#soft & dark ship quotes

[jemsbitch]

Emma carstairs and Julian blackthorn are just tessa and Jem in another font while jace and clary is Tessa and Will but y’all aren’t ready for this conversation yet

[fanaticsnail]

Killer Watchdog

Masterlist Here

Word Count: 1,700+

Synopsis: Studying at sea was never an easy feat, especially while travelling under the captainship and serving alongside the unruly crew sailing on the Victoria Punk. As you complete your intensive over Den-Den, you notice the silence and choose to investigate the cause.

Themes: Killer x gn!reader, fluff, sfw, studying, flirting.

Notes: @ushoppu said they wanted some Killer fics to help through studies. He is such a supportive blorbo, and everyone deserves a Killer watchdog to guard their valuable study time.

Tag list: @sordidmusings @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @writingmysanity @indydonuts @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @carrotsunshine @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training

The silence reverberating in your room had a subtle ring of tinnitus echoing in your eardrum. It was quiet. Too quiet. The most quiet it had ever been in all your time traveling and serving beneath Eustass Kid and his unruly crew. 

Never one to give up on your dreams, no matter where the vessel drew you towards, you took to earning your merit and continued to study despite your career in piracy. As your intensives drew all the closer, to say you were stressed was a gross understatement. 

The crew was loud, their ruckus was boisterous and unhinged, and there was no way you could ever aim to complete your final timed report over Den-Den with your assessor aboard the Victoria Punk. At least, that was what you thought. A call of your full name and title through the mouthpiece of the snail drew back your attention. 

“Are you still with me?” the voice called, snapping you back to reality, “You have another fifteen minutes for the final assessment. Do you require more time?” Drawing your eyes back to the page, you noticed your penmanship and calligraphy was almost completely concluded. All you had to do was flicker through your notepaper and cite your references, and your assessment was completed. 

“I can get it done in ten,” you smirked to yourself, the snicker through the mouthpiece from your assessor was emitted in response to your confession. 

“Well then,” the smirk they were wearing was depicted in their tone, “Make my day. Get it done, you've got this.” You hummed, steadily locating all of your quotes, highlighting your final masterpiece and running over your paper for any grammatical errors and spelling mistakes. As the clock’s minutes ticked over, you huffed out a sharp exhale and nodded at the snail’s eye lenses. 

“It’s done, stop the clock,” you smiled, presenting your sheet up to the snail's face for your assessor to shutter the final flicker over your page. You hum enthusiastically, turning through the pages and allowing a moment for several flickers to resound before removing them completely. 

“You’ve done well for so little time,” they praise you, their voice distorted in the crackled hum of the den-den speaker. “Especially considering the captain you sail under.” You huff, scoffing at the transmitter end of the speaker and glaring into the glaring lens. 

“Who I serve and sail with is none of your business,” you snarl into the snail, your aura turning dangerous and resolve dark and unwavering, “All that should matter to you is the merit of my marks, and quality of my work. That was our agreement, was it not?” The voice chuckles into the snail, the crackling voice reassuring you with a soft hum. 

“Of course. All I was saying is your companions have been awfully quiet during your intensive. I feel like the silence aided the quality of your work,” they relay on you, the rustling of printing paper and clinking of several pens retracting from a ceramic bowl over their desk while adding, “I will assess your etchings and research here and get it back with your final tally. Dismissed, and good job."

The click and muffled silence had you exhale in relief, slinking back into your chair and releasing a breath you didn't know you were carrying. The gentle rock and sway of the ship had you more at ease as you rose and fell your breath with each softening swell. Closing your eyes, you focussed on the sounds of crashing waves meeting the wooden hull, and noticing the absence of your captain's barking roars, and your crew's daily spats and roughhousing. 

Silence, the encumbering depths of uncomfortable unfamiliarity. Reopening your eyes, you furrow your brows as the silence grows more intense. Finally plagued by the bewilderment enough, your curiosity needed to be sated and you could no longer tolerate the unknown. 

Removing yourself from your chair, you cast the wood backwards and hastily stalked towards your door and flung it wide enough to indent the knob in the door beside it. 

“Why is everyone so fucking quiet?” you yell into the wooden hallway, your agitation and disdain for the silence forming in a rough grimace. 

“And here I thought you'd thank me for it,” you yelped in shock, jumping as you snapped your head over to the voice and gruff cough. Reclining beside your door, arms folded and feet outstretched on the hallway wall in front of him, his dual sythes lay beside him and itching to be claimed in his hands. 

His mask lay bobbed and downturned, his shoulders squared but his back arched in a concave atop the all-too-small stool beside the wall. Your lips parted as you attempted to reign in your grin. 

“You're keeping everyone quiet?” You gasp back your shock, gently reaching down and giving his shoulder a gentle nudge, “What made you decide to do that?” He gruffly grunts back his displeasure at the gruff motion, shrugging off your movement and seeming to pout with his biceps curling ever tighter.

“I enjoy being your watchdog,” he mocks his tone, shimmying his shoulders with pride at such a title, “Guarding you as you study, given what happened last time with your Den-Den presentation, has been my top priority.” He stands from his recline hastily, his hulking form immediately towering over your smaller stature. 

“It's true, Bubblegum’s shanties are still the talk of the lecture hall,” you give a gentle nod, smiling up at him while he steps all the closer to you. “I can still hear the chorus in my mind each time I try to recite my finals. I'm glad to have such a killer watchdog in you. But why do it?”

Slowly reaching for your chin with his scarred left hand, he steadies your face with his index finger and thumb while stooping over you. Drawing his mask all the closer to you, you could feel the whisper on his tongue before a sound was ever truly made. 

“I want to see you thrive,” his voice held sincerity and a gentle, soothing hum, “You’re the best of us, and we're all so, so,” he leaned in further, the blue of his eyes shining and glimmering between the circular holes, “Proud of you. I'm proud of you.”

You felt your breath stolen from you, as your eyes darting over the divots and indents within his mask. He held you captive, your lips parting within each moment he drew you up to him. 

As you stepped up to your toes in an attempt to make your distance close further, the sound of your crackling Den-Den printing immediately drew your attention away and back to your desk. Spinning on your heels, you sprinted to your desk and immediately clutched the papers in your hands. 

“I-... I-...” your eyes scanned the papers, darting over the page and noticing your final grade marked and annotated in bold. Your hands shook and shuddered the page, prompting a steady hand to cradle your arm from his presence behind you. 

“You…?” he whispered behind you, gently coaxing you to steady your hand, “You, what? How did you do?” 

“I did it,” you whispered, reaching up and clapping your hand over your lip to stifle your glee. Turning in his arms, you shriek your glee up at him, “Kil, I did it! I did it! I passed the- Kil, put me down!” 

Immediately hoisting you up over his shoulder, he stomped with heavy footsteps out of your room, your eyes wide with horror and shock as he chaperoned you like a sack of flour easily over his body. Marching upwards, you finally made it to the deck, glancing at the retreating darkened hallway beneath the stairs. 

“We got a pass!” Killer’s voice bellowed with glee in his tone, cheering your name in a hefty boom, prompting the crew to join him in celebrating your accomplishment. He spun you, earning a shriek from your chest as he twirled you so easily on his shoulders before grappling your waist and pinning you facing against his broad chest in a warm embrace. 

“That mean we can fuckin' speak now, Kil?” The captain bellowed in a gruff snarl, “Not gonna withhold our rations anymore? Gonna stop treatin’ us like children?” 

“You were going to withhold rations, Kil?” you slapped him in the chest with a soft pout on your features, “Why would you do that, big guy?”

“To ensure you had every opportunity to do your best,” he uttered nonchalantly, a soft shrug in his tone and a hidden smile on his lips, “And it paid off, didn't it?” Your heart began to flutter and flood your chest with a warmth unmatched. You offered a soft smile as your eyes began to glaze over. 

“Oh Kil, I could just kiss you right now-,” you began, your voice being cut immediately by a bark from your captain go break your attention away. 

“-Yeah, yeah. Food now, big guy. Hungry,” Kid brushed aside your moment together and marched over to your side, “Take our little scholar with you down there. Have ‘em in the kitchen with you for all I care. As long as I get some barbeque, I don't give a fuck. Food. Now.”

Both chuckling, Killer switched you to cradle his arms behind your knees and around your shoulders to make you more comfortable in his arms. 

“Alright, little scholar,” Killer whispered huskily into your ear, gently escorting you below deck, “Come put your hands and mouth to good use. You get first bite for being such a clever little scholar.” 

His rumbled purr rose peaks of goose flesh on your neck, your heart palpitating with each spurred moment. You attempted to stifle your nerves and gulp back your rising fluster. 

“Only if it's from your fork, big guy,” you flutter your eyelashes and feel the tense swell of his broad arms tighten their hold on you. 

He coughed his nerves back behind his mask, finally reaching the kitchens and placing you down on the stool at the kitchen island before walking to the other side of the island and beginning to ready the meal preparation for the crew. 

“You just sit right there,” he purred at you, gathering tongues, forks and several pots and grilling plates, “Be my muse, clever little scholar. Let me make you a reward.”

“Watching you work is all the reward I need, big guy,” you quirk back at him, leaning forward on the bench and slowly raking your eyes over his figure and watching him prepare the flames and fires. 

Killer attempted to stifle his soft, nervous giggle behind his lips to now avail, but he was ever thankful to have his blush hidden behind his blue and white mask. He couldn't wait to grant you a sample of the meal he'd been marinating for two days just for this occasion.

He would do anything to earn him that sultry and possessive gaze, alongside that smile he had come to pine for. The willingness to guard you as you worked stemmed from the fact that he was truly and deeply infatuated with you, and hoped you might be willing to reciprocate his affections eventually.

If not his stance as your noble knight clad in mask and leather, then perhaps his cuisine could grant him that final push to earn a more intimate look from you. For now, he could settle for flexing his muscles as he prepared your meal, and watching that hunger grow in your eyes for not only his barbeque, but for Killer himself.

[league-of-sam]

Don't Be Shy | Konig x Reader

Kӧnig x TF141 x AFAB!Reader

PART ONE

Summary: Transferred against your will to a new task force to calm a troubled soldier, you felt way in over your head - especially when you came face to face with a 6'10" mountain of Austria. 18+ MINORS DNI! t.w // angst, mental health, language, violence, human trafficking, death, sexual themes/SMUT, military inaccuracies, language inaccuracies (google translate).

2 / 3 / 4 / 5

You'd been the new kid on the block, over and over again.

Late to training, late into the 141, and now, late into Task Force KorTac with a very special, and very specific mission.

A mission that was built for you.

A mission that required the utmost professionalism.

A mission that required somehow pulling a 6’10” brick shithouse out of his own head and into a team - but you didn’t know that, yet.

Oh, and fuck, did you protest it. Over and over and over again. It had taken you months to settle with the 141 boys, and now you were being shipped off, away from your family.

“You’re really good at that, uh, the empathy shit.” Price had said, placing a warming hand on your shoulder.

“I’m a soldier, Price. And you know how much I struggle around new people.” You spoke, the latter half of the sentence said in a hushed tone.

“Yes, but you’re good at, ya know, feeling." He replied, fingers lifted to place air quotes around the word, "You got Ghost to come out of his shell!”

At that moment, your lieutenant entered the room, making his way over at the mention of his callsign.

You rolled your eyes, “Okay, so send him! Lord knows he needs the practise.”

“Watch ya mouth, little one.” Ghost said, stepping next to you.

“Just because you’re a foot taller than me does not mean you get to bully me for it, Simon.”

Despite what people thought about the giant, skull-mask-wearing man, he was soft and caring; the relationship you had built together was that of siblings, and he had your back more than any ordinary brother would.

Ghost’s eyes were dark under his mask, but you knew he was smirking, “Not my fault you’re a short arse.”

“Yet I’m still a better sniper than you.”

“No, you bloody well aren’t-”

“Children! Please…” Price interrupted the sibling-like bickering; fingers pinched on the bridge of his nose. “If we could focus on the task at hand?”

Ghost poked your side, mumbling, “Yeah, (Y/L/N), focus on your task.”

“Go have Soap suck your dick some more, sounds like you need to relax.” You mumbled back.

Your retort had Ghost choking, the sharp intake of air he made as his head whipped to look at you causing him to cough relentlessly. Price shook his head, waving him off to sort himself out.

It wasn’t exactly a secret within the team that there was something a little less savoury going on with your lieutenant and Sergeant MacTavish, especially when the latter would constantly confide in you about his crush.

Especially, after what had happened with Hassan and the missiles.

But, thanks to your meddling, you had been able to get Ghost to open up, and it seemed like the two were much happier.

Not that you’d dare make a comment about it in front of anyone but Price and Ghost himself.

You valued your life, thank you very much.

And as much as Ghost loved you like a sister; he would absolutely kill you.

As Ghost walked away, you shot him the sweetest smile you could muster, resulting in him throwing you the finger.

“Look, you’re the only one I think can get through to him, kid. The task force needs you.” Price continued.

“I applied to be here, sir. I worked damn hard to make it onto the 141.”

He sat you down, taking your hands in his, “This isn’t permanent. I promise, we’ll be here waiting when ya get back, because I want to work with this guy. He’s bloody good, so I need you to make sure he can play well with others."

You sighed heavily, the weight of responsibility and leaving your family crushing your shoulders, "And you are my best sniper., Karma.”

Price had whispered that last part, for your ears only, a smirk across his bearded lips. You smiled widely, a giggle falling from your mouth.

It felt good to get that recognition from your superior.

He wasn’t wrong; the reason you made it onto the 141 in the first place was your incredible skill as a marksman…well, markswoman. You’d earned the call sign Karma from Soap, who watched you in a training drill he ran.

You’d been perched up high, completely hidden, and any enemy that your team missed in combat, you cleaned up, never missing a shot. Like the saying goes, if you can’t get ‘em, karma will.

It was also suitable for those who underestimated you. Every person you’d gone up against in hand-to-hand training doubted your abilities due to your smaller frame, but fuck, did you prove them wrong every time.

Broken noses here.

Fractured limbs there.

You were Karma, and no one messed with you.

“So, think you can do this for me?” Price said.

“Affirmative, sir.”

“That’s my girl.”

With that, you walked, albeit with a little sadness, back to your quarters, packing a duffle of your things. Price had said you’d only be away for a couple of months tops, depending on how the mission went.

At the car, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and the rest of the 141 were there to say goodbye, all of them giving you a squeeze as they wrapped you in their arms.

“You be good, alright?” Ghost had whispered in your ear, “See you when ya come home.”

“It almost sounds like you’re gonna miss me, Lt.” You quipped, and he rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure you’d like to believe that.”

“He’ll miss ye, bonnie.” Soap cut in, lifting you off the ground, “As will I. Don’t forget me in the excitement of the big bad KorTac boys, will ya?”

“I could never, Soap. You’re my number one!”

With one final wave and various counts of love you’s, you were stuffed into the car with Price and Laswell, the two of them escorting you personally.

Your heart hung low as your team got smaller and smaller behind you, but you were honoured to have been sought out by another team.

KorTac.

Didn’t quite have the same ring to it as 141, but it’d do.

The journey was short from the training camp in London, as you were dropped off at Heathrow, where a private chopper awaited you. From there, you were shipped off to a covert facility in the mountains of Hungary.

The scenery was beautiful, but your nerves bubbled up inside you.

With a silent nudge from the pilot, you were shoved out of the chopper, greeted by several members of your new team.

“Sergeant (Y/L/N), yes?” the man said, a heavy Hungarian accent lacing his words.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me. Sergeant (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You stuck your hand out, “But you can call me Karma, whatever suits.”

“Fender.” the man said, shaking your hand, “I run things here at KorTac. This is my second in command, Roze.”

A woman stepped forward from behind him, also taking your hand in hers, “We’re honoured to have you here, Karma. Heard a lot about you.”

“Well, I’m honoured that you guys wanted me.”

The pleasantries continued until you were being guided to their facilities, being allowed to drop off your bags before rushing to the tactical room, where the rest of the team was waiting for your arrival.

You were introduced swiftly, barely remembering anyone’s names before you were guided once again to another place, ending up in Fender’s office. He offered you a seat, sitting opposite at his desk.

“So, what exactly did Captain Price tell you of your purpose here?”

“Not a lot, really. He mentioned that I was needed because you have a soldier here that needs…help? And that there was a mission coming that required my particular skill.”

“Ahh, yes. That would be Kӧnig…” he sighed, pulling out a file and dropping it in front of you.

You opened the file, to find a picture of a man, a sniper hood that you recognised adorning his face. Scanning the information, you found that he was Austrian, joining the task force here through the KSK, basically being used as a front man for the teams on-ground.

“Kӧnig has…issues. He came here wanting to be a sniper, but, as you’ll see when you meet him, his physical attributes do not allow it. He didn’t take that well, but he excels as part of the contact team.”

“So, what exactly is the problem?”

Fender sighed, leaning forward in his chair, “He seems to have some problems with anxiety. I was informed that you used to suffer with such issues but were able to overcome them.”

You scoffed a little, “So, I’m here to be a glorified babysitter?”

You felt bad for this Kӧnig.

You couldn’t imagine wanting nothing more than to be a sniper and then have it taken away from you because of your physicality.

That would fucking suck.

“We just need someone to calm him, teach him control. A lot of the other team members are so scared of him they can barely stand being in the same room.”

“Arseholes…” you whispered under your breath, “That’s hardly fair, sir. By the looks of things, he is an essential member of this team.”

“That maybe so, but I can’t have my soldiers acting that way off the field. Unfortunately, if you cannot help him, he will no longer be welcome on any task force.”

You shook your head in disbelief.

How fucking unfair.

Before you could say anything, the office door opened. You stood to greet Roze but gasped slightly at the giant shadow behind her.

Stood in front of you, was a complete mountain of a man.

He had to duck down considerably to make it through the doorframe. Every single inch of him was huge. Ghost used to make you feel intimidated and tiny, but this…this was fucking ridiculous. Kӧnig had to have been at least 6’10”, and the size of his muscles would put both Ghost and Soap to shame.

Truly, this was a big, big man.

Oh, you thought, the sniper hood stayed on?

“Ah, Kӧnig, there you are. Thank you, Roze, you may go.”

“Sir.” She nodded, smiling to you before leaving the room and shutting it behind her.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” Kӧnig spoke, barely sparing you a glance as he addressed his superior. A thick accent tainted his English, but he was well-spoken.

Fender stood, moving around the desk to the two of you, “Yes. This is Karma, she’s the new addition to the team, and will be your new…partner, as such.”

“Uh, p-partner, sir?”

Fender nodded.

“Hi.” You spoke, a soft smile on your features as you stuck out your hand for him to shake. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N), but you can call me (Y/N/N), or Karma, whatever you like really.”

Your hands shook from nervousness as you rambled on.

New people always made you anxious, but this…this was intense.

Was it the accent?

The sheer size of him?

You couldn’t tell if you were intimidated, anxious, or frankly, maybe even a little turned on.

“Kӧnig.” He grunted but refused to meet your hand.

It hung in the air for an embarrassing amount of time, causing you to clear your throat as you lowered it, heat rising to your cheeks.

Yeah, this guy’s people skills were shite.

“Uh, right. Pleasure to meet you.” You finally said in an effort to shake off the awkwardness.

With that, Fender led the two of you back out, and towards the training centre. As you passed various soldiers, many of them looked to you, whispering.

By now, stares and such were just water off a duck’s back for you. Being part of the infamous 141 always brought a lot of unwanted attention. But that didn’t mean it didn’t make you uncomfortable, nonetheless.

Kӧnig, on the other hand, walked slightly behind you and Fender, his eyes not leaving the back of your body. He was used to the stares and whispers, the team never failing to make him feel like a freak of nature on the daily.

But he didn’t care at this moment.

He was fascinated by you.

The bright pink slivers of colour that peaked out from beneath the rest of your hair intrigued him; he was sure that went against regulation. You were also so sweet and tiny, the sniper rifle strapped to your back was almost as big as you were.

So, you were a sniper.

Why the fuck would Fender pair him with a sniper? Like he didn’t get mocked enough!

And now here you were, walking around with your head held high, like you fucking owned the place.

His own personal fucking babysitter.

The more he looked at you, the more his heart filled with rage, gloved fists balling at his sides.

[nyxlaufeyson]

Mad Happiness

Loki Oneshot Masterlist - Main Masterlist

POV: Second

Ship: Loki x Reader

Type: Fluff + Angst

Wordcount: 1,290

Synopsis: Your parents are dead set on having you marry Thor, and forbid you from seeing Loki until they realize you and Thor won't work out.

A/N: This is for @little-diables 15k celebration contest! This fic uses a Hamlet quote which will be in bold and italics.

You paced the room, counting every step and taking calculated breaths. Isabelle, your handmaid, had gone to check the mail. You and Loki were banished from seeing each other, but that wouldn’t stop your communication. 

Isabelle walked in, and you rushed over to her. In her hands lay a golden envelope with the royal stamp. You kissed her on the cheek. “Thank you, thank you Isabelle!” 

She simply nodded. While Isabelle was not keen on your insistence to remain in touch with Loki, she could tell that the two of you were madly in love. She loved you like a mother, and wanted to see you happy.

You sat down at your desk, carefully opening the envelope with a letter opener so as not to rip it. The paper inside smelled of tea leaves and your prince. You unfolded it, holding your breath as you began to read.

My Dearest Flower,  It shall not be long until I hear your laugh again. Thor has managed to bring his mortal to Asgard, and Frigga is convincing Odin that they should give the couple their blessing. Once that is done, your parents will be forced to give up on the prospect of you and Thor. His love, Jane, is an interesting individual. I believe you will like her. Remind Isabelle that I am deeply indebted to her for delivering these letters. I feel mad enough as it is without seeing you, if I had no communication at all I would surely die.  Yours forever, Loki

You made your way to your bed with the letter still in hand, laying down on your back. Isabelle watched you blush and smile at the ceiling as she moved to get you ready for bed. 

His love was something you could hold onto, even after your parents forbid you from meeting with him. Isabelle stood at the foot of your bed, trying to get your attention away from the sparkling daydreams that filled your head. 

With a wave of her hand, you came back to the room and gave her a soft smile. “Oh! Loki sends his thanks. He says he is ‘deeply indebted’ to you.” 

Isabelle chuckled. “Smooth talker, that one is. You better keep an eye out for lies.” She talked like she believed Loki to be the dark prince of lies. However, she sensed that he would never lie to you.

You let her help you up, still dazing. “I love him.” You whispered, and she sighed, taking your hand and walking you over to the bath. 

“I know.” She said simply, undoing the strings on your clothes and helping you step into the warm bathwater. 

As she scrubbed you, your mind wandered to the first time you told your parents about your love for Loki. They had looked at you indecorously, calling you mad.

“You're young, you don’t know what you want. You don’t know what’s best for you.” Your mother said.

“We are the only ones looking out for your future, and you repay us with these childish feelings?” Your father asked, shaking his head. “Absolute madness.”

They had already been quite upset, but you made it worse with your reply. “Aren’t we all a little mad? What is love if not madness?”

Your father slammed his fist on the table, dismissing your words. “That’s enough. Go to your room.” You began to protest, but it fell on deaf ears and you were forced to retire for the night into your room.

Even now, with Thor clearly in love with another, they did not give up on trying to get you in wedlock with the crowned prince. No matter how many times you declared that you loved Loki. It didn’t matter that he was still a prince, it wasn’t good enough for them.

They called your love for each other immature. They said that you weren’t thinking clearly, and had tried several times to snap you out of your ‘trance.’They declared your love to be out of a delirious high of happiness that made you throw all of your common sense out the window. 

You couldn’t care less what your parents thought about you and Loki. You had never wanted to marry Thor anyway. Although he was a total sweetheart, he didn’t have your heart. And you didn’t have his. Thor fell for a Midguardian girl that he met during his brief banishment to Midgard.

It wouldn’t be long until your parents would be forced to accept reality. Once Thor and Jane were married, it would all be okay. You just had to hold on a little bit longer.

~~~~~

A sob burst out from downstairs. It was your mother. You rushed downstairs, finding your mother crying on your father’s shoulder. In his hand was a letter, an envelope with the royal stamp laying open beside him. 

A grin spread across your face, despite your better judgment. You quickly smothered it, not wanting to further upset your parents.

“What’s all the fuss about?” You asked, walking over to them. Of course, you could easily tell that the letter they just opened announced Thor’s wedding with another.

Your mother barely could stop her cries to talk to you. “We-” She managed to choke out. “We have received a royal wedding invitation.”

You let yourself genuinely smile. “That’s wonderful.” You said. Your father scowled at you, although he was not surprised in the least. 

“Now what are we going to do! Our daughter will never become royalty!” You refrained from rolling your eyes.

Walking over to your mother, you took her hand in yours. “Mother, I believe you are mistaken. Remember how there are two princes?” You asked, and she glared at you.

She shook her head, frowning. “Loki does not have the reputation that Thor does, and he will tarnish your-and our-reputation.” 

“Mother, please. Reputation or not, I still love him, and he loves me. Why can’t you see that? Shouldn’t you want nothing but joy for your daughter? He brings me happiness! A happiness that often madness hits on, which reason and sanity could not so prosperously be delivered of. Deprive me of this mad happiness and I will not be able to function. I may be mad now, but you have not seen the least of just how mad I could be without my beloved.”

Your parents stood silent, stunned by your words. The clearing of Isabelle’s throat made you turn around to find her standing with a gaping Loki. You curtsied, and facing you, Loki recollected himself and regarded your parents. 

They ignored him, much to your dismay, so you turned around to scowl at them. They seemed to recollect their senses and bowed.

Loki gave them a tight smile. “I have come to ask of you to join me as my date to the royal wedding. If that is alright with your parents.” He knew they wouldn’t say no. They couldn’t.

Your father sighed, having weighed his options. Although Loki wasn’t the perfect individual for you, he would have to work now that Thor was off the table. Plus, you were right, he was still a prince. Second in line to the throne, which wasn’t completely undesirable. “Of course, your highness, we approve. Isabelle, how about you fetch some tea for our guest?” 

Isabelle rushed off to get some tea, and your parents left you alone. Loki slowly walked up to you, looking you in the eyes. It took every ounce of self control that you had to not immediately run into his arms and kiss him. “My love.” 

“My prince.” You breathed, and he took your hand and kissed it. You dropped your self control, removed your hand from his lips, and smashed your lips onto his.

TAGS: (Comment or inbox me to be added/removed; along with what to be tagged for): @michief-dream @iceeericeee

[demigoddessqueens]

Master List 10

Tieflings 💕

Types of hugs

SFW REQUESTS/WRITING

Dragon Age - a fainting Hawke //

House of the Dragon/Game of Thrones - aemond + touch/massage prompt //

Delicious in Dungeon 🍱/Dungeon Meshi 🥘 - soft Laios headcanons //

Fallout - ghoul meme // i REALLY like him //

Ultraman rising - kenji sato fluff //

Dune - nsfw & romance // incorrect quotes //

Monkey Man - “Whispered Corners” fic //

The Arcana ✨- waking up with the main 6 // pirate Julian - heartbreak // massage headcanons // julian birthday headcanons //

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss - taking care of you // Lucifer SFW Alphabet // valentines 💘 with Lucifer // Lucifer + s/o with depression // massage headcanons //

Marvel

Spiderman 2099/Miguel O’Hara - massage headcanons

Critical Role 🎲

Vox Machina - special rock // poison?! // Vax 💔 oneshot // feeble mind spell // Percy rescues kidnapped reader // time ⏰ traveler reader // sit in my lap?// Vax + pregnant!reader //

Music 🎶 - Lunch ft the girls //

Dark Au - Orin!reader

Mighty Nein - Beau + sibling!reader // Mollymauk w/ reader // Caleb song angst // fjord song oneshot //

Crown Keepers -

Bell’s Hells - the “I love you” prompt //

Castlevania 🌙- massage headcanons // surprise kiss Dracula // do’s and dont’s - Alucard, Isaac //

Castlevania Nocturne 🌙 🦇 - massage headcanons // richter + pregnant!reader // shy kisses // “from bottom of your heart” + bg3

Assassin’s Creed - being Aveline’s sibling // shay for valentines 💘 // stealing Haytham’s coat // love languages // Basim + reader // Ezio + artist!reader // Haytham and Shay + former!Assassin // friends to lovers w/ Ezio // massage headcanons // shay + reader // Basim angst // Basim + fluff // Hytham in love // protective of pregnant!reader // Ezio modern au // basim angst oneshot // Connor with Latina!reader // Ezio birthday 🎂 headcanons // local hawk population //

Codexmonthly - February “ship” —> Shay story // Edward 🏴‍☠️ story // Altair & Maria //

March “artefact”

April “vault”

May “modern”

Mermay 🌊🧜‍♂️ - mermaid!Desmond //

“Shadows” prompt

June “mentor”

Baldur’s Gate - astarion + drunk!tav/reader // Halsin and letters // smile from your heart // sick 🤒 TLC headcanons // massage headcanons // interlink pinkies // astarion & his opposite // deep kisses // forehead kiss // secret 🤫 dating Astarion // how lucky to be with you //

Bat 🦇 Astarion Week - day 1 // day 2 // day3 // day 4 // day 5 //

Blood of Zeus ⚡️ - massage headcanons // musical mortal // Ares and handsy lover // Dad Apollo ☀️// Hermes being a dad //

Genshin Impact - neuvillette massage //

Star ⭐️ Wars 💫 - sequel quad + saving sibling // sibling with depression // nightmare headcanons // coming out non-binary //

The Bad Batch - crosshair headcanon //

NSFW REQUESTS/WRITING

Hazbin Hotel - Lucifer alphabet //

Challengers - art + patrick nsfw headcanons //

Critical 🎲 Role - service top + mighty 9 //

[flowerandblood]

The Impossible Choice (30)

[ Aemond • Targaryen x Baratheon! • female ]

[ warnings: fingering, smut, angst, violence, wounds descriptions, war victims ]

[description: Aemond comes to Storm’s End to choose his future consort. However, Lord Borros Baratheon presents him with only four of his five daughters. Being attached to his youngest child, he does not want to marry her. The prince, however, thwarts his and her plans with his decision. This is slow burn, with a lot of dark angst and sexual tension. (Anon Request)]

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Previous and next chapters: Masterlist

______

The sound of the words Alys spoke rang in her ears like a bell, making her heart pound. She didn't understand what she meant, but after she quoted Helaena's prophecy, she couldn't help but recognise that she must have known something.

It means that your husband is not going to die.

Why should he die?

Would war break out in earnest?

She felt like asking her a hundreds of questions, not even paying attention to the fact that she was touching her cheek in a way that was not befitting even her maid, let alone a stranger.

Before she had time to say anything, however, she heard her husband's impatient, commanding voice telling her to approach him.

She stood up at once, ashamed of what she had done and of seeing her in such a state, all dirty from blood, dust and smoke. She ran up to him quickly, her heart began to pound like mad when she noticed that he was wearing an armour.

Something had happened.

"What is the meaning of this? Shall I order her hand cut off for this boldness, and lock you in my chamber?" He asked impatient and angry; she pressed her lips together, looking at him pleadingly, not even knowing how to explain the sight he found.

"No, my husband." She whispered softly, meekly. She saw that something in his gaze had changed, his stare had gone from aggressive to dark.

She knew that he was dishevelled.

She drew in a loud breath as he grabbed her neck suddenly, his gesture of domination towards her, of forcing her to submit to him. He softened the brutality of the gesture by pressing his nose to her soft cheek, completely surprising her with his desire for closeness, shown so shamelessly in front of everyone.

She felt something hanging in the air.

"Did something happen? When are you coming back?" She asked uncertainly, terrified of his condition.

She felt his accelerated breathing, his face pressed against hers as if he wanted to melt into her, to take refuge deep within her.

"There is an army coming towards us from the South, moved by the ships of Colrys Velaryon. We must face it. I have sent messengers to my brother and your father. Until then, I will protect us from the sky." He whispered, she heard his voice tremble.

There is an army coming towards us from the South, moved by the ships of Colrys Velaryon.

Up to this point, despite knowing that they were at war with his half-sister, neither side had made any tactically important military moves. Now, however, the pawns were beginning to move − they were in danger, and her husband was about to head his army.

She looked around out and found with a squeezed heart that they had no chance in an open clash − her father and brother were constantly conversing with her about war techniques, about creating an advantage on the battlefield.

They were surrounded by forests from all sides, enemy soldiers could easily hide in them and create ambushes − she thought that if her father did not arrive in time, there would be nothing left of them.

"Take me with you." She whispered in a trembling voice feeling tears in her eyes.

She did not want him to have to face this horrific sight alone, to bear the burden of the murder and death that he would have to carry on his own people alone.

She heard him draw in air, his hand tightened around her neck, his moist lips pressed tenderly to her cheek.

"I can't." He said heartbroken and let her go, turning away.

She wanted to run after him, to beg him, but she knew she couldn't.

She watched, feeling her warm tears run down her cheeks as he disappeared among the trees with a troop of guards, heading for the hill where Vhagar lair was located. She saw shortly afterwards how this large creature take to the skies and disappear on the horizon.

It means that your husband is not going to die.

He's not going to die, she thought with hope.

He's not going to die.

She heard the rustling of cloth behind her. She turned, spotting Alys Rivers behind her.

"Have faith, my Lady. He will come back." She said lowly, with such tremendous calm that for some reason she believed her.

She wanted to believe her.

He's not going to die.

To occupy her thoughts with something else, they went back to treating the wounded. Once in a while she looked high into the sky, praying to the Seven to protect him with their grace − she watched as a detachment of their troops gathered in front of the fortress, to prepare to attack the rebels hidden in the forest.

She shuddered when she heard a loud roar; she thought with joy that it was him, that he had succeeded, that he had returned.

That he had only flown to assess the situation and she would see him again soon.

She furrowed her brow when she spotted the dragon, but it did not look like Vhagar.

It was not Vhagar.

"Alys!" She screamed to her, though she didn't know why or for what reason. She felt her heart pounding, her mind wracked with terror.

Some other dragon was heading towards them.

They were about to all burn.

"My Lady, run! Hurry, into the forest!" She shouted, standing up suddenly, wanting to run to her from the other part of the courtyard, but it was too late. As the great red dragon in the sky opened its maw, she only managed to cover her head with her hands and curl up into a ball.

She screamed out loud as she felt the fire burning her, the pain was so indescribable that she lost the ability to think and speak − she felt her skin and clothes burn and she cried out loudly, hundreds of similar sounds all around her screaming in agony.

As the dragon flew over she felt someone put a cloak over her, the flames consuming her body extinguished by the lack of air.

She felt someone violently grab her arm which was burning so painfully, and she screamed in pain, unable to rise from her knees.

"My Lady, we have to get out of here, please!" Exclaimed Alys, apparently standing far enough away from the first flame, because apart from the scratches and dust on her face nothing happened to her. She threw her injured arm across her neck and they both headed as far away from the fortress as possible, panting heavily.

They heard the dragon breathe fire once more, this time from the other side of the stronghold, the flames and red lit up the dark night. They fell by the edge of the forest, panting heavily, watching as everything around them burned.

They had nowhere to run to.

They could only pray that whoever was doing this would only focus on the troops at the keep.

She shuddered as she saw a great dragon fly over them like a mighty gale, lashing towards the one that had attacked them, but the other one was smaller, faster and more agile, Vhagar could not keep up.

She squealed loudly as Alys leaned over her shoulder, touching her wound. She noticed, looking down at herself that the wound stretched across her arm, parts of her chest, lower abdomen and the leg with which she was turned towards the flames, her epidermis burned to living flesh.

"Your garments have melted into your skin. I need to clean the wound, my Lady." She said quickly, her voice trembling.

Clearly, despite her skill, she had not anticipated all this.

She screamed loudly, almost howling in pain as Alys poured some kind of disinfectant substance over her wounds that felt like it was about to separate her muscles from her bones.

Alys took the bottle out of her pocket, unscrewed the cork and handed it to her, panting heavily.

"Drink, it's poppy milk. It will hurt." She said quickly.

It could have been poison, it could have been anything, but she drank the entire contents, deciding that anything was better than the excruciating pain she now felt. She thought with despair, watching her husband struggling in the skies, that she wasn't sure either of them would survive it.

And then everything began to slowly blur, the sounds and screams around her became less and less clear until darkness followed.

She was awakened by someone's tender touch; she could hear a multitude of men's voices, the sounds of steel and a fire burning, and conversations somewhere in the distance.

She felt the fresh air and thought that she was lying in the tent on the hunt that they had arrived for together with Royce and their father.

Royce sometimes stroked her head like this when she was little and was afraid to fall asleep alone.

She opened her eyes and smiled sleepily, seeing that she was indeed in the tent, the sun was setting outside and her brother was sitting on the bedding beside her.

She wanted to touch him with her hand, but hissed quietly when she tried to lift it and saw that it was in bandages all over. She furrowed her brow, having no complete memory of what had happened. Her brother kissed her forehead tenderly, sighing with immense relief.

"Praise be to Seven, you're awake!" He exclaimed, stroking her cheek with his wide hand. She looked around, still unsure of where she was.

"Where are we, brother?" She asked, looking up at him − only now did she realise that he was not sitting next to her in his normal attire, but in full armour. "What happened?"

"Prince Daemon burned Harrenhal and a large part of your husband's troops. Our father and I arrived with our army as soon as we knew that you were here." He growled, squeezing her fingers in his.

Her hand admittedly looked normal, but the whole left side of her body from her arm, through her shoulder to her knee was burning mercilessly and itching.

She began to breathe faster, looking at him in disbelief.

It was Prince Daemon.

He was the one who had flown in to burn them.

He had flown in to claim what was rightfully his wife's.

"What about my husband?" She asked quickly, and her brother nodded reassuringly.

"He survived. He is at a council with our father. We are waiting for their orders." He said calmly. She widened her eyes, feeling her heart pounding.

A real war had been unleashed.

"Nevertheless, I should kill him for bringing you here and putting you through all this. Now he pretends to be a caring husband, sitting by you at night, treating your wounds. He lost the battle and endangered you, so he is in disfavour with our father." He snorted, rolling his eyes impatiently. She looked at him, parting her lips in shock.

He sits by your side at night and treats your wounds.

He could see how awful it was.

He could see what her body looked like now.

He would never desire her again, but guilt and devotion would make him stand by her.

Her brother's voice snapped her out of her reverie.

"I'll order to serve you something to eat, you must be hungry. Lie down and rest." He said briskly as he kissed her forehead, then stood up with a clang of steel and walked outside.

She breathed quietly, analysing everything that had happened.

Her father had joined the war because of her.

Although on the one hand she was glad that her husband would not be left to fend for himself, on the other she felt remorse that she had embroiled her family in the battle for the throne between the Targaryens.

That they might die on the battlefield for a drunkard and rapist king.

She sobbed quietly, feeling the overwhelming hopelessness caused by her condition and what was happening.

She shuddered as someone suddenly stepped into the tent − her husband stood before her in full armour, his face pale, his eye wide open.

He had bruises under his eyes as if he hadn't slept for several nights, his lips parted in shock.

He approached her quickly and knelt beside her bed, touching her cheek.

"How are you feeling?" He asked weakly, as if the sight of her, conscious and alive, made his throat tighten. She felt the same and swallowed with difficulty, looking up at him, his thumb rubbing the wet marks from her face.

"Good." She choked out, looking at him in horror.

He had seen her.

He saw what she would look like now.

She felt the tears rise up under her eyelids anew.

She knew it was trivial, that she should be glad that she had survived, that she was showing weakness, but she couldn't help feeling a stabbing pain in her heart at the thought of what she would look like from now on.

It seemed to her that he read her thoughts perfectly, as he pressed his lips together, looking at her in pain. She swallowed quietly as he suddenly lay on his side next to her, just looking at her, his hand rose to gently stroke her cheek a moment later − his lower lip trembled as if he wanted to say something but couldn't.

"− forgive me −" He whispered, a single tear running down from the corner of his eye directly onto the sand beneath his head. Seeing this she pressed her forehead against his, her fingers touching his face, making him sigh quietly.

They stared at each other for a moment, touching each other as lightly as if they were about to fall apart, the tip of his nose brushing hers once in a while.

She felt warmth, felt desire, felt pleading of her body for him to touch her, to tell her that he still craved her.

"− the gods have heard my prayers and kept you alive −" He whispered softly, combing his fingers through her soft hair. She felt warmth inside her heart at his words, at the thought that he had prayed for her, that he wanted her to stay with him.

He made a move towards her − his soft, moist lips barely brushed hers, already grasping her cheek in his hands, when her brother entered the tent.

Her husband immediately stepped back and grunted, rising, his expression again indifferent and tired. Royce measured him from top to bottom, coming towards her.

"I'll take care of it." He said, extending his hand to her brother, apparently wanting to help her with the meal. Her brother laughed at his words.

"Are you caring now? Where were you when she was on fire? Why do you and your drunken brother who hides in the Red Keep like a fucking cunt, always get away with everything, while my sister is disfigured for the rest of her life?" He hissed, losing his temper. Her husband looked at him menacingly, himself enraged by his words.

"Stop it." She said pleadingly, rising to sit down and hissed, feeling how much the burns on her stomach hurt.

"My wife is not disfigured, Lord Royce. Nothing can disfigure her, and the wounds she has sustained will eventually heal." He said with emphasis, and she felt her heart beat harder at his words.

She knew what he meant.

He didn't think it disfigured her as a woman, just as he didn't want her to think that the absence of his eye disfigured him as a man.

Royce snorted at his words, impatient and angry.

"All her life she will bear the scars of your stupidity. You lost an eye for your own, and that's not bothering me, but my sister doesn't have to suffer through your decisions." He said furiously, her husband's chest rising and falling in monstrous anger.

"Please!" She mumbled impatiently, for the third time since she woke up feeling like crying. "Enough already! Do you have anything else to say about my suffering, my scars and my body? I can see that you know best how I feel. Get out, I want to eat my soup alone." She said, reaching out her hand for a bowl. They both opened their mouths to say something.

"Get out!" She urged them, impatient and frustrated, wiping her nose and sobbing quietly, her outstretched hand trembling in the air.

Royce sighed heavily and set the bowl down beside her. He threw a warning look full of disapproval at her husband and left the tent.

Her husband looked at her, pressing his lips together, seeing how hard it was for her to move her left hand and pick it up. She almost spilled the contents of the bowl as she lifted it into the air, but managed to place it on her thighs.

"I won't leave." He said decisively, his gaze tired and discouraged. She felt a squeeze in her heart and hesitated for a moment.

"Where's Alys?" She asked, fiddling with the wooden spoon, pouring over the contents of the dish. His lips tightened at her words.

"She's treating the wounded. Shall I summon her?" He asked indifferently, and she shook her head. Her husband sighed quietly, coming up to her again, kneeling beside her.

"May I stay?" He asked softly, as if unable to get the words out. She lowered her gaze and nodded.

He sighed in relief as if some great burden had slept off his shoulders. While she ate, he summoned a servant to the tent to help him pull off his armour.

"How is the situation at the front?" She asked finally, glancing at him uncertainly. He pressed his lips together.

"We have combined part of Targaryen and Baratheon armies. For now, we wait to see what Daemon will do. We know his troops are stationed in the Eyrie, but since that battle he has not changed his position or moved to make another attack." He said and dismissed the boy as he was finally left in his linen shirt and plain black breeches.

He walked over to her, sitting down on the bedding, looking at her uncertainly. He lowered his gaze, looking down at his fingers.

"Can I sleep next to you?" He asked lowly, and she looked up at him, surprised. She didn't understand how he could ask such an obvious thing, but then it occurred to her that he thought she resented him now.

That she thought it was his fault that her body would bear the scars for the rest of her life.

That she thought that he had failed to protect her.

"Of course. Next to whom else could you sleep? Next to Alys?" She asked, raising an eyebrow, setting the bowl aside. She heard him sigh heavily, running his hand over his face.

"Have mercy on me. At least you." He muttered, and she stroked his arm. He looked at her surprised when he felt her hand's touch and swallowed loudly, immediately placing his palm on hers, brushing her skin steadily.

"Lie down, husband. Rest." She said softly and he hummed quietly, nodding, pulling his high black boots off his feet.

They both slipped under the bedclothes. He laid on his side next to her, so as not to inadvertently touch her wounds and cause her pain. He looked at her face and uncertainly put his hand on her shoulder.

He stared at her like that for a moment and then moved closer to her, cupping her cheeks in his hand. She sighed as his lips pressed against hers in a wet, warm kiss, pulling away with a sticky click. He did it again and again, deepening the kiss, running his nose over her soft face, the tip of his tongue teasing her, sliding lightly into her mouth.

She moaned softly, desperate and thirsty for his touch − they both began to pant, her hands clenched on his chemise as she felt his hand on her healthy thigh, his fingers tentatively sliding down towards her swollen womanhood.

"− does it hurt? −" He asked in a low, trembling voice, brushing her lips with his, panting along with her.

"− no −" She whispered, reciprocating his every kiss, drawing him close. He murmured lowly at her words, his hand sliding down more boldly, putting aside the material of her nightgown, sinking his fingers into her warm, plushy folds.

They both moaned into each other's mouths, surprised by the pleasure of the sensation. Unable to restrain himself, his hand began to tease her puffy bud with circular, slow strokes, once in a while running over her swollen slit. She arched her back, despite the discomfort and burning parts of her body, she wanted and needed this.

To feel that he still wanted her.

"− do you want this? −" He exhaled between sticky, perverted kisses where their tongues licked each other in a fleshy, wet dance. She trembled all over at his words, involuntarily thrusting her hips out towards his hand.

"− yes − please −" She mumbled, and he needed nothing more.

He closed her mouth with his own, his hand beginning to rub her intensely, his fingertips beginning to tease her entrance, sliding in and out a little, running over her sweet spot on her upper fleshy wall, driving her mad.

"− gods, you're so warm −" He gasped, and she moaned into his mouth, her body starting to move towards his finger with rocking of her hips.

"− please − deeper − ah! −" She moaned into his mouth when she felt him slide his whole finger into her, and then another, thrusting them into her a quick, sure, repetitive pace.

She entwined her hand in his hair, holding his face close, her body trembling all over under his touch, close to the fulfilment she needed so much, her nipples hardening all over from arousal, her hot, moist core was clenching around nothing.

"− shhh − I got you − yes, just like that −" He murmured delighted as he heard her loud, drawn-out moan, her body tensing under the wave of wonderful orgasm that surged through her body, sucking his fingers inside her.

She breathed heavily, looking up at him with dreamy eyes − he burshed her lips with his once in a while, laying down beside her again, pressing her head against his chest.

She tried to calm herself, breathing in his scent, thanking the gods that they were both alive, trying not to focus on how much everything was hurting her.

She purred quietly when she felt him kiss her hair.

She felt his manhood pulsing steadily under his breeches, pressing against her body. She wanted to touch him there with her hand, but he stopped her, lifting her palm and kissing her fingers. She swallowed quietly, lowering her gaze.

"− don't you want my touch? −" She asked with a sadness that she could no longer hide, with a fear that he didn't want to do it with her anymore.

She heard him sigh softly, his hand tightening in her hair, pressing her closer to him.

"I crave your touch as much as never before, sweet wife, but I would cause you pain now. Do not fret. When your skin heals, you will beg me to stop."

______

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[nelyoslegalteam]

#WOULD KILL DRACULA AND SURVIVE#listen maedhros feanorion and jonathan harker are fundamentally the same genre of person. no im not elaborating just trust me. #actually that’s a lie i made a long unhinged post elaborating but like #‘​‘his spirit burned like a white fire within’’ / ‘‘in fact he is like a living flame’’

PLEASE elaborate on Maedhros and Jonathan being the same kind of person! Is Jonathan the living flame quote?

YES LISTEN OKAY YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND. first of all i have been unhinged already here but. look i just really love a character who makes decisions they know are putting them in danger because they’re bound to some duty beyond themself. love a character who was trapped and imprisoned and makes for a juicy study of what the power structure of that entrapment was like (and for maedhros i have to shout out @outofangband for just utterly sinking their TEETH into this in the BEST way). love a character who SHOULD’VE died, who DIDN’T, except they did go through some kind of metaphorical death. and now they’re back. and they’re not as soft and measured as they used to be. and now they’re spurred on by rage and trauma - and also the desire to protect their people (maedhros has his little brothers and also All Of The Noldor, jonathan has mina) from the horrors that they faced. and they WILL face those horrors. violently. with a knife. no matter how much it opens their own trauma, they’re taking the blow. and fuck do i LOVE a character who’s willing to meet the worst version of themself along the way, who’s willing to Become The Thing They Fear for the people they love. (maedhros, who refused to burn the ships, doesn’t want to be the kind of person who slaughters refugees. but he will be that, for his family. jonathan doesn’t want to be dracula. but for mina, he’ll turn to vampirism without second thought.)

also listen. a character who is physically changed by what they went through, as a metaphor for the way their trauma has altered who they are. maedhros losing his right hand. jonathan’s hair turning white. you see. you get me.

AND YEAH. YEAH THAT’S A DIRECT QUOTE ABOUT JONATHAN!!!!!!! it’s from the october 3rd entry, where jack describes jonathan as such:

The poor fellow is overwhelmed in a misery that is appalling to see. Last night he was a frank, happy-looking man, with strong, youthful face, full of energy, and with dark brown hair. Today he is a drawn, haggard old man, whose white hair matches well with the hollow burning eyes and grief-written lines of his face. His energy is still intact; in fact, he is like a living flame. This may yet be his salvation, for, if all go well, it will tide him over the despairing period; he will then, in a kind of way, wake again to the realities of life.

(emphasis mine but!!!!!! TELL ME THAT ISN’T THE MOST MAEDHROS-CODED OUTSIDER POV ON JONATHAN HARKER EVER)

anyhow. i love them both dearly. and the living flame quote is one of my favorite lines of all time <3

[sarascamander]

Reading the cursed child (scorbus, norvelize version in a03). I read the script years ago when I was 11 (funfact it was the first harry potter book I've ever bought). So I'm rereading it again because I have a scorbus brainrot suddenly (11 y/o me shipped Scorpius and Rose so hard but now I grew up let just say my taste had change lmao).

List of thought gonna go longer as I read:

- yo Albus surly personality is basically me when I was 15 it was like looking into a mirror. Hold on there baby I understand you 😭

- I want to write a whole essay on Albus and Harry's relationship. They both are so precious but they just have a hard time with each other.

- Scorpius is the sunshine most sunshine cinnamon role ever. I would kill for him. I would die for him.

- ALL THOSE BULLY BETTER STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM MY OUTCASTS BABIES.

- “And be my good friend.” what if I die.

- why do people love to torture the cinnamon roll??? I want to hug Scorpio so bad like baby you deserve the moon and the sky and the world. And the fact that he's still trying to be so cheerful and optimistic. THE WORLD DOESN'T DESERVE HIM.

- Albus and Harry's father and son angst is killing me but it is also so delicious I relish in it (it's just so complicated I love it).

- "you’re kind, Scorpius. From the depths of your belly, to the tips of your fingers." Is the sweetest thing I've ever heard anyone said. I love this quote so much I want it tattooed on my forehead.

- Again, Scorpius deserve the fucking world.

- Scorpius and Draco's relationship is SO GOOD, SO PURE, SO SOFT. They love each other so much 😭

- brb I'm going to cry at the fact that Dark AU Ron and Hermione die in such a terrible way a few minutes after they finally confess their feelings (they were scared). 😭😭😭😭😭😭

- Snape is so dramatic. Girl "you're giving up your kingdom for Albus... All it takes is one person." he made it sound like they're in a romance fantasy novel (they are).

- Head empty. Scorpius happiest memory with Albus is strong enough for him to produce a patronus.

- Scorpius is once, again, a cutie pie that deserves everything.

- Delphi is more manipulative than I realized when I first read this lmao.

- GIRL the way Albus said that he and Scorpius ran away to start a new life in the muggle world as an excuse — what do you mean you're eloping at 14??? (Out of chronological order but I just remembered this)

- Delphi when I catch you —

- Never thought I'd be rooting for Draco and Harry duo yet here we are (did I say I love Draco as a dad?? I don't think he's appreciated enough. He's a brilliant dad! THIS is his best redemption arc).

- "What did you say to our son, Harry?" GO OFF QUEEN (Albus is a confirmed mommy boy)

- RON WANT TO MARRY HERMIONE AGAIN. I don't quite ship them in the book/movie but they're just the sweetest in here 😩😩

- I just had the sudden realisation that Scorbus might be the only couple that I ship in hp that is so close to canon (and was canonised by some play if I heard correctly).

- that time where they were in godric hollow and Scorpius was surprised that Albus never knew the full story of his grandparents or visited the place just bc he was being a petty, moody uninterested teenager hit so hard (he is me and I am him). And the shame he felt was real too. I always regret those years in my life where I acted like that and I don't even have a daddy issue like Al did, what's my bloody excuse lmao (I blame fucking hormones) 😩😭

- okay so finished it!! When I was a kid I don't quite like the time travel thingy and find it very confusing but I think it's because it's a screenplay yk, and it was meant to be watched not read. But the novel version did help a lot (and I give the author my hundreds of gratitude, her writing is absolutely beautiful! And she captured the characters perfectly! If you're scared to read The Cursed Child, read her novel version in ao3!!!).

I'm surprised that I actually love the plot more than I thought I would. Yeah it can get a bit unrealistic at times but all in all it's very entertaining and Albus and Scorpius are very well written, very rounded and nuanced characters that carry the book. I'm glad their parents didn't overshadow their personality etc (like them being mini-copies of Harry and Draco). They're their own person and I love that about them!!

They're not Drarry or even Jegulus as I've seen people say, they're in their own league. There are no enemies or hatred or tension between them; Scorpius and Albus genuinely like each other so much from the first they laid their eyes on each other and I adore them for it.

I read a theory that Albus was sent in Slytherin because he subconsciously wanted to be in a house with this kind boy met on the train and it made me want to cry (they were made for each other). (Although I do think Albus have many Slytherin traits, Scorpius I was less sure he screamed Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw to me but admittedly he can be cunning to).

So yeah, I don't think it's that bad as everyone said (and my 11 y/o self). It's fun and I actually cried a lot at the end of it (I have to watch Jily die, do you have any idea what that did to me???) (I don't even ship them but i swear this book set me to default back to canon).

I really want to watch the play, would die for it but it's impossible and I can only dream.xoxo

[kiwiana-writes]

WIP Wednesday

Thanks to @daisymae-12 @anincompletelist @suseagull04 for the tags! I'm having A Bit Of A Week so I decided to jump back into a doc I've been struggling with for a while but really love, aka Anastasia AU my beloved, and smash out a few new words for it. I'd apologise for it being so bloody long buuuuuuut turns out I'm not actually sorry!

“Age progression AI,” Nora says, and Alex nods as though this means anything to him. “Someone’s built one that they’re claiming will, quote, ‘change the game’ when it comes to missing person’s cases, but they don’t give a single fuck about the privacy concerns or the data usage implications, so I’m trying to pull it apart and prove it’s janky. Can’t rely on capitalism to do the moral thing, but I sure can trust corporations to recognise a bad investment.” Alex hums in agreement, leaning over her shoulder. “Is it good, though? Ethical quandaries aside?” “Unfortunately, yeah.” Nora reaches for the Red Bull next to her laptop, taking a long swig. “But everything I’m feeding it is already public domain—celebrities and stuff—so it’s hard to differentiate true AI generation from it scanning and returning older photos of the same person. So now I’m looking at people the internet doesn’t have photos of past a certain age, seeing what it spits out.” “Like… dead children?” He winces. “Dark.” “Dead or missing.” She minimises the window full of code, bringing up a side-by-side of two pictures instead. “Prince Henry. Disappeared the night we dissolved the monarchy, almost definitely dead, but his family still— Alex, are you okay?” It’s only when Nora says his name that Alex realises his head is spinning; he sucks in a breath, and the immediate relief he feels makes it clear that he hadn’t done so for longer than is strictly advisable. He can’t tear his eyes away from the picture on the right: the sharp blue eyes, the soft-looking golden hair, the imperious set to his jaw that drove Alex crazy for an entire semester. “That’s— you’re fucking with me, right?” “Alex, babe. I love that your brain runs a million miles a minute, but in this particular case, I think you’ve left me behind.”  Alex turns to look at her. He’s known Nora for years—biblically and otherwise—and he likes to think he can read her well enough. If he’s right, she’s not fucking with him, and somehow that’s worse. “Nora,” he says slowly, “I know this guy.”

Forever feeling feral for whatever y'all are up to, so tags below the cut and, as always, anyone who wants to play! (If you take the open tag please tag me so I can see!!)

@affectionatelyrs @celaestis1 @cha-melodius @clottedcreamfudge @cricketnationrise @cultofsappho @dumbpeachjuice @getmehighonmagic @happiness-of-the-pursuit @heybuddy-drabbles @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @hypnostheory @iboatedhere @indestructibleheart @indomitable-love @inexplicablymine @leaves-of-laurelin @lilythesilly @myheartalivewrites @nontoxic-writes @orchidscript @rmd-writes @roseapothecary @sherryvalli @ships-to-sail @smc-27 @sparklepocalypse @ssmtskw @stereopticons @tintagel-or-cockleshells @welcometololaland 

[incorrectringsofpower]

Season 2 Ep 6 liveblog reaction notes (spoilers behind the cut)

Run, Arondir, run!

He is just that cool.

Doing okay there, Celebrimbor?

Mirdania: Early-onset dementia is a really bad sign for an immortal, boss.

Annatar trying to talk about having the creative Flow State but evil lmao

"As you wish." Oh yeah the fandom will love that.

Lol the Sauron theme quietly playing after he agrees to see about the mithril.

"Pray that he finishes this work before it finishes him." Oh I hate you.

Annatar is such a creeeeep. Stop touching herrrrr.

Awkward Dinner Party time!

At least none of the food appears to be made of Man...?

Sam as Adar has such a good screen presence. They chose well for the recast.

Ooh Dutch angles have made a return?

Galadriel loves getting offered armies, it is true.

Interesting to offer Adar children. Can we go back to the FA and hear that convo?

Ooh stabby crown!

I was there, Gandalf. I mean, Galadriel.

Her hair is half in the light, half in the dark here. Interesting.

Adar, stop spoiling the plot of Season 1! /s

Ughhhhhhhhhh leave Elendil aloooooone.

Yeah I'm angrily sewing today. Fuck all of these people.

Sure would be nice if Anárion showed up.

More rhyming.

My poor Harfoot wives ship! Ah well. This one is cute, too.

Lmao the predicted kiss was from the ship pretty much no one expected it from. Take that, trolls.

Not Tom Bombadil basically parroting what was said by the Guru in S2 of AtLA lol.

Nice gold you have there. Sure would be a shame if anything happened to it.

Prince Durin wants to call him a bitch sooooo baaad.

Stop using "precious"! I have a visceral response to it ;_;

Yay, we are gonna get a reference to the mithril armor from LotR!

Lady Macbeth viiiibes

lol wut they summon the monster a la Dune?

Bit too late for that, Eärien.

Not my sad tragic shiiiiip :(

More emphasis on faith this season!

My shiiip ;;_;;

"The sea is always right" coming back to haunt us all again.

Disa: Surprise bitch. Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me.

Ok but you both could use Elrond. Pls. I beg. Where is Elrond?

At least Elendil has plot armor for now?

Míriel noooooo :'(

Haaate this, haaaate this

Soft touching but I'm sad about it :((((

Ossë be nice pls

NOPE NOPE NOPE

I have regrets about a quote I made earlier this week. Sorry in advance whenever the queue spits it out :/

Get rekt Pharazôn.

So this is how they force the first cousin marriage? Hmmmm.

Pharazôn, you'd live longer if you stopped doomscrolling 4chan. Just saying.

The Galadriel x Adar shippers are gonna love this episode.

Yah ok, sorry Adar girlies but I think he just sealed his fate with that.

Sauron: In my divorce era. Skin clear, crops withering, rings growing.

Sauron: Pushing me is gonna get you turned into a banner, buddy.

Ohhh. He's dream sequencing him. Lovely.

Charlie loves that he can be the one to title drop so much this season. Also. Annatar. Stop saying "precious". I'm seriously twitchy about that word aughhhh.

Feänor must be rolling in his grave rn that Sauron touched his hammer.

Quite a way to end the episode lol.

Battle two-parter starts next week, wahoo!

[seaoflove07]

🌹 Oc Introduction 🌹

• Artwork by The Drawables •

The red rose symbolizes romance, love, beauty, & courage.

It was the beginning of you and me,

Little by little,

You haunted my heart

and I

Became your Rose.

- Poetry By Me.

• I created my Oc on Picrew •

~ Diabolik Lovers Oc ~

A human young adult.

Name: Christine Melendez.

Gender: Female.

Pronouns: She/her.

Age: 20 years old.

Nationality: Hispanic American.

Languages she speaks: She is fluent in English and Spanish.

Blood Type: A+

Favorite Color: Pink.

Birthday: October 21st.

Favorite Flower: Pink and Red Rose.

Favorite Season: Summer.

Favorite Food: Pizza.

Favorite Drink: Coffee. She's a coffee lover who drinks 5 or 6 cups a day. Please don't judge her.

Hobbies: Reading Poetry, Coffee Dates, Listening to Music, Baking Cookies and Nature walks.

Favorite Novel: Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austin.

Places she loves going to: The Beach, Botanical Gardens, Mall, Coffee Shops, Museums, and Bookstores. (Even though she only reads on her Kindle)

Christine is very hard-working and responsible. She hates laziness. She is a very outgoing person, loves hangouts and she's very talkative. She is not a shy person when it comes to meeting new people.

She lives in the United States and works at an Elementary School. She's one of the younger Teachers. She loves working with children.

Christine has a kind heart and loves helping others. But her little self can get moody at times and she gets angry easily. But she knows how to control her temper.

~ APPEARANCE ~

• Artwork by December Custom •

Eye Color: Medium Brown.

Hair: Blonde and her hair is 24 inches long. Sometimes she will have two different hairstyle.

Example: Left soft wavy. Right soft curls.

Height: 157.48 cm.

Breast size: C cup.

Scent: Roses.

All her body care and hair products are rose-scented. Her favorite perfume and signature scent is Coco Mademoiselle by Chanel. 🌹

A classy and very feminine fragrance. It’s a lovely floral scent with main notes of Rose, Patchouli, and a tiny hint of citrus. These notes together make the fragrance smell elegant and fresh. It's described that it smells like an imaginary fairytale garden. 💐

Christine loves this perfume and she uses it every day.

Azusa is obsessed with her scent. The scent of roses mixed with her blood scent is intoxicating to him.

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Style: Girly and Feminine.

• Artwork by Mark BrushesHands •

My Oc will not have a main outfit. She will have different outfits in all her arts.

Christine loves fashion and getting doll-up. She loves dresses. (Casual and Elegant)

She also loves skirts, cute blouses, high heels, and gold jewelry. Her favorite everyday necklace is a Gold Cross.

~ Diabolik Lovers AU Story Information ~

Story Title: Love Planted a Rose. 🌹

It will be a Trilogy. Dark, Maniac, and Ecstasy.

Art Cover and Story Description, Here.

Christine Diaboy Ship: 🔪Azusa Mukami.

• Artwork by The Drawables •

Azusa will be her one and only, I will NOT do Love Triangles or Multi-ship with the other Diaboys.

~ Why he calls her “Rose?” and not “Eve?”

Azusa calls Christine “Rose” mainly because of her scent of roses. But he has also said that the Red Rose in general reminds him of her.

Quotes is from a short Fanfic I wrote.

Azusa: “… I was… walking in the garden… and I picked up this… red rose for you...”

Caressing her cheek, he looks at her with so much love in his eyes.

Azusa: “You are… just… like this rose… You’re pretty… like this rose… you smell nice… like this rose … your skin is soft… like the…rose petals… and your blood… is the same color… like this rose…”

Quotes are from my Novel, Chapter 3.

Christine: “Rose? Why are you calling me “Rose?” When my name is Christine.”

He moves closer to her, runs his fingers through her hair, and strokes it. While caressing her arm with his other hand.

Azusa: “Your scent… is so good… and your skin… is so soft… like rose petals… you remind me of a beautiful red rose… The name suits you…”

“So nice... my own... little rose...”

Azusa likes to give roses to Christine as gifts, he also loves to place roses and other flowers on her hair. To him, she looks adorable. Later on in their story he also bought her a Red Rose hair clip. (The Red Rose in her hair that you see her wear in most of her arts, that's the clip he bought her) ��️ Azusa also knows how to make Flower Crowns but he will only do those on special occasions.

Azusa and Christine both like going to the Garden a lot. They love taking walks together, holding hands, and enjoying the beautiful view of the different colors of the roses.

Roses are a huge symbol of their relationship.

The reason he doesn't call her “Eve” is because Yui Komori is in my story. She is the only true Eve. I did not want to replace Yui with Christine for the Eve Tittle. So I came up with another plan instead. Yui in this story her Diaboy choice is Ayato. (They are my favorite Ship) 🤭

Yui and Christine become good friends and you will see lots of interactions between them in the story.

So there is no reason for Azusa to call Christine “Eve” when she's not Eve.

Karlheinz has a different plan for Christine. He personally chose her. But I won't reveal that plan yet because it's a huge spoiler and a big character change. I'll probably reveal that plan in Maniac.

More information about their canon story and Ryoutei Academy. This will all be in another separate post.

~ Past Relationship ~ ⚠️

Before Azusa, Christine had a 4-year relationship with a guy from her hometown. His name is Mark. He was her first love.

Their first two years together was fantastic, and she was madly in love with him. But in their third year together everything changed. Mark started to be cold, he became verbally abusive to her. It was so bad to the point she started to believe his words. Making her feel worthless. They had lots of heated bad arguments. One time out of anger he almost raped her. He didn't succeed because someone knocked on his apartment door.

They continued this terrible relationship.

Christine even though she was unhappy she still loved him and tried to make it work. But nothing was good enough for Mark and he still continued to treat her like garbage.

One day he told her that he had been seeing someone new for a while now and that he wanted to start a serious relationship with that woman. He ends the relationship with Christine.

The fact that he was cheating behind her back, that he ended it first and moved on with someone else like she was nothing.

That broke her.

• From Picrew •

There will be Flashbacks of this topic in Love Planted a Rose, and the asshole Ex will make his appearance in Maniac.

Love Planted a Rose, Masterpost.

Admin Note:

If you read up here, thank you! I did try to not make this extremely long.

If you decide to read her story with Azusa, you will get to know Christine's personality even more. And of course, you will see her relationship with Azusa bloom. 💗🔪🌹

I do plan soon to open my Ask box again and maybe to do some Interactions with other Ocs.

I don't do Rps here on Tumblr. Only on Discord. If you want to Rp with Christine, just send me a DM and we can plan.

Christine Aesthetics.

~ Flower Crown ~ Angel ~ Flowers ~

~ Lavender Haze ~ ~Christmas 2023 ~

~ Reading Azusa’s Love Letter

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Jason Todd/Frank Castle ship manifesto and rec list!

For @dc-marvel-crossovers Pool Noodle Party.

These two are both scary motherfuckers when they want to be. Between the guns and the vengeance — yeah, the surface-level similarities are clear. But they’re also people whose core motivations are a) loss and b) a sense of justice. They lost faith in the ability of others to protect the people they love, and so they decided to do it themselves. They get a lot of shit from the other vigilantes in their respective circles for their methods of doing so; I think the lack of judgment coming from the other person would absolutely draw them together.

And at first glance, I think they can both easily be written off as angry characters, but both of them have a massive soft, caring streak under all that Kevlar and grumbling. It comes out mostly in the way they look out for (and fight on behalf of) the innocent — women, children, dogs… they’re both natural caretakers, but they’re rarely allowed to express it, and I think that caretaking is a huge part of what I love about the idea of their dynamic. They only allow themselves to be soft and to be taken care of because they’re with someone who also respects their strength.

Fic recs! Most of this tag belongs to the amazing @mightymightygnomepriest and @bittercape! Please go check out their work if you want more of this pairing — every one of their fics is great, not just the ones I’m quoting here.

forever trusting who we are by @bittercape - like I said, it’s the caretaking for me! This is peak softness, and I love the lived-in feel of the unspoken communication that comes from a long term relationship.

The rhythm of checking and mending gear is a familiar one, and Jason is comforted by the hiss of the whetstone against an already-sharp blade, as familiar as breathing.

Slightly less familiar is the way Frank leans against him when he comes back from packing up their gear. His weight is heavy against Jason’s back, seeking contact like a big cat.

can’t start a fire without a spark by @mightymightygnomepriest - Frank is literally in the rain trying to rescue a puppy in this. It’s so ridiculously endearing. There’s also caretaking (of course) and some sexy sexy sex.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason catches sight of a calendar. He wonders if he’s been a good enough boy this year that Santa’s delivered him a dilf.

Probably not.

Even if We’re Just Dancing in the Dark by @daddyswickedqueen - a remix of the previous fic on the list, but god damn I love Sagacity’s take on this premise. The inner voices of both characters are so well done.

There’s a low laugh that could, in other meteorological conditions, make Jason shiver. Right now it’s too fucking cold and wet to tell.

Jason stays right where he is. This goddamn puppy is going to be warm and dry tonight or he’s going to commit war crimes. Again.

Parting is all we know of Heaven, (—and all we need of Hell.) by llamallamaduck - Witcher fusion! I know very little about the Witcher fandom but was able to follow without problems, and the glimpse at the world was more than enough to have me wanting more. Great characterizations.

“I’ve been around for a while, kid,” says the Witcher, shifting. Automatically, Jason’s eyes snap to track the movement. You can’t not pay attention to that shit. He’s not even making any threatening gestures; he’s rubbing his temples with one hand and is propped up by the other. Nevertheless, Jason wants to curl his shoulders, bare his teeth and show he’s not easy prey.

Make This Easy by @thepartyresponsible - it has once again been 0 days since somebody in the crossover server recced a TPR fic, and for good reason. Significantly darker than the others on this list; this is not a happy story. But it involves one of my favorite descriptions of Jason of all time:

There’s some kind of predator under his skin, the same way there’s one under Frank’s. Maybe this kid’s teeth run a little closer to the surface, but Frank still recognizes his own. It’s just weird as hell to find someone like him caged up in a body like that. He wonders if that’s what he looked like in his early twenties, some unholy mashup of empty eyes and soft edges, baby fat barely lingering on a body already smelted into a weapon.

He was never that pretty, but Russo used to be. Maybe that burning match energy is something boys like them learn early. Self-immolation as a form of self-protection. Nobody’s going to get their hands on them if they’re already on fire.

[addaerontruther]

I feel like it's worth discussing that Daeron didn't get involved in the Dance until after Addam did.

Lord Ormund Hightower had issued forth from Oldtown with a thousand knights, a thousand archers, three thousand men-at-arms, and uncounted thousands of camp followers, sellswords, freeriders, and rabble, only to find himself set upon by Ser Alan Beesbury and Lord Alan Tarly… Lord Ormund had therefore decided he could not proceed without support from King’s Landing. “We have need of your dragons,” he wrote.

If that wasn't enough to show that he wasn't with the army, it's repeated again that he didn't leave Oldtown... even after Aegon was wounded and Helaena was despondent, leaving only Aemond on the field.

With Sunfyre wounded near Rook’s Rest and unable to fly, and Tessarion with Prince Daeron in Oldtown, only two mature dragons remained to defend King’s Landing… and Dreamfyre’s rider, Queen Helaena, spent her days in darkness, weeping, and surely could not be counted as a threat. That left only Vhagar.

A few paragraphs later, Addam claims a dragon.

And Seasmoke, who had once borne Laenor Velaryon, took onto his back a boy of ten-and-five known as Addam of Hull, whose origins remain a matter of dispute amongst historians to this day.

Then he fights alongside the Blacks.

It is one thing to face a dragon, another to face five. As Silverwing, Sheepstealer, Seasmoke, and Vermithor descended upon them, the men of the Triarchy felt their courage desert them.

And then Daeron appears, clearly unexpectedly, to fight with the Greens.

Defeat seemed imminent…until a shadow swept across the battlefield, and a terrible roar resounded overhead, slicing through the sound of steel on steel. A dragon had come. The dragon was Tessarion, the Blue Queen, cobalt and copper. On her back rode the youngest of Queen Alicent’s three sons, Daeron Targaryen, fifteen, Lord Ormund’s squire, that same gentle and soft-spoken lad who had once been milk brother to Prince Jacaerys.

Fire and Blood is being presented from the point of view of a Maester that benefits from the social structures reinforced by the Green "victory" and his take is based on other men in similar positions. If one of the main Green's had doubts about their cause, there's no way they would document it. Aegon II's own brother being hesitant to support his claim weakens their cause considerably.

I really, truly, and in my bones believe that Daeron didn't want to get involved in the war because he had something else to live for. He'd been away from his family for years, but Addam was always on one of his mother's ships, and Oldtown is the number two principal port in the realm. It's beyond feasible that they met. Tessarion and Seasmoke's dance seems to prove my theory, but that's a different post.

I think Daeron didn't want to die for something he didn't believe in, and then when he found out Addam was fighting for the opposing side, his hand was forced. Jace was shot down by common soldiers, and Vhagar had already established herself as a serious threat to smaller dragons. Most of Daeron's victories were bloodless because he wasn't blood thirsty... until Maelor. But again, that's another post.

He couldn't let the war just go on without attempting to stop it before something happened to Addam. He wanted to get to King's Landing and force a peace before something horrible happened to the person he loved. And, despite Daeron being Rhaenyra's biggest threat (that's a direct quote, don't come for me), Addam didn't go for him immediately. He visited the Isle of Faces first, and whatever happened there sent him south.

In conclusion — they were in love, your honor. The Romeo and Juliet of Westeros if you will.

All quotes are presented in chronological order from Fire & Blood, Chapter 15: The Dying of the Dragons — The Red Dragon and the Gold.

[aevykcreates]

Jlaire Week Ask Game

Yeah, I went ahead and answered all of them. :P

Light and Darkness - What got you into Jlaire in the first place and what makes it one of if not your favorite ship?

I’m pretty sure I shipped them from the very first episode. First, we’ve been introduced to Jim, who is like the sweetest character ever. So when we saw him literally drooling over Claire, we know she has to be special.

It doesn’t take much time for them to interact and I remember loving that scene because I didn’t know there was so much Spanish in the show (at least in the first season). Both that interaction and the one just before the audition show they’re actually interested in each other and I’ve loved their dynamic from the beginning.

I think they somehow remind me of my own characters, Zem and Aury, since he’s the anxious one and she has to help him (even though Aury is way more short-tempered than Claire).

Romeo and Juliet- What's your favorite Jlaire moment form Trollhunters?

There are many good ones to choose. I love when she discovers his secret, the dance in the hill and when he reaches out to help her when she makes that mega-portal. They really care about each other and I think the best part is how we’re able to see their relationship flourish during the seasons.

Beauty and the Beast- What's your favorite Jlaire moment from Wizards?

The picnic, for sure. I think we should have seen more Jlaire interactions when he was a half Troll. I loved all the scenes where Claire gets to protect Jim, showing how much she has improved as a sorceress, but there’s something about them being able to relax and have an actual date.

Tragic Love - What's your Jlaire heartbreaking moment in the series?

Even though Jim knowing he’s not going to survive if they go back to the present is a close one, I have to say when Claire finds his soul wandering over the Killahead Bridge in the Shadow Realm. I’m a hopeless romantic and what breaks my heart is that “being close but still too far from each other” if you know what I mean.

My Romeo - What's your favorite Jlaire quote from Trollhunters?

From Hero of a 1000 faces: “This is the worst day of my life.” “That’t the real Jim.” It’s so funny, but also shows how much she’s gotten to know him.

100 Life times - What's your favorite Jlaire Quote from Wizards?

That’s a tough one. I liked the “I'd date you for a hundred lifetimes, Jim Lake.”… until the movie came out. So I guess: “But I've fought across time and space to bring you back.” Because of the same reason that scene is so heartbreaking to me.

Toby dating Advices - What's your advice for Jim that would help with him Claire

Actually, I think things worked out quite well. I would have advised him to be braver but he actually ended up being it, so...

Mary Dating Advice- what's your advice for Claire that would help her with Jim.

Actually, I think things worked out quite well.

time and Space - What's your Aus for Jim and Claire relationship or what's your favorite Au for them?

I have a soft spot for Beauty and the Beast kind of stories, so most of my Aus revolve around that. I seriously thing Troll Jim was underused and I’d have liked to see more of them as a couple, like travelling to New Jersey. That’s why I had to write about that and why Lights and Shadows of Camelot is the culmination of it. BTW, I’ve written a lot about Jlaire in my fanfics, if you’re interested 😊

Shadowhunter - What's your favorite headcanons for Jlaire?

They send messages all the time, checking out the other is okay. Jim makes Claire her favorite cookies and she takes him on dates using portals to visit new places.

If you have any more questions or want me to elaborate about anything, don't be afraid to ask!

Sadly, I won't be able to do any prompts, but I'm gonna share some Jlaire art I have around and you can check out my fanfics for more Jlaire content!:

-New Jersey: A brief story of what happened in the journey to New Jersey that had place during the season 2 of 3Below.

-Awakening: A novelized version of the 11th episode of the third season, "Jimhunters". Includes original new scenes.

-The Arrival: Final chapter of "New Jersey", connecting the story with "Wizards".

-Light through yonder window: After being attacked by Nomura, Jim is brought to the hospital. Claire decides she has to go and stay by his side. Tells what happened between the episodes 'Claire and Present Danger' and 'Battle of Two Bridges' and a couple of things more.

-Waiting: Jim has entered the Darklands. Claire and Toby will have to act quickly and not fall into despair.

-Butterflies and Christmas Jlaire, from Arcadian Nights.

-Lights and Shadows of Camelot: Claire has just discovered her magic powers and goes to Camelot so Morgana can teach her. One night, she'll meet the Trollhunter.

[rainyloveangel]

Me and the main Kaiju's as incorrect quotes

- Note -

Monarch = Me

Shipping and nonshipping quotes

Lost of swearing... probably

————————————————————————————————

Rodan: Why is Monarch making me do the dishes again? You haven’t washed them in a week, Godzilla!

Godzilla: It’s because I’m Monarch’s favorite.

Rodan: I hate you.

————————————————————————————————

Monarch: I told Rodan to grab snacks for everyone.

Mothra, looking through the options: Why did you grab fruit snacks? Are you five? Who even likes Fruit Snacks?

*Monarch, Rodan, and Godzilla raise their hands*

————————————————————————————————

Mecha: If I say yes am I joining a cult?

Rodan: Possibly.

Mecha: I’m in.

————————————————————————————————

Ichi: ARE YOU-

Monarch: Fucking.

Ichi: KIDDING ME?! YOU-

Monarch: Fucking.

Ichi: IDIOT!

Kong: …What was that?

Monarch: Scar king banned Ichi from swearing, so I’m helping them out

————————————————————————————————

Monarch, ordering coffee: I’d like a light roast.

Scar king: You're kinda ugly.

————————————————————————————————

Mecha: I sleep with a gun under my pillow.

Kong: I sleep with a axe.

Monarch: Both of you are pathetic.

Mecha: Oh yeah? What do you sleep with?

Monarch: Godzilla.

————————————————————————————————

*Ichi is casually searching around the room*

Ni: Hey Ichi, what’re you looking for?

Ichi: My will to live.

*Monarch walks into the room*

Ichi: Oh, there it is.

————————————————————————————————

Mecha: I am so cool. I am an absolute Chad. I am the epitome of coolness and awesomeness—

Monarch: Hi.

Mecha: *melts down in a flustered heap of softness*

————————————————————————————————

Ni: I am working on this whole Good Guy thing, but anyone who cuts me in line at Starbucks deserves to have their kneecaps shot out, okay?

————————————————————————————————

Mecha: Kong, I have a great idea.

Kong: Let’s hear it.

Mecha: We trick Shimo and Ichi to go out on a date together.

Kong: YES!

Kong: And hey, if that doesn’t work out, maybe you and me could go out, get some drinks—

Mecha, hitting him with a book: THIS IS NOT ABOUT YOU

————————————————————————————————

Monarch, at Godzilla: You're my significant other.

Godzilla: Yeah I am!

Monarch, signing at Jia: You're my child.

Jia, signing back: Yes mama.

Monarch, at Ni: You're my bitch.

Ni: Yeah I am- wait, what?

Monarch, at Kong: My bestie.

Kong: Naturally.

Monarch, Kevin: HA, GAY!

Kevin: Fuck you.

————————————————————————————————

Monarch, at Godzilla's funeral: I need a moment with them.

Everyone: Of course. *They leave*

Monarch, leaning over Godzilla′s coffin: Okay, listen here you little shit. I know you’re not dead.

Godzilla: Yeah, no shit.

————————————————————————————————

Scar king: Yes, perhaps they’re homophobic.

(This was before Shimo's gender was confirmed to be female.)

Shimo: Wow, they really hate us.

Shimo: But we’re not gay, Scar king.

Scar king:

Shimo:

Scar king: We’re not?

————————————————————————————————

Scar king: Do you always have to attack me with your words?

Godzilla: Would you prefer me to use a brick?

————————————————————————————————

Kevin: Ichi, what does IDK, ILY, and TTYL mean?

Ichi: I don’t know, I love you, talk to you later.

Kevin: Alright, I love you too, I'll ask Godzilla.

Ichi: Wait- Kevin, no-

————————————————————————————————

Godzilla: Have I ever told you that I love you with my whole heart?

Monarch: For the love of all that is holy, I am not taking you to McDonalds. It’s 2am!

Godzilla: Mean.

————————————————————————————————

Kong, talking to Monarch: With all due respect, which is none…

————————————————————————————————

Ichi, pointing to the wall: What color is this?

Monarch: Gray.

Mothra: Grey.

Ichi, turning to Scar king: Now tell them what color you think it is.

Scar king: Dark white.

————————————————————————————————

Godzilla: If I die, you can have what little I own.

Monarch: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?

Godzilla: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.

Monarch:

Monarch: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

————————————————————————————————

Godzilla: Do you want some tea?

Monarch: What are the options?

Godzilla: Yes or no.

————————————————————————————————

[colonelpancakes]

Watching The Dragon Prince Season Six Part 3! The Frozen Ship. The title alone has me intrigued. Post is long so it goes under the cut.

Ah, well that's concerning. Oh and while I was screenshotting this I realized that Callum's hand is covered in blood here. That's really concerning.

I am having vivid flashbacks to season one and the whole “we accidentally dunked both the egg and Ezran in frozen lake water” debacle. Given his nervousness, I get the feeling Callum is too.

NOOO! NOT THE PUPPY!!

Rayla sending the Shadowpaw home when she herself still can’t return… My heart. I am happy that the baby lived though.

Oh hey! Terry!

Terry, if you get eaten by some strange creature I swear to God.

Rayllum! Also Rayla thinking the black ice was enchanted with black magic was cute.

I sympathize with you Rayla, my dog has done that exact same thing to me. I mean, not as I was having a romantic moment with my partner but she has looked me dead in the eyes and sneezed directly into my mouth.

Ohh she does not look well...

I love them so much

The look Callum gives Sneezles skjfaslk.

I distinctly do not trust this boat. This is a very untrustworthy boat. It’s making me think of the boat with all the dead people in that one Race to The Edge episode. The one with the buffalo dragon spit? Does anyone know what I’m talking about or am I just rambling? (Buffalord Soldier is the episode I’m thinking of here, I looked it up.)

I feel like this is getting a tad meta

Skjfklsajf I love Stella and Rayla being nosy together. They should form a book club.

Ohh, Terry bathing Claudia and seeing all of her scars… The softness and tenderness in it all and the grief and the fallout of Viren leaving. Ough.

Claudia... She looks like she's definitely not present, poor babies...

Okay, entirely off topic but dang that is some good nail polish that Claudia has if it's stayed on for this long UNCHIPPED to boot.

Rayla crying as she reads Esmerelda’s diary because she sees herself and Callum in the words… The guilt from leaving him and thinking about what they could have been for the last four years and the regret hitting her. Oh, darling…

Ohh and Callum sketches Rayla while he’s waiting for her like he’s always done... He's worried about her...

Wow those are some thin ship walls if Callum can hear Rayla crying from outside. Actually, that makes sense they are filled with holes.

Listen, she got distracted. But also Rayla you did make Callum sit in the cold waiting for you and worrying while you read through the entirety of someone’s diary.

Callum you jinxed it, knock on wood.

NOPE NEVERMIND THAT MADE IT WORSE. Okay knocking on wood was a bad idea.

Ohh... The intimacy of trusting someone enough to hold a knife to the back of your neck, knowing that they won’t hurt you. Terry stayed, he waited for her. And then her quietly crying… The emotions in these scenes, the grief, the shock, the tiredness, are all so tangible even when neither Claudia nor Terry has said a single word all episode. The composers and the animators are doing such an amazing job.

And there was only one blanket!

Oh? I was not expecting information on Callum's birth dad. Damian, we have a name now. Aww, Callum quoting his dad's poetry is really sweet. I wonder if Callum met him or if he passed away before Callum was born.

Skljadskljfsda Stella and Sneezles, Matchmakers Extraordinaire!

RAYLLUM KISS??

Oh never mind Callum dark magic problems that works too.

The rest is in the reblogs because of the gosh dang image limit