#ready to torture/maim/kill

[padfootastic]

I have read through your posts and I know you like the dark! Sirius Black trope, but what do you think about dark! James? Yesterday I was scrolling through tik tok and I found this snippet where sirius was killed and dark lord Potter was unleashed and unhinged. Do you think sunshine James could destroy everyone and everything if Sirius was killed?

hello, friend! my sincerest apologies for the delay but—i am here now and let’s tackle this.

so. dark!james. very, very fascinating idea because it’s just so…incongruous to what we usually see him as? like, at least in our circles, it’s accepted he can be a bully & can be insensitive but to be truly dark? capable of say, premeditated murder? well.

i personally cant imagine it very well, i’m not gonna lie. i think sirius is very much the ‘i’ll burn the world down for u’ part of their dynamic and james’ just has. too much of a rigid moral code to very cross that line ykno? that’s not really a bad thing, of course.

however, i do see him as the kind who would destroy a person say, politically or financially or socially. like, he has a lot of privilege, yeah? usually doesn’t do anything with it but if sirius is killed? he’ll do everything in his considerable power to ensure those responsible are suffering as much as possible. he’ll get their businesses blacklisted, their families ostracised, run a public smear campaign etc etc. he would be able to justify it to himself as ‘just revenge’ ykno?

and i’ve mentioned this before in that ask ab sirius dying on halloween instead of sirius but as equal as i believe j/s is, i do think they occupied different spaces in each other’s life. where sirius clung more desperately, more possessively to james; i think james was much more secure & grounded and wouldn’t be as…dependent? on sirius. so if the roles were reversed, i can see s going a bit unhinged (as he did) but not james, exactly.

i do think he’ll spend the rest of his life fighting for sirius’ memory to be alive & honoured tho. do the things s wanted but wasn’t able to. keep a lifelong vigil for him.

[scattered-winter]

thinking abt shiro again...yeah no it's gonna be all day...

[prying-pandora666]

From Zutara to Sokkla - Narrative Framing and Hypocrisy

Something that boggles me about the fandom is the complete double standard between Zuko and Sokka vs Katara and Azula.

A pretty noticeable example is how we frame the infamous “I’ll save you from the pirates” scene versus the Day of Black Sun.

The infamous pirates scene is often lauded (or condemned) as the birth of Zutara. Fans allege the tension between Zuko and Katara is palpable, and that their attraction is clear.

But let’s consider:

Katara isn’t a realized bender yet. She can’t defend herself. She’s surrounded by hardened adult criminals with weapons who have it out for her, and two firebenders (like the man who killed her mother!) who have been pursuing her doggedly, one of whom has shown he is quick to use violence even against civilians and the elderly.

Zuko dangles Katara’s necklace in front of her, the only item she has left of her mother, and threatens to take it away forever if she doesn’t sell out her friends.

If you want to read romance in this harrowing scene, feel free. It’s fiction and I’m not the morality police. Have fun!

What bothers me is the hypocrisy in how people frame this scene by comparison:

Consider this: Azula can’t bend. She’s unarmed. She’s pinned to the wall and has no means of escape. Her enemy is armed, is the architect of this invasion, has an army outside ready to follow him, and is currently flanked by an unstoppable earthbender and the friggin Avatar!

Azula is using herself as bait to protect her father (and ostensibly Zuko) knowing her life would be in terrible danger for minimum of 8 minutes. During which the enemy can do anything to her. The Fire Nation has done a lot of harm and there are surely many soldiers out there who would love to take their revenge on the Fire Nation’s pretty little princess who conquered the “impenetrable” capital of the Earth Kingdom.

The show goes out of its way to inform us that Azula is an expert at hiding her emotions. She can even fool Toph’s lie detector. Why?

Many people misinterpret this as a sign that Azula is an emotionless sociopath or whatever ableist pop-sci ideas they have about ASPD.

In reality, it’s the opposite. Azula being an expert at hiding her feelings is made clear so that we understand why she doesn’t look terrified, or vulnerable, or sad, or hurt until the finale when she finally cracks and her facade slips.

All she has at her disposal to protect herself is her wits (she had a knife and some Dai Li, but she has neither by this point). She smartly uses what she knows about Sokka to exploit his weakness and buy herself time. She’s so good at getting under his skin (which takes a sophisticated level of weaponized empathy) that even after he figures out what she’s doing, Sokka still can’t help himself.

This is all she can do to protect herself and her father. We as the audience know that Sokka and Toph aren’t going to kill or maim her, but Azula doesn’t!

So why in the world was this scene received as traumatic for Sokka?

Fans will claim that Azula’s mind games in this scene left Sokka with lasting trauma. That this is emotional abuse.

But who is the one pinned to the wall with no way to defend herself? Who is the one with weapons to threaten her with, and powerful allies who have it out for her?

If Sokka experienced any lasting trauma from this altercation, he sure never showed it! Sokka never seems to think much about Azula at all outside of wanting a rematch when it’s presented at the Boiling Rock. And even that is due to his feelings of inadequacy after the invasion. He even makes fun of Suki for being captured by Azula! Doubt he would do that if she had genuinely been tortured or if Sokka had been so traumatized by this scene.

Suki: Are you trying to get on my bad side?

Meanwhile, Katara does seem to have lasting trauma over her repeated altercations with Zuko. She talks about how he chased them all around the world threatening them. She refuses to trust him after he betrays her and fears he will get Aang killed. Zuko did hire an assassin.

In what universe can we read Zuko and the pirates threatening a helpless Katara as “romantic” but the scene with Sokka and Toph threatening a helpless Azula as “traumatic for Sokka”?

Only a universe where we have already subconsciously decided we are on Zuko and Sokka’s side.

These scenes can only be read that way if we have already decided Zuko isn’t that bad regardless of how Katara feels about what he does to her, and that Azula is pure evil regardless of what anyone does to her.

It’s a world where both Azula and Katara’s feelings are ignored.

If you want to read the pirate scene as romantic? Have fun. Enjoy your fics. It’s all good.

But let’s not pretend Zuko is some pure woobie in this scene that just needs some Katara loving, while Azula is some fearless psychopathic monster that enjoys putting herself in danger as long as she gets to “abuse” Sokka.

There’s a reason these two scenes exist this way. Katara and Zuko are parallels just as Azula and Sokka are. Katara and Azula are foils just like Sokka and Zuko are.

Fandom can and should do better by Katara and Azula. They deserve just as much consideration and empathy for their suffering and unmet needs as their brothers do. Even if Azula was a villain - so was Zuko for most of the show!

And as a pretty consequence, I can say this: Zutara and Sokkla are equally viable.

Goodnight, shippers.

[linberlyy]

That promo shows that the writers even have team black minsunderstanding their characterization.

“They’re usurpers. Were the rightful heirs”

-Rhaenyra literally committed treason and forfeited her title when she gave birth to a white bastard child and tried to pass him off as her black husbands. Bastards can’t inherit anything.

“We do things the right way”

-when there is literally Daemon on the team.

-Killing Rhae Royce was the right thing?

-Groping your niece in public so you can ruin her reputation so the only one left to marry her is you.

-Wanting to have your baby brother tortured after your child just maimed him.

-Being smug and gloating at your big age because you see that your father cares nothing for his wife and children/your half siblings.

-Suggesting to actually kill your husband, only to have an actual murderer talk you know just faking it?

-Killing an innocent, to fake that death.

-Fleeing Kings Landing, doing nothing on Dragonstone. While letting Alicent and Otto to do all the work and successfully rule the seven kingdoms. Then coming back and insulting the people who are doing your job/

-USURPING THE BLOOD VELARYONS WITH YOUR BASTARD STRONG SON. CORLYS ALLOWING THIS TO HAPPEN TO HIS BLOOD FAMILY BECAUSE HE VALUES HIS OWN REPUTATION, EGO AND NAME OVER HIS FAMILY’S THOUSANDS YEARS OF HISTORY, BLOOD, SWEAT AND TEARS. “The old, the true, the brave” I think not

-Beheading Vaemond because he wasn’t standing for that shit.

-Blood and fucking cheese. The murder of babies. One of the foulest things to happen in the entire series. Up there with the abandonment, Rape and murder of Elia Martell and her babies and 11/12 year old Jeyne Poole being given to Petyr Baelish to be sold at his brothel.

“We seem like more of a family”

“Everybody gets on with each other”

-Daemon celebrated the death of Aemon and Baelon, then stole Baelon’s egg

-Rhaenys has disliked Rhaenyra since she was 14.

-Laena was a second choice and knew this all of her marriage. Daemon kept her from her family until she died.

-Daemon ignored his own child because she didn’t have a Dragon.

-Rhaenyra wanted to murder Laenor.

-Rhaenys ignored Rhaenyra’s sons, had nothing to do with them, never agreed to pretend to be their Grandmother, didn’t support Lucerys being the heir of Driftmark and only spoke in favor of him because she was backed into a corner and she also tolls in the service of men…

-Rhaenyra didn’t tell Corlys and Rhaenys their son is actually alive.

-Corlys and Rhaenys think they murdered their son. Rhaenys’a dislike is now a hatred

-Baela peaced the fuck out after that freaky Valyrian wedding and barely knows those people, especially her betrothed/stepbrothers.

-Rhaenyra’s sons are treated like royalty but Rhaena who is still hungering for her father’s attention, approval and affection is basically a glorified hostage to keep the Velaryons in line and is a servant to Rhaenyra. They have a formal where we only see Rhaena refer to her as “Princess” and “My Queen”. She seems to have no thoughts other than to serve “Her Queen”

-Daemon and Rhaenyra never gave Rhaena a new egg, yet they keeps finding eggs for each of their new pure Targaryen babies they keep having. He never took his daughter to see if she could claim one of the many at the Dragonmont. If he did why does she light up at the possibility of unclaimed dragons being used in the war? Free Rhaena

-Rhaenyra never told her son’s who their actual father is . Jace asks her and she gaslights him. She sends Luke on a mission and tells him that he has “Baratheon blood from your Grandmother Rhaenys” the boy dies with that lie being one of the last thing is mother told him even though he too knows Harwin Strong is his father. Rhaenyra doesn’t even offer him a “I’ll tell you about your father when I see you again” like Ned told Jon. Rhaenyra had no intentions of EVER telling them

-After they murdered his brother, Corlys was ready to abandon Rhaenyra, Daemon and those bastards and go back to Driftmark with Rhaenys and his real Grandchildren BUT Rhaenys reminded him that the girls are stuck with the Strong boys.

These people just seem like they just act in scenes yet they don’t actually watch the episodes to see the story come together. Either that or they’ve bought into their character’s superiority complexes. For the Team Black actors to have such a basic black and white, good vs bad outlook and understanding of their characters and see even their worst actions as good, is bad. The writers have failed to show the moral grayness of the book.

Everyone should see this post. it's just great. nothing to say 🤝🏼

[portraitofadyke]

Ed's 'inevitably violent streak'

I would also like to point out that despite the show skipping most of Ed's spiraling era and only showing us a very quick montage and his list of crimes, we never actually see him physically hurt any crew member but Izzy.

In s1, Ed never explicitly harms anyone. Maiming during the educational raids is mentioned by Stede, but Ed never lashes out on anyone but the 'other guys'. He threatens some guy to show Stede how it's done, he tells Fang to skin a guy. What is his reaction when the first person he lays himself bare for abandons him?

Yeah, he curls up into a ball, cries, eats shitload of marmalade in a pillowfort and writes shitty breakup songs. But wait, there is a guy in s1 who repeatedly slaps and threatens the crew! Someone who, coincidentally, also attempts to kill Stede after Ed tells him not to!

Oh, wait, it's Izzy. It's Izzy bc he cannot stand Ed going 'soft' around this crew. So he comes up with a plan to sell the crew and Stede out to the English and get them killed, despite knowing about Ed's feelings.

Of course, Ed throws Lucius overboard. Notably, right after Izzy threatens his life unless he becomes Blackbeard again. It's a breaking point for him, because he laid himself bare for Lucius the most, and in killing Lucius, he might kill that side of him. But, as we know, Lucius survives. We never really doubted it, to be fair, because Lucius is still A Good Guy.

In s2, we get the montage. It's said that Blackbeard has gone mad and is probably working the crew relentlessly, always raiding and looting and chasing after the next thing. I do believe the saw him do some pretty fucked up shit, and he's probably driving them crazy by making them do more fucked up shit on each raid. In fact, the crew knows he's fucked up, and Izzy even says they're all 'worried about him'. Izzy makes the mistake by not only quoting Stede and mentioning his name, but suggesting they talk about it, after years and years of prohibiting Ed from expressing his feelings and threatening him whenever he becomes 'soft'. Good thinking, just hypocritical and way too fucking late. In fact, when he comes on board after Izzy suggests talking, nobody seems all that alarmed until he pulls out the gun, which he never fires at anyone but Izzy, after he mentions Stede, the man Izzy almost killed multiple times. The crew is uncomfortable, they think he's crazy. It's never said that he hurt any of them. In fact, they all just kinda sit around until he shoots Izzy. After Izzy dares to talk about his 'feelings for Stede', something Izzy threatened to kill him over before. They actually seem pretty fucking shocked Ed did that. Would they react that way if he repeatedly hurt the crew?

After that, Ed just goes back to being depressed. In fact, I rewatched the first two episodes AGAIN, and Ed just goes to play with his dolls, cries like crazy, and presumably starts coming up with more passive ways to kill himself. In his interactions with Frenchie, he even holds Frenchie, and he never flinches, doesn't seem to be afraid to be in his proximity. Even when Ed knows Frenchie is lying about killing Izzy, he never lays a hand on him.

Even when he's sailing them into a storm, the crew is hesitant to take him down. They know he's fucked up, they wanna know if he's better. Sure, they are probably also afraid of him, but Ed once again never hurts them. He's at his lowest, ready to die, and yes, he makes Jim and Archie fight (bc he saw them kiss lovingly and that's... touchy). Even as he's ready to die, he doesn't go out to hurt any of them. When they finally take him down, he's just ready to go. At that point, he's just completely out of it.

My point is, certain people like to paint Ed as this inevitably violent person. And sure, everyone knows Blackbeard is insane. A maniac. He tortures both mentally and physically. But Ed, even as Blackbeard, goes after other people, not his crew. He hurts people in raids and soldiers and shit. Of course, he did send the crew through Hell, but for someone who is 'abuser' and 'gonna domestically abuse Stede', he doesn't hurt his crew other than Izzy, who fucking gets it after repeatedly trying to kill Stede and abusing Ed for years. They explicitly TELL US Ed's go-to answer isn't violence unless the other person threatens him. Maybe, just maybe, all of you are a bit racist?

[ghosthoard]

CW: main character death, aftermath of torture, vivid descriptions of injury

They had been too late.

And isn’t that a hero’s worst failing, almost there, almost in time, almost saving the day. What was the use if after the victory, there was nothing left to salvage?

If only they had been quicker and smarter, they would have saved the day just like they were supposed to. 

But mercilessly, they had no do-over, and they had to face what lay before them in their failure.

Their brother hung from chains that pulled his arms harshly up to the ceiling, his toes just barely skimming the floor. Blood dripped, dripped, dripped—! Time ripped himself out of the spiral, closing his eye to it.  

Wild had been taken from them. The yiga had grabbed him and dragged him into a portal. By Hyrule and Legend’s quick thinking and skillful spell casting, they had stopped the portal from closing just barely until it stayed frozen as the size of a disc, enough for maybe Wind to stick his head in. 

It took them an hour, 33 minutes, and 42 seconds to figure out how to widen the portal enough for them all to squeeze through and land in the middle of a mass of shocked yiga. Another two hours, 16 minutes and 2 seconds for them to throw themselves into maiming, incapacitating, and killing whoever tried to stop them from finding Wild. 18 minutes for Time and Warriors to find Wild too late. 

The approaching sound of footsteps as the rest of his boys arrived turned him around just in time to see Twilight enter the dungeon with Wind and Hyrule. The man’s eyes searched feverishly around the room, first looking at Time, Warriors who stood further in, and then finally they landed on the hanging body and he froze. 

Nobody moved, nobody made a sound. It was a brutal precipice they waited on. Sky, Legend, and Four arrived before anything happened, for of course all of them had to be present to witness the fall.

“Get him down…” Twilight’s voice cracked the delicate silence. Echoing around the dungeon. He stormed toward Wild. “Get him down from there! Here, help me.”

“Twilight…” Warriors said, careful with his brother’s heart, “he’s—”

“His shoulders oughta be real sore, and we hafta to stop the bleedin’. Hyrule, you need to get ready to heal ‘im.” 

Hyrule twitched to life at the mention of his name, tears already flowing down his cheeks. “R-Right.”

“I got you, cub, I got you.” Twilight had cradled an arm under Wild’s knees, his other arm hovering, preparing to catch him. “Sky, cut the chains.” 

Time heard Sky take in a breath before stepping forward to do as he was told, his face stony. The hum of the Master Sword was hatefully calming and beautiful as he unsheathed it. The chains snapped with just one perfectly executed swing and Wild dropped into Twilight’s waiting hold. A whimper escaped someone’s mouth from the way Wild’s head fell bonelessly back, from how his arm fell limply at his side. 

Twilight hastily moved his arm from around Wild’s shoulders to support his head as he lowered him to the ground. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, must’ve hurt your neck” he muttered. 

Now laying on the ground, everybody got a good look at Wild’s face which had been hidden behind his hair. His nose had gushed blood, and it looked broken. Bruises colored him a deep purple, stark against his pale skin. One of his ears had been cut off, the other burned. His eyes… blank and unseeing and stained red from the blood that had leaked down from his head.

“Okay, Hyrule, come on.” Twilight was avoiding Wild’s face. 

Hyrule numbly knelt on Wild’s other side, staring with wide, pained eyes on all the damage, the blood loss, the sunken chest that told of shattered ribs and internal bleeding, the missing fingers, the exposed bones. He reached out. His shaking hands started to glow. He placed them ever so gently over his brother’s chest, feeling it crackle under his touch. They all watched as the healing light shone for a few— hopeful despite everything —seconds only for a sob to wrack Hyrule’s body and the light flickered before going out entirely. Hyrule collapsed on top of Wild’s chest, clutching at the blood soaked tunic, letting out heart-wrenching wails. 

“What… what’s wrong?” Twilight said, his voice rising, his breaths shorter, “Why did you stop? Why isn’t he healed?”

“It’s not going to do anything, Rancher,” Legend’s caustic (devastated) tone lashed out. “Hyrule can’t bring back the dead.”

Twilight flinched. “Th-Then, a-a potion. Or a fairy…!”

Seeing Twilight’s face twist that way as he tried to hold back tears, Time automatically went to him. Twilight’s eyes snapped on to him as he approached and never left his face as he lowered himself to his knees next to him.

“Time… Time, we have to save Wild. We have to do something.”

Time wrapped his arms around his pup and pulled him close. 

“Time, please.” Twilight shuddered in his arms as he begged. “He can’t be dead. He can’t be gone. He would’ve been alone and scared when he died. We weren’t there. We were supposed to save ‘im. He would’ve been waiting for us.”

“I’m so sorry, pup.”

Around them, the others were getting closer. Legend started rubbing circles into Hyrule’s back, his face crumpled in soul deep sadness. 

Sky had lifted Wild’s head up onto his lap, gently closing the boy’s eyes before starting to card through the tangled mess of hair and dried blood. 

Warriors had an arm around Wind’s shoulders, looking smaller and exhausted and ten years older as he took in Wild’s body like it was a punishment he was dealt. 

Wind was searching around the empty cavern with tear-streaked cheeks, hiccuping. 

“He’s skin and bones. How could they have done this much in so little time?” Four muttered in a numb grief. “It couldn’t have been more than a few hours between when he was taken and when we got here.”

“A lot can be done in an hour,” Time said. A person can be alive and then gone within a second.

“We should get out of here.” Legend said from where he had managed to bring Hyrule into a hug. “He doesn’t deserve to be here any longer.”

“No, he doesn’t.” Sky shifted, he lowered Wild’s head back down delicately as if he could still feel pain. Legend guided Hyrule onto his feet and out of Sky’s way. Sky got as far as leaning forward to lift Wild up when Twilight pulled away from Time’s embrace.

“Let me. Please.”

Sky nodded and stepped back. 

Twilight gathered Wild in his arms as he’s done millions of times before. He rested Wild’s heavy head on his shoulder then placed a kiss on his forehead. “Come on, cub, let’s get out of here.”

The shackles that were still around Wild’s wrists clattered as Twilight rose to his feet. 

“We’re getting those off,” he snarled.

Let me know if you want the next part~

[areyoudoingthis]

the more I think about "it was a fine fish. it was whatever," the more I love it, because the show is hitting us over the head with the fact that stede has lost his way, and it's costing him greatly.

he was laser focused at the beginning of the season, he knew that finding ed and keeping his crew safe and happy were his priorities in life now. he left barbados behind forever for that, got on a little dinghy all alone with a hopeful look on his face because he was sailing towards his freedom, towards ed and love and the sea, abandoning the anchor that dragged him down his whole life by giving everything he inherited from his father to Mary and the kids. he was the boy who liked to pick flowers chasing a whole colorful garden of his own choice.

but now he's back there, crushed under the weight of all the expectations he had placed on him since he was a little kid and the destructive, unachievable idea of a man his father taught him. he hears Low ask ed what happened to him and he thinks he did, he happened to ed and ed gave up piracy and shaved his beard and started folding socks and what has he cost him?? has he ruined ed in ways he doesn't even know yet?? and then he hears "that's why he likes you, it's because of your bumbling amateur status", and every doubt about his self worth he's ever had comes crashing down on him with a suffocating weight and he has to prove him wrong, he has to prove that he can do this, can kill a man, can protect ed and avenge the torture and the racist insults he received.

and everything unravels from there. picking flowers is bad, it does make him weak, killing and maiming and setting people on fire and getting drunk are what will make him a man who has value to others. I think even the sex is part of this, as much as he has wanted it for a while and as much as it would have happened at some point anyway because they love each other and they were going to get there when ed was ready.

but stede still has something to prove to the voices in his head who call him soft and weak and useless, so he loses sight of what truly matters, of what he's been running towards since the end of s1. "it was whatever" is the opposite reaction to his wide eyed joy at seeing the fish the first time, and it fits so well because stede is in the opposite headspace at the moment, and instead of bringing ed into his arms it pushes him away.

this is a lesson he's going to have to learn very soon, to stay alive and to keep ed in his life and to heal and find happiness with him. but it's okay that he messed up, because he's allowed to, growth doesn't happen in a linear way, you're not done becoming the person you're meant to be in a day or a week or a month. you will hurt yourself and the people you love and you will find grace and forgiveness because you're still worthy of them in spite of your flaws and shortcomings.

that line was perfect

[captastra]

New OC Drop!

Meet Lethyan von Valancius, Rogue Trader! Art is done by the amazing @rowscara, thank you so much for bringing her to life 💗🥰 She looks amazing!! A little bit about her backstory under the cut.

Name: Lethyan von Valancius

Age: late 20s-early 30’s

Homeworld: Voidborn, Lethal Revenant, Frigate Class

Birthdate: XXX.M41

Origin: Psyker - pyromancer

Archetype: Warrior

Triumph: Feat of Greatness - The power of your sorcery crushed a daemon of the Archenemy and drove it back into the warp.

Darkest hour: Shadow of Torment - An error during the sanctioning process brought you many hours of agony, which nearly cost you your life.

Love Interest: Heinrix van Calox/Marazhai

Birth-10:

Lethyan was born on the Lethal Revenant. Her black eyes made her stand up, some welcoming her as a positive sign for the ship, while many others saw her as an omen of bad things to come. For the first 10 years of her life, Lethyan lived as relatively a normal life as any person did living on a Frigate that traveled through space and the warp. In her 9th year, Chaos swept through the ship, tainting those on the lower decks and causing havoc while they waited for the Lord of the ship to send enforcers to quell the evil. Lethyan always knew she was a little different, a little off. Never growing cold, having a knack of knowing things she probably shouldn’t. But when others from a neighboring clan, their bodies twisted and maimed, bones and tentacles growing from various parts of their bodies, started to attack her, Lethyan burned their bodies to a crisp.

10-20:

After the events that transpired on Lethal Revenant, it would be a few years before Lethyan is turned over to the Black Ships to be taken to Terra in order to become a sanctioned psyker. Eight years later, Lethan is ready to undergo the soul-bound ritual to prepare herself for a life of service to the Emperor. However as the trial goes underway, severe complications arise an Lethyan is forever tormented by what transpires. These events leave her unfit to continue the path that had been set out for her, to become an Astropath, her powers and ability to control them are to much to simply kill her. Lethyan is then assigned to work on various ships that would travel throughout the imperium.

20-30:

Traveling from ship to ship over the next few years saw Lethyan prove herself as a sanctioned psyker. Her abilities as a pyromancer were effectively used on and off the battlefield, wherever heresy attempted to reign, those she served used her well. Lethyan was content with her life, accepting her role as a psyker and continuously making sure to keep her powers in check as the effects of her soul binding ritual continued to haunt her. It was during her 27th year that one planet Lethyan’s current Lord had come to was overrun by the taint of Chaos. This attack left Lethyan at the hands of cultists, fighting against torture and torment to survive. It wasn’t until Salamanders came down to destroy the Chaos taint that she was rescued and brought before the Librarians to determine if she was tainted as well. Once clear if any Chaos taint or risk of being possessed by a daemon, Lethyan spent the next several years recovering from what she had been through.

30s+:

After several years of recovery, Lethyan was able to obtain a job on another cruiser ship. She was there for a year before she received a most surprising summons from someone she could not ignore for risk of her own life: Rogue Trader Theodora von Valancious required her presence aboard the ship [ship name I can’t remember]. Her arrival on the ship led to where she is now present day, the new Rogue Trader of house von Valancius.

[superfallingstars]

Ok last one: Bellatrix grwm playlist

send me playlist prompts!

Plot twist I'm doing this one first because I adore this prompt. Bellatrix has the coolest vibes and I think I came up with something pretty unique – tho admittedly it was a lot harder than I thought it was going to be! I ended up with a riot grrl-ish playlist with a bluesy, witchy, off-kilter vibe. Lots of women screaming and growling and howling but like, in a fun (and violent) way. Killing people is ok when women do it. Um who said that anyway let’s partyyyy

Track list: 

Diamanda Galas - Do You Take This Man?: The ULTIMATE Bellatrix song. Tbh nearly every song on this album is perfect for her, they're all bluesy and screechy and about killing/maiming/torturing men. Also I listened to this while getting ready when I cosplayed as her lol

Sloppy Jane - Bark Like a God: truly have never heard anything quite like this song/album before and that’s the highest compliment I could give. Growly and dark and twangy but in a weirdly tongue-in-cheek and unsettling way

Babes in Toyland - He's My Thing: will forever be in awe of Kat Bjelland's growling abilities. This song is fun and rowdy and possessive and could totally soundtrack a torture scene and I think Bellatrix would love it <3

Coughs - Fright Makes Right: this song is so noisy and abrasive, but it always makes me giggle. Everybody wants to take me shopping that’s what everybody wants :3

Daisy Chainsaw - I Feel Insane: fun fact, the lead singer of this band would always perform in ripped up dresses and covered in mud. Very much Bellatrix’s vibe

Sonic Youth - Addicted to Love: everything about this song is just slightly off. It’s giving Bellatrix drunkenly singing at Death Eater karaoke night

Sloppy Jane - King Mitis: so far I think this playlist is giving “Bellatrix pregamed too hard and is attempting to do her eyeliner and failing miserably” and this song is only furthering that vibe. Business in the front we’re gonna party forever!!!!!!!

Hole - Good Sister - Bad Sister: maybe a bit too much for a grwm playlist but this is a quintessential Bellatrix song imo. Also on that note I'm plugging my actual Bellatrix playlist here LOL

Sonic Youth & Lydia Lunch - Death Valley ‘69: tbh don’t have much to say on this one other than it’s another dark noisy messy song. You see the vibe

PJ Harvey - Ecstasy: I knew I wanted to include something from this album but I was so torn over which song… even tho there’s so many on here about hating/injuring/killing men I ultimately went with this one. It's just pure pleasure and joy.

I'm legit SO pleased with how this playlist came out lol, thank you for the prompt and I hope you enjoy it too. Can I get a hell yeah for women screaming

[notknickers]

you should have picked the killing machine

synopsis: another day. another crisis. another session.

warnings/tags: unethical power imbalance, dominant!reader/submissive!könig, mummy!reader/pup!könig, cocksucking, drooling, muffdiving, vaginal penetration, könig is a fast shooter (that's the real reason why he never made the cut for sniper),premature ejaculation fetish, crying, cum eating, praise, size difference

audiences: strictly adult

word count: 2736

a/n: this... uh... this is an impromptu fic that came out of nowhere, started a specific way, but then derailed towards the end because of a different idea that took hold of me, but refused to let me go until i wrote it.

also, yes, i am aware that littles usually go with caregivers (mummies, daddies, others) and handlers with pups and kittens. but i also firmly believe that we make our kind of relationships in a way that fits us, not the opposite.

if könig wants to be something in between a guard dog* and a cuddly puppy who's more in need of a mummy, than a handler, then, by all the gods real and imagined, that is what i will give him.

* i trust we shall get to this one, eventually.

people who asked to be tagged: @kathy-ifnt

as usual, no one under 18 below the cut

one would think könig’s disfigurement would make it unpleasant to stare at his face, the way his lips do not merge as fully as they should when his mouth is closed, due to all the thick scar tissue on them and his lower face that force some rigidity, interfering with the fluid movements of his facial muscles.

it’s barely noticeable, really, after all the years the colonel has had to live with his injuries and their consequences. but the way the two of you interact make it difficult to conceal even for him.

so, you’d think it grotesque, even to watch the colonel slobber, if he's not careful to suck in all his saliva before even considering saying what he has to say.

but to you, that is hardly an impediment. you wouldn't call it an enhancement either, out of respect for what tremendous acts of violence must lie at the base of those deep scars and what look like the remains acid burns, you guess.

yet, there is nothing, not the ruin of his face of all things, that could stand between you and the utter beauty of seeing that cruel, dangerous wolf of a man turn to a drooling, pliant puppy in your hands.

he could go out collecting maiming upon maiming as if it were a new extreme sport to him, and you would still accept his attentions. as könig does yours.

because what the colonel offers is too precious to be shallow, now.

these thoughts run through your head as he kneels before you, lower half of face the only nakedness on display, pink, wet, deformed lips parted as he obediently waits for your say so, to allow him to lock them around the silicon toy you plan on having him service as if it were a real, throbbing cock of flesh.

even when you can notice the impatience, driven to the edge by your scent easily finding way to him through the slit in your drawers, under which you wear the strap, he waits.

as he should.

if you let it up to him, the colonel would be swallowing down your cock in no time. but that's not what you want. he can be rushed and forcing… no, teaching him not to be is as much a torture, if not more, than any technique the both of you have picked up in your years of service.

it is also necessary.

he gauges the pressure of your hand when it strokes his skull through the stubble of his buzz cut, to see if this time it will not just be another gentle pet, but an invitation to taste you. once more, he has to choke down a displeasured whine in both reverence and pride, when it doesn't turn out to be it.

«are you ready, puppy?», you speak softly, but he's fully focussed on you and has no trouble hearing your voice.

his eyes lift to yours as he slowly nods, as if calculated movements could hide the anticipation.

«then unzip your trousers. i want to see how much you like sucking on me.»

he does, eyes still on yours and chin lifted, as with his mouth open and already trickling slightly, if he looked down all the collected saliva barely contained by the inclined posture of his neck would trickle down.

it still makes him slightly self-conscious. even with you. even if you both pretend it does not.

luckily, he doesn't need to see what he's doing to feed his swollen cock through the undone zip. the sight of it, protruding thick and proudly straight, pushes at the corners of your lips in a small, enticed grin.

you pet könig's head in approval: «good pup, so hard for me already. now put your arms behind your back and keep them there until the end.»

he folds his arms on the small of his back, hand clasped tight on opposite wrist, forcing his brawny chest outwards, but not so much that you lose sight of his length below.

«if you act like the very good pup you are, colonel, i'll have something for you, by the end of it. understood?»

könig nods again, another small movement.

«go on, then… but remember what we said, or you can say goodbye to all of it immediately!», only now do you let go of his very short hair pinched between your flattened fingers.

honouring your words right away, he doesn't even move. instead, his tongue peeps out, its tip to yours, leaving behind a shiny trail as it contours the ridges around the head of your cock.

«good! slow. like that. i want to see you work», you encourage, and the colonel's grey eyes gleam silvery in the lamplight at the praise.

he flutters his tongue along your whole length, before drawing back up to the tip, at which his moist lips wrap, gently sucking, never plunging mindlessly to let you fuck his throat. it is his job to be mindful about how you would like to be pleasured with his mouth and focus on it, not be a mindless toy.

there will be time for that, but that time is not now.

he teases you with tongue and lips and, here and there, even a graze of his teeth, when appropriate, soon followed by suction, wet and increasingly loud as he alternates in between touches.

and you softly whisper gentle praises to him, as your eyes wander more and more frequently to the white pearl of precum capturing more and more light as it melts into a dense, translucent tear that hangs from the slit at his engorged, round glans.

you frame his jaw, allowing him to swallow you down to half. you can't resist aiming for the roof of his mouth as you do, pressure slow but consistent.

the colonel fails to choke down wet sounds as you push a little further into the soft tissue. in fact, tears prickle at the corners of his eyes, roll down on undoubtedly crimson cheeks from under his mask, to mix with the mess of drool that floods through his lips and coats all it touches.

his scars glisten beautifully under the viscous, bubbly spit the colonel couldn't hold in even if he had no prior impediment in that department. the man is a leaky mess all over.

eyes. mouth. cock.

you could compete with him yourself, as the drawers now drenched in spit as you push deeper in his throat, were already soaking in your juices at the brilliant sight the colonel always makes on his knees.

you throw in another compliment, underlining the sincerity of your words by thumbing his cheeks under his mask. he makes for such sight, you wish he could see himself through you.

impossible of course. having a standing mirror brought to a colonel's quarters, however… less so. you make a mental note to bring up the suggestion when könig will not be so busy sensuously bobbing his head at your waist, taking more of you, under your guidance, with each downwards movement.

finally, his lips kiss your skin. he thinks he is being subtle, surely, indulging a little more each time he takes you all in to nuzzle his nose in your fragrant curls. still, you don't see the harm in letting him believe so, when he has choked down his hastiness to please you as you wanted.

so you trap him there, face pressed against you as he gags and huffs you in. blithe in discomfort. satisfied in use.

when you finally pull out, the slimy saliva from his throat keeps you connected, until you push the colonel back on his heels, leaving the strand to dangle from his already messed up face.

«you were so good there, pup!», you caress through his damp hair, «ready for your prize?», you ask with nonchalance, as what he probably focussed on throughout his service were nought but an afterthought, to you.

in between pants, you hear a distinct, if frazzled, sound of confirmation.

you take a few steps away and finger at the strap with firm hand, releasing it from around your hips. it falls down as you remove your drawers. they bunch at your ankles, where your boots keep them.

«be good and help mummy with the boots, will you, pup?»

the colonel doesn't hesitate to crawl on his knees, cock still stiff and leaking bobbing at the clumsy motion, and undo your laces, before carefully helping you out of your shoes, making sure not to unbalance you as he frees you from all your bunched up clothes.

as soon as he is done, his hands diligently return behind his back.

you go down on one knee, holding his wet chin between your fingers: «would my pup like to come into mummy?»

his uneven lips barely quiver before he immediately steadies them, but his eyes take a little longer to recover from their having grown wide. yet, the muscles on his abdomen flinch involuntarily, causing his cock to bounce lightly.

you chuckle, caressing a cheek: «hm, pup? what do you say?», your hand brushes his head as you stand up.

his hesitance, or whatever delays his answer, makes you scoff.

«is that such a difficult question, colonel?»

he stares at you: «no», voice low and brittle.

«then what’s the problem, here? am i really supposed to believe that you’ve never thought about it?»

he shakes his head.

«no? no, what? no, you’ve never though about it, or no, that’s not what you want me to believe?»

«i haven’t earned it.»

you can’t help but laugh at his words. his expression, in between angry and morose, only pulls more laughter out of you.

«but it’s not your decision. is it, colonel?»

he relaxes a little, exhaling his reply: «no.»

you stretch out a hand, inviting him closer: «come, pup. let’s ease into things a little, hm?»

what feeble fight in him he showed is gone when you guide his head between your thighs. to that, he has never objected. he laps at your folds with unrestrained gusto, all reluctance shed behind the moment his lips tasted yours.

you press him into you, rubbing your cunt all over his half-masked face – the way he likes – resting one leg on his shoulder to grant him more access to your core as he relishes in the feel of it holding him in place.

as if he would ever run…, you think to yourself as you watch him do with his face as you please.

pleasure rumbles within you as your hips thrust against him, his lips capturing your plumpened nub and sucking loudly at every push, until you are pressing hard into his open mouth, warm and soft around your whole sex, hips stilled yet shaking inside.

it’s hard to swallow with such a dry mouth. you try all the same as you recuperate, wiping loose hair from your forehead as you step back in need of reprieve from könig’s zeal, now that you are at the most sensitive.

something that sounds in between like a huff and a chuckle pushes out of you as you look down at the colonel, who is also busy in his post-meal routine of licking around his mouth for more of you.

you open the top of your fatigues, taking it off and dropping it on the floor, where you join it, only in your tank top, to feel the cold of the tiles against your sweaty skin.

you sigh at the contact as you keep fanning your face and neck with your hands, forgetting for a moment that könig is also on the floor, kneeling close-by. you are questioning whether you should join him: he often gets stuntedly emotional after your sessions and might need some affectionate skin contact – and a rolled-up cigarette with a glass of his disgusting apricot brandy, probably.

you usually provide and this time should be no different. however, he doesn’t give you the time to tend to your duties. you find him on you right away, hovering above you as he positions himself to mount you.

he must have undressed while you lay there, because he is naked in all his scarred and oversized glory. as always, he makes for a wonderful sight.

«changed your mind, puppy?»

he grunts in response and carefully lowers his heavy, solid body on yours, lifting your top as his cock grinds against your slit. you shuffle on the floor, slipping out of it entirely. the warm slickness makes the friction alluring, but hardly enough.

«waiting for mummy to let you inside?»

könig nods, showing a hint of impatience in his grinding you would find endearing, if you weren’t at your limit. you’re tired of waiting and, most certainly, not in the mood for begging.

however, there is one last thing you would like.

«can i see you?»

it wouldn’t be the first time, yet the colonel tenses up at the request, his rubbing slowing down.

you caress his face from under his mask: «let me take this off. i don’t want könig, the detached killing machine to fuck me. i want you… the man…»

you hear him suck in and swallow, before sighing as he slips his hood off and rests it on the floor nearby, fingers still gripping its folds. you hint a smile at him and he lets go of it when you trail a hand to the base of his cock, aiming it at your slicked entrance.

he sinks in slowly, cheek pressed against yours as he groans in your ear, aching walls stretching in the shape of him before he has barely filled you. his next few thrusts are tentative and out of rhythm. he groans at each one, before folding even more and bending his legs to rest his head on your chest while he’s inside you.

when he begins to thrust in earnest, large, heavy balls smacking against the tiles in a way you refuse to believe doesn’t hurt, he does so with the same panache and charm of a teenaged boy losing his virginity, whimpering and drooling on your tits as he slips out more than once. luckily, he always finds his way back in the appropriate hole.

you lie under him staring at the ceiling, arms hugging his nape and upper back as he relentlessly confuses passionately fucking with wanking into you, trying not to laugh at the situation, sure the two of you sweating on the floor and making inhuman noises must make for quite the grotesque sight that, hopefully, no one will ever witness.

perhaps you should reconsider that mirror delivery idea.

you tell yourself that he was so overwhelmed by your desire for him and so aroused by the previous use, that the shock of it made him forget how to fuck, as you are sure this might be the first time together, but certainly not the very first for either of you.

his pathetic whines turning to sobs take you from your thoughts, the telltale signs that he’s close. renewed tears wetting your breasts as he presses his face against them enough to hurt confirm it, as does the increasing, out-of-tempo fury of his hips.

he lifts his head for a moment, desperation in his eyes as he tries to form a sentence: «mum… mummy… please!»

he tries to hold back until your leave. a noble attempt, yet, he barely finishes speaking, that his face is back to your breasts. he shoots inside of you, like you wanted, cock pulsing frantically as he fills your cunt to the brim. it’s difficult to wrap your mind about the fact that the whole business lasted five – very intense, especially for könig – minutes or so.

you still manage a good pup, physically unsatisfied, yet unexpectedly very flattered by how it all turned out, as könig rocks inside of you a few times, before burying himself whole, safe and warm inside of you, not moving any more.

the breakneck beating of his heart echoes against yours, rivalling the sound of his weeping and sniffling, as he refuses to abandon the shelter of your bosom, if not to reposition his head to better suckle your nipples.

That relaxes him enough that the cathartic crying is soon a memory and he is ready – if not voracious – to clean up with his tongue the mess he made between your legs.

[ficsofabotchedmind]

I think I’m in hell 3

Summary? Still no. 🤭

Warnings? Definitely.; talks of dead animals and maiming of animals, gifting dead animals, Wednesday laughing & blushing, talks of blood, talks of mental torture, sexual innuendo

Translations (please correct me if I’m wrong): φεγγάρι μου - my moon in Greek

Mi sol - My sun in Spanish

Ma chérie - My darling in French

Chapters 1 2

——————————————————————————

Chapter 3

Still in the woods

Wednesday, having heard a sharp noise, asked, “Enid, did you her that? What was it?” 

Enid, still in wolf form, thought to herself, “How in the hell did she hear that??”  

Noticing the wolfs silence, Wednesday looked towards her, “Enid, what was that noise?” 

Enid, having been caught staring, could only reply with a nervous whine and continued to nudge the tiny raven with her snout back towards their tree. 

“With the way you are acting I’m starting to believe that was Weems calling.” Wednesday gritted out 

Enid, freezing only slightly but then continuing with her walking, just whined in slight conformation. 

“Damnit. Well, at least she gave us 3 hours.” Wednesday, already planning the Principals next torture, said flatly  

Trekking their way back through the woods and finally arriving to their tree, Enid shifted back. Wednesday, once again watching in fascination with a twinge of sadness for her girlfriend, having Enids clothes in hand waited for the girl to right herself. 

Enid, once catching her breath and getting the feel of her human legs back, looked to Wednesday and gave an exhausted yet grateful smile, a peck on the lips, and took her clothes, “Thank you, φεγγάρι μου.”  

Wednesday, who will never admit this to anyone for as long as she lives, with a dusting of pale red coloring her cheeks gave a soft smile, “You are quite welcome, mi sol.” 

Wednesday, waiting for the girl to get dressed, continued to put their kills into her box in preparation of finishing her work. 

Enid, once dressed and practically bouncing from both excitement of finally being called back and nervousness of what was about to happen, turned to Wednesday, “You ready to go?” 

“Yes, I am and here, you get to carry this while I carry the box.” Wednesday, knowing how much the other girl hated blood, gave Enid their bags to carry while she carried the box full of dead animals. 

Enid, smiling gratefully knowing her girlfriend wouldn’t put her through anymore torture, gave a sigh of relief, “Thank you.” 

“Of course.” Wednesday replied  

Making their way back through the woods towards Nevermore, Wednesday decided to fill the silence purely out of curiosity if the other girl’s reaction to what she had to say, “I’m going to give Principal Weems the white rabbit caught.” 

Enid, seeing the other girls wicked smirk out of the corner of her eye, said, “Clean it and stuff it first, Wednesday. You aren’t going to give my mother a heart attack by giving her a blood covered bunny.” 

Wednesday, getting the reaction she wanted, smirked, “Fine, no freshly killed, uncleaned, and unstuffed rabbits.” 

Enid sighed in relief, “Thank you, and just for your cooperation I’ll see if I can convince my mom to let us do this again.” 

Wednesday, very pleased with this answer, felt her lips soften and relax into more of a gentle smile, “Deal.” 

With that, the girls fell into silence as they walked back to Nevermore, well as much silence as Enid could provide. 

Back at Nevermore  

“I’m dead. I am DEAD!” Larissa exclaimed  

“Issa, you are not dead.” Morticia, who couldn’t help but give a small chuckle, said trying to soothe the frazzled woman 

“Oh really, Morticia? Once that little she demon gets back with my daughter I will be skinned alive and mounted on a wall!" Larissa whined 

All three Addams that were currently in the room gave a chuckle, but only Gomez spoke, “Don’t worry, Larissa. We will make sure she doesn’t kill you where you stand.” 

All Larissa could think was, “Yes, like she will listen to you, the bloody child listens to no one.” Larissa, with a smile, had another thought, “No one except Enid.” 

Morticia, not used to seeing the devious smile on the blondes face, asked, “My love, what are you thinking?” 

Larissa turned her head towards Morticia, and her smile grew into a beam, “She will certainly not listen to me or anyone in this room, but she will certainly listen to Enid. So, if Wednesday becomes irate then all Enid has to do is speak.” 

Pugsley, who had understood the reason for the smile before his mother, snickered, “Who’s the dog in that relationship?”  

Oh boy did that earn him a look from both his mother and her girlfriend, but it also earned a laugh disguised as a cough from Gomez upon receiving such looks. 

With the glares still settled in place, both women turned back towards each other and upon locking eyes their looks both softened as well as their faces. 

Larissa, about to speak more about her worries, remembered something, “Oh! Before I forget completely or die one, here are the keys to your respective classrooms and one for your room. I must request you keep the noise at a minimum due to the fact this is a school and not your home, understood?” 

Morticia laughed softly, “Yes, it is understood, ma chérie.”  

“Good. Very good.” said the woman who was obviously still nervous about Wednesdays reaction did not notice the slip Morticia had made 

Pugsley, Morticia, and Gomez froze.  

“Mom, what did you just call Larissa?” Pugsley stuttered out 

“Fuck.” was all that Mortica could think and so she decided to just say, “You heard right, I called Larissa ma chérie.” 

“But why?” Pugsley asked, he already knew but he just wanted all of them to say it 

Larissa, now worried for the current situation and not Wednesdays reaction, took over but not before herself and Morticia shared a look, “Pugsley, after I came to stay with you, your sister, and your parents, your mother and I had a conversation. Many conversations about our past relationship and current situation, and we decided that we would try again.” 

And so began an hour long conversation of everything that had been going on right under the children’s noses without their knowledge. 

The grounds of Nevermore  

Enid, feeling much better now that she was much closer to getting a shower, tried not to shoot straight towards the school and to her shared dorm with Wednesday. 

Wednesday looked at the bubbly werewolf and said, “Thank you, Enid. I know you don’t like hunting or violence really, unless it’s necessary. So, thank you for convincing Weems to allow this and thank you for allowing me to study you before, during, and after the kills.” 

Enid beamed towards the raven, “Of course! I know how much you wanted to get out, stretch your legs, and use your tools and weapons.” 

With a smile from Enid and a softened look from Wednesday both girls made their way to their dorm to clean up and put stuff away.  

After about an hour, both girls were done cleaning up and making sure things were put away, so they made their way down to see Weems. 

All poor Enid could think was, “Please God, don’t let Wednesday try and kill my mom and her parents.” along with, “The blood actually came out and off good this time, next time I might have Wednesday wash off my werewolf form.” 

Upon hearing a giggle come from Enid, Wednesday looked at her wolf out of the corner of her eye, “Why are you laughing?” 

Enid beamed and laughed harder, “I was just imagining you trying to give my werewolf form a bath.” 

“It’s most likely no different than trying help bathe your human form.” Wednesday said with a smirk 

“Wednesday!” Enid barked out a laugh at the obvious euphemism 

They continued in silence, barring a few giggles from Enid, towards the Principals office. 

Larissa’s office 

The girls having arrived, opened the door and heard the tail end of the conversation of the occupants who have failed to notice the arrival of the two teens, “So we decided, to seek permission from the board and ask them permission for your mother and father to each have permanent spot within Nevermore and it works for the blossoming relationship as well. Your mother and I can be closer without 6 hours separating her and your father, God knows how clingy that man is.” and as an afterthought Larissa said towards Gomez, “No offense.” 

Gomez laughed playfully, “None taken.” 

“So, you two, but not my father, are dating while mom is still married to dad?” Pugsley asked, knowing the answer but still wanting clarification after everything  

And finally, after snapping out of their shock both girls spoke, “Your what?” 

And everything screeched to a halt. And you could hear a pin drop in this moment, that’s how quiet it was. 

Then all you can hear from all three adults in the room, “Oh fuck.”  

Wednesday eyed Larissa, “So this is why you allowed Enid and I to go hunting, especially on her wolf form?” 

“Yes.” Larissa replied, too scared to say anything else at this point really 

“You also hired my parents as teachers AND you’re dating my mother?” Wednesday fumed 

Again, all Larissa could say was, “Yes.” 

Wednesdays eye twitched, “I now have to see my parents every single day thanks to you?” 

Larissa, confused that Wednesday seemed to only focus on the whole teaching factoid, said, “Yes, but are you not curious about the fact I’m dating your mother?” 

Wednesday gave the woman a look, “No. I don’t care that you are dating my mother, I care that you haired my parents to work at this school. Not only do I have to now see them every single day, they are my teachers.” 

With that, Wednesday stormed out of the room. Enid, finally coming out of her shock, giggles, “Oh my god, I’m so happy for you! We can talk about it later and oh, I am so excited that you two are the new teachers! But now, I have to go after Wednesday.”  

Squealing slightly and with a wave, Enid takes off after the tiny teen before she can commit mass murder. 

Everyone that was left in the office is still silent until Gomez speaks up with a nervous laugh and look, “That’s our little storm cloud.” 

That caused him to receive three different looks from the others that were in room with him. Larissa; a look of nervousness. Pugsley; a look of agreement. Morticia; a look of fondness. 

And all that could be heard next was Larissa, “Oh God, I’m dead.” 

[adzeisval]

Overlooked, part two

Part One is here.

Edward was furious and in the mood to maim. He was going to fuck up every single person that laid a hand on his crew. He was grateful that everyone was back on the Revenge but it wasn’t going to be over until the torturers were dead. No one hurt Blackbeard’s crew and got away with it. 

As they neared the floating camp of sorts where the crew had been tortured he went down to make sure Izzy was ready to fight. He figured Izzy would be; Izzy would probably want to strike the killing blow on several of the men. 

“Izzy?” he knocked on Izzy’s door but when he didn’t answer he poked his head in. 

Edward gasped and covered his mouth with both hands and suddenly his anger drained and he was hit with a wave of regret so strong it nearly knocked him over. He did, in fact, end up on his knees in front of Izzy’s bed. 

The only thing that kept him from crying out was the fact that he could see Izzy breathing. That was the only good thing. Izzy normally slept on his back, he only slept curled up like that when he was hurting and Edward could see part of what was hurting Izzy. 

There were at least a dozen lashings, partially healed, on Izzy’s back. The skin on his back was red, not from infection but from sunburn. He could see bruising everywhere, especially on Izzy’s ribs. He could see bruising around Izzy’s neck that suggested he’d been partially hung. 

Edward had never asked Izzy if he was alright. He hadn’t told Izzy he was thankful that Izzy had survived and brought everyone back. He hadn’t offered Izzy any comfort at all. And it looked like Izzy hadn’t sought comfort anywhere else.

“Izzy?” 

Izzy stirred and groaned and turned toward Edward. Fuck. He’d been crying. Izzy blinked slowly.

“Sorry, slept too long…” Izzy sat up and winced. 

“Easy Iz, fuck, I’m sorry mate. I wasn’t thinking about anything but revenge. Wasn’t thinking about you being hurt. I’m sorry Izzy,” Edward put his hand on Izzy’s shoulder. Izzy reached out hesitantly and Edward pulled him into a gentle hug, careful of his wounded ribs and back. 

“I needed this,” Izzy sniffled. 

“I should have hugged you the second I saw you. Fuck I was so worried Izzy. It would’ve destroyed me if you hadn’t come back.” 

“Needed that too,” Izzy said. 

“Are you really up to a fight Izzy?” 

“I…am. Maybe not in the front of the fight but I don’t want to sit idle,” Izzy said. 

“Then I’ll support you,” Edward said, “I’m sorry I didn’t support you earlier. I still get stuck in the old ways sometimes.” 

“So do I,” Izzy said.  

“We can work on that. I want to work on that,” Edward said. 

“Me too. I…might need a little help getting ready for the raid,” Izzy said. 

Edward smiled, “I’d be glad to help Izzy.”  Izzy smiled back.

[unbound-lust]

Okay but got a somewhat convoluted smut plot stuck in my head so going under cut partially for space and partially cause idk

So premise of plot is that Muse A is training to be a spy (or ninja, special agent, really a lot of related careers). Part of their training is a test to resist interrogation and/or torture in the event of being captured. They are given a password and told if they give said password to their interrogator before time is up, they will fail the test. They are not told how long it will be, cause that's part of the test. The only information they are given is their interrogator cannot permanently maim or kill them. With that setup out of the way, they are bound and tossed in a cell.

Enter Muse B, the interrogator~ They are a sadist ready to indulge themselves with Muse A. Instead of conventional torture methods though, they've just decided to fuck their brains out~ They're set on absolutely breaking Muse A under the terms of the test~ And unlike Muse A, they know how long the test is: they aren't here for a few hours, they're here for a few days~

A potential fun angle: failing the test doesn't necessarily mean it ends~

[neimiismycoolgirlname]

Guts as a Character is such deeper than you'd expect at first glance.

Hardcore fans trying to sell their friends on the manga would have you believe that he's some kind of sociopathic barbarian who kills demon to live but it's denser than that.

As a character Guts has been striving for approval and the right to live his entire life. He was an orphan raised by a mercenary who abused him and let him go through so much trauma. He was not good enough in the eye of his foster father who abused him until he murdered him.

Then he distanced himself from other people, fighting as a lone mercenary and refusing any long-lasting contracts. He was running away from metaphorical demons already.

Then, he met Griffith, griffiths who beat up guts but also told him he was needed, appreciated, worth the effort, his accomplishment were recognized and until the end his only goal was the approval of Griffith, to deserve to be on equal footstand as this human god. And he almost did.

Meanwhile Griffith kept everyone at arms length valued his men but also made sure they knew he was above them. It pissed him off so much when Guts left because by doing so Guts proved they were no longer a superior and a subaltern. In fact, guts was shortly stronger than griffith. And to add salt to the injury, his woman, Casca, the one woman he welcomed as a subaltern in his private army was hesitant between him and Guts. For the first time, however, guts was not running away anymore. he did not have any demon or past to atone for. Yes he committed monstruous acts in the name of griffith but that debt was paid in his mind. He was ready, for the first time to settle down.

No doubt, had griffith not been captured, Guts would have found a place to retire and live a simple but happy life now that the 100 years war had ended. But Griffith fucked up, griffith, his equal was captured, tortured, maimed, and Guts had to save him. And that was the last straw for unbeatable and superior griffith, the person he could not have anymore, was in his debts.

After the eclips, guts cannot retire, not because of regrets or because he does not want to. but because he can't for as long as the hand of gods and their demons exist, as long as the mark is on him his only salvation is to kill Griffith. To prove once again that even with the magic of demons on his side, Guts is better than griffith. He has something griffith dreams of : friends, people who saw him do terrible things and kill demons by the dozen and keep following him even if it puts him in danger. Guts is one of the last two survivors of the Eclipse. Casca went insane because of what happened to her. Guts survived an ordeal worth than death, worth than what griffith went though and an ordeal he inflicted on guts. and Guts cannot stop running. Not towards griffith, he ran away from demon, only facing the ones he could kill for certain.

Before meeting griffith, Guts was alone after the eclipse guts was alone again except now he made allies, people who wanted to see him succeed in defeating unbelievable odds. Defeat his best friends who became the strongest demon-lord in the world and which everyone believe is saving it while he conquers it.

[animereaderinsertwriter]

Previous - Chapter 2 - Next - Masterlist - Playlist - Art - Ao3

Pairing: Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Tags/Warnings: princess bride!AU, pirate!izuku, reader is in an arranged marriage with someone else, angst, smut, brief mentions of alcoholism and drinking too much, izuku spends some time as a prisoner of war, specifically as a galley slave, implied SA but not to yn or Izuku

into the movieverse! collab masterlist

“Must’ve been hard for (Y/N), being all alone,” said the girl, chewing on a nail. “She must’ve had to be brave.”

Her mother raised a brow with a cheeky smile. 

“And Izuku didn’t?” 

The girl thought for a moment, then shrugged. “I guess.”

“Well, I think becoming a soldier of fortune is a scary thing,” the mother replied, leaning back in her seat, watching the distant ocean waves. “There’s always someone trying to kill, maim, or cheat you in that life.”

“But he didn’t even make it that far!”

The mother laughed. 

“Am I telling this story, or are you?”

Her daughter pouted, comically poking out her bottom lip as she crossed her arms. “It’s just that he didn’t, is all.”

“Of course not,” her mother replied, still watching the waves. “He scarcely spent a week aboard the ship meant to carry him off to the front lines of Gildur before disaster struck… ”

***

By his fourth day aboard The Dragon Maid, Izuku decided that he didn’t much care for people outside his village, even if they were all from the same Florin stock. 

The Dragon Maid was a Florin ship of the line, with eighty guns and a mean, smelly crew. They were certainly an unpleasant lot by anyone’s standards; they screamed, they cursed, they gambled, they drank, and they hated anyone who wasn’t one of them. Whenever Izuku passed, they’d spit and swear, always ready to start a fight— but strangely enough, Izuku had gotten so used to Bakugou’s prickly personality that their treatment hardly fazed him. Hatred and vitriol were nothing to him; rather, it was the disdain and scorn of his fellow soldiers— especially the officers— that galled him more than anything. 

Since the day he boarded the ship, Izuku had never fancied himself above any sort of work. Often, found himself swabbing the deck in lieu of learning other skills to make himself useful on board during the journey, and he took every possible opportunity to learn as much as he could from anyone who would teach him. His peers, with their noses in the air and their thumbs up their arses, would laugh and jeer at him, tossing around under-handed insults to everything from his appearance to the question of his legitimacy, and more than once, he’d had enough cause to demand satisfaction, should he have desired it. Even so, he’d kept his mouth shut. It was of no consequence whether or not he was well-liked. His earnings would come with or without the acceptance of his peers, and once he had those, he would return to (Y/N) just as he had promised. 

Still, being in the company of such unbearable pricks with no reprieve was almost torturous, and Izuku found his patience tested to its limit and beyond. It was on that fourth day of the journey— a hot, sunny, bloody miserable day— that Izuku finally lost his composure, giving insult the dignity of a reply.

It all began with a man named Shoto Todoroki. 

Todoroki was a quiet man, calm and serene, with two-tone hair and a scar on his left eye. Ordinarily, Izuku would have preferred his company to that of the other officers— silence was far better than jeering, after all— had it not been for the air of superiority that followed the prick like a dark cloud, heavy and oppressive in every move, every breath he made. As it was, Todoroki reeked of entitlement and daddy’s money and a military education, and Izuku despised him.  

“Why are you here?”

The question came out of nowhere. Izuku was belowdecks, helping the cook— an old, greasy, gnarled man with a missing leg and withered arm— with his duties, chopping onions, cleaning pots, anything to make himself useful, when Todoroki came down to fetch a meal for the captain, with whom he’d been in conference all morning. As soon as the chef was busy preparing the meal, Todoroki turned to Izuku and asked that singular, pointed question like a quarterstaff to the head. 

“Excuse me?” Izuku asked, wondering if he’d somehow misheard.

“You are a farm boy with no education,” said Todoroki, his expression impassive. “You have no fighting skills that I have seen, and you’re too meek to defend yourself against the others when they harass you. You have no rank, no name, and no fighting spirit— so I’ll ask again. Why are you here?”

Izuku blinked. He blinked again. Todoroki was still standing there, so Izuku figured he’d better make some kind of reply before he was deemed a more of a fool than he already had been.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” he shrugged.

Todoroki’s eyes narrowed. 

“It’s all of our business.” Todoroki’s hand drifted to the cutlass at his waist. “When we go out and fight, you may end up being the man that watches my back. If you’re worthless, then I have a right to know why you think you’re worthy of guarding my back, or anyone else’s, for that matter.”

Since his arrival on the ship, Izuku had done nothing but work to prove himself. He had endured all with a steel spine and iron balls, and he had kept his tongue carefully in check. Somehow, this insult, delivered so matter-of-factly, was worse than all the others. This was cold, impersonal. 

This was unbearable. 

“I’m not worthless.”

As you are, you're unfit, unworthy—

Todoroki raised a brow. The cook was wisely silent, and stood as much apart from the two of them as he could in such cramped quarters. 

 “Are you not?”

You're not someone who can provide for her.

Izuku’s hands balled into fists at his side. 

“No,” he replied. “I am not.”

Todoroki hummed.

“I don’t believe you.”

Izuku’s vision went white. He felt his hand close around the handle of a cast-iron pan, freshly hot from the fire, and he swung it wildly, connecting it to Todoroki’s face once, twice, three times before he was pulled away and shoved to the floor. 

“Madness!” cried the cook, fury in his gnarled face. “Bloody fucking madness! Were you born without brains, you stupid bastard, or did you give it away to some poor beggar?”

Across the way, Todoroki was holding onto the counter, pulling himself upright. Izuku’s blows had dazed him, struck him down, but not downed him entirely. Briefly, the urge to lunge once more washed over Izuku, but he did not succumb to it. Instead, he put his head in his hands, and he felt hot tears begin to form in his eyes.

He’s right, Izuku thought miserably. I have no place here. These people have trained their whole lives to be killers, leaders, professionals— and I’m as green as summer grass. I should have a plow in my hand, not a sword. What the hell am I thinking?

Who knows how long he would have sat there in his misery, or what would have happened, had there not been a timely interruption? Certainly, striking a ranked officer like Shoto Todoroki would have resulted in severe consequences for someone like Izuku— but in that very moment, a series of whistle blasts sounded, and the three men in the kitchen looked at one another, frozen in place. 

“Was that—”

The words were barely out of Izuku’s mouth before Todoroki was bounding across the kitchen and up the stairs, taking them three at a time. 

“Enemy ship!” said the cook, pulling Izuku to his feet with more strength than Izuku would have given him credit for. “Up lad— go, go, go!”

Izuku scrambled up the stairs and onto the deck, and out of the confused throng of sailors and soldiers, Bakugou grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the starboard side of the ship. 

"Get ready," Bakugou told him, nodding across the water to a speck of a ship a good ways off. "She flies Gildur's flag."

Izuku swallowed. 

"You're sure?"

Bakugou nodded. 

"She's a big ship. Bigger than ours."

"Well," said Izuku, "How do we counter that?"

Bakugou turned to him then, his russet-red eyes sharp. 

"I don't know," he said, "but if I had to guess, we'll need to get the fuck off of this ship and onto that one, especially if they have more guns than we do."

Izuku huffed a panicked laugh. 

"Better to be on the ship with less holes in it, I guess."

"And better to take out the other men aboard before they can take more of us."

"And how do you plan to do that?"

Both Izuku and Bakugou turned to find Shoto Todoroki standing behind them, still as regal and princely as ever he was, despite the fact that he should be growing a goose-egg on the side of his head even now. Dark thoughts passed over Izuku, and his hand gripped the dagger he kept strapped close to his breast, ready and willing to finish what he had started— but Bakugou stepped between them and into Todoroki's space, his nose inches from the nobleman's. 

"It's impolite to eavesdrop, my Lord Cunt," Bakugou snarled. "Fuck off elsewhere quick-like, before I start feeling antsy."

Bakugou's hand went to his pistol— a less quiet solution than Izuku's dagger, but one that would prove just as effective— but Todoroki raised his hands in a surrendering motion. 

"It's a genuine question. If you don't want to die, listen closely."

Todoroki explained their situation in no uncertain terms. The gunners belowdecks would be doing all they could to destroy the other ship, and the captain would be giving orders and steering the ship so that they would be in the best strategic position to strike. Under no circumstances were they to board the other ship without the captain's orders. At best, they would cause confusion among the men, and many would follow them, leaving their own vessel undefended before it was time. At worst, they would simply die. 

"But," said Todoroki, "there are things a man might do to make himself useful, and there are exceptions to every rule when a ranked officer is among your company."

His meaning suddenly became clear. If the two of them stuck with him, Todoroki would take what they had to offer, and with his knowledge and experience, he would put them to their most effective use. 

"Very well," said Izuku, releasing his dagger. "Lead on, Midshipman."

Izuku could have sworn he saw Todoroki's mouth tick upwards— the first expression he'd seen from the man— but it was gone before Izuku could be sure he hadn't imagined it. 

In hindsight, Izuku should have realized that the conflict would not commence immediately. Rather, it took several minutes for The Dragon Maid to come close to the other ship, and even longer for her to draw alongside. The wait was unbearable— not just for Izuku, but, it seemed, every man aboard as well. All were twitchy and tense and silent as a graveyard, and even Todoroki seemed to have a darkness about him that had not previously been present… but when the action finally began, it became impossible to tell one moment from the next, and Izuku was glad of Todoroki's earlier direction. 

The deck was in chaos. Muskets were firing, men were dying— and Izuku was standing there, gaping like a fish out of water. He stood behind Todoroki, who was screaming orders above the din of the cannons— Fire! Quickly, you sons of bitches, load! Fire!— and from all that he could tell, there was nothing more that he could do. 

That was, until a man a few feet from himself was blown backwards by a cannon blast, his left arm lost to the blow. 

Izuku's body moved on its own. He was over to the man in an instant, flinging the soldier's remaining arm over his shoulders.

"Take him to the surgery!" Todoroki commanded him. "Iida will know how to staunch the bleeding!"

Izuku lifted the man with strength he didn't know he had, and by himself, he dragged the man belowdecks and took him to the serious, severe-looking barber-surgeon. When Izuku entered, Tenya Iida was shoving a biting stick into a sailor's mouth, and a second later, the barber surgeon began pulling out a large, cylindrical piece of broken, jagged wood out of his shoulder. 

"Iida!" Izuku called out over the screaming of the wounded sailor, "This man needs immediate medical attention!"

"One at a time!" the medic barked without looking over. "I have no one to triage—"

Izuku wasn't there to hear excuses. He hefted the man he was carrying to the operating table, then grabbed Iida's shoulder and roughly made the medic face him.

"If you don't do something for this man, he will die," Izuku said, fury coloring his words. "He's losing a lot of—"

Roughly, Iida shoved him away, and told Izuku that he would not be bossed around in his own surgery— but even as he did so, he began to prepare a tourniquet for the wounded man Izuku had brought in, so Izuku figured his part was done and made his way back to the deck of the ship and into the fray. 

The scene he rejoined was not pretty. 

In the brief moments Izuku had been gone, enemies from the other ship had boarded The Dragon Maid. Everywhere he looked, Izuku saw cutlass locked with cutlass, strength matched with strength; across the way, he could see that Todoroki was back-to-back with Bakugou, each of them fending off Gildur's soldiers for all they were worth, and he cursed himself for not being at their side when things turned ugly. Soon, however, he would find that there was no time to worry with such; for the moment he placed a single foot forward, Izuku found himself engaged with defending his own neck. 

It took three deaths for Izuku to reach his former position. The first death came quick, easy; a man came running headlong at him, screaming like a banshee, and Izuku side-stepped instinctually, just like Aizawa had taught him.

"Momentum is a hard thing to stop," Aizawa told him weeks ago at their first training, "but an easy thing to counter. Its strength is its weakness, and once a man's back is to you, it's easy after that."

As Izuku plunged his sword at an upward angle into the small of the charging man's back, he reflected on the truth of those words. Aizawa had taught him to think first, act second— but he was now so practiced that the thinking bit was almost subconscious. 

How's that for worthless? he thought somewhat smugly— but that pride only lasted as long as it took to take three more steps, and then he was engaged once more. 

Izuku caught an overhead blow with the blade of his saber, using two hands— one on the hilt, one on the blade— to brace against the crushing strength of his opponent. The man before him was burly, strong, but it made him slow. Izuku danced easily around him, dodging slow, heavy blows, waiting to land his own strike until the big, ugly fool was enraged enough to overextend himself in a desperate swing, and Izuku shoved his cutlass directly through the man's throat. 

The third death, however, was not so easily won. 

Izuku had nearly reached Bakugou's side when a slender, almost skeletal sailor from Gildur's crew came at him with a knife. The man was too fast for Izuku to dodge or counter, and it cost him blood and flesh— a gash cut from his left jaw to his right eyebrow. Izuku stumbled backwards, raising his cutlass in his best attempt at defense, but the other man was damned fast. He swung again, and though Izuku moved fast enough to avoid the knife being plunged into his temple, he couldn't avoid the bite of the knife, mirrored this time on the opposite side of his face, from his left eyebrow to his right jaw. Blood flowed from both of the wounds, blinding him; Izuku felt sure he would die as he wiped furiously at his face, trying to regain his sight, but by the time he managed it, he heard a solid thunk, and he opened his eyes to find the knife-wielder dead at Todoroki's feet. 

He opened his mouth to thank Todoroki, but he could scarcely say the words before Todoroki's eyes widened, fear coloring his usually expressionless face. Before Izuku could turn to see what had frightened his comrade so, he felt pain blossom at the bottom of his skull, and he knew no more.

***

"But he wasn't really dead, though," said the girl, looking up at her mother with those beautiful, sea-green eyes she'd gotten from her father. "Right?"

"Right," the mother agreed. "Fate wasn't finished with Izuku Midoriya. He still had much farther to go before he would find his rest."

The girl nodded, satisfied— but that was not all of the story that there was to tell. 

"Even so," the mother continued, "No one was there to tell (Y/N) that. She waited anxiously for news of her lover, hoping for word of his safe arrival— but what she got instead was a letter detailing his demise, and the sinking of The Dragon Maid…"

***

The parchment fell from her hand and onto the floor. 

(Y/N) stumbled backwards until she felt her hip touch the table in her kitchen, and she threw out a hand to brace herself against it, her chest squeezing her lungs empty and her stomach churning with the sickness of sudden, blindsiding grief. 

"No," she breathed. "No."

The word felt right, so she repeated it again and again until it lost all meaning. 

Her father simply watched her, his brows drawn together in quiet concern. Only moments before, he himself had handed her the parchment, not telling her what it would say. It was with no warning and no compassion that she had received the news of Izuku's death, and it cut her to the core. 

"I want to make you happy," he'd told her before he left. 

The memory galled her. With stinging nose and tear-filled eyes, she looked at her father, and instead saw the man who had sent Izuku away, who had forced him to leave the farm in search of gold. Malice rose in her then, and she said things no daughter should say to her father. 

"You did this."

Her father blinked, impassive, and rage blinded her to aught else. 

"You as good as killed him when you sent him away," she continued darkly, her tears coloring her voice, "You're as much of a murderer as if you had cut his throat yourself!"

Her father shook his head. 

"Oh, my daughter— I know you're upset—"

"He was the love of my life, and he's dead because of you!'

Her father sighed.

"He knew the risks when he left this farm, girl—"

"And so did you!" (Y/N)'s chest heaved, and her vision began to fade at the corners. "You knew the risks, and you still sent him away! You know he's a good man, father— he loved me, he would have been so good to me—"

"He couldn't have provided for you—"

"I would rather starve with him than feast without him!" 

"That's foolish talk," her father said, but (Y/N) had heard enough. 

"Get out," she told him— nevermind that this was her father's house. "Get out!"

The farmer left. 

(Y/N), alone with her grief, succumbed to it, let it pull her beneath its murky waters, and drowned there. 

[rahnekat]

OFMD and Love

"Love your neighbor as yourself."

"I loved you best I could."

Spoilers for S1 and the first 3 eps of S2, along with triggers in those episodes.

I'm sure there will be a lot of deep and insightful metas about the themes of OFMD from people who are far better writers than I. (For example, I think we're very clearly seeing the effects of toxic masculinity in Ed. Ed's inability to healthily process emotion becoming violence towards himself and others is often the conclusion that toxic masculinity barrels towards.)

However, what's really stuck out to me on this first watch is love or possibly the inability to love. Another way to look at it is that I'm having feelings about stupid fucking Izzy Hands.

Season 2 starts with Izzy getting what he wanted. Ed loves him. Ed even admits it in the second ep. The problem comes when you realize that Ed loves Izzy as an extension of himself. Izzy is possibly the part of himself that Ed identifies as Blackbeard. I think Izzy even starts to see it since he asks Ed what he is to him, tells Ed he has love for him, and gets nothing in response.

Since Ed sees Izzy as part of himself, Izzy becomes victim of Ed's self-image. Purgatory!Ed didn't have to say that he thinks he's unlovable when he shows it every moment. He repeatedly maims Izzy in order to torture himself. He lets Izzy rot for an indeterminate amount of time with his infected leg wound before giving him an out.

Even the fact that Ed tries to push Izzy into killing him shows that Ed sees Izzy as part of himself. (I'm about to start reaching so stick with me please.) Ed seems to still have his hang up around killing. The only murder we personally witness him do this season is a guy who has a sword through his chest and will die anyway. He can explain that away as putting him out of his misery. Now, you might think his killing ~*thing*~ is why he didn't just commit suicide but I think it's more than that. I think its because Ed thinks he's unlovable and also doesn't love himself. He's in so much emotional pain that death would be a mercy, in his mind. The problem is that mercy and grace are forms of love. Ed doesn't think he deserves that or is even capable of having it. I think Izzy confessing his love is the tipping point and the reason Ed is finally ready to end it. If Izzy is telling the truth, that's enough love for Ed to get his peace. When that doesn't work, it's not long before he uses Jim and Archie's relationship to try for his mercy.

This is all a big long way of saying that Jenkins & Co. seem to really believe in the idea that "you can't love anyone until you love yourself." Since Ed cannot currently love himself, the love others have around him becomes poisoned like an infected wound. I personally think you can love while still learning to love yourself, but for the purposes of the story, I think they are right about Ed. He needs to reach a point of self-tolerance at the very least if not self-love. He can't rely on a fantasy to save him. (It doesn't matter how adorable merStede is.) This all leads me to believe that the love story for this season will be Ed/self. Stede's in it for the long haul; he'll wait around until Ed figures himself out.

Note: This didn't come out quite the way I hoped, though that's gonna be because I haven't completely figured out what I want to say. I have thoughts brewing under the surface about several other themes though I doubt I'll end up writing anything about them. So, um, fix-it fic writers got their brief with "warmth, good food, and orgasms," huh?