#but i love warlord soma

[kassandras-one-braincell]

warlord!soma has been plaguing my thoughts for like days now. just…sitting in between her spread legs with your head on one of her thighs while she strokes your hair like a good little pet?? doing it while she casts her judgement on whatever poor fool was brought before her?? the raw power and fear she exudes that’s only softened for her love??

i want this woman to do whatever she wants to me

Hhhhhh morally questionable AUs are my weakness.

Warlords never keep anything around for long if they don't have any purpose. To an outsider, you might appear a lost cat, all docile by her feet while her hand toys with your hair. A spoiled cat, no doubt, if the furs you're perched atop is indicative of anything.

But to Soma, you're indispensable; her rivals have land and gold, armies and trade deeds, but none of them have somebody completely and utterly submissive to them in the way you are to her. Your docility is testament to her dominion. You are a symbol of her power.

Of course, noblemen are stupid. Some stupider than others, like the poor sod who insinuated that you were a possession, one to be passed around after her meeting adjourns like a harlot, because "what other use is there" for you?

The other men at the table exchange knowing looks amongst themselves. Soma's hand pauses momentarily before smoothing over the top of your head, gently beckoning you to lean against her leg so she can massage your temple, rubbing away the tension there as you struggle to contain your emotions at his implication. She never raises her voice - it isn't necessary with the fear she commands, and doing so would only upset her sweet love further.

Within moments, he's grovelling. Kneeling, the pathetic bastard, pleading ignorance as if it would save him from her wrath. She doesn't need to tell her men to drag him away; they know where to take him to await a slow, agonising death by her hand.

The second her ears pick up on a hitched breath escaping from your lips, the table is dismissed. There's an air of relief about the other noblemen as they all but scurry out of the longhouse. As much as Soma revels in an excuse to tear a person apart, this time there is a cost: her darling is fighting back tears. You're too good for her, she thinks, as she kisses away your qualms, reassuring you that you complete her. That bastard can rot in his cell until you're sleeping soundly in her arms, in a bedchamber fit for a goddess - she'll be damned if you deserve anything less. Only then will she slip away to exact his punishment. There's a hefty blood price to pay for insulting her love.

[nekkyousagi]

Okay, I'm curious now. Out of all of your OCs, which is your favorite/are your favorites? And tell me more about them.

Oh thanks for asking!! I only have a small handful of OCs, most of them for the Sengoku Basara universe. My favorite of them has to be Soma Yoshitane!

A warlord in charge of protecting Soma clan and sometimes at odds with the main character One-Eyed Dragon, Date Masamune! Though he’s most involved in his rivalry with Masamune’s cousin Date Shigezane! He’s a big and strong red-head, very kind, lover of animals, skilled in horsemanship and wielding a spear, but actually hates fighting in battles and taking lives in war. He tries to live the life of a noble samurai, with all the poised mannerisms and presence required, but isn’t very good at it, try as he may. He’s honest and loyal, full of duty and chivalry, but just very bad at romance and writing calligraphy and poetry. I love him sooooo very much!

I also have two sci-fi characters I’ve been developing, Owen Sparks: an Australian human engineer and Raas: a regal blue alien who loves collecting stuff from Earth! They both live on an alien space station way out in the light of the Orion Nebula. Their story “Orion Days” is still a work-in-progress. But I like drawing their growing friendship and adventures in space just for fun!

There are a few more, but I could go on an on. Haha! Thanks again for asking about my OCs!!

[otomeverything]

MINEO ENOMOTO Visual Novel: Collar x Malice Age: 23 Hobbies: Reading books about Toshizou Hijikata and “100 Heart-jerking Love Confessions” Likes: Sengoku Period, Field Work, Pudding♥ VA: Soma Saito

Click for his walkthrough here. Click for Collar x Malice game review here.

Character Background Mineo is the comical relief of the bunch. He’s often seen butting heads with Sazasuka and is sometimes treated as an errand boy for both Aiji and Takeru. He may be considered to have the weakest aptitude when it comes to the X-Day investigations but he has the knack for pursuing cases until the end, once he’s made up his mind about it. Before he quit his job as a police officer, he was previously assigned in the Field Operations Team of Shinjuku and was considered one of the best in their department due to his  speed and audacity. He was also in the line for a promotion prior to his resignation.

His Trademark: He wears an eye patch to resemble his Sengoku warlord idol, Date Masamune.

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  Personality Mineo tends to be very shy and unsociable when it comes to women. He is honest to a fault, and is able to charm and befriend people very quickly. He demonstrates his likability when he befriends Hanako Kobayashi “Hana” (in his route) and Kazuki Hoshino, Ichika’s brother (both in his route and Shiraishi’s). Mineo can also get a little clumsy when it comes to his social cues as he has the tendency to blurt out his thoughts without meaning to and sometimes ends up saying too much.

  Relationship with the Heroine His romantic exchange with Ichika is as light-hearted as his route as a whole. Mineo’s story was filled with a couple of adorable instances where we see him blush because of Ichika’s straightforwardness. It’s very cute. He felt like a high school sweetheart.♥

It was also because of Ichika that he was finally able to pursue the April and May X-Day cases. This guy needs a little push for motivation.

  ENOMOTO’S ROUTE Mineo is the perfect first route to take in Collar x Malice for the reason that his story offers very few spoilers of the game’s underlying plot line. There were very few revealed information regarding the X-Day cases as a whole in his story, that it almost felt like it was literally shrugged off at the end (this cliffhanger however, was explained in Aiji’s route). His story pacing was also very slow when you compare it to others.

Although, I personally enjoyed Enomoto’s route as a whole, there were a few pros and cons that were notable during his events.

Positive Points ＼(＾▽＾)／

The fact that Enomoto knows and accepts that he’s the least useful guy around in the group when it comes to the X-Day investigations.

The sibling relationship between Ichika and her brother Kazuki in this route was very pragmatic that it felt so real. One of my favorite highlights in Enomoto’s route were the ups and downs of Ichika’s bonding with her little brother.

Mineo greatly respects his superiors and always have this genuine faith in them no matter the circumstances.

Enomoto is a true gentleman for offering Ichika a piggyback ride when she twisted her ankle running after him.

He has the strongest bond and is the closest to Kazuki, the protagonist’s little brother compared to the other guys (in their routes).

Mineo profoundly appreciates and respects Yanagi as his “senpai“. He also praises him all the time for Aiji’s exemplary cooking skills.

His love for pudding and how he gets excited to have some, is just too adorable for words.

Him losing it, when the thugs attempted to make Ichika strip in public. I find it sweet when~He wanted to beat them up to a pulp.

His unconventional sense of style~ He’s the only one who wears a printed shirt inside. He wears an eyepatch and carries a paper fan as his trademark. He also wears a standard yukata in his (extra) story.

Negative Points ┐(︶▽︶)┌

It took him a while to put his trust on Ichika that half of his route was spent on the heroine stubbornly pursuing to become partners with him.

He easily loses his temper when provoked, humiliating himself in the end.

Because of his trust issues, he became so paranoid that Ichika may be part of Adonis, that he even suggested to delay giving the antidote of her collar’s poison just in case.

If it wasn’t for Ichika’s determination, Mineo would’ve never pursued the X-Day Investigations seriously.

He can’t say ‘NO’ when his masculinity is in question. Because of this, Okazaki ended up tagging along on his supposed-to-be lunch date with Ichika.

Dwells a lot on self loathing.

Why is he living at Aiji’s apartment/office, doesn’t he have a place of his own?

Some Thoughts I kinda feel that Mineo was a well fit match for Ichika since they are very alike in personality. He also doesn’t have too many issues, he’s not a jerk to her and he already has Kazuki’s approval. Their tenacity and  unwavering sense of determination is a common ground for both of them. It’s a cute relationship, one that can last long as I see it.

  For this route’s sexy meter, I’ll give it an over all 7/10 score. Although it was the least appealing / sexy route compared to others in Collar x Malice, i still enjoyed his story to the fullest. Mineo is a very sweet and loving character. His honesty was his winning factor, but he does need more improvement when it comes to making women swoon. Perhaps he really needed his “100 Heart-jerking Love Confessions” book after all. 

  Four Leaf Clover ~ Mineo Enomoto Review MINEO ENOMOTO Visual Novel: Collar x Malice Age: 23 Hobbies: Reading books about Toshizou Hijikata and "100 Heart-jerking Love Confessions"

[kassandras-one-braincell]

After having a shitty day at work my one remaining brain cell decided to start continuing on w your villain hcs for our favorite murder ladies. Maybe Kassandra would be Deimos in this situation or an extremely bloodthirsty and law breaking mercenary, Eivor either an Order member or a brutal warlord? and I can't think of anything for Soma rn

Love me some evil murder ladies and thinking about all of the bad things they could and would do for me bc they love me 🥺

That and a mechanic au bc I have to take my car to an auto shop to get it fixed and like women fixing cars? Attractive and I would gladly listen to them explain literally anything about a car

Murder ladies best ladies 🥺

Yeah personally I can never picture Kassandra as Deimos, because that would imply Alexios is the Eagle-Bearer and he gives me the biggest ick conceivable. He doesn't deserve that title. Stinky.

So let's talk irredeemably evil women who care about one person and that's you 🥰 Minors don't even think about touching the cut

(it should be said that there is a lot of violence under the cut - torture, disembowelment, scalping in slight detail - and of course it isn’t healthy knowingly taking an evil woman for a lover, not that it would stop us lmaooo. but please read at your own discretion)

Kassandra:

The most feared mercenary in Greece. She excels at what she does, but she enjoys the bloodier contracts a lot more than what’s healthy. The sounds of snapping bones and the squelch of a blade cutting through flesh bring a smile to her face. Her crew aboard the Adrestia fears her, and the shadier figures around the country struggle to sleep with the looming possibility of waking to her spear.

The only exemption from her depravity is you: you’re the brightest ray of light in Kassandra’s life. Her blood-money ensures you can live safely and comfortably without ever having to lift a finger. A part of her wants to stow you away in a cosy palace on an island so you would never have to witness the atrocities she commits, but you’d both miss each other terribly. Instead, she has a small house on every island for when you aren’t sailing.

But with her notoriety comes enemies. People want her dead, but are too afraid to instigate a hit on her. Anyone who tried didn’t live long enough to tell the tale. So one day, a corrupt man with far too much money and influence thought it wise to lure Kassandra into a trap. He hired a group to kidnap her one weakness, tying you up in a dingy cave, instructing messengers to leave subtle clues on your whereabouts. With a harsh grip on your hair, he promised that if she didn’t show up soon, he’d start hurting you. The array of tools atop a nearby boulder told you all you needed to know about his candour.

Oh, she showed up alright.

Kassandra is a smart woman. Any soul guarding the entrance to the cave was snuffed out before they could blink. They died far too swiftly for her liking, but your safety was her priority. When she found you in the cave, tears streaming down your cheeks with the conspirer’s knife grazing your skin, the final tether of her patience snapped. She shot his hand with her bow, then his knee, before slicing the heels of every other guard and binding their wrists. With them incapacitated, she turned her full attention back to the man about to hurt you, stabbing him over and over and over and over until his blood drenched her face.

When the - now rather literal - red mist dissipated, she didn’t waste a second before enveloping you in her arms, stroking your hair and kissing your temple firmly, whispering how worried she was and urgently asking if they hurt you in any way, tears pricking the corners of her eyes because she was scared. After checking you over, kissing you one or two or a dozen more times, she scooped you up and carried you back to her ship, lying you down and staying with you while you got some food in your belly, not quite ready to leave you alone. She orders her crew to lug the immobile guards back to her ship.

That night, Tartarus is unleashed upon the deck of the Adrestia. She took her time torturing the men who tried to harm you in a plethora of ways for her own amusement until they were crying in puddles of their own blood and piss.

Their wails of agony woke you from your light slumber. It was a cold night and Kassandra didn’t come to bed with you, so you woke up uneasy, still shaken from the incident and unable to feel safe without your misthios’ protective embrace. You knew she didn’t like to be disturbed when “working”, but you needed her.

The moment you asked in your sweet, slightly frightened voice for her to come to bed with you, she dropped her weapon. You never had to explain yourself to her; you shared a soul, you being the good and her being the bad. Her current subject had his neck snapped - the most mercy she had shown anyone all year, really. And as she held you in the captain’s quarters, listening to your soft breathing, she swore she would double the pain she inflicted on those men for disturbing your peace with their incessant crying.

Eivor:

Oh, cruel warlord Eivor. The chieftain who raids with the drengir of her clan not for supplies for her settlement, but to hurt, to burn, to ravage people of their possessions and to hurt again. Her rule was that people had the chance to flee, and she and her men would respect their choice, but if anybody crossed her, they died.

Her title of the “Scourge of Mercia” wasn’t earned through the eradication of false kings. No, no, she purged the kingdom of anybody who dared stake a claim to a crown or sizeable plot of land, and thrived in the aftermath: a chaos-ridden, kingless land. She did debate taking the title of King for herself, but thought better of it; with kingship came taxes and politics, which left less time for raiding. Eivor liked to have fun, after all.

But that doesn’t mean she couldn’t have a queen. You were a princess, the stepdaughter of one of the “kings” she loathed particularly, about to be married off to some undeserving man. Eivor was smitten the second she laid eyes on you, when she was scouting your stepfather’s keep for infiltration points - your castle was well-fortified, and she wasn’t a fool, she would seize the land with as few casualties on her side as possible - and pledged to save you from your miserable fate. She courted you properly, not incapable of nobility herself, and swore to whisk you away before you were married. You fell for her alarmingly fast, even though she was a terrifying Pagan who you were raised in fear of. But nobody had made you feel loved before.

She stormed the castle on your wedding day. It was nothing short of a bloodbath, the decorative petals on the ground stained crimson with entrails scattered between them. You were crying at the altar, not out of fear, but because you thought Eivor had broken her promise and was about to desert you, leaving you to be married off. Gods, her heart shattered then and there. She dislodged her axe from somebody’s skull and ran to kiss you, ripping off your veil, reassuring you that she would never abandon you, that if you’d still have her she would make you so, so happy. Her men had never seen her so soft. They knew then and there that you were special and not to be trifled with.

As she carried you away from the carnage, she ordered her men to gather the blood of the castle army. She had Gunnar forge a necklace from the iron in the blood and weld a pendant to the centre: a hollow crystal that she filled with her own blood, so that she would always be close to your heart. When she asked you to marry her, she gave you the necklace. Your heart swelled, of course, but then your stomach dropped, thinking that you’d be expected to make yourself bleed for her in return. Eivor immediately put your nerves to rest, saying, “My sweet dove, for you to feel the slightest pain would pierce me like a knife. All I ask for is your love.”

But while she was sweet and tender with you, her foes outside of her clan (and the traitors within, moreover) were met with a sadist who tortured ruthlessly for her own entertainment. She preferred live targets to training dummies. She would read of a particularly creative method of torture or execution and be itching to try it. Her poems sung of the blood she spilled and the queen who knew nothing of her deplorable joys.

Well, sort of. You knew Eivor was well acquainted with torture, and assumed that the men she brutalised were holding incredibly important information. Not caring for details, you never asked what they did to be sobbing with dozens of carefully opened wounds. Raised a princess your whole life, you were terribly squeamish; upon witnessing your first Vikingr execution, you fainted at the sight. Eivor’s men caught you before you could hit the ground - they were like brothers to her, and wouldn’t risk you hitting your head. She paused the execution as soon as you were brought to her attention, leaving the traitor on the stand half-disembowelled, and carried you to bed, ensuring you were in the safe hands of the servants before resuming.

You mattered most. If there was an object your heart desired, you would get it. Growing up as royalty meant you rather fancied material possessions, which gave Eivor an excuse to raid, just to bring you beautiful jewellery and dresses and decorate your darling body with the spoils of war. She would take the pretty things by force if it came to it. Nobody, nothing, came in the way of seeing her wife smile.

Soma:

Conquest was never as important as kingdom to Soma. She cared deeply for Grantebridge...and that was it. The remainder of England lived as a collection of pawns for her to dispose of as she saw fit, and if a lord of some pathetic little shire thought to challenge her, she would send his people his head as a harsh reminder.

Her port thrived under her rule, and with a port comes trade. You were the handmaiden of an ostentatious merchant’s wife, abused and living in fear of her next command. Soma first saw you with a split lip, covered in bruises, trembling under the weight of her gaze, flinching the moment the woman opened her painted mouth. Her steel heart softened; she may have been nefarious, but the notion of forcing people into servitude made her blood boil.

The evening of your arrival, she managed to ease you out of the wretch’s grasp. She wrapped your quivering form in the bear’s fur draped across her shoulders as she cleaned your busted lip, asking how such a sweet little thing as yourself wound up in that old bitch’s hands. And you broke down, telling this stranger, who you knew hurt people, everything: how she beat you and broke your spirit with her words, and threatened to let her husband’s men do unspeakable things to you every time you misplaced so much as a strand of the hair she obsessed over.

Soma held you as you wept, infuriated by the words falling upon her ears. She offered you a new, free life, asking what your passions were, promising you the freedom to explore them without inhibition. She wanted to see the tender soul within you flourish, for a reason inexplicable to her.

That night, she told you to keep far away from the guest quarters where the merchant and your mistress slept. She gave you clean clothes and allowed you to sleep in her bed, where nobody would dare disturb your slumber - the first real bed you had slept on in a long time. Entering the guest bedchamber with a plan, she first took the eyes of the merchant - befitting of his apparent see-no-evil attitude - as to spare him from witnessing the wrath she was about to inflict upon his wife. She ripped the hair your mistress cared for so deeply from her skull, scalp and all, a feral glint in her eye as she sobbed in anguish. The couple, one blind and the other in blinding pain, were escorted to their ship during the night so the eyes of the town’s children would be spared.

You were kept awake by the sounds, and thought yourself diseased in the head for not being disturbed by her agonised screams. The Jarlskona would not want somebody so sick in her town, you thought, tears streaming down your cheeks. But Soma found you, apologising to you for her inconsideration. She embraced you as you were honest in your emotions, and she convinced you that you were the purest, loveliest soul to set foot in her town.

When Soma saw you sat bathed in the sun amidst a field of flowers, delicately weaving some into a crown, finally free from suffering, she was convinced you were a nymph who had wandered too far from the forest whence you came. You were the epitome of beauty, glowing in the sunlight. The gods had brought you to Grantebridge. She pledged to herself to take you as her bride. But you deserved to be treated with amity, so she courted you formally, never wanting to bring you discomfort. Birna and Lif joked that she had gone soft, to which she always grinned, but Galinn dared to speak against you, saying you were peasant blood and good for nothing but servitude. Her dagger shore open his throat faster than he could blink.

She now had one more reason to keep the port safe from plotters and bandits. Seeing you play with the town’s children, telling them Saxon tales of dragons and warlocks, lounging about the flowers and lending a hand whenever to help the port thrive filled her with more joy than bloodshed ever had. So she would annihilate those who threatened her town, torturing them for information on fellow conspirers, for your safety. But she would always wash her hands before caressing her darling, for you did not deserve to be tainted with the blood of filth.

( I could be persuaded to write smut snippets for each of the ladies with these depraved personas so do let me know if you would be interested <3 )

[kassandras-one-braincell]

you know what i really like about soma? (apart from her voice and her hair and her attitude) her eyeliner/eye make up. she really suits it. i can imagine her taking some time to take care of herself, like washing her hair and combing it and ughhhh, self care babe

The fact that a viking warlord can do a more effortless smokey eye than me is embarrassing 😂

You're so right babes, Soma definitely values self care! From her opening cutscene where she washes her hands after popping that guy's leg into place you can just tell that she values good hygiene, and that's HOT. I just wanna pamper her and wash her hair for her 🥺👉👈

And in a modern au I just know she exfoliates regularly and does a face mask once a week and loves herself a bubble bath. Fight me on it. Soma takes care of herself 😍