point of this post is to say that gege killing characters and making readers feel sad is not bad writing or a bad narrative choice. it’s true to his intentions and the essence of jjk. if you don’t like that, then don’t read. but there’s no reason to disrespect gege and his hard work just because it’s not your cup of tea

[knight-of-flowerss]

I Will Wait.

Part one.

|__> part two will have smut I think :p also if u wanna be added to the house of the dragon tag list pls comment on here and I’ll add u!!

Benjicot ‘Davos’ Blackwood x Bracken!Reader.

Fluff + a bit of angst

Song inspo: I will wait by Mumford & Sons

Masterlist

Being a Bracken was hard. Well, being a Bracken girl was hard. Your brother, Aeron, was a pompous arsehole. Always acting like he was this big, tough knight, when in reality, he was a little boy who was playing as a pretend knight.

Your uncle, Humfrey, also known as Lord Bracken, was also a pompous arsehole, but he knew how to toy with people. He wasn’t a pretender, he would make promises and keep them. Like the promise that he would get one of his guards to whoop you as a child if you didn’t stop misbehaving, and as all children are, you continued misbehaving, and as you can expect, your uncle stuck to his words, even had the nerve to laugh at you when you tried to sit down on your sore bottom the next morning.

There are many things wrong with House Bracken. But the worst and most annoying of all was the ongoing rivalry between House Bracken and House Blackwood.

Apparently, to the Blackwood’s, years and years ago, the Bracken’s poisoned their dear Weirwood tree. It could be the truth or it could be another of the miscellaneous lies that both houses seemed to spew about each other to back up their rivalry. But in reality, I don’t think either side really knows why they hate eachother.

But what you did know is that you love a Blackwood.

And that was wrong.

Benjicot Blackwood was a sweet boy. Shy and caring. He was everything you wanted in a man. And he didn’t care that you were a Bracken.

Even when you were little, Benji always intrigued you. He was an honourable boy, an honourable man. He would never include a girl in a family feud that all stemmed from jealous men.

“Benji.. the war is coming, isn’t it?..” You whispered to him. You were both deep in the forest, Benji sitting up against a large tree, and you lying in his lap, your head resting on his chest as you get your large dress comfortable on the ground. Playing with his shirt, you look up at him, seeing him staring infront.

“Yes my love. I’m sorry but I must fight, it’s what I was born for. If I cannot protect my Queen then what type of Lord am I?” Benji breathed out. You sit up slightly, placing your left hand on his leg and your right on your chest, your faces inches apart.

“And what about me Benji? If you cannot come back alive then where does that leave me? Married off like a brood mare to the highest bidder? Dead at the hands of the other Blackwood’s? And what if Aegon wins? You could get executed for going against the crown-“

“And you can’t? Rhaenyra will win. And when she does she just might have mercy on the disloyal houses like House Bracken. Or she might kill you. But I know my Queen. The backers of the usurper cunt call her King Maegor with teats. She mourns her children! Her legacy! But even after all that she would spare the lives of those serving the pretender, because she is a good Queen.”

Tears brim your eyes as you stare at him. Wishing this could all be different. “Benji.. I don’t care who wins and who loses, I just want you. I want us to marry and grow old and have children, I want to not be afraid to love you Benji..”

Leaning your head against his, you squeeze your eyes closed and pressed your lips together tightly, trying not to spill tears or a pathetic whimper.

“I’m sorry my love. I promise you I’ll be back. And when I do, I promise I’ll marry you under the Weirwood tree, under the Old Gods and the New. I’ll love you unconditionally, no matter what any Bracken or Blackwood say. You are mine and I am yours. The day we get back, I either ask for your hand or take you as mine if anyone objects.”

You open your eyes and look at him, lips parting slightly. “Really?..” He adorns his sweet little smile finally and let’s out a small, breathy laugh. “Of course my love, you mean the world to me and I’d rather die than let you be used as a political piece for those piece of shit Brackens. Always have been a piece of shit, do you know what your uncle did to my father when they were-“

You grabbed his face, slamming your lips onto his, it was probably the last time that you could and you were going to make the most of it.

It had been two years. Two full Fucking years. It was over, finally. The usurper, Aegon, had been defeated.

From the start of the war ‘til now, you had matured a lot. All Noble women and children of the Riverland houses had lived in Riverrun since the war started, protecting the houses heirs and family.

Two years ago you were naïve, wide-eyed, and dependent on your surroundings to comfort you. Innocence was your very essence.

Now, post-war, you had come to terms with the world, it couldn’t change, people will continue to kill each other for power. But also, you were ‘ready for children’ according to Lady Tully. She claims your hips have widened and your breasts have grown. She is determined to find you a living husband to carry on your Bracken line but in reality, you wanted to taint that line, with Blackwood blood.

Soldiers were returning home.

Finally, your family was returning home.

Thousands of men from each houses spewing through each and every crevice, determined to get home.

Tully men made their way towards the Riverrun to celebrate their victory with their wives and children, with those who fought bravely along side with each other.

Darkmont men marched their way home, proud banner men who were eager to pray to the Seven, giving thanks for the victory that the Warrior gifted them, grateful that the Warrior answered their prayers of protection, valour and skill in battle.

The Piper men stalked towards the Pinkmaiden Castle near the Golden Tooth and the border with the Westerlands. Their loyalty towards the Tully’s unwavering in and out of battle. They make their way home while their faces reflect their words, ‘Brave and Beautiful’.

Other houses marched home, House Endymion, House Deddings, House Teague and others. They were all either matching home or to Riverrun to celebrate. You would try and pay more attention, but you’re too busy to acknowledge each and every men as you’re looking out for your man.

Your silly, crazed, depraved man that, hopefully, still has that shy, tender-hearted, gentle and loving boy inside.

You were just about to turn away, to pack up and return home to see what was left of your family, when you see it.

Three sets of flags, each having a trail of burned, bloodied and beaten soldiers following.

In the middle there rode a man holding the Clement House coat of arms on a large banner, a white flag with for blue, jagged line going down vertically.

They were loyal men of the Tully’s, Defenders of the Riverlands but there is only so much those soldiers can do before they stick their swords through their chest due to the constant bickering of the houses on either side of them.

On the left of House Clement, there was your family. House Bracken. Holding their golden banner with the Carmine coloured Stallion plastered in the middle up high as if they weren’t serving the pretender, the usurper, the loser. They had been defeated, yes. But their life long rivalry with the house over the field seemed to make them forget that.

You finally spotted your brother, Aeron. He looked utterly defeated. But that was in his eyes, his body and mouth concealed his battered condition with a confident facade.

Even from so far away you could tell they were bickering. They always were.

Finally your gaze drifts towards the right of House Clement, to your enemies.

A large, grey Stallion, big hooves, a dark matted mane with bit splotches of white and grey littering it the further you get towards its back legs moved in sync with the others at the front of the House Blackwood line. It was the most beautiful horse you had ever seen, trotting at a slow pace and showing off its regal strut. For being such a big and burley horse, it was quite elegant.

But, as beautiful as the horse was, a god sat atop it. The Maiden herself reincarnated as a Blackwood boy, Man.

Benjicot Blackwood had returned, more a man than those marching. He held his family’s banner up high, displaying their victory.

You smiled and stepped away from the window, running through the halls of the Riverrun. You stood at the front of the gates, greeting men as they trotted in.

All the other houses entered or passed and then finally House Clement entered, the banner men leading the Fyrd.

Next came your house, House Bracken. Your cousins and siblings came boasting in. Upon an auburn horse, your brother chucked the banner to the on foot soldiers and got off his horse.

“Sister!” Aeron shouted as he rushed towards you, “The fucking bitch Queen won, the little fuckers burnt half our house, I’ll fucking kill them.”

“Maybe it is for the best Aeron, we should at least be grateful she hasn’t burnt us to a crisp. And.. I’m glad to have you back brother.” You smiled and pressed a palm to his cheek. He sighs and wraps his arms around you tightly, “I’ve missed you sister, truly. It was horrifying out there, you ever seen a dragon rip a man to shreds? Well, hopefully not. Has everything been alright while we’ve been gone?”

“Of course it has brother, I’m a Bracken after all. A Bracken woman. I know how to handle myself. Now, go inside and show everyone how a Bracken stands tall, even after a loss.”

He smiled at me, tightly nodding. He let of me and started walking inside, catching up with our cousins on the steps.

Finally, finally the Blackwoods came marching. But that large stallion wasn’t matching at the start, Benjicot Blackwood, your Benji was no where to be found in fact.

Panic set in through you. Where had he gone? Had he fled? Had your family hurt him? Your questions were left un-answered as Lady Tully came out.

“Sweetheart, come inside, celebrate.” She spoke to you with great kindness, her hands gripping the sides of your arms and gently pulling you away into the Riverrun.

While the Lady Tully was coercing you inside, Benji was arguing with your uncle, Lord Bracken.

“Your false, usurper, cunt of a ‘king’ has been defeated Lord Bracken, I see no reason why you still think you can act like you have the upper hand.” Benjicot had started to lose his temper.

He had came to Lord Bracken to ask for your hand in marriage, to throw away their rivalries and start a new beginning of joint houses. Of course this was not Benjicot Blackwood speaking, Benjicot Blackwood would rather die than admit this. No, this was Benji speaking. This was the boy who loved a woman speaking.

But as time passed, his new nickname gifted to him in the war came shining through, Bloody Ben came out. He started losing his temper, lashing out at your depraved uncle, calling out his foolishness.

In reality, Benjicot was being just as foolish, lashing out at a Bracken while their large hoard pricks surround him, fucking stupid. But, he had brought Oscar and Kermit Tully alongside him, two long friends of his. So if shit went down, at least they’d die together.

As the bickering continued, both Bracken and Blackwood became increasingly more agitated and aggressive, the two Tully boys standing there like they’re ready to kill them selves and not the men coated in yellow.

“Young Lord Blackwood, do you really think I’d let your tiny Blackwood cock defile my innocent neice?”

Benji huffs, “Lord Bracken, your neice will have the taste of a real man, not a Bracken boy. The gods know we are destined-“ , “You worship the old gods! You will not say the fake gods destine you and her.”

Kermit moves forward, leaning to whisper into Benjicot’s ear, “Ben, maybe we should leave”, Benjicot puts a hand on his chest and softly nudges him away.

“Lord Bracken, rest assured, the old gods and the new know our binding of houses will avoid years of bloodshed in the future-“

Lord Bracken interrupts him, “Why would you want out houses binded? The Blackwood’s hate the Brackens and vice versa, it’s been like that for years, why would you of all people want that? You wish to take a jab at House Bracken while we are at our weakest? Belittle us?-“

“I love her.” Exclaimed Benji, Kermit looked to Oscar and Oscar rolled his eyes, just wanting to sit and feast, tired from the war.

“You know nothing of love, boy.”

Tags: @thethreeeyed-raven @lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom @tiredsleepyhead @onlyrealjoy

[the-irreverend]

The Inferno Theory: The Chara Theory to End All Chara Theories

Here we are! Nine years of Undertale. And seeing how Chara is heavily associated with the number 9 (AND THAT TOBY FOX FINALLY TALKED ABOUT THEM), I can't think of a better way to celebrate the occasion than by dedicating this 5000-word-long theory about them? Y'all remember when people used to make long-ass theories about Chara? Yeah, they're coming back with a vengeance! To say I have a colossal hyperfixation is a massive understatement. No character in all of fiction has had a bigger impact on my life than this little rose-cheeked, cocoa-addicted freak. I’ve been a Chara fan for as long as I’ve been an Undertale fan, and you can bet that my understanding of them has changed a lot since. And now I have the pleasure of sharing said understandings with y’all!

Once upon a time, there was an aroace autistic who, like most of y’all, had a very unhealthy obsession with Undertale. And unlike most of you, he thought the Genocide Route was really fun. Most fans talk about how unhappy they felt killing everyone, but for me, I felt like a polar bear at a baby harp seal convention. I got a disturbing level of happiness out of turning everyone to dust. Hell, the only unhappiness I felt was when I couldn’t turn Monster Kid to dust.

Oh well, at least I got a good consolation prize!

I was one sadistic son of a gun, and so I was even more delighted to find out I had a secret admirer/partner-in-crime and that they joined in on the fun because I was such a goshdarn inspiration to them. Not wishing to disappoint my self-appointed partner, I erased the world without a second thought, eagerly awaiting what we might get to do together.

So you can guess I was pretty taken aback when, instead of a warm welcome, they started lecturing me about how I couldn’t accept the world’s destruction and that I was the one fully responsible for it (even though they were eager to take credit for it earlier). I didn’t think much of it at first. Initially, I just thought that they were just irritated that I was undoing what we had worked so hard to accomplish.

But as this game taught me time after time, you should never trust your first impressions. Those first impressions would crumble to dust when they said this.

To say I was completely baffled is an understatement. Why the hell would this prepubescent genocidal maniac be so obsessed over whether or not I think I’m above consequences? So obsessed to the point they would tell me to go to hell if I told them no? It was at that moment I realized there was something more to this character than meets the eye. But for a long time, I couldn’t seem to figure out what that something was. And it didn’t seem like anyone could figure that out either.

I’m very much a veteran of the fan wars that have emerged surrounding Chara. In fact, one might even say I am a deserter of sorts, as I am a former member of the Chara Defence Squad, Offense Squad, and Neutralist Squad. But I’m not gonna be a stuck-up and say everyone’s a canon-ignoring idiot except for me and that I’m the only one who knows what Toby Fox intended Chara to be. Even though I ended up with a very different take than yours (and will certainly argue why it’s the best), I owe you all your discussions a huge debt, and I wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t gotten invested in your interpretations, to begin with. Not to mention that, contrary to what some may argue, you’ve made some valid points to complement them.

And while the debate that resulted from Chara’s ambiguous morality has led to a lot of controversy and even toxicity, it has also been a source of some FANTASTIC CONTENT. Like seriously, would we have gotten those badass renditions of Stronger Than You if no one thought Chara was an awful person? Would we have gotten Man on the Internet’s beautiful rendition of Star if no one thought Chara was a good person (turned awful)?

It would be utter hypocrisy for me to ask of you to approach me and my arguments (or anyone who accepts them) with understanding and good faith only to then not do the same to anyone who doesn’t agree with me. In this theory, I will definitely argue why some points made about Chara are flawed; points that you might hold yourself. But that doesn’t automatically mean that you (or your takes) are intellectually or morally inferior to mine. And besides, I’m not Toby Fox.

So with that said, why did I eventually came to disagree with pretty much everyone about Chara? Because, one way or another, I couldn’t find a take that clicked with me personally as I felt there were various inconsistencies and issues holding them back. I looked at YouTube videos, subreddits, Tumblr essays, Twitter threads, and even forums on the Steam Community. But I couldn’t really find what I thought were satisfactory answers to the questions I had about Chara’s motivations, role in the game, and relationship with the player.

And then, one day, I found those answers. It all happened when I asked myself: “What if Chara didn’t turn against me… because they were always against me from the start?!”

I don’t mean that Chara only saw you as a means to an end. I mean that YOU were the end. What if Chara didn’t use you so they could screw over the monsters but they used the monsters so they could screw over YOU.

You probably think I’m insane, don’t you? And you’re right! I AM INSANE! AND SO IS THIS WHOLE DAMN THEORY!!! But somehow, someway, it just works!! And I’ll show you why and how!!!

What you are about to read is the culmination of six years of reading and critiquing Chara takes and theories of every kind and quality, whether it be Judgement Boy’s Who is the Real Villain of Undertale to Wandydoodles’ Oblivion Theory. Six years of examining the arguments and counterarguments of Chara defenders, offenders, and neutralists alike. Six years of looking in every corner of the UTDR fandom. From the tranquil lands of Quora. To the dark recesses of Reddit. To the intellectual wastelands of Twitter. To the fiery hellsite of Tumblr. So, without further ado, get ready for some of the most pure, unadulterated, high-octane, universe-collapsing neurodivergence you’ve ever seen in your life!!!!!

Part 1: The demonic heritage of the "demon who comes when people call its name".

Have you ever had one of those moments where you’ve asked yourself, “What the actual hell is this guy talking about?” I bet you’re having that moment right now. Everything about their character post-death, including their motives, their methods, and their relationship with you, is perfectly reflected in one of their most famous (or rather infamous) lines:

When most people hear the word demon, the first thing that comes to mind is a being made of pure evil whose only purpose in life is to destroy all things good in the world. Right?

Well, yes, but actually, no. It’s a little more complicated than that. To argue that Chara is a demon because they’re simply “an evil little twerp that enjoys being evil” doesn’t do them or their role in Undertale justice (although that hasn’t stopped people from trying to argue that). To understand why calling themselves a demon is EXTREMELY important, we need to dive into the wonderful (and totally not controversial) world of religious beliefs!

In ancient and modern religions, demons are a little more complex than just ethereal jackasses with a vendetta against virtue and righteousness. Though they vary from faith to faith, most demons have a specific set of qualities and tropes that make them integral to whatever faith they’re in. You also see these demonic qualities in fiction that’s derived or inspired by religions, and since Undertale’s lore and worldbuilding have a heavy emphasis on the spiritual and divine, you can see them in Chara. Since Undertale is a game of “Western” origin, you can definitely see they share qualities that are all too familiar with devils of “Western” religions. In classic devil fashion, they target those with weak integrities or suspect morals; they tempt you with the promise of fulfilling your desires at your and everyone else’s expense; they’re able to control your body as you grow their power through your sins, and hell, they even do the thing where they make a deal for your soul. Also...

But though it's evident that Chara encourages you to do “evil,” THEY THEMSELVES are not responsible for it. Yes, Chara encouraged you to kill, but YOU are the one who acted on those encouragements. In fact, YOU are the one who encouraged THEM to help you out! They walked down the dark path with you, but you didn’t really give them anywhere else they could walk. You had all the power and every chance to turn back and no reason to keep walking. And yet you persisted.

But that does beg the question, why did you walk it at all? What could possibly inspire you to give all of these characters happiness, satisfaction, and peace and then rip it all away? Because you decided that giving everyone the most satisfying ending was not satisfying enough for you. Because there was more that you could experience for yourself, even if it meant making everyone else experience something absolutely horrific. It wasn’t enough for you to fill the glass only halfway. You needed to fill it to the brim. You wanted to reach the absolute. Even if doing the Genocide Run was a bad experience for you, you CANNOT deny it was a fulfilling one. And Chara knows it, too. It ain’t exactly a coincidence that fulfillment and fullness are recurring motifs in Chara’s character.

Like all demons, Chara is able to tempt the wicked and sinful by targeting our greatest weaknesses and deficiencies. It’s no different from how Succubi and Incubi target those who succumb to the sin of lust. That’s why you won’t go after my aroace ass anytime soon. But I digress.

But Chara doesn't just tempt us by exploiting our need to fill the glass to the brim but also because of how they exploit the satisfaction we get from watching it fill up, that is to say, the satisfaction that comes from trying to achieve fulfillment.

We humans are addicted to progression as much as we are to completion, and in an RPG like Undertale, the satisfaction of progression comes in the form of NUMBERS. Not just the numbers that flash on the screen when you battle enemies but also the ones that go up when you finish said enemies off, whether it be your hit points, experience points, and so on. And Undertale isn’t any ordinary RPG; it’s one where its RPG elements are interwoven into the fabric of the game’s universe. Because of that, Chara is able to use these elements in their world to influence those outside of it.

But Chara does not just influence us through the numbers that increase but also the ones that decrease. That’s why the first thing they do when we reach Snowdin is give us a tally. 

It’s not just there to measure progress. It’s also there to incentivize us to keep progressing. It gives us a small dose of satisfaction that’s enough to distract us from the mundanity and misery of the murder run, like a loading bar on a loading screen. And just like with loading screens, the farther it progresses, the harder it gets to turn away. Why would you want all the lives you’ve taken and the stats you’ve gained to amount to nothing? Why would you want to hit reset and go through those brutal fights with Sans and Undyne again? You can’t empty out the glass, not when you’re that much closer to filling it to the brim. Speaking of Sans and Undyne, it’s quite interesting that even though they barely know you, they know exactly why you won’t take your foot off the pedal, so to speak.

But that’s not the only thing driving you, isn’t it? Chara knows that there was something else that was spurning you along. Something more powerful and more dangerous than your addiction to progression and completion: PRIDE. 

Perhaps the real reason you kept giving in to sin until it was far too late was because you didn’t think it would be too late. You didn’t hold back because you thought you would be able to go back. You thought you could just absolve your sins with the press of a button like you did in countless worlds before. You thought you could dive in, touch the bottom, and come back out of the water. But what were you getting into? How deep would you have gone? And would you have gone in if you knew you couldn’t possibly return? You know you wouldn’t. And Chara knows it, too. That brings us back to the dialogue I showed you at the beginning of this theory. The one said changed everything I knew about this character, and I firmly believe that this is the MOST important line of dialogue in the entire franchise.

PART 2: THE PART WHERE I (PRETEND TO) DESTROY 9 YEARS OF ESTABLISHED FANON!

When I say that that little blurb about being above consequences is ABSOLUTELY ESSENTIAL, I do not say that lightly. It isn’t just important to Chara's character, but the game of Undertale as a whole! Anyone who’s serious about Chara’s character should never take this for granted because Chara sure as hell does not.

It’s not just our refusal to accept the world’s destruction that’s a huge-ass deal to Chara; it’s the arrogance and complacency that accompanies it, rooted in the position and privileges we have as the player. It matters to them so much that they’re willing to completely forgo bartering for our soul (which they say they want) if we don’t admit that we have that belief!

And yet, despite Chara taking this subject so seriously, the people who are analyzing their character ironically don’t. Generally speaking, most people simply brush this line off as nothing more than something they do to help them on their quest to achieve their goals. So, with that said, let’s talk about what those supposed goals actually are.

In all my years of reading and assessing countless Chara theories and interpretations, I’ve discovered that everyone actually agrees on what Chara's goals are. They just can’t agree on why they want them. Said goals are A) reach the absolute, B) max out their numbers/power, C) erase the world, and/or D) eradicate all monsters. But what if it’s actually the other way around? What if those things were the means to an end rather than the ends themselves?

What if the true goal of the “demon who comes when people call its name” was just like that of the demons of old: not to be your partner in crime, but to torment and punish you for your crimes? To make you face CONSEQUENCES!

I’m not making this argument simply because it makes Chara look more badass (though I think it totally does, lol). I firmly believe that Undertale’s post-Genocide content is written so that Chara’s character can only make sense if that was Chara’s goal from start to finish. Because if Chara’s endgame was any of those four I mentioned earlier, their character kinda falls apart because they're awfully inconsistent about fulfilling them. And those inconsistencies are evident in the Second Geno Ending.

Discrepancy 1) They say they will “appear time and time again” to help us “eradicate the enemy and become strong,” and yet they call us perverted for eradicating everyone time and time again.

You can argue that they didn’t want us to recreate the world in the first place and just move on to another world, but if so, why let us come back at all? And if it’s to get our soul, why do they keep around this world after we have it? This leads us to...

Discrepancy 2) They tell us to ERASE the world and move on to the next, and yet they allow us to restore it without a hitch after we give them our SOUL, seeing how there’s no black void when we start the game again.

If Chara was powerless to stop us from coming back, this wouldn’t be such a big deal. But they CLEARLY DEMONSTRATE that they’re able to stop the player from restoring the world, as seen in the first post-genocide ending. And yet they don’t use this power after the first time the world is erased (WHICH YOU WOULD THINK THEY WOULD WANT TO USE SINCE THEY WANT TO ERASE THE WORLD AND MOVE ON TO ANOTHER)! Seeing how the world is back again without us doing anything makes the restoration of the world like something that Chara CHOSE ON THEIR OWN VOLITION. And what makes this all the more damning is...

Discrepancy 3) They tell us they’re down bad for increasing our ATK, DEF, EXP, and LV to the max and erasing the world and everyone in it, and yet they TELL US TO DEVIATE FROM THE ONLY ROUTE THAT ACCOMPLISHES THAT (which, as stated before, they call us perverse for doing it again).

So, let me get something straight. You tell us you want to ”eradicate the enemy” and “ erase this pointless world,” and yet not only are you allowing us to undo all of that, you want us to do something INSTEAD OF THAT??? It’s funny how you lecture us about how we cannot accept the world’s destruction BECAUSE, APPARENTLY, YOU WON’T EITHER!!!!! Also, before I forget...

Discrepancy 4)

WHAT KIND OF MISANTHROPE DEDICATES THEIR WHOLE LIFE TO WIPING OUT HUMANITY, GETS GIFT-WRAPPED A CHANCE TO DO THAT, AND THEN JUST PASSES IT UP?!?!?!

On behalf of misanthropes everywhere, I am DEEPLY disappointed in you!

So it doesn’t matter if you believe Chara is always evil, good, or detached from morality entirely. Because Chara has the same goal across all versions, they all succumb to the same inconsistencies!

Funny how most people see them as this embodiment of the addictive nature of levelling up and consuming everything in a piece of media and all that jazz WHEN THEY SEEM TO CASUALLY GIVE UP ON IT!!!!!!

And if you argue they want a Soulless Pacifist Run when they suggest “another path,” then ask yourself, what does that give them that a Genocide Run doesn’t? Keep in mind, aside from a scribbled-out photograph, we don’t see how many monsters or humans they killed besides the main characters or how much power and stats they gained from it. And it’s not like we see them erase the world afterward since only the genocide run has that infamous wall of red 9s. Not to mention, the genocide run is the most secure way of accomplishing their goals since they have the backing of the player. Not only that, but it’s also the safest and most efficient way to erase everyone and increase stats to the fullest, and we all know how Chara feels about efficiency.

So Chara has no reason to pick the Soulless pacifist ending over the Genocide Run if they want to achieve their end of increasing numbers and consuming the world… unless those things were a means to an end rather than ends themselves.

Indeed it is coming together! That’s the other reason their statement, “You think you’re above consequences,” is so damn important! They’re not telling us why we sinned, but it reveals they intend to make us suffer for those sins, and how.

That’s why Chara is seemingly so inconsistent about erasing the world. Because it was never about the world. It was all about YOU.

[SIDE NOTE: I’m sure many of you will point out that if Chara wanted us to get a Soulless ending in this world, then why would they encourage us to “move on to the next?” I don’t think this is too big an issue for two reasons. First, this line is meant to emphasize that, like all demons, Chara is inescapable and that no matter what world you go to (within their own universe), Chara will always follow you now that you’ve unleashed them. Second, because their goal concerns us and not the world they’re a part of, their character avoids the aforementioned inconsistencies that hamper the other Chara theories much more severely, in my opinion.]

Part 3: Contrapasso

Now I’m sure some of y’all might think that Chara doesn’t need to yearn for our torment to achieve the impact of the Soulless ending and that just because Chara is a demon doesn’t automatically mean they need to screw us over. You are right in that not everyone who makes a Faustian Bargain needs to have malicious intentions toward the people they’re taking advantage of (Kuybey from Madoka Magica is a great example of that). But Chara does need it! Not only does it make their character more narratively cohesive, but also makes their character more thematically impactful. And it’s more in tune with their demonic nature for them to want to torment us.

Because demons represent something more terrifying than evil itself. They represent the terrible price of embracing it, a price that all evildoers fear more than anything, and that all demons want seek to inflict upon us. Like most demons, Chara isn’t encouraging us to sin to fill the emptiness in our soul (or even their own). They did it to perpetuate that torturously empty and unfulfilled state for all eternity, a state which even themselves now endure.

Now, you’ve probably noticed that I’ve talked a lot about the themes of fulfillment and emptiness, and it’s for a good reason since those themes are heavily featured in Undertale. I mean, how could it not? Because concepts of demons, hell, and sins (which are explicitly mentioned in the game) are deeply intertwined with the concept of emptiness. The theologian Thomas Aquinas once defined evil as not a presence but as an absence (of that which is good). Darkness is the absence of light; war is the absence of peace; bigotry is the absence of tolerance; pride is the absence of humility, etc. You see this reflected in not just Christian theology but also fiction as a whole, as a lot of villains are motivated by a desire to obtain something that they believe can’t be without. Whether it be wealth, status, recognition, power, the death of an individual, or even just sadistic pleasure.

Since demons are beings that are inseparable from evil itself, the life of a demon is forever cursed by unceasing and unbearable emptiness. Hell, the word damnation originated from the Latin word damnum, which literally means loss! They’re not exactly partying in hell while your immortal soul is being slow-roasted for eternity. They’re burning in that lake of fire and brimstone along with you! They can’t end their damnation, not because they don’t want to but because they simply can’t. They’re fated to be bereft of the satisfaction or fulfillment found in Heaven or Earth, a fate that is worse than death in every sense of the word, especially since they can’t experience death anymore. Because of that, a demon embodies what is perhaps the most terrifying form of evil of all: not one rooted in a desire to rid the emptiness and unfulfillment within themselves, but a desire to inflict them upon others. Because as a wise philosopher once said:

We see this horrific state of mutually assured suffering everywhere across fiction. From goofy, lighthearted tokusatsu's...

...to nightmarish sci-fi dystopias...

...to a little indie game made 9 years ago.

Oh yeah. Don’t think I was gonna talk about emptiness without mentioning everyone’s favourite homicidal fauna-turned-flora, especially not with lines like this.

Take one to know one! And it can’t be a coincidence that the game emphasizes the theme of emptiness when giving the spotlight to the three characters that have committed the most “evil”: Flowey/Asriel, Chara, and YOU.

Quite the unholy trinity going on here, eh? It truly is fascinating how the emptiness led us to work with each other to exterminate all monsters. And it’s also interesting how the unique kind of emptiness we have eventually led us to work against each other. Whether it be Flowey wishing to preserve his sentimentality for his long-gone sibling, us players wanting to maintain our (perverted) sentimentality for the world of Undertale, or Chara weaponizing these sentimentalities to exact their misanthropic hatred.

Remember how I said that Chara was a lousy misanthrope because they keep letting us bring back the humans they wanted annihilated when they were alive? That does make them a lousy misanthrope… unless their misanthropy found a higher priority target: YOU!!!!! Chara’s desire to torment us didn’t come out of thin air. The same hatred that drove them to wipe out the humans of their world years ago is the same hatred that’s driving them to get at the humans of our world, even if it means destroying those who once embraced them. And now, that hatred is more potent and destructive than ever before, so much so that it’s no wonder Toriel was able to feel it when she endured that fatal blow after the Geno Run began.

Do you think witnessing what soullessness did to sweet little Asriel wasn’t already terrifying and tragic enough? Just try to imagine what it could‘ve done to a vengeful, traumatized, chocolate-addicted problem child so consumed by hatred that they poisoned themselves just for a chance to wipe out their own kind. All of that hatred of humanity is still alive and well, and now it has no humanity to hold it back. 

And what could be a more fitting target for a MISANTHROPE that calls themselves a DEMON… than a HUMAN that wants to play GOD?

After all, the only thing demons love more than tormenting mortals is warring with Gods.

Why else do you think that Chara winks right at you if we make Frisk stay with Toriel? Because that’s who the Soulless Ending was meant for. It’s when they’re finally able to unleash all that animosity and hatred that’s been lurking behind that smile ever since we killed everyone in the Ruins. It’s the moment that they’ve been patiently waiting for because they knew that’s when it would hit you the hardest.

And what makes the Soulless Pacifist Ending very special compared to other “bad endings” isn’t simply because they destroy those we pretend to care about (may I remind you that you did do the genocide run, after all). But they destroy something much more valuable to us as the players: OUR OMNIPOTENCE. Chara doesn’t destroy people for the sake of destroying them. But because in doing so they destroy our arrogant belief that nothing could possibly challenge the invisibility and invulnerability we players take for granted.

It's all too human that those with the most power are the least willing to lose it (or even take responsibility for it). And in a world where we should have absolute power, we thought there would be no consequences for abusing it. So what could be a more fitting and frightful punishment than having to actually face them? Missing out on the best ending in a video game is one thing. But to forever lose the power to achieve it ever again?! Now that’s terrifying!

Throughout myth, legend, and religion, sinners are often punished in a way befitting of the sin they’ve committed. In Greek Mythology, Tantalus was damned for trying to feed the Gods the flesh of his murdered son with eternal hunger and thirst despite being within arm’s reach of water and food. In Dante’s Inferno, those who succumb to wrath are forever doomed to fight each other in a river of mud. And since Undertale is no stranger to concepts such as hell, sins, and demons, you can damn well be sure that there’s going to be damnation fitting for the sins that drove you to complete the genocide run.

You completed the Genocide Run because you believed ending their lives would be fulfilling. Now, you can no longer get any fulfillment out of saving their lives.

I mean, where else can you get your precious fulfillment? Those paltry neutral endings? They only offer a fraction of what the pacifist ending offered. And the genocide ending has been drained of its satisfaction like the pacifist! Would you do all that tedious grinding and brutal boss fights just to hear your so-called “partner” lecture you again on perverted sentimentality and say you should choose another path, even though there’s nothing that they could offer? Of course not. In the end, you’re just like poor Tantalus agonizing in the pits of Tartarus, feeling the water vanish from his hands just before it touches his lips.

The ultimate triumph of Chara isn’t making you suffer a total defeat, but perhaps something much worse to you as a gamer: a pyrrhic victory. It’s like having a Twinkie that's been drained of the creamy center. Everything is still there except the thing you treasure most. You’re damned to play a challenge forever deprived of any and all fulfillment you once got from it, a satisfying journey that will always be doomed to reach a dissatisfying destination.

In the end, Chara leaves you with the world exactly as they described it the first time they met you face-to-face: POINTLESS.

You can have the world exactly as it was before (and the people within it). But in the end, Chara will always have the last laugh.

Figuratively and literally.

Welcome to hell!

Part 4: Why Consequences Matter

Woooooo!!! Man, that was quite the read, wasn’t it? And yeah, I wasn't kidding when I said this is going to be autistic as all hell! I don’t doubt you have a lot of thoughts in your mind, and then you’re gonna share them by the time you’re finished reading this post. Some of you might think this is the Chara theory to end Chara theories. Some of you believe that this is the worst thing that has happened to this fandom since Sebastian Wolff. Some of y’all, I’m whitewashing them because I argue they’re driven by a desire to punish the wicked by any means necessary. Some will think I’m demonizing them because I say that they’re, well, a demon. 

[SIDE NOTE: Just so I don’t miscommunicate what I believe about Chara’s morality, here are some key points to take away from this theory. A) Chara sought to make you pay for the evil you committed. In fact, the idea that the Soulless Ending is Chara punishing our sins has been around for a while, especially by those who think Chara was “corrupted. B) However, in this theory, Chara's actions are all done with the intent of accomplishing that goal. This means that Chara was aware of what they were doing, they wanted to do it, and that THEY KNEW IT WAS EVIL. C) But you still have to remember that Chara is also A LITERAL CHILD. And D) They’re a child who endured a great deal of hardship (and possibly trauma), which made them so embittered and vengeful. Also, E) Remember that they’re also soulless, just like Asriel when he was Flowey.]

But I think most of you were gonna look at this interpretation of Chara and feel the same thing that I have about most of yours: a take that’s not without issues, but not without a fair bit of interesting points.

But regardless of what you think of this theory overall, there’s one thing I won’t leave up for debate: I deeply treasure Chara’s character. Not just because I think they’re fun, cool, or interesting but also because I firmly believe they’re invaluable Undertale. And yet, at the same time, I think they’re severely undervalued by the fandom. And who can blame them?

The characters of Undertale speak very little of Chara, and Chara speaks for themselves even less. But just like Johan Liebert from the anime Monster, even though they’re not seen too often, they still manage to exert a massive presence and impact within Undertale’s narrative. And that presence is made all the more impactful because they perfectly represent the themes of the narrative: and that theme is CONSEQUENCES, or more accurately, the CONSEQUENCES OF VIOLENCE.

From the violence that drove Chara to climb Mt Ebott to the violence their brother Asriel inflicted in hopes of being with them forever. From something as grand as a war between two civilizations to something as small as dismembering a snowman. Everywhere you look, you will see that violence (and its repercussions) haunts the story and characters of Undertale. But what makes Undertale stand out from other media that tackles this subject is that it’s not just an integral part of its narrative but also its metanarrative. The most ingenious way it does this is by giving meaning to the actions/mechanics that we take for granted, specifically monster encounters.

Our Lord and Saviour Toby Fox said it best:

Because the monsters of Undetale are treated as something more than just enemies to be killed, there are going to be consequences for choosing to kill them away. Some argue that it goes too far in how it admonishes you for killing even a single monster, even to the point of being preachy (I’m looking at you, ScottFalco, but that’s a response for another day).

That argument is deeply flawed because it fails to account for the fact that without these ramifications, the game’s themes would be rendered null and void. The last thing that a game with a narrative centred around the consequences of violence can afford to do is afford you the luxury of avoiding them. And that principle especially applies if you dare to choose nothing BUT violence. //////If you were to bring them all back as if nothing happened, then your decision to commit genocide would be completely meaningless, which would totally disservice Undertale themes regarding violence. There needs to be consequences. LASTING CONSEQUENCES. Undertale can’t drive home its messages and them without lasting consequences. Undertale can’t deliver those consequences without Chara in the driver’s seat. And Chara’s character can only be at their most narratively cohesive and thematically impactful if seeking to make us suffer consequences was their intended destination.

Regardless of whatever detail about Chara you’re discussing or what side of the discussion you’re on, one thing is very clear: they’re absolutely essential to Undertale in the same way that Mephistopheles is essential to Faust, the Cenobites are essential to Hellraiser, and Kuybey is essential to Madoka Magica. And they’re the only ones with the means, motives, and deep-seated misanthropy to hold this whole damn game together.

Sans is right. We deserve to be burning in hell for what we did to those poor monsters. And I can't think of anyone more qualified to have us humans “burning in hell” than a self-proclaimed demon with a seething hatred of humanity.

And how fitting is it that the skeleton who judges our sins is followed by a human child who punishes us for them?

BUT HEY, THAT'S JUST A THEORY!

A CHARA THEORY!

THANKS FOR READING!

[k4marina]

bruce wayne x fem!reader || smau

pt. 2 of this :)

pt. 1

pt. 3

———

brucewayne

liked by yourusername and 21,304,272 others

brucewayne just going to leave this here

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user PLS WHAT IS THIS

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liked by yourusername and brucewayne

yourusername

liked by brucewayne and 20,364,208 others

yourusername ENGAGEMENT PARTYYYY 🥂🍾

tagged: brucewayne, racheldawes, & harveydent

racheldawes had such a blast you and bruce!!

harveydent thank you for gracing our engagement party with your presence 🙇‍♂️

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user look at her dresssss 😍😍😍

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yourusername posted a story 42 minutes ago

user1 replied PLS DONT RELL ME WHAT I THINK THIS MEANS 🙏😭😭

user2 replied girl say sike rn 😨

user3 DID U AND BRUCE BRAKE UP?????

user4 nononononknono u can’t do this. u can’t post smt like this and expect us to be calm U NEED TO EXPLAIN 😭😭

yourusername

liked by racheldawes and 22,293,108 others

yourusername life as of late 🙃

user WTF DOES “🙃” MEAN ???? 😭😭

user guys bruce didn’t like this post 😀

user maybe he’s busy 😭😭😭 (i’m delulu)

user noooo they broke up 😭😭

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user but they also haven’t confirmed that they’re still together 😭😭

user if u and bruce brake up i’m going to be the next joker 😐

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brucewayne

liked by racheldawes and 23,193,028 others

brucewayne only thing that matters

user NO NONONONK WHY DIDNT SHE LIKE THIS POST

user bruce how could u fumble y/n???? 😭😭

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yourusername

liked by brucewayne and 22,282,018 others

yourusername this place is like 18193819203x bigger than my last place

user IS THAT WAYNE MANOR ⁉️

user 🔊BRUCE WAYNE HAA LIKED THIS POST I REPEAT BRUCE WAYNE HAS LIKED THIS POST🔊

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brucewayne

liked by yourusername and 23,139,730 others

brucewayne you guys really thought i’d let her go?

ps. it was her idea to be dramatic about her moving in

yourusername 🙈🙈

yourusername sryyyy just wanted to have some fun

user U HEARTLESS WOMEN 😭😭

user WAR IS OVER 🙏🙏

user pls don’t ever do that again, i almost had a heart attack 😭

user ya’ll know damn well that these two were giggling and kicking their feet while we were out here dying 💀💀

yourusername posted a story 1 hr ago.

[caption: my forever 🤍]

___

thinking abt writing another brucewayne x reader fic 🤔

[vivwritesfics]

No Need To Ask

Chapter Nine - Duty As A Mafia Wife

The Norris' were a notorious crime family in the UK. One of many. With Norris, the head of the family, running operations with his son, Lando, they work to keep Y/N Norris, Norris' daughter protected. Life in a crime family wasn't something they wanted for her.

But with tension with one of the Spanish crime families rise, Norris and his now deceased wife come up with only one plan, offer their daughter to the Sainz's or risk an all out war.

Warnings: Mrs Sainz makes a sort of comment about the readers weight so be warned for that, smut under the *** (skip if you're uncomfortable), kind of forced sex (in the sense Y/N knows she has to do it, instead of actually wanting to - there isn't no consent though), unprotected sex

2K words

Series Masterlist

The reception was held at Carlos’ impressive house. While the wedding had been happening, the reception was being set up. With long tables full of candles on the golfing green and vases on marble pillars full of colourful flowers.

The usual table had been removed from just outside of the kitchen and live music sat there instead. They were only booked for the first two hours of the reception, with a stereo system ready to take over.

The white car left from the church with Y/N and Carlos in the back. They didn’t kiss at the ceremony, not with how hard Y/N was trying not to cry. She should have run, she thought as soon as the car pulled away from the church. But running wasn’t possible, not when you had at least twenty two of the most powerful men in the world under one roof, not when they all had at least one gun hidden on them.

Throughout the short journey back to the house, Y/N said nothing. Her breathing was erratic. As soon as the car pulled up at the house she was straight out and through the doors, running up to her room. “Y/N!” She heard as Carlos roar as he walked through the doors behind her.

Y/N didn’t dare turn around. She walked straight into her room and straight over to Oscar. He had fixed himself from last night, changed his suit to something more presentable and had used his fingers to fix his hair (because we all know he doesn’t use a comb). “Y/N,” he gasped as she burst into the room. “You look…”

Beautiful. She looked beautiful. But Oscar couldn’t bring himself to say so once he spied the ring on her finger. It was a simple band, with the Sainz family insignia engraved into the metal. She had gained an engagement ring, too. It was a simple ring with a simple stone, but, if Oscar was to guess, he would have guessed in the thousands.

Suddenly, Y/N threw her arms around him. “I really wish you were there,” she whispered. With all of her makeup and the reception still to go, she had to keep herself presentable, she couldn’t yet cry.

“Y/N, querida, we have our wedding reception to attend!” Carlos shouted, his footsteps so heavy they were audible as he walked up the stairs.

Y/N quickly pulled away from Oscar. She grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the door. As she stepped out of her bedroom she let go of his hand, coming face to face with her husband.

But Carlos wasn’t looking at her. He was looking past her, at Oscar. His jaw ticked as he held his hand out for Y/N. “Come, querida,” he said. “We have guest to entertain.”

Y/N placed her hand in his and allowed herself to be walked down the stairs. She followed him down the stairs and out to the back garden.

A couple of guests had arrived already. Not many of them, only Lando and a few of Carlos’ men. Y/N wanted to run to her brother, but she couldn’t, not with how tight Carlos was holding her hand. “Please,” she whispered, looking at the pool. “I-”

“You are my wife now. You are to be at my side, supporting me,” he said.

Behind him, Oscar watched the whole thing. His jaw was clenched as he watched Carlos pull her over to the table on the golfing green, sitting her in one of the middle seats. He could make a scene, distract everyone so that Y/N could run. But he’d get himself kissed in the process. And then who was going to save Y/N?

Several members of different mafia families came to congratulate Y/N. They introduced themselves all of them remarking that they didn’t know Lando had a sister.

And then it was Lando’s turn. “How you holding up?” He asked as he slipped into the seat beside her.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “What happens if I say no?” She asked him, resting her chin on her hand. “Let me guess, nothing. So, I’m holding up great.

Carlos had gone to speak to the likes of Charles and Max and Vettel (as the head of the Vettel family Sebastian could no longer go by his first name. “Congratulations,” said Vettel as he shook Carlos’ hands. “A mafia marriage takes some work, but soon you’ll find yourself in love with her,” he said with a smile.

Shaking his head, Carlos laughed. “I doubt that,” he muttered, which had Charles rolling his eyes. Charles was a romantic. He couldn’t wait to get married, but he always fucked things up, with his girlfriends either wanting to kill him or dead.

The last people to arrive at the wedding were Carlos’ parents. Mrs Sainz made a beeline for Y/N, pushing Lando out of the way. “It is your wedding day,” she began, “but you mustn’t eat a thing.”

“Huh?”

“You cannot be seen to eat a thing today. You cannot get any mess on your dress or be seen bloating.”

Y/N let out a huff. If this day wasn’t bad enough, now she couldn’t eat. As everybody else sat down to eat, some members of some families made toasts. They stood up, holding their champagne as they said kind words to the couple. After every speech Y/N threw the alcohol back. On her empty stomach, she was bound to get very, very drunk.

After the dinner, some people stood up to dance. “I’m going to speak to your friend, Oscar,” said Carlos as he stood up.

Suddenly, Y/N grabbed his hand. “What are you doing?”

But the smile Carlos sent her way was somewhat sweet. “Relax, querida, I just want to thank him for making you feel so comfortable in my home,” he said.

Y/N didn’t see Oscar for the rest of the night. After the band left, Lando pulled her up for a dance, since she hadn’t had a single minute of fun since the wedding began. She was very drunk when Lando got her dancing. She wasn’t caring who saw as she danced around to some of her favourite songs (courtesy of Lando).

***

But then the wedding began to wind down. The guests started to leave, heading back to their respective homes and hotel rooms. Being the last ones stood in their garden, Carlos turned towards Y/N.

He walked over, taking Y/N’s hand. She wordlessly followed him, anxiety settling in the pit of her stomach. This was her duty.

This was her duty as a mafia wife.

Every step she took made her body feel like it was on fire. Carlos didn’t turn left at the top of the stairs towards Y/N’s room. He went right, leading her to the room at the very end of the corridor.

The bed was huge with black sheets and several pillows at the head. There was an armchair shoved into the corner of the room a walk-in closet beside the bed. There was only one bedside table, Y/N realised, between the bed and the walk-in closet. Opposite was an ensuite, black walls that matched the bedroom and a black tub against the back wall.

Carlos shrugged of his suit jacket and undid his bowtie. He unbuttoned his shirt, leaving it on the armchair. “Leave your jewellery on,” he said and unbuckled his belt.

“Wait.”

But Carlos didn’t wait. He strode over to Y/N and turned her around, unzipping the back of her dress. Carlos pushed it off of her shoulders, letting it fall. Before it could expose too much of her, Y/N grabbed the bodice, holding it against her chest.

This was her duty as a mafia wife.

Y/N let the dress fall. She let go of the bodice, wrapping arms around her breasts to keep at least a bit of a dignity. Carlos didn’t touch her. He commanded for her to step out of the dress and sit on the bed.

It was very unromantic, but Y/N didn’t expect anything less. She stepped out of her dress, taking a moment to pick it up and drape it over the chair. It was so beautiful, it seemed such a shame to leave it in a crumpled mess on the floor.

She climbed onto the bed, sitting against the pillow as Carlos placed his gun on the bedside table and pulled off his trousers. There were no words as he climbed on top of her and pulled her hands away from her chest, exposing herself before him.

Carlos grew hard. He took her hand and pulled her close, wrapping her fingers around him.

Her breathing was heavy as she sat there, unsure of what to do. So, Carlos guided her. He moved her hand up and down his length, helping to get him hard. It wasn't for pleasure, it was for procreation.

This was her duty as a mafia wife.

As soon as he was ready, Carlos lined himself up. He didn't look Y/N in the eye, not until he felt her hand on his shoulder. "I'm a virgin," she said quickly.

Well, that changed things. With an exasperated sigh, Carlos sat up. He looked down at her, but he still wasn't meeting her eye.

Carlos reached out, his hand gentle against her thigh. Y/N's breath hitched as his fingertips climbed higher, ghosting over her folds. His touch was still gentle as he pressed harder.

Oh, that felt good, actually. Y/N watched him as he pressed on her clit, his thumb moving over the nerve.

She let out a moan, throwing her head back. Carlos took his as his sign to go further, his index finger dipping inside of her.

Y/N writhed about on the bed, letting out a series of moans. Whether Carlos was enjoying it or not, she didn't know. She didn't know that this entire ordeal was a chore for him.

This was his duty as a future mafia leader.

"Are you ready?" Carlos asked as he pulled his hand away from her.

Y/N nodded. She tried to meet Carlos' eyes as he moved up her body, lining himself up with her centre. Slowly and somewhat gently, Carlos pushed in.

She was tight, tighter than Carlos had ever had before. He listened as she sucked in a sharp breath, stilling his movements.

There was no communication. But at least he was now looking in her eyes. His gorgeous drown eyes were trained on her face, looking for any sign that he could move.

And then she gave it. Carlos moved his hips slowly, thrusting into her.

It was unromantic and over quickly. They weren't having sex for the pleasure of it or trying to prolong the feeling. They were trying to get it done. Carlos grunted as he snapped his hips towards her, jaw clenched.

He spilled his seed inside of her quickly and pulled away, leaving Y/N laying on his bed with a layer of sweat covering her body. She watched as Carlos walked into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, throwing it at her.

"Once you're done cleaning yourself up, you can return to your room," Carlos said and pushed the bathroom door closed, locking himself inside.

Y/N cleaned herself up. She grabbed her dress and held it close to her chest as she ran through the house, heading towards her own bedroom.

She could still feel his seed inside of her as she dropped her dress onto her bed and grabbed her robe. She looked around her room, but Oscar still hadn't returned.

Y/N took her time in the shower. She ran the loofa over her body, washing the sweat from her skin. She ran the loofa between her legs, washing off what she could. After a good half an hour under the hot water her skin was pruney, but Y/N didn't care

Once done with her shower, Y/N wrapped her towel around her body and headed back to her bedroom. The bedroom she had to herself. The bedroom she didn't share with the man that was now her husband.

Slowly, she got changed into her pyjamas. She climbed under the sheets and cried herself to sleep.

Taglist (open): @multi-universe21 @formulas-bitch @gills-lounge @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @carlossainzwho @f1lov3r @samaib11 @charli123456789 @queenofmanydreams @ironmaiden1313 @vellicora @glitterf1 @80sloverry @lightdragonrayne @moonayu @bellsalabanccini @topguncultleader @handsupforamiracle @cmleitora @ashy-kit @jenniferrvsesi @barcelonaloverf1life @sbella13 @nicolettecallednikki @darleneslane @thehufflepuffavenger1 @champagneproblems17 @aespie

[shanastoryteller]

Happy Valentine's Day, Shana!

Can we get more from F is for Frankenstein? Or more 3 faced Goddess? (More of the Iron Man stuff basically. I don't even really go there anymore, but your writing is so great)

a continuations of 1 2 3 4

The thing is, Rhodey would actually prefer it if Tony didn’t come for them, if he didn’t risk his life by walking into what is so obviously a trap meant to kill him, even if it meant both he and Steve died instead.

Morgan is a child still, far from ready to take the throne, and Pepper would manage but at the end of the day this country needs its king – need Tony, not only doing the work that he is to win this war, but as a son of Stark, as a member of the family that’s ruled for over a millennia. Even to those that believe the worst rumors about Tony, his presence on the throne is still a comfort, still a sign that the Goddess hasn’t forsaken them. Morgan won’t be viewed the same. She’s too young.

At the end of the day, he and Steve are just soldiers. They’re far more replaceable.

Beyond that, these are the people that made Tony swallow a star. They don’t know he’s the Iron Mage, but they probably assume that the Iron Mage is going to be nearby anyway, and are preparing for it. Which means Tony will have the element of surprise going for him

But when he was nineteen, Tony kissed him under a peach tree, tasting of the fruit they’d shared, and neither of them have looked back since.  

When the situations had been reversed, Rhodey hadn’t given up, hadn’t stopped looking, and if they’d offered him an invitation like they’re offering Tony, he would have taken it regardless of the danger. And he’d like to say he did all that for his king, but he wouldn’t have gone to nearly as much effort for Greg, for Howard.

He did it because it was Tony.

And not an ounce of logic or sense is going to keep Tony from doing the same.

Not that there’ll be any. Pepper probably didn’t even hesitate, he thinks fondly. They’ve been friends and partners too long. He’d tell Tony to go after Pepper too, even while wishing he wouldn’t come after him now.

“Why are you smiling?” Steve asks warily.

Rhodey rolls his head to the side. Steve is eight years younger than him, six years younger than Tony, and most of the time Rhodey doesn’t notice the difference. He’s seen more war than Rhodey has, after all, and has some mannerisms that remind him of his grandfather. He ages slowly, thanks to the sorcerer’s enchantment, but enough people have spelled themselves with a false youth that it’s not jarring enough to be noteworthy.

Right now, he looks even younger than he is, tired and wary. Rhodey would have thought his resignation would make him look older, but instead if brings to mind every child that’s found themselves trapped on the battlefield.

“It’s going to be alright,” he says gently. “He’ll come.”

Steve grimaces and looks away. “Even if he does. They might just kill us anyway.”

They might, but their sorcerers are skilled enough to read the enchantments tangled on top of both of them. Tony would know if Rhodey was dead. They performed that spell long before Tony ever sat on the throne. Which means they’ll keep them alive at least long enough for Tony to see them, which is probably all the time he’ll need.

But that’s nothing he can say to Steve, nothing he’ll understand when he doesn’t know the king is Edward and the Iron Mage both, so he tilts to the side until their shoulders are pressed together and hopes Steve finds comfort in that.

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

A song of Ice & Shadow

Part 2

You can read part one here.

Summary: To Y/n's dismay, the Illyrians keep coming to their home, and despite her initial reluctance to engage in war talks, she becomes entangled in the political world of the fae. This ends with her worst nightmare becoming a reality.

Word count: 2.9K

Y/n paced around the living room, holding a scientific book amidst a clutter of research papers scattered about. Deeply immersed in her work, she was oblivious to the initial knocks at the door. Eventually, the persistent knocking caught her attention, prompting her to reluctantly abandon her studies.Upon opening the door, however, she found no one present “Are you kidding me?” she exhaled, as she went back to the living room. Just as she got back to reading, Cassian’s voice interrupted her concentration “Hello, y/n. Nice to see you again”.

“For fuck’s sake” she instinctively threw the book in his direction, a reflex action to the sudden intrusion, which he effortlessly evaded. Cassian’s amusement at the gesture was evident as he remarked “A book, really?”.

“Well, when someone is startled by an unexpected visitor, instinct tends to take over” she retorted, her tone a mixture of irritation and explanation.

“I did knock” he reminded, to which she replied “and I did open the door”.

“Wait, you didn’t know I was cloaked?”.

“How would I know? Do I look like some fae expert to you?”.

“Clearly not”.

“Do you enjoy pissing people off?” she asked with a serious tone.

“Sometimes” he replied, his tone tinged with smugness.

“Get a new hobby. People have more important things to do”.

“We’re trying to save everyone, so I’d say that is important”.

“Whatever! I’m not dealing with you. Talk to Nesta. Do you know where her room is or do I have to guide you?”.

“I’ll do just fine on my own”.

“Great, then off you go” she pushed him out of the living room and closed the door.

—

“You wouldn’t believe who I just met at the Bakery, Nes-” Y/n began speaking as she entered the house, unaware of the company they had. Her smile faded when she noticed the two Illyrian males, replaced by a cold, stern expression.“to what do we owe this displeasure?” she inquired, crossing her arms.

Cassian's response mirrored her sentiment, expressing his own reluctance to be there. Before any further exchange could unfold, Azriel interjected with a low, cold voice, revealing the reason for their visit “We received word from the queens”.

“They’ve been sent here to gather information about the house for the queens. They want to know where everything is, in the smallest details” Nesta explained.

Y/n directed her question at her sister “And you believe providing all this information is a good idea?”.

Azriel interjected, 'It's the only way to secure their cooperation”, Nesta nodded.

Y/n stole a glance at the male before returning her gaze on her sister “you do know this puts us in real danger?”.

"Nothing will happen to you or your sisters. Cassian and I will keep watch on the house”.

Despite assurances from Azriel about their safety, Y/n remained unconvinced, her concern evident in her demeanor. Y/n seemed to want to say something but decided against it. As she turned to leave, she was halted by Azriel's words “Feyre expects you to be here tomorrow”. After a brief pause, Y/n tilted her head to the side “Tell her to lower her expectations” she replied before walking out.

—

“Perhaps you should attend, even if just for a little while” Nesta suggested.

“Why? Are two sisters not enough? I don’t wish to be involved in human-fae relations” Y/n clarified.

“I know. I hate this as much as you do, but Feyre is now one of them, so do it for her” Nesta urged.

“Not out of her own free will…I- I don’t know, I’ll think about it” she sighed.

“Not to pressure you or anything but you do know, they’ll be here in a couple of hours” Nesta reminded.

“I know” she shrugged.

“Where is she? They’re gonna be here any minute now” Feyre scanned the room anxiously, looking for Y/n.

“I don’t know. She said she’ll think about it” Nesta told her.

“Think about it? She does realize that this is important, not one of her games” Feyre’s frustration became evident.

“Do you want me to send Az or Cassian to fetch her?” Rhys offered.

“No, that would only make things worse” Feyre dismissed the suggestion.

Dressed in a midnight blue tulle gown that revealed her back and arms, her skin so pale one would think she’s frozen. The fabric flowed around her body like a cloud, complementing her features. She emanated an aura of grace and elegance that would captivate any male who laid eyes on her. Y/n walked into the room, head held high. Her presence seemed to illuminate the room, and much to Azriel’s dismay, his eyes were drawn to her. Something stirred inside of him, something unfamiliar; even his shadows peaked from behind him to study her. He was betrayed by a momentary lapse in composure before pushing his thoughts aside, focusing on the task at hand.

“She’d fit right in at the Night Court” Rhys whispered to Feyre.

“Is that why it took you so long?” Feyre asked her sister.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Y/n tried to hide her smile.

Just as Cassian was about to comment, the queens appeared.

Rhys and Feyre started the conversation with the queens, introducing everyone present in the room. Elain curtseyed, while Nesta and Y/n stayed straight-backed with their heads high. They wasted no time and got to the reason why they were there; to discuss the war looming on their doorstep. -”This territory is a slip of land compared to the vastness of the continent. It is not in our interests to defend it. It would be a waste of resources” one of the queens said, to which Rhys replied “surely the loss of even one innocent life would be abhorrent”.

“Yes. to lose one life is always a horror. But war is war. If we must sacrifice this tiny territory to save the majority, then we shall do it”.

“And here I thought fae kind was the worst. It seems there’s even worse. You’re shameless. As queens, you have a responsibility towards your people. You’re supposed to protect them, all of them. The war hasn’t even started and you’re already doing a bad job of it” Y/n blurted.

“Excuse me?” the queen was taken aback, but so was everyone sitting there.

“Y/n!” Feyre warned.

“What? Is it not your duty to defend your people?” Y/n didn’t back down.

“What my sister is trying to say is that there are good people here” Feyre spoke, before things escalated.

The queens suggested that the fae defend this little territory, but there were counter arguments to that, until the queens mentioned that it was their job since the threat is caused by their own kind and their blood should be the one to spill, to which Y/n didn’t disagree. But then the queens continued to be insensitive, stubborn, selfish creatures, refusing to listen to reason. This made Y/n feel rage; knowing her temper, she excused herself before she screwed up whatever chance of peace they had. “Where do you think you are going?” one of the queens asked.

“Away from here. I am afraid if I stayed, I’d hurt your ego and you’d leave without considering peace, so I am removing myself, respectfully” she bowed mockingly, and a soft smile graced Azriel’s face. 

—

Satisfied with the research she had done, Y/n was able to take a day to relax when a knock interrupted her solitude. She waited a few minutes before reaching the door, silently hoping that someone else would answer it for once “You’d think with many people living in this house, someone else would get the door for once” she sighed as she opened the door, only to find no one there “Ah, I suppose you’re glamoured again. The servants are here today and Nesta isn’t, so unfortunately, we have to go to a more private place. Follow me” she muttered to herself, pausing briefly before shutting the door and retreating upstairs to her room, closing the door behind her “what can I help with today, general?” she turned around to face Cassian, whom by now his cloaking would’ve vanished, but she was met with the other illyrian. Taken aback, she took a step back “you’re not the general”.

“No, I’m not. Nice to see you again” Azriel hid a chuckle.

“I’m sure” Y/n managed to force a polite smile, unaware she was holding her breath.

Noticing her sudden reaction at the sight of him, Azriel inquired “Are you alright?”.

“I’m fine. So, what can I do for you?” She wasted no time asking, not wanting to be distracted by those beautiful hazel eyes.

“I’m here to check if you’ve received a response from the queens”.

“Aren’t you the court’s spymaster? Wouldn’t you know if we had received a letter?” Y/n questioned.

“My spies are positioned in courts, not among mere humans. Besides, I didn’t think you’d appreciate being spied upon. But, I do have other methods to obtain information”.

“Like torture?” she crossed her arms.

“That too”.

“Are you threatening me?” she took a step towards him, but he stood his ground.

“I don’t know how you came to that conclusion. I simply answered your question. Violence is not always the solution” he replied, frustration evident in his tone.

“But it’s often the most effective, wouldn’t you agree?” she smirked, meeting his gaze as his shadows appeared behind her.

“It depends” he held her gaze. For a moment they stood in silence before she finally spoke “to answer your question, no, they did not send word back. I suppose that concludes our meeting”.

“Are you kicking me out” he snorted.

“No, I’m simply stating the fact that you’ve gotten what you came here for, hence, there’s nothing left for you here anymore, or am I mistaken?” she shrugged.

He contemplated for a moment “no, you are absolutely right. I’ll be on my way. Have a nice day” he said, striding towards the window.

“What-? You’re leaving through the window?” she was taken by surprise.

“I have wings, it’s faster” he explained.

“Right, then. Goodbye” she muttered to herself as he left, letting out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding “What the hell was that?” she thought to herself.

The next time they came to meet with the queens, Azriel surveyed the house, but Y/n was nowhere to be seen “your sister won’t be joining us?” he asked Elain.

“No, she went to her other home. Something happened at work” Elain replied.

“And even if she were here, she wouldn’t want to see those self-absorbed queens” Nesta added.

“Oh, I see” Azriel nodded, unsure if he was disappointed or relieved she wasn’t there.

The meeting did not go as well as they had hoped, but it was not a complete disaster either. Rhys offered Nesta and Elain to come live with them in Velaris, but Elain refused, as she was engaged to a fae-hating prick. So, Rhys sent his soldiers to look after them, with one waiting in the room they frequented everyday at noon and midnight in case they changed their minds.

—

Elain and Azriel were talking, when Y/n entered the living room. By now, she had grown somewhat accustomed to the presence of fae in their house, but she still resented it, especially now with fae soldiers guarding them. When Y/n returned, Nesta informed her of everything that happened while she was gone, which naturally annoyed her.

“You’re back” that was her way of greeting Azriel.

“I could say the same to you” he replied, and she narrowed her eyes in confusion. Noticing her expression, Azriel proceeded “you were missed at the meeting with the queens”.

“I doubt ‘missed’ is the word anyone would use, but I’m actually glad I wasn’t there. I don’t think I would’ve been able to hold back. Why are you here, spymaster?” she asked, swallowing hard.

“Y/n” Elain interjected at her sister’s ‘rudeness’.

“Same reason as last time” he answered.

“Did you not get the information yet?” Y/n avoided meeting his eyes.

“I did-”.

“We were having a civil conversation. You should try it some time” Elain muttered.

“No, thank you. I think I’ll stick to my ‘uncivil’ ways” Y/n said, ignoring Azriel once again as she walked out of the room.

“Forgive my sister. She can be rude sometimes, not that she notices often. But she has a kind heart, I promise” Elain tried to defend her sister’s actions.

“Don’t worry about it” he gave Elain a soft smile.

—

The next time Y/n was in the same room as Azriel was when they were face to face with the king of Hybern. She and her sisters were dragged and forced to kneel before the king. Nesta and Elain were in their nightgowns, while Y/n was in a teal dress. Her clothes were torn and covered in blood. Bruises painted her skin in shades of blue and purple, her lips swollen and cut, which oozed blood, same with the cut on her forehead. Her hair tousled, strands escaping from a once-neat bun. Despite her injuries, she stood tall, her posture defiant and unyielding, with a determined glint in her eyes; her spirit remained unbroken. She did not let them take her or her sisters without a fight, one where she fought with all her might until she couldn’t anymore. 

Seeing Feyre and her companions, blood drained from Azriel’s face as he bled all over the floor, with an arrow penetrating his chest, her heart ached and she knew the worst was yet to come. They had failed. Feyre gave her an apologetic look, Rhys held Feyre’s hand in a comforting effort, while Cassian’s eyes were on Nesta and Azriel trying but failing to lift his head as Mor held him. Y/n noticed two other males present, from their physical description, she speculated who they were; the one who held Feyre captive and his friend; Tamlin and Lucien.

Feyre threatened the king, but he warned her to be careful, as he held her sisters’ lives in his hands. He was discussing what he’d do to the sisters with the mortal queens, Feyre and the others tried fighting him but his power was too strong, and with the cauldron he was undefeatable. They had all exhausted their powers and if they tried one more thing, Azriel was going to die, with all that poison coursing through his veins. 

As Elain was dragged towards the cauldron, Y/n broke loose from the men that held her, quickly grabbing the sword from one of their sides, lunging it at the one holding Elain, who fell to the ground, screaming in pain. Before Y/n could reach her sister, the king struck her with his powers, sending her flying across the room “Ah, we have a spirited one here. Throw this one in last.. I want her to watch it all” the king gave his orders.

That blow broke some of Y/n’s bones, but even as she winced in pain she managed to sit up. “NO-” but it was too late, he had given the orders and Elain was thrown into the cauldron, her screams echoing in the room. Then there was silence, and never has Y/n hated silence as she did that moment. She wished for any sound, any cry, scream from her sister, but nothing, she was met with nothing but complete silence. A moment later, Elain was dumped out of the cauldron, alive. She was alive, but her ears, her ears were different, they were pointed, she was fae now. 

A tear slipped down Y/n’s face as Nesta was about to be thrown in, knowing there was nothing she or anyone could do about it. Nesta fought all the way, until her head was shoved underwater. Silence fell again, before the cauldron spat her out. Like Elain, she had changed, but unlike Elain, she was full of rage. She walked over to Elain and pushed Lucien away, holding her as he claimed she was his mate. 

“Bring the spirited one, let’s see if she’ll survive… My money is on you” he told Y/n.

“I will kill you, I promise you that” she threatened while being dragged. She tried fighting the men off, but with many of her bones broken, there was only so much she could do. Stil,l she did not make it easy for them to shove her in. The cauldron bubbled but went still after a moment. Nothing could be seen or heard. A worried look took over Feyre’s face.

“I guess she wasn’t strong-willed after all” the king stated. Just seconds later, Y/n emerged from the water and grabbed the edge as she climbed out of the cauldron. She fell to her knees from all the pain and glared at the king.

Suddenly, Feyre was begging the king to break her bond with Rhys and let them all go. The king agreed and both were on the floor screaming from pain. When the king was done, Mor grabbed the sisters and Rhys grabbed Cassian and Azriel and winnowed out.

The males arrived at the Town House, while the females were dropped off at the House of Wind. They would all need time to heal, physically and mentally.

Taglist: @st4r-girl-official @judig92 @5onedirection5 @nayaniasworld @blackgirlmagicforever

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being ex-HYDRA and Bucky being your mentor

Bucky Barnes x teen!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: @marvelflame2010: “Hello, can you write headcanons for Bucky Barnes being a mentor to a teenager (around 15-16) that was ex-HYDRA and is trying to be a hero? read your request rules, so I hope that this is proper. Thank you!”

sometimes it felt like no one knew what you had went through, being abducted and forced to be a weapon for a secret organization whose purpose was to gain more control

but when you met these avengers, it felt like everyone and their momma knew what it was like

bucky barnes, for example

the winter soldier, a WWII soldier deemed missing in action, presumed dead, and happened to be a prisoner of war and beyond

the experimentation and mind control he endured was much like your own, which gave you some comfort

“does it ever feel weird hearing one of your trigger words as a civilian? you know, now that we got ‘reset?’” -you

“not��no, not really? who’s speaking russian around you, y/n?” -bucky

“uh…i mean, no one. i’ve just been watching a lot of russian tv recently” -you

“why would you naturally assume i am also doing that?” -bucky

“why did you assume i didn’t?” -you

ok, thats not the greatest example of bucky mentoring you, but it’s a great example of sarcastic bickering!

honestly, the hardest part was learning how to be gentle again

if you could even say you were ever gentle to begin with being taken so young

it was hard to be so ruthless and unfeeling and have to start feeling

the nights of panic and anxiety were the worst, they made you wish you had that switch in your mind still. you’d whispered the trigger words to yourself sometimes to see if they were still there and if they could “help” you turn off those feelings

but bucky knew. he knew and he learned and he stuck with you

“y/n, those feelings are good” -buck

“no! no, they’re not. why are you saying it’s good to feel bad? i can’t breathe! i can’t think!” -you

“because you have feelings now. it’s the same as when you’re happy. you get to feel happy, it comes with all that other stuff. you have options, opportunities, this is one of them. you just have to take deep breaths” -bucky

combat training was the strangest feeling

“nope. too hard” “pulling your punches now” “your aim there was lethal” “you can’t put that much force into a chokehold” “cutting someone’s finger off isnt cool, y/n. kind of a dick move” “you automatically try to inflict severe injuries, arteries should not be the go-to. disarm your enemy first, if anything”

nothing ever felt right

if you were fighting effectively, you’d risk killing someone, which isn’t what you do anymore

if you held back too much, you’d be injured or killed, and all this would be for nothing

there had to be a sweet spot, but it was never what you were trained for. you were trained to eliminate your targets by any means

but you understood bucky all the same

bucky was there to help you acclimate to the norm too

like, whatever that was

says the guy with the metal arm and fought in world war ii despite the fact it was now like. 2020-something

like a normal ass dinner

“you know, i rarely ever got to go out to eat as a kid” -bucky

“can you ever say something that doesn’t make you sound ancient?” -you

“hey, you wanna pay for your meal tonight or do you want me to?” -bucky

“sorry…” -you

you liked to watch dumb tv shows (the american kind) with him

he’d indulge for a few minutes and then walk off unless he was REALLY interested

actually, he really enjoyed the office

“which avenger would each character be?” -you

“don’t…don’t make me do that” -bucky

“come on! you know, i kind of think phyllis and bruce are alike. like, theyre soft until they get mad and then all bets are off” -you

“that is…dumb” -bucky

sam really loved that bucky was there for you

but he saw that bucky was kind of doing it to distract himself too

“you know, me and steve found bucky just minding his business a while back. all he wanted then was to be alone, mind his business. this? this was what he needed” -sam

“what? a teenage hydra defector?” -you

“i mean, if youre gonna put it that way” -sam

“no, i get what youre saying” -you

steve actually didn’t come up too much, you know?

you thought bucky was trying to keep himself in the present as much as he could

which was what you were trying to learn from him in the end. how to move forward

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 // @deanzboyfriend //

[lady-ashfade]

I thought It Was Normal

Percy Jackson character x male!reader (gods x reader) (platonic all)

╰･ﾟ✧☽ reader: like klaus from TUA. reader is a little oc in this, but i couldn’t help it. I needed this because I got a funny idea.

╰･ﾟ✧☽ warnings: short , me having little knowledge of what’s to come in the books, not canon just a silly idea

Camp got new campers every year so it wasn’t like they thought anything of you. The only thing is, you looked too confused to be there, everything Chiron said you would would give him the strangest look. Percy happened to be passing by, you got a tour of camp just like he did. And you were a bit to loud with your words- and let’s face it. He’s a little nosy.

“So you’re saying all the gods just drop their kids off here- or, don’t give them attention until they do something they deem worthy?” You ask like you had no care.

“Really a great idea. Half gods with daddy and mommy issues running around in the same place. Doesn’t sound dangerous at all.” You comment and continued walking with a eye roll.

Percy was interested in you right after that. You made him laugh and shared his views when he first came here, and he still thought them. He didn’t have to wait long to introduce himself since you left Hermes cabin in a rush to get away from people.

You didn’t want to talk to him at first. He tried to introduce himself but you brushed him off and said you weren’t willing to speak.

“I know it’s a lot to take in, but I’m sure you’re parent will claim you.”

You stopped in your tracks and turn around and started to flail your arms. “I am human! I have no godly parent, not like you-. Honestly I wish I was because I would be less concerned about my future.”

“That’s new.” A girl’s voice popped up from behind you and out of no where. A girl with a cap in her hands yanked down from her head, she looked intimidating to you.

“Can you all do that? Just appear out of no where?” You asked slightly scared but amazed.

“Let’s go back to the part where you’re human,” Percy stepped forward like you were a bomb of some sort ready to explode. “Why are you here?” You scuffed and shrugged your shoulders.

“So, i happened to eat a crystal I found in the woods behind my house. It was weird and it had me hypnotized, surprised I didn’t break any teeth, and the next minute I know I’m seeing the dead. And these voices are talking to me, then I’m moved off to this camp.”

“Wait the dead?”

“The gods say I need training before I came to them. Which is weird because you think they would train me themselves…do you guys know what I should do? I have no clue why they want me.” You look at both of them for help but Percy is just staring with his mouth open and shocked. Annabeth looks annoyed and looking you up and down.

“Don’t piss them off.”  she was going to be great help.

Months go by and you grow closer to the trio. it was strange how you seemed to have more strength then a human, and could kept up in training with them. not once did you ever get claimed and it still surprised them to this day how you just become something out of the blue. They tried so hard to get their parents attention but you just- stumped upon something and had the gods interests?

yes, you were human. but no longer a human boy, but a god in training.

“did it have to be him? he’s more chaotic then your son Poseidon.” zues rubbed his temple as the gods watch down on you.

“fate is a funny thing brother.“

“I for one love the kid.” ares smirks as you trip percy and let out a vicious scream. nothing evil or mean behind it, just a adrenaline rush. but ares didn’t take it that why, you were going to be a monster.

“I’ll bless him soon, he should stay in my cabin.” Aphrodite smiles and played with her hair. 

“We all know he’s basically my child, the dead thing? Yeah, he’ll be staying with me in the underworld when it’s time.” Hades smirks at all of them.

and just like that the gods are starting a war all over again.

Reader: stumbles upon a crystal

the voices: eat me!!

Reader: No!! Let me go!!

Reader then becomes a god.

[moodymisty]

I would like to throw Sanguinius into the “wants to hunt down his beloved to satiate his latent predatory instincts” arena (especially since he doesn’t indulge them nearly as often as Leman & Lion do, he needs to cut loose 🥴)

But ALSO… Horus wants to be so sugar daddy coded. He wants to actually have kids so not like your typical sugar daddy but he wants to provide for his beloved he wants to drown you in luxury and gifts. It gets him harder than tungsten carbide when he sees you looking dolled up to accompany him somewhere and he knows he bought every single thing you’re wearing (probably down to the underwear cuz we been knew he nasty like that lol). He didn’t just want to raise kids he wanted to occupy that perfect paternal figure archetype as a provider (because he has daddy issues that he “copes” with by trying to one-up Emps XD) and part of the perfect image of his future would probably include a spouse he would spoil and treasure like nobody’s business. This man lives for the constant adoration he gets so of course he wants to hear it from you. The thank yous and bashful looks as he hands you ANOTHER priceless piece of jewelry, mewling and moaning as he’s balls deep in you that you don’t NEED another fur shawl and how people will gossip. Let them talk, let every ear on Terra know the warmaster can and will provide only the finest of the fine things in this whole galaxy for you. Cuz that gets him off too XD

ALKJDFLJSDFLJSKDFOW4ITREHDFNB AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

-----------

"Oh thank you! Warmaster Horus gifted it to me."

You've found yourself saying those words a lot lately, tumbling out of your mouth even before you realize you're saying them.

The dress you wore with sleeves billowing over your wrists, with a train that dusts across the floor is a gift from him, along with the jewelry you wore; The heels you have on are from Horus, custom made from the hide of an animal sourced from a recently annexed planet.

The lingerie you wear under your dress is from him as well- a bra, garter belt, panties and stockings all matching and delicate with lace and silk.

Horus had loved that gift of his in particular, shown in how gentle he was in assisting you while putting it on. And taking it off, now a moments later.

"It sounds like the primarch has quite the warchest, if he's lavishing you with so many gifts." You smile nervously, trying to laugh it off.

You know that despite the relatively simple nature of the comment, that it's implications are less so. There has been gossip going around, talking about Lupercal's spoiled little princess, his brat, and he's been on a manhunt to find the sources of all this talk.

He hasn't told you what he's going to do when he finds out who is nattering insults, which worries you more than a little.

"I keep telling him to stop, that he has thousands of men to feed, but he doesn't really listen."

They smile at you while you try and shrug off their comment, polite and insincere, but amicable enough. At least your response got them away from Horus' gifts.

It's a bit difficult to fend of prying questions about the Warmaster when he isn't around, as many lords and ladies are eager to know anything any everything that could give them a head up. They are all quite interested in the primarchs and their legions goings on, but Horus in particular is of much interest.

Only when you return to Horus' private Terran chambers can you breath, feeling the ache in your feet after so long in heels.

You're taking pins out of your hair when Horus returns, watching you put the pins in a little container before turning to him. He's in his casual war, a massive pelt draped over his shoulder ending right where the start of his baggy brown trousers begin.

"I apologize for missing you, I wish I could've gone but the Mournival had some urgent questions they needed answered." He glances over you, see how you've begun to get ready to settle down. "I hope it went well in my absence, at least." You nod.

"It did, don't worry."

He lets out a soft 'good' in response, but he's already getting down on his knee and pulling something from his trousers.

"I do have something for you. I was going to give it to you before we left, but I suppose I can gift it to you now as an apology for leaving you alone."

You watch as he opens a small box for you, and the shine instantly catches you attention.

They're earrings; Small, delicate and feature a beautiful teal gem as the centerpiece. Horus chuckles.

"You should put them on. I would help but, my hands are not suited for such tiny details."

You can't resist the urge to smile back as you take your current pair out, swapping them for Horus' new ones. He watches with interest the entire time, even as you glance in the large vanity mirror to see them.

"They're perfect Horus, thank you."

You lean forward to wrap your arms around his neck and give him a kiss to the cheek, your lipstick leaving a mark on his tanned skin.

"You always get me so much though, are you sure it's ok?" Horus laughs, a deep chesty laugh as he puts a hand on the small of your back and pulls you closer.

"Ok? Whatever do you mean?" You purse your lips.

"I just don't want you lavish me in all these things when you might be able to use that income for more important things." Horus lets out a softer, quieter laugh, kissing your forehead.

"My love, don't you worry about those things. I have them all handled." His other hand comes up to rest on your jawline, cradling it in his massive palm.

"I only wish to make sure you don't want for a single, solitary thing. If you want something, it is yours. I will make sure of it."

You smile at him, gentle and sweet. You love Horus so much, the feeling is palpable. You wish he wouldn't give you so much however, the gossip is becoming unmanageable. Each time you mention it however

Horus always shrugs it off, saying that they can gossip all they want- It only shows off just how well he takes care of you.

"Do you mind helping me with the buttons on the back of my dress? The handmaid helped me earlier but I think they're off cleaning."

Horus nods and gestures for you to turn around, unfastening the buttons at the nape of your neck. While they're small they aren't as small as the earrings, so he's able to manage the delicate task somewhat easily.

Farther down the trail of buttons eventually the shoulders slide off of you, and the dress pools at your feet.

"You wore it again today,"

Horus says while he looks over your back, and there's an unmistakable look in his eyes at the sight of his gifted lingerie. You turn around, unable to help the way you cross your arms across your stomach.

"It matched the dress, so I thought i would."

His hand drifts over your right thigh, up over the lace top of your stocking, before drifting up and over your hip. He leans inward to press his lips to your collarbone, before lowering to your sternum.

"I should get you another."

You stutter and try to decline his suddenly exclamation as his hands drift upwards, threatening to push your bra up over your breasts.

"Horus, I don't need another, please-"

He hums, and you can feel the vibration go through your chest.

"If you're going to wear it under your dresses then you need multiple, of course."

He's not going to budge on this, and his distractions of kissing your skin are working masterfully. A whimper leaves your throat as one of his hands slides to gently cradle your bottom, and his lips push up your skin to nip at the sensitive skin just below your ear.

"Then... Could you do it in silver? ...I miss the silver of your Luna Wolves regalia."

Horus chuckles, but unlike the one earlier that was so sweet, this one has far more rumble, deeper in his throat.

"Consider it done, my love."

[vodika-vibes]

Hi Vodika 🥰

I'm back with a second ask for your follower celebration!

Could I get a Wolffe x Fem!Reader with a narcissus and pansy bouquet? Where the reader ends up in the hospital and Wolffe confesses his love for her when he visits and realizes how much she means to him?

Please and thank you 💚😘💚

@the-bad-batch-baroness

Accidents Happen

Summary: You've been crushing on Wolffe for, what seems like, forever. But you're convinced that he'll never feel the same. However, when you're injured at work, things change.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 2020

Prompts: Narcissus - unrequited love, Pansy - you occupy my thoughts

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: You did say that Wolffe was on your brain! So I hope this story makes you happy! And here's your personal divider that I made for you. As a note This is Wolffe's message, and This is the reader's messaging.

Early mornings are the worst, you think as your alarm goes off at 5 am.

You lay in bed for a moment, listening to your alarm scream at you from across the room, before you sigh and swing your legs out of the bed and push to your feet. 

Early mornings where you actually have to do work the whole day are even worse. You blearily cross the room and hit the button on top of your clock, before you flip the lightswitch, making it impossible for you to go back to sleep.

And then you cross back to your bed, and grab your comm from its charger.

Several messages from your friends from the night before. Several more from your boss from last night and early this morning. A handful of emails that need to be deleted or responded to in kind.

You sigh heavily, and open the app for your work. You quickly log in for the day, before you go back to your emails. You absently answer several work emails as you pad through the apartment into your kitchen.

You set your comm down on the counter, still scanning your emails, and you grab your electric kettle to fill it with water. You set it back on it’s stand and flick the power switch, before you grab your comm again and turn to leave the room.

You start to reply to an email when the dark blue bubble of your instant messenger pops up on the screen.

You up?

Your heart speeds up and your face heats when you see the simple words sent to you by Wolffe. Your crush on him is, frankly, embarrassing. 

Tragically. Morning Wolffe. What’s up?

Comet has been harassing me to remind you about the book. The one with the birds.

You stare at the screen blankly for a moment, You mean The Raven Emperor series?

How should I know? Probably.

You giggle, Wolffe, there aren’t any actual birds in that book.

I really don’t care, sarad.

Well, someone’s grumpy this morning.

You’d be grumpy too if your twin brother stole all of your caf.

What, the GAR doesn’t give you a caf supply.

The GAR wouldn’t give us armor if we didn’t need it to win the war.

You can hear him rolling his eyes across the text message, and it’s kind of impressive. 

Anyway

Me and the boys are going to 79s this evening

Coming?

I wish.

I have a building that I need to appraise, and it’s something like 200 apartment buildings. 

I’m going to be busy until midnight

🥺

Ah.

Well, next time then.

You wait a moment for Wolffe to say something else, but he went offline soon after.

I want to go on a date with you. Your finger hovers over the send button, before you sigh and shake your head, deleting the message. 

Wolffe would never be interested in you. Not like that.

You just have to be happy with his friendship.

And here you thought ‘love unrequited’ was just something in the trashy romance novels you read in secret.

You allow yourself to wallow for a whole 30 seconds, and then you remember that you still have to shower and eat breakfast, and you toss your comm on your bed as you hurry into the fresher.

The chat with Wolffe means that you don’t have time for a proper breakfast, especially if you give yourself time enough to shower properly, but you think it was worth it. He’s Wolffe, after all.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re scrambling out of your fresher, pulling your wet hair into a messy knot at the back of your head, and you hurry back into the kitchen. 

In your rush you accidentally pour some hot water over your thumb as you fill your travel mug with the water, and you release a pained hiss. “I don’t have time for this,” You say to the empty apartment. You eye the blister critically, and decide that it’s not worth the hassle of treating it

Quickly, but carefully, you finish putting your breakfast together, and you hurry out the front door.

Your boss wants you at the complex by 6 am.

And luckily, you make it. By the skin of your teeth, maybe, but you’re still on time.

“You’re almost late,” the stern looking older man scolds.

“The keyword there being almost,” You counter, as you look up at the building, “This is the Meridian Complex?”

“Yep.”

“You spent how much on this?”

“2.5 Million Credits,” He sounds proud about it.

“This is a death trap.” You point out, cringing as a fake shutter falls off a window three stories up.

“It just needs a little work.” Your boss says, and then he pauses, “You are up to date on your vaccines, right?”

“Ha. You’re hilarious.” You pull your datapad out of your car, and glance at the information on the screen, “You have the keys?”

“Yup, all of the door codes are set to 00000.”

“Noted.” You make a note on the datapad, “After you.”

Half an hour later, you realize that your conservative estimation of this taking until midnight was far, far too generous. This is going to take days.

You look around at the rotting floorboards, and at the graffiti and holes on the walls, and you sigh. At least the paycheck is going to be really nice.

“Hey! I think I found a half decent apartment!” Your boss calls from down the stairs, “Second floor, 209. We can use this as a staging room.”

“Coming!” You shake your head at the sheer mess, and half wonder if you could message Wolffe and ask for the Wolfpack to help. You laugh softly at the idea, the boys would be more than happy to help, you’re sure, but it’s not realistic.

You start up the stairs.

But, if he was willing to help, you could spend more time with Wolffe, which would be a win.

A weird noise makes you slow to a stop, and you pause, tilting your head to listen better.

“What are you doing?” Your boss asks from the top of the stairs.

“...I heard something-” You trail off as there’s a cracking noise under your feet.

Your boss’ face goes gray. “Hurry!”

You go to take one more step, when the cracking noise returns. And when you put your foot down on the stair…it keeps going.

You don’t even have time to scream as the staircase collapses under you.

The last thing you see as you topple backwards is your boss’ horrified face, and you hear a shout of your name.

Wolffe is not having a super day.

On top of the fact that Fox stole all of the Caf and the fact that he’s been confined in his office doing paperwork all morning, the fact that the Wolfpack’s pretty sarad won’t be joining them at 79s tonight just shoved him into an awful mood.

Nights out are always better when she’s with them.

He glowers at the various documents that need his signatures. He should be grateful. He’s not Marshal Commander. He’s seen the amount of work that Cody, Fox, and Bly have on a daily basis.

He’s lucky that he is only a commander and he only has this much work to do.

…yeah, nope. That didn’t help.

He rests his head on his hand as he taps his stylus against the table. “When Alpha said that a command position was worth it, he was a filthy liar.” Wolffe announces to the room at large.

He should make Comet do this paperwork in exchange for the free time he’ll need to read that book series he’s going to borrow-

Wolffe’s thought process is cut off when his office door slides open and Comet bursts in, “Commander!”

“What is it?”

“Sarad is in the hospital.”

Wolffe’s heart drops into his stomach. He drops all of his work and grabs his helmet, “Which hospital?”

“Coruscant General. Sir, where-?”

“I’m going to go check on her, of course.” He pushes past Comet, “You’re in charge until I get back.”

“Yes, sir.” Comet pauses, “Let us know how she is?”

“I will,”

The trip to Coruscant General doesn’t take long, Wolffe is able to walk the distance. And, as luck has it, no one stops him when he enters the hospital properly.

“Can I help you sir?” The nurse at reception asks.

“I hope so,” Wolffe replies, before he offers her name, “I was told that she’s here.”

The woman nods, “Are you the husband?”

Wolffe pauses for half a second, “Yes, that's right.” He lies.

She nods again, “On the fifth floor, room 517.”

“Thank you.” He marches over to the lift, and presses the button for the fifth floor. Wolffe’s mind is whirling. How was she hurt? How badly? Does he need to set up a guard rotation for her?

Did someone attack her? Does he need to get the guard involved?

The lift comes to a stop and he steps out, and heads to the nurses station. He offers her name once more, and again, lies about being her husband, and he’s pointed in the right direction.

The door is shut, and Wolffe lightly knocks on the door. He doesn’t get a response, but he pushes the door open anyway.

“Sarad?” The lights are dimmed, but not so much that he’s not able to see her.

She looks…bad.

Covered in bruises and bandages. Various machines attached to her, monitoring her heart rate and blood pressure and giving her IV medication.

“Oh, cyare.” Wolffe walks over to her, and looks her over. Every inch of her is covered in angry looking bruises or cuts. “What happened?” Gently, very gently, he brushes a strand of hair out of her face.

A lot of the tension he hadn’t realized that he was carrying drains from his body now that he’s sure that she’s not dying or dead.

It’s kind of funny, in a way.

Sure, he’s always known that his sarad was important to him. He’s not been blind to the fact that she’s always on his mind and that he never isn’t thinking about her. But he didn’t know just how important until this very moment.

Wolffe’s fingers linger on her cheek, and he’s startled when he hears a soft moan from her. “Sarad?”

Hazy eyes peer up at him, confused, “‘lffe?”

“Yeah,” He smiles at her, “It’s me. How are you feeling?”

“...wh’re?”

“You’re at Coruscant General, you were hurt, do you remember?”

Her fingers flex, and Wolffe takes her hand in his free hand, “Stairs,” She mumbles, some of the haze leaving her voice, “The stairs collapsed-”

“Unlucky,” Wolffe says quietly, as he sets his helmet on the side table and then sits in a seat, “How are you feeling?”

She’s quiet as she considers his question, “...fuzzy.” She finally says.

He chuckles, “I’m not surprised, by the look of it, you’re on some good pain medicine.”

“Wolffe?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you in the hospital? Are you hurt?” She asks, her brow furrowed as she tries to puzzle it out.

“Come on, Sarad. You know the hospital doesn’t treat clones.” Wolffe brushes his fingers across her lips, “I’m here for you, of course.” He pauses, “I also let everyone believe that I’m your husband. Sorry.”

She hums, “I don’t mind.”

“That I lied?”

“Being your wife.” She clarifies, “Sounds like fun. Let’s do that.”

Wolffe laughs, “I think we’re skipping a couple of steps, Sarad.”

She hums again, her eyes fluttering closed, “Don’ care. Love Wolffe.” She mumbles.

His breath catches in his throat for a moment. And then a wide grin crosses his face. “Are you still awake, cyare?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I love you.” He whispers into her ear, and then he presses a light kiss to her temple, “You’re not going to remember this when you sober up, and that’s okay. I’ll just tell you again and again, as many times as you need.”

She smiles at him, the drugs hitting her hard again, “Stay?”

“For as long as you want me, sarad. Promise.”