#of romantic fantasy in animated form

[rocaillefox]

can people please stop turning furry worlds into fantastical racism/making up furry stereotypes. i do not want to read 'all cats are troublemakers. all bears are police. all rabbits are caregivers.' like, peoples features and bodies do not signify anything about personality, morality, political stance, etc. and the bioessentialism inherent to that concept absolutely reeks. this is not a politically neutral thing jsjfbvj

[shooting-love-arrows]

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄 — 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄

SYNOPSIS: 𝐕𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬!𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 characters and their yandere tendencies. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 (!aged up to be a legal adult!) x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 x reader [romantic]; 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 x reader [platonic]; readers gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified Tw. delusion, delulu is the solulu, obsessive thoughts/behavior, possessive thoughts/behavior, witchcraft/dark magic, mention of love making, manipulations, controlling behavior, tyranny (?), concent? what is it?, stalking, worshiping, creepy behavior, creepy people, hunting, mention of m*rder, punishments, yeah… A/N: I hold Snow White close to my heart. However, as much as I adore the animated version, I find the book more interesting. So this is based on German fairy tale or folk tale, [Snow White] written by the Brothers Grimm (Jacob Ludwig Karl Grimm and Wilhelm Karl Grimm). Snow White is AGED UP!

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 who thinks of you as her first, last and only love. She, just like most women her age, believes in soulmates. It's just so...romantic.

It happens that in her opinion, you're the one. Since the moment she lays her doe like eyes on you, she just knows that your souls are tied and destined to be one.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 fantasies about you. A lot. At first, those are innocent fantasies. Scenarios about you running around each other, playfully starting your courtship. Then your feelings shall grow deeper, the roots growing deep into your heart and so your courtship becomes more prominent and serious. Those playful touches become more affectionate. Holding a deeper meaning and reaching down into your essence of being. Then, you'll propose to her, in the most dreamy way one can imagine. Fret not, she'll (shout) say yes. Wedding preparations will follow soon after, then a grand, royal wedding itself and finally, you'll spend your first night together. Ah yes, the moment your bond will materialize in the form of a night full of passionate love making. The spiral goes on deep and each time 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts the imaginary movie roll over, her daydreams take a darker turn. 

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 becomes very needy for your attention. She's just so touch starved to be noticed by her object of affection that she's just about to do something to make you see her as your potential wife. She'll dress up for you, looking like a princess that she is, otherwordly beautiful and charming; make sure to sing when she knows you're near acting like a siren who is ready to catch you in her net of love; showing off her many talents especially those she knows will catch your attention and let her start a conversation with you. And every time you do talk, it's like the whole world disappears, leaving only you. You find it a little concerning with how much 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 sighs and flutters her long eyelashes. Sometimes you wonder if she even pays attention to what your saying (or worse, that you bore her), since she seems to be stuck in her head. And her eyes seemed to have that strange glint that appears only when she looks at you…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐞 starts being interested in witchcraft. It is an unexpected turn but I feel like she searched for something deeper. Knowing that your soulmates (it's her opinion) just isn't enough. She must be sure. A way to truly bind you together. So…uh…like mother, like (step) daughter?

Don't get me started on what she writes in her diaries…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 who commands you to be her lover. Simple as that. She doesn't wait, nor ask for your opinion in that matter. After the (not so) mysterious disappearance of her husband – the King and Snow's White father – she'll have absolute power in the Queendom. And since she's the Queen and the most entitled person around, you'll have to comply with her wishes. Otherwise, she won't hesitate to force you to via poisons and dark magic.

She'll force feed you all sorts of aphrodisiacs, make voodoo dolls either of you or someone from your surroundings and in the end reduce you to being her puppet. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 doesn't need you to think. Just look pretty (but not as her) and submit to her entirely. Be her best and most treasured accessory, hm?

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 often uses a spying mirror to stalk you. Whenever she's not busy leading the Queendom or simply desires to see you, she'll sit in her lavish chambers and command her mirror to show you. She knows it can only tell her the truth and only the truth, so additionally she'll ask all sorts of questions about you. Are you loyal to her? Do you have a family she shuld take care of? Do you have feelings for someone? If she finds out that you do have and it's not for her, the very next day a public execution is made for your crush. 

You're not safe from her wrath and mood swings either. Like mentioned before, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐄𝐯𝐢𝐥 𝐐𝐮𝐞𝐞𝐧 isn't afraid to punish those who are against her in any way. She won't kill you but your punishments will be severe. Whipping and isolation are her way to go. Scars shall be your reminder to not cross her and loneliness borderlining to madness will thrust you right in her arms. Just like she didn't hesitate to assassinate Snow White, she'll make sure you understand your place and take your role as her lover seriously. 

She's all you need now and in the future. Your family, close friends and anyone you had connection with were taken care of. You're her loyal subject, made to worship her and serve her by giving her your never ending supply of love and affection.

She'll make you see that.

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 who is your devoted worshiper. He sees you as some sort of higher being, who graced this dirty Earth with your pure presence. Who has graced him and his hard life with a drop of your soothing presence. The moment you showed him some kindness, even unintentionally, he's ready to carve his heart out of his chest and be at your every beck and call.

Although he is no knight by no means, definitely lacking those virtues, he's skilled within his field of work. It means that whoever dares to bother you (even if they don't) or worse, taint you (start courting you) is automatically a threat he needs to eliminate. Just like 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 does to his prey, he'll haunt them deep in the great forest by shooting arrows at their running form. But unlike his usual ethics to make it as painless as possible to the animals, he’ll deliberately make sure to make this person suffer as much as possible. He's ruthless. 

Don't be surprised when you'll find some ‘gifts’ from him. He's a man of a few words, not a drop of romance and hardened by life. Plus his yandere tendencies. So 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐧 gifts tend to be…disturbing. More often than not, you'll find already prepared quarries of his. You get furs, meat and even polished antlers/horns to hand in your chambers. 

Of course, he'll remain anonymous through this whole time, because he doesn't feel worthy enough to officially make contact with you. 

In the dark of the night, when he lays in his cot, he'll pray to you. That you'll allow him, a sinner, to be by your side. He doesn't dare (but secretly wishes) to be your lover, perhaps even your...husband? Whatever you'll pick, he'll agree on anything. He's that desperate for you.

One day…one day he'll overcome his insecurities and will speak to you…

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 who is a lovesick puppy, ready to marry you right then and there when his eyes fell on you for the first time. He's hopeless, really. 

He's always there when you're out of the castle. Lurking just around the corner, ready to start luring you into coming with him. At first, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 offers are subtle but slowly and surely, they become bold. From promises to give you safety, stable life to making you his Queen and offering to conquer the Queendom as a wedding gift from him to you. He doesn't understand why you wouldn't want to come with him. He's the crown prince, only heir to a prosperous kingdom and a future king, ready to shower you in gold, gifts and power before you could even think of it.

He's a gifted singer and poet. He'll use that to his advantage to catch your attention, especially when you're in the castle where 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐧 obviously can't go. If it's possible, he'll stop his horse just under your window, hop down and that's when the performance starts. He'll sing ballads about your beauty, recites all sorts of poetry also related to love, sometimes even pray for you to come and grace him with your presence. His words are easily pouring out of his mouth in abundance. They're all about how he deeply feels towards you or about you. And he sincerely hopes they'll trap your heart.

In the dark of the night, he'll look at the portrait of you he had commissioned shortly after meeting you. Of course it didn't do your justice at all but it was just to pass the time until he'll have the real you by his side. He'll sigh dreamily at the canvas, whispering words of pure adoration for you.

His patience is running thin and the wedding day is nearing so fast...!

✿ BONUS ✿

𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐟𝐬 [platonic] who are fiercely overprotective of you. They are greedy and dangerous beings by nature. They’ve killed before and they have no problem doing that again. Especially when some pathetic excuse of a pests seemed to be lurking around their hut, where they were keeping you locked in. There are seven of them, ripped with muscles because of a daily work in the mines and without any remorse in them. The opponent stands no chance. 

All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.

[simmerkate]

Xtra Interactions | Cupids Calling Add-on Mod (FREE)

Welcome to "Cupid's Calling," the enchanting Valentine's add-on mod for "Xtra Interactions" that brings a touch of romance and passion to your Sims' lives! Delve into a world of heartfelt connections and intimate moments as you explore a variety of social interactions and buffs designed to ignite the flames of love and companionship.

Heart-to-Heart Talk: Engage in deep conversations that foster a "Heartfelt Connection" or risk the pain of "Heartache" if things don't go as planned.

Love Language Discussion: Discover your partner's love language and bask in the "Love Language Understanding," but beware of the frustration of "Miscommunication Frustration."

Promises and Commitments: Embrace "Committed Devotion" as you make promises, but be wary of the fallout from "Broken Promises."

Secret Love Letter: Experience the thrill of being a "Secret Admirer" or face the awkwardness of leaving someone "Weirded Out."

Talk about Fantasies: Explore "Fantasy Fulfillment" together or risk feeling "Vanilla" in your relationship.

Talk about Fairy Tale Endings: Dream of "Fairy Tale Dreams" or face the reality of feeling "Tied Down."

Discuss Spirit Animals: Find "Spiritual Harmony" or navigate through "Spiritual Discord" in your relationship.

Discuss Soul Mates: Affirm your bond as "Soul Mates" or confront the doubt of being unsure about your connection.

Whispered Desires: Unleash your desires and revel in the passion of "Desire Unleashed" or face the discomfort of "Ick!"

Naughty Pillow Talk: Connect intimately with "Naughty Pillow Talk" or deal with the aftermath of a "Headache."

Passionate Goodnight Kiss: End your day with "Goodnight Bliss" or experience the sting of being "Ignored."

And don't miss out on the highlight of the season: the Valentine's Ball! Host a romantic gathering, complete challenges, and strive for gold, silver, or bronze status as you create unforgettable memories filled with music, dancing, and heartfelt moments.

Get ready to embark on a journey of love and romance like never before with "Cupid's Calling." It's time to celebrate love in all its forms and create lasting memories with your beloved Sims!

This is a standalone add-on, you don't need Xtra Interactions but it adds to the gameplay.

 Xtra Interactions v2 is available for early release right now here (xx)

 but you can still get the v1 for free on Curseforge (xx)

Follow me on insta @SimmerKatex

Download The FREE add-on from Curseforge (xx)

[solisaureus]

Everything I Hate About Rick Riordan's Interpretation of the Hunters of Artemis

I believe that Rick Riordan has good intentions and that he has done a lot to promote inclusivity in YA fantasy, both at a fictional representation level and at a level of authorial diversity. However, he has fumbled the ball numerous times in his writing, and my biggest complaint against him is his handling of the Hunters of Artemis. So I wrote an essay on everything I hate about it.

Part I: Mythological context

Artemis is the ancient Greek goddess of the hunt, nature, unwed maidens, animals, archery, childbirth, and other domains. She is known for keeping a company of nymphs and inhabiting the wilderness with them, giving rise to Riordan’s concept of the Hunters of Artemis.

Artemis is also famous for being a virgin goddess, vowing never to marry. The concepts of virginity and marriage in ancient times and the understanding we have of them today are quite different. Here is an excerpt describing Artemis (and Athena’s) status as virgin goddesses from Goddesses, Whores, Wives, and Slaves: Women in Classical Antiquity by Sarah Pomeroy:

“The Artemis of classical Greece probably evolved from the concept of a primitive mother goddess, and both she and her sister Athena were considered virgins because they had never submitted to a monogamous marriage. Rather, as befits mother goddesses, they had enjoyed many consorts. Their failure to marry, however, was misinterpreted as virginity by succeeding generations of men who connected loss of virginity only with conventional marriage. Either way, as mother goddess or as virgin, Artemis retains control over herself; her lack of permanent connection to a male figure in a monogamous relationship is the keystone of her independence.”

Note how this differs from modern Western concepts of marriage and virginity. Marriage, for a woman of antiquity, means a monogamous, submissive union with a man. A virgin, in the context of Artemis and her Hunters, is an unmarried, independent woman, not a woman who does not desire sex or romantic love. It is likely that Riordan, as a classics scholar, knows this.

Artemis was known to keep companions in the myths, both men and women. Orion is the most famous male companion of Artemis, and in some iterations of the myth he is a lover of Artemis. Another notable figure is the nymph Callisto, who was exiled from the Hunters after Zeus raped and impregnated her in Hesiod’s Astronomia. (According to Hyginus’s recounting of this story, Zeus seduced Callisto by disguising himself as Artemis, insinuating that Callisto and Artemis had been lovers). I assume this is where Riordan got the idea that becoming “smitten with boys” (The Titan’s Curse, p. 38) gets you kicked out of the Hunters.

Another known devotee to Artemis was Hippolytus. In the play Hippolytus by Euripides, the eponymous character (the son of Theseus with the Amazon Hippolyta), was enamored with the hunt and had no desire for marriage, worshipping Artemis as his patron. His disinterest in romance offended Aphrodite, and she cursed Theseus’s wife Phaedra to fall in love with Hippolytus. The rest of the play does not end well for either of them, but the important thing is that ancient Greek plays did acknowledge unmarried male devotees of Artemis. This, combined with the myth of Orion, confounds Riordan’s choice to interpret the Hunters as exclusively female.

Part II: Feminist separatism

So, given the existence of Orion and Hippolytus, where does the anti-men thing come from? One possible explanation is the story of Actaeon, who spied on Artemis while she was bathing, and was harshly punished for his indecency when Artemis transformed him into a deer and set his hunting dogs on him. But mythologically, the Hunters were not exclusive to women, and in a modern context, I think Riordan’s interpretation of them as such is inappropriate and irresponsible.

In the 1970s, there was a movement to form communities of exclusively lesbians who seek to escape patriarchal society by forming insular colonies, known as lesbian separatism. On a surface level, it might seem empowering — many lesbians and other women seek to escape the male gaze and heteronormative expectations, and making their own exclusive all-female social communities may seem like a utopian escape. But this movement was notoriously transphobic, with these lesbian separatist communities explicitly rejecting transgender women and relying on gender bioessentialism to determine who was “really” a woman or a lesbian. It was gatekeeping in its most radical form (Separatism by Andrew Matzner).

So for Riordan’s Hunters to model feminist separatism (except with celibate women instead of lesbians) is a similar TERF trap. It is never clarified in canon whether the female requirement for membership includes either closeted or out transgender women, or if the Hunters expel transgender men who come out after joining the Hunters. Given that the Hunters — a community of people who seek to reject conventional patriarchal society — would likely appeal to queer people of all ages, genders, and sexual identities, why is it exclusive to adolescent celibate girls?

Part III: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell

In The Dark Prophecy, Riordan supplements the lore of his Hunters with a bombshell: female Hunters who fall in love with each other are expelled for breaking their oath of virginity. Emmie, who is Hemithea of ancient myth and had been a part of the Hunters for millennia, was excommunicated with her lover Jo, and they form a new life together in Indianapolis. This is described as a voluntary, heartwarming departure and a show of the two women’s commitment to each other.

The positive spin that Riordan puts on this story is shocking, considering the fact of the matter is that these characters were forced to choose between their family and their queer love. Losing one’s family, especially one that had been Emmie’s whole life for literal ages, as a result of coming out is a homophobic tragedy any way you look at it. How are we supposed to think positively of Artemis or the Hunters after seeing them cast out their own because of their lesbian relationship? Especially when LGBTQ homelessness as a result of this exact trauma is such a prominent problem?

Hell, in The Sun and the Star, Nico di Angelo expresses that his worst fear in coming out as gay was to be abandoned by his friends or ostracized by his community (p. 216, 219). Yet this is exactly what happened to Emmie and Jo when they came out in the Hunters. The fact that this outcome is acknowledged as terrifying and traumatic in The Sun and the Star makes it baffling that it’s framed as congenial and unavoidable in another Riordan book.

The fact that the Hunters are a militant force makes the expulsion of lesbians reminiscent of another notable LGBTQ rights issue: Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell (DADT). This American legislation, which was in effect from 1994 to 2011, prohibited openly gay, bisexual, or lesbian individuals from serving in the armed forces. It was acceptable to be closeted while serving, but disclosing one’s identity as lesbian, gay, or bisexual resulted in being discharged. The repeal of DADT in 2011 was seen as a major victory for LGBTQ rights in America…which makes it concerning that Riordan would implement the same policy for his fictional militia in a book that was published in 2017. And then portray it as positive and empowering.

Riordan doubling down on the “no romance allowed” aspect of his iteration of the Hunters by excluding lesbians from membership is a bizarre commitment to his misconstrued translation of the ancient Greek concept of virginity. Remember that Artemis’s vow of virginity was a commitment to independence and a rejection of marital submission to a man in a patriarchal society, not a condemnation of romance and sexuality. By this definition, virgins include lesbians, and it is ridiculous to construe two women’s romantic commitment to each other as violating the oath of virginity. Riordan’s choice to vilify lesbians in the Hunters was his choice, not an appropriate application of mythology. Considering that Artemis has been used as a relatable cultural icon for modern lesbians, this seems especially insidious.

Part IV: Asexual misrepresentation

Asexuality is a spectrum of queer identities which describe those that experience little to no sexual attraction to other people of any gender. Aromanticism is a related spectrum of queer identities entailing little to no romantic attraction or interest in other people of any gender. There is a very broad range of asexual and aromantic experiences, including those that overlap with other queer experiences, including lesbianism. Asexuality is not the same thing celibacy and aromanticism is not the same thing as being single. Rick Riordan does not seem to grasp this, construing his anti-romance portrayal of the Hunters as a haven for aromantic and/or asexual girls such as Reyna Avila Ramírez-Arellano.

While a community like the Hunters, with its emphasis on rejecting patriarchal, heteronormative standards, would certainly appeal to many aromantic and/or asexual individuals (as well as most other queer people), there are several issues with conflating the lifestyle of Riordan’s Hunters with asexuality/aromanticism.

First, the Hunters in this setting are exclusively young girls, with the oldest being Thalia Grace, who is 15. Feeding into the stereotype that asexual/aromantic people are immature and childish is hardly positive representation. Second, requisite celibacy is not the same thing as natural asexuality. In fact, I find the whole enforced celibacy, anti-romance thing weirdly Catholic and repressive for a group of people devoted to a Pagan goddess of nature and unconventional independence.

I will iterate it again, this is a reductive, ill-fitting application of the ancient concept of virginity that is associated with Artemis. It is valid for modern asexuals and aromantics to admire and relate to the mythology of Artemis, but Riordan’s misapplication of this association does a disservice to asexuals, aromantics, and queer community as a whole. Riordan’s Hunters feed the harmful, incorrect stereotype that asexuals and aromantics look down on all forms of romantic/sexual love (including queer love) and see themselves as superior to the culture of love and sex. This is not positive aromantic/asexual representation.

Part V: Alternative interpretations

With all of this said, the Hunters serve an important narrative role in Riordan’s stories and a lot of potential as an alternative life path for demigods. Abolishing the Hunters would do the story and its setting a disservice; but I believe they should’ve been written very differently.

The Hunters should maintain their core purpose of an uprooted existence, rejecting conventional society to connect with nature. They should provide community for those who are not served by the heteronormative, cisnormative patriarchy. This would include people of all ages, genders, and romantic/sexual identities. There should be an emphasis on solidarity among marginalized sexual and gender identities instead of overt hostility and gatekeeping.

Members of the Hunters should be discharged only when they decide to rejoin mainstream society or settle down with a lifestyle that is incompatible with the aforementioned purpose of the Hunters. I believe this structure would be far more empowering and liberating than what Riordan has envisioned.

[kifkay]

Winx and their Favourite Literary Tropes

Bloom: Found Family. The girl is queer, most likely a fan fiction enjoyer, if not a writer, and has been bullied. She is THE target demographic for this trope.

(plus, she literally went on and created her very own family of Winx)

Musa: Other than the very obvious choice of Your Crush is Mean to Everyone but You (ahem, ahem, Riven), Musa would love the Soulmates trope. It’s very comforting, to believe that there exists a person cosmically tied to you — someone who will have to love you, in spite of your flaws and hurts. Belong to you fully.

Aisha: although Aisha is usually a very calm and compassionate person, I think she would find Revenge narratives cathartic. Let the girlie read about a vengeful princess cutting down her past abusers, she deserves it!

Stella: definitely a romance girlie. I could see her either obsessing over a litany of romantic cliches (Prince in Shining Armour, only One Bed, nursing each other’s wounds (but only in theory, blood is disgusting), forced proximity, enemies to lovers, etc) OR hating them all due to how predictable they are. BUT she would definitely despise any toxic romance tropes Musa seems to love: the Mafia ones, the sunshine x grumpy, the “he’s cold but actually cares”. If both people are not whole-heartedly into each other, she’s not into it.

Flora: she is definitely a fantasy girlie (what is even fantasy for the society of Magix?). Particularly, she loves world-building and lore, brimming with their own unique biomes and freaky little creatures. She also likes Anti-Heroes or Misunderstood Villains. They play on all of her emotional strings.

Tecna: contrary to what you may expect, I don’t think Tecna would like sci-fi very much. What is sci-fi to the majority of the universe, to Zenith is reality. She would most likely find fantastical elements of these books cheesy or over-the-top. Tecna would like Heists: dynamic, fast-paced, high stakes. Puzzle pieces coming together to form a brilliant plan, complete with witty banter and colourful characters.

(I also think she would like Dysfunctional Families. Her parents interacted with her only when necessary; she was an only child. She would be fascinated by messy and tragic interactions between people who should walk away, but just can’t part with each other.)

some other characters I thought of:

Roxy: Supernatural, Talking Animal Companion.

Brandon: Hopelessly Devoted, Mutual Pining, Martyr.

Sky: Reverse Damsel in Distress/Distressed Dude? (the heroine saves his captured ass; he’s into girls that can snap him in half).

Nabu: the Chosen One, the Robin Hood, switch-and-bait.

Helia: long journeys as metaphors for a soul search; tending to the other person’s wounds; cosmic or eldritch horror.

Riven: the Princess and the Peasant, Hero saves the Day, Grumpy Mentor who cares.

Timmy: the Headquarters, Secret World, outsmarting your enemies.

Mirta: a fellow enjoyer of Doomed by the narrative, bonus points if it’s sapphic.

[samuskitchen]

a hopeless romantic all my life.

⇒ osamu x hopeless romantic!reader

summary : struggling to find your true love, you decide to give up on searching for a relationship, turns out the phrase “love finds you when you aren’t looking.” has some merit to it.

warnings : none that i can tell!

genre : fluff , self indulgent asf, maybe a little tiny hint of hurt/comfort?

a/n : sick of men disappointing me, literally am never confessing to a guy ever again. WHY ARE THE MEN IN AUSTRALIA SO LAME WAAAAAAAA

w/c : 1.5k

you were first introduced to love through fairytales and fantasies at the age of five. by the age of 8 you believed you’d get your own fairytale love, you’d expressed your biggest dreams and wishes to the pearly white star in the sky. by the age of 13 you were determined to fall in love with your soulmate, full of hopes that he existed and was searching just as impatiently for you.

by the age of 19 you realised fairytales were a scam and that cupid would not be shooting you, or the stranger who offered his parking spot during your parallel parking struggles, with his blessed arrow of love. you’d done everything to make the process easier for that big-cheeked baby with the heart shaped bow. dating apps and school clubs, confessing to every guy you had feelings for, begging your friends to put in a good word with the cute guy in their class, yet nothing ever stuck.

so you gave up, if cupid wasn’t going to give you the romance anime love you craved so badly, you’d stop trying so hard. you resigned from putting any more time or effort into love, so sure that it wasn’t real and was not worth searching for.

and yet, here you are standing in front of the miya osamu, the cute chef in training at the restaurant owned by your uncle. so maybe the onigiri’s he’d given you during every visit were his way of expressing his affections for you, or maybe he genuinely needed someone to try out his recipes as he worked his way through his culinary course and his job at the ramen store. either way, your heart fluttered as he stared at you.

“i- uh…” your mouth opened and closed in shock, as you tried processing everything that just happened within the short span of five minutes.

8 year old yn would be kicking her feet in excitement, and 13 year old yn would be in awe that someone as handsome and as hardworking as osamu was interested in you. 18 year old yn would’ve been certain that you’d never see the day someone would turn the tables and confess to you instead.

“i’m sorry, it was all kind of sudden, i know. a-and i understand if you're off put by it or if you’re just not interested but-” he stopped his rambling as he noticed the wide grin slowly forming on your face, a bright and genuine smile that made his heart skip a beat and his face feel ten times hotter than it did a moment ago.

“‘samu, i’d love to get to know you better, maybe we could go on a date? when you’re free of course!”

“a date? a date! yes, okay— i’ll get back to you on when i’m free, could i- uh, get your number?”

and with that you secured a possible date with the boy who had been nothing more than your uncle’s apprentice. you made your way home with a satisfied smile on your face and a heart pumping loudly with the adrenaline that still courses through you. nothing could ruin your mood in that moment.

—

two weeks of radio silence from the man who confessed, two weeks of false hope and tears in your room, left to comfort and berate yourself all alone. you felt so stupid, to be crying over some guy who just happened to feed you the best onigiri and ramen you’d ever eaten and had made you feel so special, you just couldn’t convince yourself that he wasn’t worth your time or tears.

you avoided your uncle’s shop for a few weeks in hopes of avoiding samu in the process, however, after two more weeks of that, your luck had run out. your mother left you with the task of delivering the aprons she’d fixed up for the cozy little ramen store.

begrudgingly, you picked up the stack of folded aprons, holding them under your arm as you huffed and puffed all through your journey to the infamous shop.

from the outside, the place brought a great sense of comfort, a paper lantern to the right of the door that emitted a soft glow and warmth if you got close enough. the tiles to the roofing were a midnight grey and the two windows on the front of the shop had the curtains drawn halfway, still allowing you to see the orange glow of the interior lights. the smell of the freshly made ramen had you salivating, the strong smell of sesame oil or the sizzling of the meat being grilled had you reaching for the handle before you could second guess your decision.

“uncle! i brought your aprons—” the man on the other side of the door was, unfortunately, not your uncle. instead, samu stood over the grill with one hand on his hip, the other using a wooden paddle to push around the meat in front of him. samu glanced at the door before looking back down at the food.

“he isn’t here today, sprained his wrist this morning and asked me to watch over the store for the night.”

you blinked, once, twice before deflating. “oh… i’ll just leave the aprons in the back then…” awkwardly, you coughed before shuffling past him and the bar into the back room where the security and staff room was.

with a sigh you dropped the aprons on the cluttered table, not paying any mind to what it fell on or knocked over. what a dick you thought as you ruminate over the short interaction you just had with the main cause of all your dilemmas in the past two weeks. he barely even glanced at you!

you huffed, pouting as you pushed the door open, ready to just ignore his existence and scurry home as quickly as possible. but of course, the universe liked using you as its favourite punching bag, and so instead of sneaking your way out of the store that once brought you great comfort, you run straight into the sturdy and broad chest of the one and only osamu miya.

he stared down at you quietly, a furrow in his brows and his lips pursed. he stared deeply into your eyes with a mix of concern and frustration, he took a deep breath before he finally broke the staring battle.

“if you weren’t interested, you could’ve told me that day, you didn’t need to give me a fake number.” osamu’s voice was quiet, the disappointment and sadness seeping through his words.

you gaped up at him, the audacity of this man! he was the one who stood you up, and yet you’re being blamed?

“i messaged you everyday, miya. don’t act like i was the one who wasn’t interested, when you were the one who ignored me.”

“what? what are you talking about, you never messaged me!” he fished his phone out, opening up the messaging app and forcefully pushed his phone into your hands, the message thread between the two of you being left empty save for the few messages he had sent.

“…wait what?” you mumbled to yourself, pulling your own phone out to show him your own messages.

the two of you stared down at the screens in confusion, you opened the contact information for both of you, staring down at the numbers.

“this is your number right, osamu?” you held your phone up at him, while you looked down at his phone to confirm your number.

…confirm that it was in fact not the right number.

“osamu… why is my number wrong?” you look up at the man incredulously, as he reciprocated the look. “i could ask you the same thing.” he grumbled.

you both stood in silence for a few seconds before he let out a relieved laugh. hand wiping down his face as he walked backwards towards the cooking area. you followed quietly, mind reeling at the thought that this was most likely just a huge misunderstanding.

“i guess maybe in the excitement we both just mistyped the numbers? thank god, you almost broke my heart yn!”

your scoff was mixed with a laugh as you sat on the stool by the bar. “speak for yourself, i was crying for a good week, almost two.” you sheepishly rubbed your cheeks in hopes that your embarrassment would disappear.

the two of you talked as he worked throughout the night, ending it off with him walking you home and giving his actual number, double checking that it was right by calling him before he left. when you walked through the door of your house, you kicked off your shoes in the entrance in excitement, hopping up the short platform and sprinting to your room.

you dropped onto your bed with a squeal, feeling all the emotions of love and envy exploding within you like fireworks. you could feel your younger self applauding you for not messing things up and cheering you on as you worked towards accomplishing her dreams.

with a sigh you glanced outside the window, staring at the bright star in the night sky. “sorry for not believing in you, thanks for listening to my wishes…” you smiled softly before reaching for your phone, pulling open samu’s contact.

‘so, about that date. what about a trip to the aquarium?’

[queer-coded-tourney]

(submissions now closed) Do you have a blorbo that is definitely homo but never directly stated canon by the creators? Well your blorbo qualifies to possibly win this tournament! Submit your blorbo to the form below and vote for them when they're selected to be in a poll! (Please read rules before submitting a character) Btw! First character to be submitted will be the profile picture for this blog.

RULES:

-Only characters that are NOT canonnically lgbtqia+, they do not NEED to be implied as long as basically the entire fandom just agrees that they're gay, but implied gay characters have a better chance of being selected. (Example of implied gay characters: Ash and Eiji, two men, from Banana Fish are greatlt implied to love each other romantically but it is never directly stated if either of them like men.)

-No real people unless it's REALLY funny (example: Ben Shapiro)

-Only humans, no animals or machines (unless they're part animal or part machine, or part something else, as long as they're at least part human or some other fantasy species thats not a literal animal, its okay.)

-NO DSMP, DANGANRONPA, OR HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS, characters from literally anything else is fine.

-No characters under 14, characters with no canonnical age are fine unless they are very obviously children

HOW ITS GONNA GO:

Me, (Lucifer/Caspar, any pronouns, owner) and my friend Maxine (she/her, mod) will select 32 characters and round one will eliminate 16 characters, round two will eliminate 8, and so on. If two characters tie Max and I will be the ultimate tie breakers.

The person(s) who submitted the final winner will receive a shoutout of course!

Max and I have each submitted a character also, however we will not be stating which ones.

For any questions send an ask or dm my personal blog ( @heygirlareyouhungry )

inspired by @half-being-battle @throuple-tournament @best-transgender-character @who-do-i-know-this-man @i-do-know-this-man

also tagging @tournamentdirectory

[whumpsday]

3 whumpy anime to check out this spring!

Go Go Loser Ranger is a heroes vs. villains anime where the villains are the good guys and the heroes are downright evil. Having wiped out all the powerful monsters more than a decade ago, the heroes keep the weakest monsters captive, to parade around and torment on a weekly basis while the public believes otherwise. Because they're immortal when hit with most weapons, they'll always reform to be hurt over and over again, despite feeling all the pain.

Footsoldier D is one of those weak monsters, an immortal shapeshifter made of dust, called a "duster". After escaping the heroes' arena, he forms a plan to kill the heroes and steal the few weapons they have that can permanently kill dusters, freeing the rest of his kind. Given that he has the constitution of a porcelain doll, he can't use strength to fight: he has to rely on wits, stealth, shapeshifting (despite knowing very little about humans or the outside world), and a shaky alliance with a double-agent ranger who seems to be taking advantage of him for her own gain.

Whump tags: villain whumpee, hero whumper, immortal whumpee

Watch it on Hulu, Disney+, or any unofficial anime site.

And if you don't have time to check out a whole anime, the Go Go Loser Ranger opening theme video is also really good, with fantastic visuals symbolizing D's struggles!

An Archdemon's Dilemma is a romantic comedy stuffed to the brim with popular whump tropes. Zagan is a demonic sorcerer who attends an auction for the possessions of another recently-killed sorcerer, when he sees that one of those "possessions" is an elf slave, Nephelia. Having had a destitute, harsh past himself, he feels a rush of sympathy and buys her way out, vowing to ensure her safety. However, Nephelia is terrified, believing she's about to be used as a sacrifice in a dark magic ritual. And unfortunately for both of them, Zagan is a socially awkward loser who sucks at communicating.

It's surreal seeing something that looks like it could be a caretaker-new-master whump fic as an actual, fully-realized anime. It definitely doesn't take itself too seriously despite the premise, leaning heavily on the "comedy" part of romantic comedy, and is mostly just a silly time with lots of whump-adjacent stuff thrown in. Fanfic-y to the point of "there's only one bed" being an actual line.

Whump tags: fantasy slavery (very pet-whump-esque in its tropes), caretaker new master

Watch it on Crunchyroll or any unofficial anime site.

The Grimm Variations is an anthology of horror retellings of several Brothers Grimm fairy tales. With each episode being written and directed by different people, it varies wildly in quality, with episodes ranging from laughably bad to incredibly good, but I'm here to talk about episode 2: Little Red Riding Hood.

The Little Red Riding Hood takes place in a dystopian future where the upper and middle class use virtual reality technology to augment their reality. One man, Grey, is tired of this and craves the real: specifically, the feeling of real blood spraying him as he murders countless women, his wealth and connections protecting him from consequences. But when this serial killer makes the mistake of targeting a woman called Scarlet, he finds himself on the other side of the knife. This episode is a complete and utter gorefest with multiple onscreen torture scenes.

This isn't even my favorite episode of the series, it's like my 3rd favorite. But episode 2 is the one with the gruesome torture scene, so it's the one that goes in this post.

Little Red Riding Hood whump tags: whumper-turned-whumpee, torture, gore

Little Red Riding Hood warnings: sexual assault, eye gore, fingernail gore, violence against women, major character death

Watch it on Netflix or any unofficial anime site. Orrrr if you just wanna watch the big torture scene without any of the context, it's on Youtube.

that's all I have for now :)

(P.S: Dungeon Meshi, while not really whumpy as a whole, is also currently airing and very very good and I might write whump fanfic for it at some point in the near future. Netflix or any unofficial anime site.)

[siriusleee]

nowhere fast

there is a monster at the edge of the mountain that haunts the townfolk. ghost x reader | twisted fairytale au 5.7k | smut, kidnapping (sorta), dubcon, minors dni request a fic here a/n: while writing this I got an idea for another twisted fairytale. thank god I'm off work this week.

You don't believe the rest of the town folk when they whisper of the monster in the woods - a horrendous fiend that haunts the mountain's edge looms on the horizon, blocking out the sun during the winter months. The rumors had started a year ago, whispered in the local diner as hunters clutched their coffee cups. The tails of traps set to catch the men who travel too far when hunting doesn't turn you away from fantasies of roaming the mountain's edge, of pushing farther through the forest than anyone else in town has. Even your father's warnings that he wouldn't come to save you if you decided to do something reckless didn't push the thoughts out of your head. 

So when the leaves start to brown again, and the trees start showing their bare patches, you leave. In the middle of the night, you shoulder your backpack, your dad's pistol situated in the waistband of your jeans and a flashlight tucked into your back pocket. The sounds of your family sleeping, of your mother's soft snores, aren't enough to get you to turn back as you step out of your front door, locking it behind you against whatever phantoms travel the night. The air is crystalline around you; the dense forest floor muffles your footsteps as you walk. The sound of the forest fills the air, and wraps itself around you; in the distance, the mountain never grows closer as you head towards it. Behind you, the lights from town disappear between the pine boughs. 

It takes two days of walking, of sleeping in a thin blanket underneath pine trees, before you reach the first sign of someone living in the woods. You're exhausted, and there's a blister forming on the edge of your pinkie toe when you stumble across a felled tree. Hunger gnaws at you and for the first time you think about the life you left behind; you think of your mother's venison stew and thick bread served in the same bowls your grandmother saved during WWII. An axe, free of any rust, leans against a section of the log. You trace your fingers against the handle (is it a trick of your mind to feel the warmth on the wood or is it that someone just got done cutting tonight's firewood and they're only a little ways ahead of you in the forest?).

You think for a moment about shouldering the axe, about how it may come in useful later. But the press of your father's gun - the once cold metal warmed by its two days pressed against your skin - reminds you that whatever is in the forest: monster or bear, won't be stopped by the swing of an axe. And besides, how would explain to the owner that you stole their axe, stole their way of providing themselves warmth if it came down to it?

So you leave it, leaning against the fallen tree for whomever it belongs to, to find it again tomorrow. 

Dusk begins to fall when you see the smoke in the sky. It's almost romantic, the way the smoke curls, tendrils disseminating in the clouds. You imagine a quaint little cabin in the distance, the smoke curing from a squat chimney; imagine yourself stepping inside and being greeted by the warmth from the fire, cutting through the chill that's starting to take over. Distantly, thunder rolls, and the steel gray sky threatens a storm. You know that if you want a shelter for the night, you have to find the source of the wood smoke and hope that whoever is there is benevolent enough to let you sleep inside for the night. You think of the monster that haunts these woods (and what kind of monster would need a fire to keep it warm at night?) and wonder if this is it.

You press ahead, toward the smoke. Only a hundred yards have passed when the sound of a tree branch snapping makes you freeze. You've lived near the edge of the forest and hunted the animals with your father long enough to know that unless what dwells in the forest wants you to know it's there, you won't ever hear it. Whatever is behind you is bigger than you, and not scared that you know it's there. Adrenaline's sharp edge starts in your veins, and your hand twitches towards the handgun at the small of your back. You steady yourself with a deep breath and press on, trying to let whatever is behind you think that you don't know it's there - that you still believe you're all alone. That you aren't a danger to whatever it is. 

You barely make it ten feet before you're yanked to your back. The contents of your backpack and the gun dig painfully into your skin; you feel something cut through the thin flesh of your hip bones as you hit the ground. Your head is spared only by your hands that reach up instinctively, but it feels like every knuckle on your right hand is broken when it slams against the ground. Stunned, you lay there, prey with its belly exposed as your eyes water and distort everything in your vision. Something monstrously huge leans down over you, blocking out the last bit of sun that remains. You try to blink the monster into sharper vision, but can't. Fairytale visions of werewolves, blood dripping from their maws shiver through you.

A warmth presses down on your chest, keeping you pinned to the ground. Through the pain, you can feel it's a hand, large enough to cover you from sternum to throat. 

"What are you doing here?"

The monster speaks in a low growl, and you realize it's just a man pressing you into the dirt and leaves. He doesn't give you a chance to answer before he yanks you to your feet, the hand at your chest gripping your jacket enough that you can feel the strings in the collar popping underneath the pressure he's putting on the fabric. 

Your feet dangle, your toes barely touching the ground as he shakes you (you want to tell him to stop, the pain in your head is enough). You grab his wrist, pulling him away from you. To your surprise, he recoils at your grip, dropping you to the dirt again. You land, for the second time, painfully in the dirt. This time you have enough wits about you to pull the pistol from your waistband, to raise it towards him as you stand. 

And the man just stands there, hands lose at his side. He towers over you, large enough that you have to look up at him, to take him in. Your hand doesn't shake against the trigger fingers as you take him in - dark jeans and scuffed boots, black shirt, and balaclava. The faded white outline of a skull covers the mask; in normal circumstances, you might think to laugh at it, but here in these strange woods you feel a tinge of fear for the first time, for the first time thinking back on the monster stories the locals would sit around and tell each other around night fires. You can imagine the white of that skull shining through the moonlight, around the curve of a trunk, and how terrifying that might be.

"I asked you a question," he growls out; the sweat on your palms makes the gun slip, just incrementally, on your hand.

"I'm the one holding the gun." Your voice sounds unnatural and weak after not speaking for two days. 

"If you were going to shoot me you would have done it already."

You hope he doesn't register the look on your face - the one that says he's right; you don't have any intention of shooting him as long as he just stands there. You never even had the stomach to shoot deer with your father when it came time to put food on your family's table. 

"I just came for a walk in the woods; nothing illegal about that."

He still doesn't speak. Your shoulder throbs from where you hit the ground; the gun falls just an inch. You half expect him to take advantage of this, to rush you and wrap his fingers around your throat until you're nothing but a half-memory in his mind, but he stays where he is at.

"I don't see how it's any of your business anyway."

"You're on my land."

"No one owns this land."

"I do."

Your arm falls another inch. This time, he pounces. One of his hands wraps around your wrist, pulling it to the side enough that you lose your grip on the gun. The other holds your shoulder - more gently than you could have imagined a mountain of a man to hold anything. 

The gun hits the forest floor silently. You bite the inside of your cheek to keep from making a noise, to keep from letting him know that he's hurting you; the taste of iron coats your tongue. Up close you can make out every blonde eyelash of his, make out all the gold flecks in his iris. His breath is warm through the balaclava; he smells like woodsmoke and vaguely vanilla. 

"I don't think you came out here for a little walk, love."

The first raindrop falls between you two, crashing against the earth with a force that nearly knocks you over. Your skin burns you where he touches, the callouses on his hands rough against the sensitive skin of your wrist. 

Another drop falls, this time landing on his fingers. You watch it roll to his wrist, to the sliver of tattoo-covered skin that you can see as the sleeve of his shirt pulls away. The thought to reach out and trace the path of the raindrops with your tongue flashes in your mind; you feel yourself smile slightly and try to repress the feeling. The corners of his eye crinkle, you know he's frowning at you, eyebrows knitted together as he tries to figure out why you're here. 

Without speaking, the man pushes you forward; in your peripheral you see him bend down and pick your father's gun up before tucking it into his own waistband. You think about how angry your father would be at him touching your father's gun, at touching you - someone other than him, some other man, touching something of his. You're not sure if the shiver that runs down your spine is from the thought or from the biting cold air that blows through, bringing more raindrops with it. 

You walk towards the smoke in the distance, the man's hand pressed into your shoulder, forcing you to walk faster than usual.

"What's your name?"

"Why?"

"Well, I should know the name of my kidnapper and potential murderer."

He lets out a sound that lets you know he doesn't appreciate your description, but he doesn't dispute it. He doesn't speak again until you stumble over a root, and his hand is at your elbow to straighten you up and force you to keep walking. 

"It's Ghost."

The cabin is nothing like you expected it to be. It's not even really a cabin - more of an abandoned witches' house, ivy trellising up one side and wrapping around the chimney. It could have once been described as Victorian, but now you're not sure if that description would do it any justice. It's two stories, bigger than what you'd expected it to be here in the forest. A dog with thick brown and black fur is curled up beside the front door; its ears perk when it spots you and Ghost but doesn't move towards you.

When you pass by, however, the dog reaches out to sniff you, his tail wagging. Ghost reaches out with his free hand to pet the dog once before reaching around you to open the door, his back pressing against yours for just a moment.

The rain falls harder against the two of you as he pushes you inside, the door falling shut behind him heavily. You listen for the sound of a lock shutting but don't hear one. The dog shakes the water out of its fur before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer, disappearing down the hallway. 

You watch Ghost as he pulls his boots off; you follow suit, kicking yours off. Your feet throb, the pain of non-stop walking for two days finally catching up to you. You're barely able to catch your balance before Ghost's hands are at the straps of your backpack, pulling it off of your shoulders and dumping it to the ground beside your shoes. 

With one hand presses firmly into your back, he leads you down the hallway, pointing out each part of the house you might need. 

"Why are you showing me around, what if I want to leave?"

"You can leave whenever you want. But you can't go back to the town."

There's nowhere else for you to go (he must know this). The thought should chill you, but it doesn't. Ghost stops outside of a heavy oaken door, his hand pausing on the doorknob before pushing the door open.

"You can sleep down here."

You take in the room - dust-covered but clean. The bed is massive, and covered in more pillows than you think you've ever seen in your life. the air inside is stale, you know that no one has touched anything in this room for years. 

"Where do you sleep?" You've asked the question before you even mean to. The hand on your back curls just enough that you can feel the bite of Ghost's nails in your back. 

"I sleep up the stairs. You can go anywhere you want in the house, just not upstairs. Do you understand me?"

The nails in your back threaten to break through your skin; you're not afraid, but you know that Ghost hasn't shown you half of the strength he does have, and that does scare you. You nod, silently; Ghost's hand leaves your back, leaving an emptiness in its place. 

It rains for days - a torrential downfall that washes down the mountain; Ghost lingers around the house, and the two of you circle each other - planets with opposing orbits. On the third day, you find the library tucked away in the back corner of the house. It's attached to an empty solarium, the glass washed clean from the rain outside. 

That day, when Ghost comes to find you to tell you that he's finished cooking he finds you on your hands and knees, scrubbing the dirt and dust away from the mosaic tiles with cleaning supplies you'd found tucked away in an unused backroom.

"What are you doing?" He asks, leaning against the doorway. Riley, always stuck to Ghost, sits at his feet. 

You don't look up at him as you speak, sweat dripping down your forehead. You watch your hands swirl across the tile, releasing the years-old dirt from the grout.

"I figured if I'm trapped here, I might as well put myself to work."

"Who said you're trapped here?"

You can barely hear Ghost over the rain on the solarium walls. Leaning back on your heels, you wipe your forehead on your shirt, trying to think about what to say to him. You choose your words carefully, chewing on them until they feel right.

"You would really let me leave?"

It's Ghost's turn to think about his words; you can feel his eyes boring a hole in your back. 

"No."

You don't say anything else to him as you turn back towards the floor. 

"Don't you think your family will come looking for you?"

"Probably. But they won't go any farther than the forest edge. They're terrified of the monster that lives here."

"And you're not."

"Not yet."

When the rain finally stops, Ghost disappears. He leaves Riley with a stern warning to guard the house before disappearing into the woods. You watch him leave from the kitchen window. The thought that you could escape teases you. It wouldn't be hard, you just needed to run down the mountain faster than he could realize you were gone. 

You leave that thought at the window. The lights flicker above you; Ghost had briefly explained about the solar panels at the backside of the cabin and you wonder if he installed them himself. The cabinets are nearly bare, but there's evidence that he leaves sometimes: name-brand can goods and a sack of bread flour. You wonder if you had ever walked by him in town, his mask off, and you never realized. The thought thrills you, that he could have been hiding in plain sight from the same people who whispered fearfully of him.

When he comes back, it's to the smell of fresh bread. The kitchen is clean, cleaner than he'd ever seen it; he watches as you turn the bread out of a pan and wrap it in a clean town. On the stove, a pot sits, something simmering inside. 

"What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

You can tell by the set of his shoulders that he doesn't like that - doesn't like the sarcasm that rolls easily from your lips. You turn to stir the stew on the stove, waiting on Ghost to say something, anything to fill the silence in the kitchen.

"Why are you cooking?"

"Because you're keeping me here captive for free. I figured it would nice for me to do something for you."

"You don't live here."

You know what he really means is that you don't need to make yourself comfortable - don't need to pretend that this arrangement is domestic.

***

You want him to hear you when you're curled up in your bed. You left the door open intentionally - an invitation if he would take it. Your fingers dip into your own cunt, pumping at a pace that is barely enough to satisfy you.

You hear the sound of the floor outside your door creaking; you can imagine Ghost out there, cock in hand, stroking himself at the sounds of you finger fucking yourself. Your breath catches in your throat when you moan out his name, face pressed against a pillow as you bite down on it, imagining if it was him.

The floor creaks again, and for a moment you think you see the curve of his shoulder in the doorway. You pull your hands out of your panties; lick the taste of yourself off of your fingertips. The shape of him is gone from the doorway in a flash. You fall onto your back, breathless from your orgasm. 

Heavy footfall on the stairs is heard from the hallway, followed quickly by the sound of a door shutting.

The weather turns for the worse as the weeks pass. The morning you awake to the first layer of snow on the ground, a letter is left on the counter beside the coffee pot. 

Gone to get winter supplies.

You're alone. Again. Riley pads into the kitchen lost without Ghost. He follows you across the house, nearly tripping you pressing himself so close to your feet. You intend to work on the solarium again - the weeks had seen you turning it into some recognition of its former glory- but you pause at the bottom of the stairs. An intense curiosity overtakes you - you want to go upstairs, to see what Ghost is hiding there from you. Your foot lands on the bottom of the staircase, when the sound of a car door slamming shut pulls you out of your thoughts. 

Your heart crashes in your chest, thinking of all the people who could have stumbled across the house, who could be forcing you back home. You press yourself into the banister, one hand outreach to bury itself in Riley's fur when Ghost steps through the door. 

Instant relief washes over you as his figure blocks the doorway. For a moment, you think about rushing towards him. He leans forward to place the grocery bags in his hands on the ground; you can see his eyebrows knitted together even through the balaclava. 

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

You worry that you speak too quickly, too suspiciously. You worry that he can read your thoughts, read how you almost betrayed him. So you press towards him, coffee cup landing on a small table right inside the doorway, trying to move the conversation away from your almost betrayal.

"Do you need help carrying everything in?"

"No."

But you want to help, want to get your mind off the thought of upstairs. You ignore him, and step outside, shivering in the cold air. An old truck you've never seen before is backed nearly up to the door, the back loaded down with supplies. 

"Is this all for the winter?"

"Once the snow starts falling we won't be able to get down until it thaws again."

It's all the explanation you need, but a new question erupts from you before you can stop it.

"How many winters have you had up here?"

"Enough."

The snow is thick when you've finally finished the solarium. Without you asking him to, Ghost dragged your bed to the room, followed by the dresser full of someone else's clothing that you've been wearing. It's where he finds you when he comes looking, curled up on a loveseat you'd found in an empty room in front of the fireplace. 

"Yes?"

You speak without your eyes ever leaving the book in your hands. You hear Ghost shuffle in the doorway. 

"Can I come sit with you?"

Without speaking you pull yourself in tighter, making room for him on the other side of the loveseat. He shuffles into the room, sitting down gently near your feet. He doesn't speak to you as you flip the pages. 

"What are you reading?"

"Bulfinch's Mythology."

"What is that?"

The question makes you smile, and for the first time since he'd walked in, you pull your eyes away from the book. Ghost isn't looking at you - he's focused intently on the flames dancing in the fireplace. He's tense, wound tightly enough you can almost see his muscles tense underneath his shirt.

"It's a translation of Greek mythology. It's your book, you don't know it?"

"I bought the house with everything in it."

"So none of this is really yours?"

Ghost doesn't answer, his hands are fisted tightly on his thighs. You know you're pushing it, asking him too much about his past. You shift, pressing your toes into the seam on his thighs, feeling his warmth through the denim. 

"How about I just read to you? Do you know the story of Cupid and Psyche?"

Ghost's only answer is a shake of his head. You flip through the pages, looking for the page you want. When you read, Ghost doesn't speak. His hands loosen, the one closest to you dropping onto your ankle. When you feel his touch against your skin, you stumble over your words. 

His touch makes you bold; you shift, never pausing your reading, to sit up and slide one foot onto his lap. His hand follows your ankle; when you've moved too close, his grip on your ankle tightens you, telling you that you've gone too far, too fast. 

You read over the soft sounds of snow falling on the glass, of the crackle of the logs in the fireplace. Softly, Ghost begins to draw patterns on the top of your foot. The feeling of his touch is starting to wind something inside of you. When you finish, you let the book fall closed in your lap and turn your attention to Ghost. He speaks quietly, barely louder than the ambient noise around the two of you.

"So she still loved him? After all of that?"

"Yes, after all of that."

Ghost's nails dig gently suddenly into the soft skin on the underside of your ankle. You can tell he's struggling to say what he wants, his mouth opening and closing beneath the balaclava before he finally speaks, his words desperate. 

"Would you still love him after everything?"

His voice is tight, his nails dig harder into your skin. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat, can feel the tension in the air. 

"What if I said no?"

Ghost's hand twitches against your skin, his grip suddenly painful. But still, he keeps his eyes trained on the fireplace, never looking towards you. 

"I suppose you would have to find your way home."

You let the book slide off of your lap and drop heavily to the floor. The fluttering in your stomach quickens at the heaviness that hangs over the two of you. When you speak again, your voice cracks - Ghost finally looks at you, eyes dark and burning.

"Of course, I would still love him after all of that."

Ghost nails disappear from your ankle; his hand slides up to your thigh before pulling you closer. You lose your balance, you fall back and before you can pull yourself back into a sitting position, Ghost is pressing his hand onto your abdomen, pressing you into the soft cushions. He slides one of his knees in between your thighs and presses it against the seam of your shorts. Your cunt throbs at the feeling; you whine, but keep your hands down at your side, worried that if you touch him, he'll run. 

"Do you want to stay here? With me?" He whispers, not lowering himself down onto you like you want him to. 

His warmth feels like it's drowning you; you squirm trying to rub yourself against his thigh- Ghost pulls away just enough that you can't reach him. He doesn't have to say what he wants, you already know it without him saying anything. 

"Of course, I want to stay here. With you."

You know it's not a lie when you say it; you hadn't thought of going home since you'd first stepped foot into the forest. And now, with Ghost pressing himself against you, you can't imagine leaving this place, leaving Ghost behind to go back to your family, back to everything you once knew. 

His knee presses harder onto your cunt and you grind down, trying to find some release. His hands' hook on the edge of your shorts, pulling them down, past your knees until you can kick them off. Your hands search for skin, dipping underneath his shirt. You dig your nails into his back as he trails his nails up your thigh, the feeling sending a shiver through you. He wraps one hand around your knee, hitching it around his waist until he's pressed against you. You can feel his erection through his jeans. He grinds into you, the rough denim rubbing against the soft fabric of your panties.

"Please." You don't know what you're begging for, just some sort of release from the tension inside of you. Maybe for him to touch you more, maybe for him to grind into you again.

Ghost presses his lips to your neck, the fabric of the balaclava warm against your skin. His hand sneaks between the two of you, fingers teasing your clit through your panties. You pull him closer, trying to press yourself into him, press his fingers into you. He keeps himself pulled back away from you, not letting himself sink into you.

"Why did you come here?"

He whispers in your ear, fingers pulling away from your clit when you don't answer. You try to find his hand and put it back, but he pushes you back down, a promise he won't do anything until you speak.

"I wanted to- to see if the rumors were true. I wanted to see if you were the monster everyone said you were."

You can feel the hint of a smile against your neck before he speaks again.

"Is that it?"

"I wanted," you swallow around the words, trying to pick which ones to use, "I wanted to get away from home."

His fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, teasing you. 

"Am I the monster you were expecting to find?"

You shake your head, burying your face in his chest and bite down on the moan that escapes you.

"Are you going to leave me when the snow thaws? You can if you want. I won't stop you." His voice is rough, almost tired. You hear a hint of sadness as if he already knows you're going to say yes, that you're already planning your escape.

You shake your head; his fingers start to pull away from you when you realize what he wants from you.

"No; never."

That's enough for him. He buries two fingers inside of you; you hiss at the sting, but it quickly turns into a moan when he pumps his fingers inside of you. You're not wet enough to take him, but you know that you will be in just a moment.

"Close your eyes."

You do as you're told, and you feel his lips press against your collarbone through your shirt. You turn, seeking his lips, eyes still pressed tightly closed. Ghost knows what you want, you can feel his nose trailing up your neck, the feeling of the balaclava pushed up around his nose. 

"You won't look?" He whispers against your lips, and you nod.

"I promise."

When he kisses you, you taste the coffee from earlier; his canines snag against your bottom lip as he pulls away to breathe. His fingers inside of you are working you into a release, faster than you've ever reached on your own. When it crashes into you, you cry out; Ghost whispers soft soothings to you, his free hand pushing your hair out of your face gently before fisting it to pull your head back and expose your neck just quick enough for him to press a kiss to your jugular. 

He disappears for a moment; you want to look at him, to watch him as the sound of his belt coming undone and falling against the floor reaches you, but you don't want to betray his trust, don't want to do anything until he tells you to. His hands are gentle on you as he rolls you over onto your stomach, pressing your face gently into the cushions so you can't see him. His hands trace the valleys of your body before he pulls your panties down to your knees, forcing them together. 

His fingers dip into your cunt before pulling away quickly; you hear the sound of him licking the taste of you off before his wet fingers fall on your ass, tracing patterns into your skin.

His hands grip your hips, pulling them up so he can place his cock between your folds. He doesn't push into you until you push backward, your hand between your thighs trying to guide him in. 

You moan when he presses his cock into you, the sound muffled by the cushion. He's larger - larger than anything - anyone - you've ever taken before. The feeling of being so full of him, so stretched out by him twists you and pushes you towards an ecstasy that you've never felt before. You mewl for him, pressing back into him as much as you can.

He's quiet, the only sign he's enjoying this is his bruising grip on you. He's soft at first, and you beg him for more with each stroke, but he ignores you. You can feel him holding back, feel that there are inches of cock still waiting for you to take it. You beg for more, beg for him to fuck you properly.

"Look at you, begging for the monster in the woods to fuck you harder."

On his last word, he slams into you; the pain of it makes you instinctually try to scramble away from him. He holds you, one hand at your hip and one at your shoulder, keeping you pinned to the couch. 

"You were just begging for this, remember? Don't run away now."

He fucks you with a brutal pace, hands not leaving you until he folds himself over you. One of his fingers traces a small circle around your clit as he bites into your shoulder. You cry out, hands gripping the cushions. 

"Ghost, I can't - I'm going to - fuck."

"That's it, baby - come on my cock like a good girl."

His words push you towards your orgasm, and when you crash again, he fucks you harder. You squirm underneath him, trying to get away, to get a break from his relentless pace - from this brutal fucking that you want more desperately than anything else in the world.

"Stop running."

His hand snakes under you, to grip your throat loosely. His chest presses against your back, his breath warm on your neck. You can feel another orgasm building up inside of you; you keen, pressing yourself into Ghost. You can't remember a time when anyone has ever fucked you this good - a time you've ever wanted someone the same way you want Ghost.

"I'm going to finish inside of you," he growls in your ear, movements bordering on erratic. "I'm going to make you mine."

You can't do anything but pant out a 'yes'. You feel it - the warmth when he finishes inside of you, but he doesn't stop pushing himself inside of you - he keeps fucking you, pushing his cum deeper into you until he finally stills. 

He stays on you for a breath before pushing himself up. You can't move, can't do anything but lay there and try to catch your breath. You feel him hook your fingers in the waistband of your panties once again, but this time he pulls them up, hand smoothing across your back. 

His hand traces the pattern of your spine before burying itself in the hair at the nape of your neck. You try to catch your breath under his touch.

"I meant it earlier when I said you can leave."

"I know," your say as you turn your face towards him, catching just a hint of the chin as he pulls his balaclava down. 

"I want to stay."

[esthermitchell-author]

My Addiction (Two-in-One)

For those of you who don't know me well (which is to say, most of you), there's a little detail I'm going to share... I am absolutely addicted to stuffed animals (plushies)!

They are, to this Crowley-coded girl, what Crowley's plants are to him (namely because yours truly has a black thumb with plants... I forget to water them! Bad me!). No, I don't bash them around, but they listen to me vent when I'm just too angry or upset to contain it, anymore. If the poor things could talk... Yikes! (which is another reason I have plushies... I don't trust people. Talking out my traumas and feelings regularly with people leaves me anxiety-riddled that they'll use said traumas/feelings against me... can we tell the trauma runs deep with this one?)

So, my point is...

A very dear moot who has asked to remain nameless, but who knows my addiction to plushies, and also my absolute feral brainrot for Good Omens, has gifted me....

Ta-dah! My very own plushie matched set - Crowley in snek form and Aziraphale! *squeeee* I am driving my roommate crazy squealing in delight! lol

And yes, as you might notice, they are in front of a map of the world. No, that was NOT deliberate... That's my plotting map for my writing (I write Paranormal/Fantasy Romantic Suspense set in the modern world... That map is marked like crazy...lol

[eternal-moss]

Thank you Ryoko Kui

I don’t think I’ve ever been so enthralled by any mangaka’s art so much before like Ryoko Kui. It’s so fundamentally attractive to me, I can’t stop gawking at it. The way she draws animals just exudes this feeling of deep love and appreciation, and the same goes for her human drawings too. Her niche stylistic choices are what I’ve been waiting for for years, I’ve been trying to draw better noses while staying simplistic/stylised and then Dungeon Meshi comes along.

I feel so inspired with my art, in a way that I haven’t felt in years, I just wish I could thank her in person. I haven’t been so inspired since like. Lauren Marx I think, and her drawings of animals in Sacred Decay. Love it so much, it really informed how I draw animals in my semi-realism style, and just creative inspiration too.

I’m nowhere near as good as these two, and I don’t think I can be without the serious dedication they have to art, but I don’t feel intimidated by their clear understanding of lining, form, atmosphere and colour, I just feel so pumped and excited. Look at what is possible with the human hand and heart!! I think I’ve spent too long in fandoms where everyone just draws thin pallid men making out with each other, I’m so damn tired of the same body types and tropes.

This! This is what makes me feel genuinely alive, and I’m not exaggerating. I haven’t drawn properly in so long, I feel like I was a withered plant that has finally, finally been watered lol.

I love the art of Dungeon Meshi, and the love that clearly is behind it, and drives both the art and story. I think the thing that made me want to write this post is this specific drawing that made me tear up a bit

Look at this!! Baby orcs have light stripes on their backs!!! Just like the natural phenomenon of forest dwelling animal young having dappled/striped backs, so that they can be less easily noticed by predators with light through the canopies. Ryoko Kui doesn’t just randomly implement design choices for her fantasy concepts but thinks them through.

Deer and wild boar have these features in real life, but as demi-humans, orcs also have culture surrounding this. How is it perceived in society? What sort of attitudes would this create? She’s clearly thought so in depth into so much of the world building and I love it so much. Orcs were originally surface dwelling beings, but were forced underground by other peoples, and this is shown by the fact that they still have this evolutionary trait!!

Anyway there’s so much more that I could say- about the story, themes of non romantic love and depiction of discrimination, and all the other countless things touched on through the characters. But oh my gosh. I love Dungeon Meshi!

[in-my-feels-probably]

Hii!! Could you write something about a Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader? The reader has no one until she meets Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra is lonely after her uncle left her and her father married Alicent. The reader is a shapeshifter (a bit of fantasy is fine), likes to transform into creatures or animals to get into trouble, and sometimes gets Rhaenyra involved. It could be romantic or platonic as you like. Make it super fluffy, please. Thanks in advance and sorry for the inconvenience ✨

Sweet Creature

Request: Hii!! Could you write something about a Rhaenyra x Fem!Reader? The reader has no one until she meets Rhaenyra and Rhaenyra is lonely after her uncle left her and her father married Alicent. The reader is a shapeshifter (a bit of fantasy is fine), likes to transform into creatures or animals to get into trouble, and sometimes gets Rhaenyra involved. It could be romantic or platonic as you like. Make it super fluffy, please.

Hi! No inconvenience at all, love. This is my first Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon imagine, and I think it might also be my first time writing for a female character, so I’m excited. This idea is adorable, thank you for requesting it, I hope you like it! I tried my best with the shapeshifter thing, I wasn’t sure exactly how to go about it. Let me know if you want anything changed.

(Warnings: i don’t think there are any, it’s just fluff, but let me know if i missed anything)

—

You let Rhaenyra chase you through the castle halls, listening to her giggle as you zipped around corners. To any of the guards standing by, the scene must have looked odd. 

The Princess, and heir to the Iron Throne, clumsily staggering through the corridors as she tried to catch a little tabby cat.

The only thing that would have given you away is your eyes, as they always glowed a bright yellow when you transformed into a cat. An easy thing to notice, but most people missed it, not knowing to even look for it in the first place. 

Rhaenyra, however, knew immediately. 

She spotted you outside of her door as you were sat at the feet of Ser Criston Cole, swatting at the bottom of his cloak. You had told him to act normal, not giving him time to respond before you swiftly changed forms. He wasn’t hiding his smile well, quite entertained by your antics. 

The castle, while some of its inhabitants rolled their eyes, seemed to rather like you and your mischievous spirit. It brought some light into their lives, and they adored the rare smile they’d catch on their Princess’s face when they’d find you around her, in whatever form she had requested you take. The King had told his guards to spread the word, that if an animal was seen within castle grounds, it was not to be harmed, and carefully inspected for its unnatural eyes, before a decision was to be made about it. It wasn’t often an animal of any kind managed to sneak in, and so people began assuming it was you, and they didn’t bother checking, just giving you a small smile, or the occasional shoo. 

Rhaenyra had come to love your abilities, fascinated by all the forms you could take, and all the people you could become. You preferred animals, as they were much easier to take the form of, and you knew she preferred them too. She spent many nights with you, curled up around whatever fluffy form she had requested. You had tried many forms.

She always said it was a comfort to her, and that you were more fun with fur, but on the nights that she was really just sad or lonely, and in need of someone, she didn’t ask you to transform. She’d just silently pull you into her room, letting you hold her throughout the night.

However, a tabby cat was something you hadn’t tried yet. When Rhaenyra stepped out her door to find you, happily lying on the floor and pawing at Ser Criston’s cloak, she immediately knew it was you. She always did. 

Ser Criston took one glance at her face, before leaning down towards you. “I suggest you run, My Lady.”

That was all you needed to hear, and you bolted, Rhaenyra hot on your heels. You could hear the amused laughter of Ser Criston, who was slowly following behind. You dashed under the feet of the people of the court as you made your way to the Godswood, not daring to turn around and face the Princess.

You had almost made it to the base of the great tree, with the plan to climb it, when you felt her familiar hands scoop you up, suspending you in the air. 

“I win!” Rhaenyra laughed, sitting on the ground and settling you in her lap. 

You gave her a nudge with your head, giving her a purr, before jumping off her and shifting back to your usual form. You stretched, raising your arms above your head, shaking the stray cat hairs off your dress. 

“So you did, Princess. It felt a bit unfair to me, though. Your legs were much longer than mine.”

She nodded, holding a hand out for you to steady yourself as you sat beside her. “Yes, but you had four legs. That’s double mine, now isn’t it?”

You rolled your eyes at her teasing, nodding. You pulled her shoulders down so that her head was resting in your lap, her hair sprawled across your lap. You absentmindedly played with it, staring down at her. 

She quirked a brow, rolling to face you. “What is it?”

You just shook your head, avoiding her gaze. You glanced up to see if you could spot Ser Criston, but he was far away at the front of the garden, giving you both your privacy. 

Rhaenyra was persistent, reaching a hand up to cup your jaw and bring your gaze to hers. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, hardening your stare. 

“It’s nothing that concerns you, Princess,” you smirked, bringing your head up away from her stare again, challenging her. 

She sat up, her face inches from yours. You held your breath, waiting for her next move. She waited a moment, before leaning a little closer. 

“Tell me.”

You cleared your throat, reaching a hand up to pull a stray leaf from her hair. “Is that a command, Princess?”

She smirked, narrowing her eyes. “And what if it was?”

You fought the warm feeling that had permanently settled itself in your stomach, which seemed to be there every time you were around Rhaenyra, but it was a fool's errand, trying to ignore it. 

“Then who am I to deny you?” You smiled, your gaze softening. You paused for a moment, before admitting it. “I was just thinking about how beautiful you are.”

She flushed, scoffing. “I thought you had something more interesting to divulge. Or at least something more true.”

“It is true, Rhaenyra. You’re beautiful. My pretty girl,” you affirmed, not daring to move any closer. 

She was always the bolder of the two of you, you had grown to notice. Still, in the weeks you had known her, you had found it very difficult to ignore her beauty and her charm. She carried herself with such resilience, it was hard to imagine why she wouldn’t be as confident in herself as you were sure she should be. 

It was quiet for a moment as she softly stared at you, lost in thought. She cleared her throat. “Ready?”

She changed the subject, and you didn’t push her, although you did notice the flush that refused to leave her cheeks. 

She was glowing. 

She stood up, offering you a hand. You took it, standing and brushing off your dress. She didn’t drop your hand, instead softly tugging you along to follow her. You let her, trying not to flush as well. 

Ser Criston wiggled his brows at you as the pair of you passed him, and you fought the urge to flip him off with your free hand. He resumed his slow trail behind you, and you turned your focus back to Rhaenyra. 

She was quiet on the way back, but she led you past her room, continuing to walk. 

She caught your confused face, and tightened her grip on your hand. “I’m not ready to go back yet. I want to stay with you a little while longer.”

You squeezed her hand. “Of course, Princess.”

You felt the breeze in your hair as you walked in comfortable silence, making your way through the castle. On your walk, you passed the Queen’s chambers, where you knew Alicent resided alone. You could hear little Aegon chattering, his Mother laughing in response. 

You felt Rhaenyra stiffen at the sound, and you suddenly took charge, now being the one to lead her. You walked down to the Dragon Pit, where Syrax resided, basking in the setting sun. You stopped and stood on a perch overlooking the pit, your hand still secured in hers. 

“Can you turn into a dragon?” She asked, her voice softer than usual.

You pondered the thought, turning to face her. “I suppose I could. I’ve never tried. It would take a lot of energy, I’d assume. Dragons are quite large, large animals are harder to take the shape of.”

She nodded, rubbing her thumb along the back of your hand. You sensed her reluctance and tried to ease her, continuing to speak.

“I wonder what color I would be. I don’t think I can control that. I’d want to be blue. Not a midnight blue, more like an icy blue…like your eyes.”

Rhaenyra let a small smile grace her face, and you considered it a victory, although she still didn't speak.

“Yes, I think blue would suit me. I’d match Syrax quite well. Who knows, maybe I’ll have to test the theory one day. I’d make a beautiful dragon,” you cheesed, listening to Syrax happily hum in the pit at the mention of her name. 

“You’d make a beautiful anything.”

You sharply turned to face her, eyes wide. Your voice came out much weaker than you wanted it to. 

“What?”

She grinned, amused by your reaction. “Are you the only one allowed to call someone beautiful and mean it?”

You didn’t know how to respond, sputtering out incoherent words until she finally saved you from the embarrassment, tugging you back towards her chambers. 

“Come along, love. We’ll test that dragon theory tomorrow, but it's getting late.”

You nodded. You could almost hear Ser Criston’s silent cheers as he trailed you, and you rolled your eyes, keeping your focus on the warm hand still in yours.

“What form would you like tonight, then?” You joked, nudging her shoulder. 

“Just you,” she said, keeping you close. “Just you.”

—

A/N - Hi! Hope you liked it, my requests are still open. I still have to fill a few more Stranger Things and Marauders era requests, but I can take more requests, either for this or for anyone else I write for. I’m sorry to anyone who has a request with me that I haven’t filled. I write when I have time and motivation, which makes me go out of order. I promise I’ll get to you, thank you for your patience.

[toffeelights]

falling into sonic again..

no i grew up watching those epic sprite animations and sonic final fantasies, sonic paradox even. The games I played were heroes and a few more like unleashed and mega collection and i adored black knights transformation sequence i would play it in the car repeatedly ( i never owned a wii). I watched all the sonic gameplay I could. My favourite characters being sonic and shadow. I, however grew up and believed sonic was not "famous" and was niche, jealous of the only sonic merch being the boys underwear in the superstore :(,

i didnt like boom or even lost world. it wasn't "sonic" to me, so i fell out, come forces and im burned, never touching this franchise again in my mid teens. I looked at how it was doing, would watch dubs and enjoy animations but eh that was it for me.

then.. comes 2023 and the thing that drags me back into this franchise, the thing that fucking pulls me in and keeps me buried... is those same two fucking hedgehogs but this time... their fucking ship. I suppose i can blame the art that took me here in the first place but holy shit. if you told me when i was 5 years old that i would come to adore sonadow and that would be the sole reason for my staying to the sonic franchise and all i would draw would be fucking sonadow, i would think you were fucking stupid and then go on word and make sonic comics of him running and pissing on eggman. no its the fucking fact, that now its come to a point where the dynamic of sonic and shadow genuinely have shifted my entire brain chemistry, they are everything, romantic subtext or not, they have literally shaped my interest for the past half year.

the fucking SYMBOLISM sega hints around them??!! them being stars, fated, destined to meet, mirror images, understanding eachother the most yet causing the most frustration. Sonic, is the one character that can get so, so personal to shadow, challenge him in a way and intrigue him in the most bizzarest of ways he never understands yet finds equal annoyance as much as admiration, sonic is a shift to his core. Shadow also does care quite a bit, just as much as he gets irritated at his presence, i find it funny how in sonic 06, the two characters saving sonic are amy and Fucking SHADOW the hedgehog. (albeit you dont see this alot erm due to segas insistence of making characters.. boring? but anyways)

their TRUST.. in eachother, the sonic x shadow generations descriptions do it so well (esp in jp).

in sa2 when they.. worked together for the first time in space and.. he called him the ultimate life form.. and sonic and shadow.. just in that moment.. were together as one. and oh man..

I could talk about prime but uh my favourite interactions in there are mostly when one of the other was uncouncious or in a state of unawareness (youd be suprised how much this happened). like sonic holding shadow and saving him, he seems to get really, REALLY emotional when it comes to shadow than anybody else.. for some reason... and shadow' reaction when sonic almost died. OWee that was done so well. the way.. he held him.. tight.. when sonic was dying.. oh my gosh. bride style. oahy.. im not too fond on talking about prime since in terms of the "sonic and shadow" dynamic it sort of slaps you in the face but hey I appreciate some sonadow anytime, if that was their actual only canon dyamic i dont think I'd care for it as much but its more of an add on to one of the most insane PASSIONATE.. crazy mutually charged dynamics ive seen in my life... like why are they like that.. can they STOP.. those two.. my brain will explode if we actually like actually like ACTUALLY see them togteher and if its anything like "them" with their subtetly and bizzare unique tensions, i think i will lose my sanity and just not function anymore. good fucking bye if i see a mention towards emerl or the ending of sa2 i will lose my absolute shit and you random person seeing this will see me go through it. my sketchbook would probably be overwhelmed by the amount of incoherent sonadow mess dear lord why..

ignore this i have an exam tomorrow and ended up going on a crazy rant about tbese two hedgehogs that have carried me through senior year, shout out to sonadow.. gotta be the only thing dragging me towards a degree.

[elusivemusingszine]

IT'S BIG. IT'S SCARY. IT'S THE ELUSIVE MUSINGS ZINE.

Elusive Musings is an 18+ multi-fandom zine centred around the theme of cryptids. We accept any and all fandoms (anime, games, comics etc.), ships, characters, OC's, relationships and themes - including nsfw and dead dove. The zine is free and digital only! No prior zine experience is required to apply, though discord is required to maintain contact and we ask you to please carefully read our terms on the form when applying.

Applications open 25th May, 2024

Mod Team: ⁘ Head Mod: @papersirens ⁘ Writing Mod: @thus-spoke-lo ⁘ Art Mod: @trashbabyart ⁘ Helper Mod: @lale-txt

FAQ below the cut, or see our carrd for complete info

IMPORTANT INFO

⁘ We accept and encourage all kinds of themes in this zine as long as the main subject of the piece is relating to cryptids in some way. SFW, NSFW, Dead Dove, OC's (in a fandom universe), x reader, self ships, romantic or platonic, non-relationship are all accepted.

⁘ We run on a 'don't like, don't read' policy, so please be respectful of other creators! Everything will be tagged.

WHAT'S A CRYPTID?

⁘ A cryptid is an animal that has been claimed to exist but it's never been proven to exist. (Examples: Mothman, Loch Ness monster, Bigfoot, yeti's, etc.) We don't consider all fantasy creatures as cryptids such as vampires or fairies. See the carrd for more examples.

ZINE FOR PROFIT?

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[threadsun]

Heeey~

So idk if ya done this yet or not but...

What about, Succubus Headcanons? For all our boys?

Just thought it would be a fun spicy little idea~

Ooh this is fun~

Content: multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral sex, creampie, premature ejaculation, supernatural biology, edging, corruption kink, tail kink

Jack:

He's just so darn sweet, it's hard to believe he's a succubus!

Seriously. You'd never guess he was a succubus. That's the point. That's exactly how he likes it~

He doesn't want his meal knowing he's feeding on them, he just wants you too blissed out to think by the time he's done

Call him a romantic if you'd like, but he doesn't want you feeling like you're just food for him. He genuinely enjoys the intimacy of being with you

But oh does he feed when he's with you. Drawing orgasm after orgasm from you, each one bringing him more and more satisfaction

His favourite way to feed is with his mouth, laying between your legs and going down on you until you're a shaking mess for him

He doesn't consider his job done until you're incapable of forming a coherent thought. If you can moan anything more than his name, he's not done~

He's very controlled. His full demon form doesn't come out until you're too fucked out to notice. Until you're so overwhelmed with every touch that you don't register the wings and tail...

And when it does come out, that's when he finally fucks you. You're boneless as he moves your body exactly where he wants it, fucking you like an animal until he cums deep inside you

He loves basking in the afterglow with you. Full from his feeding, you in his arms, he's in heaven

Ian:

He's another one that you wouldn't expect to be a succubus. He blushes and stutters so much that the idea of him being a sex demon isn't going to cross your mind

His favourite way to feed is to act the blushing virgin, ready to be corrupted into a pervert~

He'll do everything he can to get you to show him the ropes, teach him the exact way you want him to fuck you

He likes to subtly encourage you to live out your wildest fantasies with him, to tell him all your kinks no matter how filthy. The kinkier the sex, the more delicious his meal~

Seriously, get weird with him, it's what he craves. And if you're so inclined, he'll never say no to you being in charge either. He loves to be told what to do~

He's here to make you cum, of course. And he gladly will, as many times as you want him to! But he's also here to fill you, cover you, defile you with his own cum

He cums real quick, but he can go round after round with no need to pause. He'll fill each of your holes in turn, and then practically bathe you in his cum

He's not... great at controlling his demonic form. There's a good chance that the first time his cock slides into you, his true form will come out

But that just means he can bring his tail into the fun~ and he's more than happy to do that...

He's not a one and done kind of succubus. Once he's fed from you once, he wants you to be his only meal for the rest of your life...

Shaun:

He's pretty open about it. He knows there's enough monsterfuckers out there that he doesn't have to hide his true nature to find someone to feed on

And oh he's so sweet about it, so sensual... He'll woo you before he feeds, make sure you're relaxed and in the mood

From the moment he gets you in the bedroom, he's on. Wings and tail out, all demon. And oh so dominant as well, his voice deep and smooth as he walks you through stripping for him

He walks you through everything, simple commands with so much power behind them. He has you laying back on the bed, touching yourself for him to watch

He wants you to show him exactly how you like to be touched, where you're most sensitive. He takes it all in as he watches you, and when he finally gets involved...

Well, he blows your goddamn mind. His tongue, his hands, his voice... all of it seems almost made for you. Made to bring you to the peak of pleasure over and over

He likes to edge you. Build you up to the brink of orgasm only to pull away and wait for it to subside. That rising tension, the tightness in your tummy, it feeds him almost as much as your orgasms do

He's very indulgent. He wants you to be as satisfied as he is by the time he's done

So any kinks you want him to engage in with you, he gladly will~ Even just hearing you ask for it helps feed him

Once he's fed, he takes good care of you. Plenty of aftercare and cuddles and reassurance that he sees you as more than just a nice meal

Nick:

He doesn't hide the fact that he's a succubus. But he certainly doesn't lead with it either...

He'll wait until he's seduced you, got you wrapped around his finger and gladly following him to the bedroom. And then he'll reveal his true form to you, casual as anything

If you're hesitant, don't worry! He'll sit you in his lap and soothingly reassure you that it won't hurt one bit, unless you want it to, of course~

His hands will roam across your body, and his tail will tease at some of your most sensitive spots while he coos in your ear about how he's sure you'll be good and let him feed...

You don't realise you've agreed until you're naked on the bed, laying underneath him, getting marked up by his lips as his tail teases your hole

It's overwhelming to be with him. His words drip with sexuality, and you'd swear he could make you cum just by talking

But he does much more than talk. There's never a moment that he's not touching you, playing your body like a perfect instrument and making you cum for him over and over

He likes to space it out, edging you until you're crying, making you cum once, and then edging you again. Small feedings for him, that all build up to the finale

He doesn't want to fuck you until he's almost full. Once you're a mess for him, though, he'll flip you over and mount you, fucking you hard and fast until he cums inside of you

Once he's done, he cleans up. He likes things tidy. And once everything is clean, he'll hold you in his arms and use that same heavenly voice to lull you to sleep

Joseph:

He almost feels bad about being a succubus. He doesn't want to feed from anyone unwilling, but he also wants it to be someone special to him, so he lets himself go hungry

So when he first gets to you, he's ravenous. He's insatiable. He hasn't fed in so long and he's absolutely desperate for you

But... first he wants to show you his true form. His tail, his wings, he wants you to know who he is. Please be kind to him about it, it takes a lot for him to trust someone with this side of himself

Once you've accepted him, that's the end of his patience. He kisses you with more passion than you've ever felt. His hands are all over you, his lips eagerly following

He needs to make you cum. His mouth, his fingers, his words... he'll use everything at his disposal to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible

And as soon as you've cum once, as soon as he's had his first taste, he needs to feed. He won't give you a break, wave after wave of pleasure crashing over you

He'll spend hours between your thighs, drawing every orgasm he can out of you. He doesn't even need to be inside of you, at least not until he's thoroughly satisfied already

Then he'll finally fuck you, slow and sensual. He makes love to you, holding you like the most delicate thing in the universe. The praise never stops falling from his lips

He doesn't care when he cums, or how many times. He'll just keep making slow, sweet love to you until you're satisfied

And then he'll hold you and kiss you and promise himself he'll never let anything hurt you

Jean:

When he gets hungry, he feeds. It's not particularly meaningful for him, it's just what he needs to do to survive

But, he has always been a little tempted by the idea of having a human to feed on any time he wants. One who cares about him, and who he can protect

You're that human. He knows it the moment he sees you. Now, he just has to convince you of it too

He doesn't tell you about his true form until you've already promised yourself to him. Until he's sure you won't leave him or be scared off by it

And once he's sure you'll let him feed... well, he's not going to waste any time. He's got you pinned to the bed, tongue in your mouth before you can blink

He wants you in every position, on every surface, to claim every inch of you as his own. He wants to pump you full of cum over and over until it's dripping from every hole

But he's not purely selfish. He'll go down on you for as long as you'd like, his skilled tongue making you cum and then lapping it up like he's starving

He can't get enough of you once he's had a taste. Every spare moment the two of you get together, he's touching you and teasing until you let him feed again

Seriously, he's completely insatiable when it comes to fucking you

He's not great at aftercare, too busy basking in the feeling of being full. But he does always hold you afterwards and murmur possessive things to you about how you're his forever~

[rosesnwater]

Planning to do a reinterpretation of beauty and the beast,mostly to upgrade my portfolio,still figure it out but here’s the things I already settled.Got inspired by the 91 movie and the original story:

The setting is more goth like

Belle is an artist than a reader and wears glasses while drawing,she has a passion for fantasy scenarios and pretty dark for that period,she’ll start with very long hair but later they’ll get cut very short

Beast is an basically a horror elk,a chimera formed by a stag,crow,wolf and snake and has bones bursting out his body.He’s covered in jewels like earrings,piercings,nose ring,chains and ring on his horns,chains and bracelets on his arms and tail

The servants are ghost entities (every age,nationality and even animals) the beast can see them but not belle,they can communicate through possessing or controlling objects

The curse was put cause the prince’s father hated him for killing his wife at birth and basically saw his son as the devil.He basically sold his son’s soul,the whole castle and the whole servitude to an enchantress but with the trick that also him paid the price but in a more twisted way

Belle is forced in an arrangement with basically Gaston who’s a royal here (mix the 91 movie with his concept art)

Belle’s family was an ex royalty,barons who lost title because of family ties and arrangements,so belle,her sister and mother live in a provincial village

Religion horror

Bit more of blood and spicy elements

Nobody here is clearly straight

Mentions of s****de and mental illness

YES, YES, more Beauty and the Beast retellings!

Ever since panna a netvor I have loved gothic reimaginings of the story.

I love the way you've described Belle, especially considering you plan it to be more gothic with a little dark religion, I can totally see her going head-first into the romantic/gothic art of the late 18th century, early 19th century. Like a Mary Shelly but with painting.

The beast sounds gruesome, I think it's very interesting one of his identifiers is all the chains he's wrapped up in- definitely stuff to play with. Also a cool twist on the Disney aspect of possibly talking furniture, that's really cool ^^

Forgive me if it's out of line, but (in a Europe context) this feels so victorian gothic, what with the aristocratic growing (but hidden) interest in the occult, the upheaval of old power structures like belles family losing their title (baron/baronet feels so last stages of old noble family wealth drying up since these guys were the lowest in the nobility chain) which was especially noticeable during and after the industrial revolution.