#tagging people is scary good lord

[germx]

transitioning as a gay trans guy is fun because in my experience being harassed by people in cars increases in frequency and the people doing so have a different but equally scary intent when they yell shit at you

[lemonofthevalley]

looking at character playlists for myself and one of them has a taylor swift (yes that one) song on there, a dear evan hansen song, and a steven universe song on it. okay

[jacevelaryonswife]

Hiding all of our sins from the daylight | Part One

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x servant!female reader

summary: When the hour of the bat came, you went restlessly through the corridors with the dinner of the heir to the iron throne, willing to beg for forgiveness if necessary.

tags: slow burn, slight angst, war mentions

word count: 2.492

jacaerys velaryon masterlist | next part

War is something scary.

At one time, Rhaenyra Targaryen was Princess of Dragonstone and heir to the iron throne, at the next, Aegon Targaryen was named the second of his name in front of all the people of King’s Landing. A twist that in itself was dramatically alarming for Westeros, nevertheless, the murders of princes Lucerys Velaryon and Jaehaerys Targaryen began a bloody and unpredictable embroidery that could pierce even the most important of men.

Dragonstone was already apprehensive enough before the Queen was attacked in her chambers by a member of the kingsguard. After what happened, the air became denser, the corridors more dangerous, at the most tense nights and the feeling of danger constantly hovered in each resident of the island. You believed that manual labor would ease the fear in your chest, that the tiredness of washing the soft sheets of the prince of Dragonstone would ward off the fear for your life that was of little value to your lords. After all, what is the importance of a mere servant in a war between dragons?

Your efforts to stay healthy were continuous day and night. Sweeping, cleaning, washing, removing the last grain of dust from the throne heir's chambers before quickly retreating through the corridors with a dagger under your garment given by Sir Lorent. A wooden bar was supported against the door of the chambers where you and the other servants rested during the hour of the bat, in an attempt to increase safety. Although sleep was something distant after what happened to the Cargyll brothers, you remained productive, alert and nervous for most of the time.

The consequence of lack of rest was experienced abruptly when something, or rather, someone brought you back to reality in a nervous and unpleasant way, even if undeniably worried. Your view was heavy when the presence of Prince Jacaerys hovered in front of you with wide eyes and defensive posture.

"Are you okay, my lady?" The title not consistent with your position used by the prince did not go unnoticed.

What happened?

"Yes, I- my prince, I am fine," you immediately got up from the armchair, still stunned, dropping the tunic you sewed before falling asleep and lowering your head in a sign of reverence, "forgive me, I didn't intend to sleep in here, I don't know what happened."

"It's okay," he said, "I thought you were dead, that the greens had attacked again," and his words went straight to your lungs.

"I am fine, my prince, thank you for your concern," you lowered to collect the fabric and needle from the floor, mortified. "I need to finish sewing-"

“It's late, my lady, you may rest,” he took off his tunic gently from your hands.

“Thank you, my prince, have a good rest.”

You almost ran from his presence and the chambers, greeting Sir Sylak, walking quickly through the corridors while holding the dagger at your waist, hidden by the dress. That night, when you lay in your bed, you slept like you hadn't done for a long time. No nightmares and no interruptions. You almost passed the hour of the nightingale if it wasn't for Elinda, getting ready quickly and eating a piece of bread to go to the prince's quarters.

It was common for Prince Jacaerys been awake and well disposed when you entered his chambers, it was a routine of the few months you served him, but today, he was lying down, although awake.

“Good morning, my prince,” you greeted him as you lowered your head, hearing him reciprocate the greeting.

Your morning activities consisted of calling the other servants to fill the prince's bathtub with warm water, cleaning the dust from the furniture and leaving the room airy. Usually the prince made his bed, which saved a stage of work, although particularly you always aligned the ends of the sheets to be symmetrical.

“I want to spend the day in my chambers,” he announced.

Your surprised look was directed to him immediately. “It's a beautiful day out there, my prince.”

"I know," he pouted, looking down, "but I don't feel willing today."

"Are you feeling anything, my prince? Should I call Master Gerardys?" You asked, worried.

"It is not that, I just-"

Words of incentives went through your head, about duty, sacrifice and hope, but you knew the look on his face, the one you had when you wanted to stay in bed all day, when you felt alone or when you felt lost. Because of that, you opted for silence.

"Shall I inform your Grace that breakfast and other meals will be made in your chambers, my prince?"

"Yes," he replied without looking up, "thank you."

You went to the Queen's chambers to inform the prince's decision, collecting a tray with bread, fruit and a cup of tea. The mornings were always busy in the Dragonstone, which calmed your concerns about possible invaders in the name of the pretender, although your steps were nothing short of fast until you returned to the chambers of the heir to the throne. This time, Prince Jacaerys was in front of the window, staring at the sea without noticing your presence. In fact, by leaving the tray on the table next to the bed you realized that the prince's look was divided between the sea and the stone frame, without paying attention to the landscape in fact. He was thinking, you assumed, deeply, madly, in an immersion that you considered dangerous and that contrasted with the fervent personality that he exhibited next to his equals. From the first day serving Prince Jacaerys, he was nothing but polite and respectful, never abusing his position to coerce you into something, something you were too grateful for.

Obviously it was not up to a servant to interfere in the thoughts of a royal member, but you thought there was nothing wrong with doing this indirectly.

“The breakfast is served, my prince,” you announced in a calm tone, staying next to the table for a few seconds before returning to last night's unfinished work.

The prince walked in silence until he sat down, thanking briefly. From your position, you had a privileged view of the queen's son, observing him discreetly as you sewed the black fabric of his tunic, not losing the way he chewed slowly under the effect of the cold breeze that entered through the window. You shuddered in the seat, using his tunic to warm up, seeing how he seemed to return to his previous state.

"Are you okay, my prince?"

He remained silent for a few seconds as he looked at you before lowering his head, sighing. "Do you believe in the possibility of victory?"

Your eyes widened with the sudden question, throat drying as you looked at him. "I... I don't know, I don't understand about war strategies, my prince," you were uncertain if the truth would be enough for him. "But I believe we have a chance."

“Just like the greens,” he added quickly, finding your look.

“Indeed.” Honestly, you avoided thinking about a possible victory of the greens, fearing that your head would not remain in your body if Dragonstone was taken. "But what I think doesn't matter, my prince."

And with that, he got lost in nothing again. The silence took over the room until you finished the work and moved to store the piece of clothing in one of the chests.

"You are dismissed for now, I wish to be alone."

Again, you were no one to contradict the prince's will, limiting yourself to lowering your head and withdrawing from his presence.

The point was: you didn't want to be alone with your thoughts. I didn't want to imagine a dragon of the greens, for the gods, Vhagar, hovering over the castle with fire and blood. You were also afraid to nap and miss the time for the prince's next meal, so you chose to help the women in the kitchen for the next few hours. Clearly questions were asked about your presence in that part of the castle. Is the prince okay? Did you notice anything different? Did he eat? Was he pale?

- "He was fine, just... he seemed dejected, not sick, but sad, reflective," that's what you replied.

"It's the war, my dear, it destroys the best of men."

That afternoon, Prince Jacarys slept with his back to the door when you brought a piece of mushroom pie and a glass of wine. The questions about his health made you get closer to the bed after leaving the tray on the table, walking slowly so as not to wake him up and touching his forehead with the back of the hand.

You expected a possible fever, not that his eyes would open and make you retreat immediately. "Apologies, m-my prince, I didn't intend to wake you up, I thought you might be sick," you justified with wide eyes, "with a fever."

"I wasn't sleeping," he simply said, pouting and looking at your feet. “And I am not sick, thank you,” he sat on the bed lazily, putting on the boots that were on the floor.

You just froze in place, terrified, thinking you had exceeded a limit not set by him. You began to take a deep breath and felt your hands tremble, although the calm with what the prince began to eat after going to the table was not consistent with your current state, although your restlessness did not go unnoticed by the prince.

"Don't worry, I'm not angry, you were just worried," he looked firmly at you. Even though your breathing had stabilized and the subject waxed, the prince seemed to have more to say. “... I just miss my brother, and how things were before. I wish I had had time to say goodbye to him, to fight for him."

Oh.

“I'm sorry for your loss, my prince, prince Lucerys didn't deserve that en-“

“I wish he was here. With me, mother, Joff and the boys...”

With caution, you leaned your hand on his shoulder, seeking to comfort him as much as possible. He seemed less tense about your touch, especially when you made a slight caress on the tunic, trying not to be intrusive.

“Thank you,” he whispered, and then, unintentionally, he hit his hand against the wine glass and dropped it on his lap, making you immediately look for a cloth to clean it as he stood up "It was my fault," he said.

"I will clean," you knelt in front of him, cleaning the excess liquid carefully so as not to approach his male region, although most of the liquid has accumulated there...

Seven hells.

You took a deep breath when you realized the proximity and the position you were in, along with the same static prince watching everything with wide eyes. Heavens. "Y-you should change, my prince, I... I will wait o-outside," you stood up and walked away in a jump, heart beating faster than you could bear, head spinning when you withdrew from his cameras faster than Sir Sylak, you could question. What did you just do? May the Mother have mercy.

You were scandalized with yourself, wondering what was going on in the prince's head after your actions. Would he request an exchange of servants? Would I accuse you for trying to take advantage of him? Or because it's inappropriate? Oh gods!

Your presence at the time of collecting the dishes and the damaged pants was almost imperceptible, entering the room like a rushed ghost and withdrawing seeking not to be seen, even if he did not notice the prince sniffing your trail like a hound throughout the situation. After leaving the dishes in the kitchen and washing the prince's pants in person, you went to the rest rooms and threw yourself back on your bed. All your choices throughout the day were hasty, by the seven hells, what was happening to you?

Honestly, you feared for the prince's reaction when you returned to his quarters with dinner.

Maybe he would limit himself to dispensing your services politely. Perhaps he would report to the queen personally about the inappropriate acts of his servant and some measure would be taken. What if you were assigned to be a silent sister? For the gods, that would be more than cruel.

When the time of the bat came, you went restlessly through the corridors with the dinner of the heir to the iron throne, willing to beg for forgiveness if necessary.

The prince read a book next to a candle holder near the window, finding your look as soon as the door was opened. You went to the table and put the tray in the same place, facing the floor as the prince approached.

“I wish to talk to you, my lady.”

Oh no, oh no!

He stopped a few steps away from you. "Thank you, for the words of comfort earlier, I appreciate it. And the situation with the wine - you just wanted to help."

"I didn't want to act inappropriately, my prince, please accept my apologies, it won't happen again!" You responded immediately, faster than you intended.

"We're all acting strangely, I don't blame you. We are living moments that challenge us with fear, impotence and uncertainty, which are not limited to the crown, but to all of us," he came closer, speaking quietly. "The war is upon us and I can only think about it - every day - since my mother's throne was usurped, every hour... I just want to be useful and find a way out of this situation, for me, for mother, for Baela, for Luke and for our people."

Oh...

You - you knew you shouldn't and even tried to contain the impulse that made your hand go to his shoulder, as you had done before. Maybe he just needed that: to be heard. With thoughtful eyes, you encouraged him to continue.

"I can't think of anything else," he continued, looking down, "my head hurts everyday when I wake up, but I need to stand up."

"Did you tell Master Gerardys, my prince?"

"I don't want to worry the Queen," he sighed, still looking down.

"The queen will be worried if the worst happens," you gently squeezed his shoulder, which limited itself to touching his hands to silence for a few seconds.

“I just hope we can win,” he whispered.

"I pray to the gods every night for that," daring as you shouldn't, you touched the side of his face before picking it up for yourself. "You must eat and rest, my prince."

Mirroring your attitude, the prince held the left side of your face with determined eyes and welcoming touch. “Thank you.”

But the spark of something you didn't know how to differentiate between uncertainty and expectation was present in the brown eyes of the prince of Dragonstone.

What if that helped in something in your sleep? You doubted it a lot.

——————————————————————————

taglist: @hxtd @fkanita

[heizlut]

Hello! Can I plz request where Aether, Venti, Gorou, Kazuha, Itto, and Diluc find out that their s/o is a submissive in bed?

ooo i like this!!! thanks for sending this in!

tags: gn sub!reader, dom!characters, rut (itto), worship kink (venti), no use of y/n

cw: semi-public in diluc and venti’s sections

nsfw under the cut

Aether~

Aether was so happy to have an s/o who could keep up with him as he travelled across Teyvat. It seemed he never had to worry about you no matter what dangers you faced together. You were headstrong, always taking the initiative when it came to accepting commissions and speaking up for the both of you when someone’s request was particularly unreasonable. You certainly were not afraid to express your distaste when a request was quite..stupid for lack of better words. Aether didn't mind letting you take the lead when it came to those decisions, secretly cheering you on when you spoke your unfiltered thoughts and feelings.

After a tiring day of getting absolutely no where in finding his sister, Aether was particularly pent up with frustration. He tugs you close to his body as he begins pressing feverish kisses to your neck, "Need you now.." You moan softly, tilting your head to give him better access, "Want me to make you feel better?" He pulls away slightly, looking into your eyes with a smirk, "Oh yeah? How about you get on your knees for then?" Aether challenged you, only half-joking, not thinking you would actually do as he said. His eyes widen slightly as he watches you obediently sink to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with such a submissive look in your eyes as you wait for his next instruction. He can't help the way his cock throbs in his pants seeing his headstrong s/o being so submissive for him. Growing slightly impatient with him, you open your mouth sticking your tongue out showing that you were absolutely serious about this. He tugs his pants down just enough to let his aching cock out, all leaky and throbbing. Aether guides his dick to your mouth, tapping it on your tongue as if to test how patient and obedient you would truly be. When you don't move on your own, he smirks and pushes his length into your mouth as he begins to fuck your throat, letting his frustrations melt away, "So good for me... fuck."

Venti~

Your relationship with Venti had the very obvious dynamic of golden retriever and black cat, with him being the golden retriever and you being the black cat. The people of Mondstadt are often baffled at the sight of you two together, wondering how such a cheerful bard could be with someone so... intimidating. Venti often joked that he had scary dog privileges with you by his side. Despite your outward demeanor, you were honestly quite silly and happily went along with his shenanigans. On this particular evening, you had found yourselves making out behind the Church of Favionious. Your lips press against his feverishly. You pull away slightly, looking at him with absolute adoration as you softly say, "Let me worship you properly" Venti lets out his signature laugh, his eyes hold a mischievous glint, "Oho! You wish to worship your archon~? Let's start with you worshipping Lord Barbatos on your knees then~"

Gorou~

Gorou was so proud to have such a strong warrior for an s/o. You fought by his side formidably, even helping him strategize against the Shogunates. You also weren't afraid to put any disrespectful soldiers in their place. He had to admit that your strong-willed and fierce attitude turned him on, but he secretly wanted to test if he could turn the tables. Gorou had no idea that watching him command other soldiers and lead the frontlines during battle had you wanting him desperately to show that side of him to you in the bedroom.

That night you approach his tent with a rather shy look on your face which instantly catches Gorou's attention. He rushes over to you checking you over for anything that might be causing you to behave this way when suddenly you gently cup his face in your hands, "Gorou.. I want to try something new.." You trail off, a blush falls over your cheeks as Gorou looks at you a little confused, "Something new? You mean you have a new battle strategy?" You shake your head, forcing yourself to look up at him, "I.. want you to command me like how you command the other soldiers.. I want you to... Take control of me.." Gorou's face heats up at your words, his cock begins to harden as he processes your words. His face quickly morphs into a sly smile as he pulls you close to him, his hand holding your chin with slight pressure as he tilts your face up to his, "You want me to be in charge?" He breathes out a small laugh, "Well, that can certainly be arranged. Now be good for me and get on the bed. Now."

Kazuha~

Kazuha enjoyed watching you help Beidou dish out orders to the other crew members. You looked like such a sweetheart, but you had quite the sharp tongue, never failing to catch unsuspecting people off guard. They never thought the s/o of gentle wanderer Kazuha to be so sharp with their words when the situation called for it. When you and Kazuha finally have your first intimate moment with each other, the poet of many beautiful words is suddenly...at a loss for words when you tell him that you prefer to be the submissive one. Kazuha takes your hand in his, pressing a kiss on top of it, "And here I thought you would be the one to want to take the lead... Not that I mind this development at all. In fact, I'm rather pleased." He leans forward pressing a kiss to your cheek and lowers his voice for only you to hear, "Although, I hope you realize what you've just signed yourself up for, darling."

Itto~

Itto loved being with you so much. You weren't afraid to get into a bit of trouble with him and the rest of the Arataki gang. Often times people would mistake you or Kuki as the actual leader of the gang with the way they would watch you both take charge of them in your own ways, with you leading the mischief and Kuki chastising you all when you get yourselves in trouble with the Shogunates.

It was nearing spring time which meant Itto would have to hide himself away from you, not wanting to overwhelm you with the rut he would have to endure as an oni, especially when you two haven't gone further than making out and feeling each other's bodies. You were concerned when Itto didn't show up today for the onikabuto battle he promised you, so you make your way towards his home completely oblivious to his rut. You barge right in as you usually would only to be quickly tackled to the ground by a large body, "Gah! Itto! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" You look up at your oni boyfriend only to notice his eyes are darkened with lust, "Sorry... Couldn't help myself. I.. need you" He ruts against your core causing you to let out a pathetic sounding whimper as he whispers apologies over and over, "It's my rut. Spring makes us oni a little..." You place your finger over his lips, "You don't have to explain. Use me however you please." Itto's movements halt momentarily, "Y'really mean that? Don't go saying stuff like that right now..." You roll your hips upwards to meet his, "Please..." A low growl rips from his throat as he tears your clothes off with his sharp nails. You definitely weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Diluc~

Having you as his s/o is like a sigh of relief. So many of his burdens with the winery and Angel's Share seem to lift from his shoulders when you take the initiative in organizing client orders and business deals so that he can have some reprieve. His heart swells with pride when you have no qualms in kicking out particularly rowdy guests from the tavern or even straight up denying Kaeya and Venti of more alcohol when they've clearly had more than enough of their fair share (and when Venti's tab has clearly met its limit).

After the tavern closes for the night, Diluc watches as you bend forward over a table while wiping it down and feels his cock stir to life. He approaches you hesitantly as he wants your first time with him to be meaningful. You straighten up only to feel him and his hardening cock pressed against your back. You bite your lip as you turn around to face him, looking up at your lover as he stares down at you with desire burning in his eyes. He gently caresses your cheek and softly asks, "May I kiss you?" You smile at his gentle approach to intimacy and you nod. He leans forward, softly pressing his lips to yours and then pulls away, "Was that okay?" You let out a soft laugh and place your hand on his chest, "Diluc... You don't have to be so gentle with me you know. I would do anything you want, no questions asked. I just want to make you happy and make you feel good." Your words make him pause, "Anything...I want?" You laugh softly again and repeat your words as you look up at him with love in your eyes, "Anything you want. No questions asked." He doesn't spare another minute in hoisting you up onto the table, immersing you both in hungry kisses and rough but sensual touches. You really have no idea what you've just sparked to life inside of him. Diluc can only hope you truly meant what you said because he wasn't going to hold back now.

a/n: pretty sure i blacked out while writing diluc and aether’s sections🥴 i tried to keep them as in character as i possibly could and i think i succeeded? i hope you liked this, anon!

[trensu]

Have a snippet from that one holy warrior au. thanks to @ent-is-indecisive for helping me come up with a title for this fic. i'll be tagging it as stasis in darkness for easy tracking. this is part of a rough draft so it probably will be modified by the time i finish the damn thing and make it ao3 ready. but my brain's kind of stuck and needs a kickstart to get it going again, so i thought i'd share it and hopefully get motivated again

It happened again.

–

The fourth night:

“Isn't it true the King of Darkness–”

“Lord of Night.”

“Yeah, him. He controls all the monsters in the dark and sets them on innocent people for fun. Don’t see why you’d want to throw your lot in with a god like that.”

“Because he doesn’t. He takes care of nighttime animals. Bats, coyotes, owls…”

“The scary ones, you mean.”

“No! Besides, he takes care of cats, too. Cats aren’t scary. They’re, you know, cute.”

“Hmm. If you say so.”

“What’s that supposed to mean? You got something against cats?”

“Of course not!" The man said, sounding mildly offended. Steve opened his mouth to go on about the Lord of Night's chosen creatures but the man interrupted with, "Well, look at the time! Later, gator.”

The man ran off with a grin not sparing him a second glance. Steve stared after him, baffled.

“What the fuck’s a gator?”

–

The fifth night:

“Don't you know your King, excuse me, Lord of Darkness–”

“Night. Lord of Night.”

“Same thing. He helps criminals evade justice. Pretty sure that one’s true.” The man lounged lazily on a nearby boulder as he asked. Kind of like a cat, Steve noticed with a trace of amusement that was easily smothered by annoyance at the man's…everything else.

“He helps people who travel by night. Most of the time they’re just night workers or people with nowhere to go. The ones that are shunned for being different or the ones too poor to afford safe shelter.”

“Huh. Alright, explain the horse thief thing, then, if he’s so good and noble.”

“...fine, he’s got a soft spot for horse thieves but thievery isn’t that bad of a crime in the grand scheme of things.”

“Ha! Sure,” the man conceded. “But! You can’t deny that this Lord of Night cursed people with terrible nightmares that left them sleepless and suffering for days. To the brink of lunacy, some say.”

The man said it with triumph, as if with this he’d finally break Steve’s faith. Steve shrugged. 

“All gods get angry.”

“And that’s okay? You’re fine with him inflicting mind torture on some poor mortal just because he threw a tantrum?”

“First off, he wouldn’t just throw a tantrum," Steve said with exasperation. He might end up throwing a tantrum if this guy persisted. "I don’t think he’s the kind to get angry easily. And second, the people he cursed before always deserved it. Besides, he helps with good dreams, too. It’s not all bad.”

“Uh-huh, I totally believe you," the man said, heavy with mockery.

“Look man, if you’re so against the Lord of Night, why are you still here? Why do you keep coming back and bothering me?”

“...curiosity?”

“Well, be curious quietly. I need to pray.”

“...he probably doesn’t even have prayers.”

“I said shut up, man. I need to concentrate.”

The man leaves without any more fuss. 

–

The sixth night:

“You have a lot of faith in a god who lost his own name. Does he even have any holy texts left?”

“Dustin could only find one, but that was enough.”

“Really? Other gods have entire libraries of stories and whole tomes of holy words. They have temples and monasteries all across the land of mortals.” The man motioned derisively at the crumbling statue. "This thing here is barely a shrine!"

“Hey, I'm working on that, alright? It's going to look great when I'm done with it," Steve protested. "And so what if he doesn't have more? Robin says quantity’s got nothing to do with quality.”

“Yeah, but the other gods are remembered for a reason. That counts for something,” the man's voice lost some of that smug edge. He fiddled with the hem of his fraying shirt as he spoke. 

Steve refused to rise to the bait. He responded calmly, but firmly.

“I don’t need libraries to know I want to carry his symbol. From what Robin and Dustin found, he represents all the things my friends taught me were important.” Steve pauses. "I’m not a good reader anyway so less books are better for me.” 

"Oh, so that's why you picked him! Very convenient," The man sounded very amused. Steve ignored him until he heard the man wander away for the night. He sighed in relief.

With a surge of restless energy leftover from being very good and calm about that nuisance of a man, Steve approached the statue elevated on its crumbling plinth. He reached up towards its open hand held at its side, barely within reach, and brushed his fingers along the worn knuckles. 

"That guy's wrong about you, I know he is,” Steve whispered, fervently. “You deserve a temple. A hundred of them, all for your own."

Steve thought, for a moment, he heard a sharp intake of breath, but when he looked there was no one but him around. 

“I’ll make sure you get a great temple."

He waited, strained his ears for even a single word from his god. He tried not to be disappointed when he heard nothing. Again.

–

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[somethingclevermahogony]

Get to Know Me Tag Game Thing

I was tagged by @loksthegreat ! Thank you!

1. are you named after anyone? Yep, my grandpa. I'm technically the 2nd. Same first, middle, and last names.

2. when was the last time you cried? Hard to say? I guess that depends on what you count as crying? I'm sure I've made myself tear up over some fictional scenerio some time in the last week. As far as a real cry goes, probably last year when my grandpa passed.

3. do you have kids? Not yet, but hopefully soon

4. what sports do you play/have you played? I did track and field, specifically I ran dashes and did hurdles. Jeez how things have changed... I also did tai chai in a class taught by a nun for a while if that counts?

5. do you use sarcasm? A bit

6. what’s the first thing you notice about someone? Honestly probably the eyes.

7. eye color? Greyish-Green

8. scary movies or happy endings? Happy Endings or Bad Scary movies. I don't really get scared by horror films, so if I'm gonna watch one I want it to be kinda fun and campy.

9. any talents? I've been told I'm a good cook, can't really think of much else off the top of my head

10. where were you born? Spokane, WA, USA

11. hobbies? Reading, writing, useless world-building, trying to draw, cooking, getting lost, DnD with my partner, falling down archaeological rabbit-holes

12. any pets? Not allowed in our flat, does a basil plant count?

13. height? 5'10 but my hair adds an extra inch or two, depending on how fluffy it is that day.

14. favorite school subject? History

15. dream job? Archaeology professor and author

Okay, I apparently need to tag 15 people, here goes. I'm gonna cheat and tag my partner first. @persnickety-peahen, @patienceofstone, @patternwelded-quill, @peresephones, @theprissythumbelina, @the-octic-scribe, @foragedbonesblog, @infinnative, @illarian-rambling, @scribble-dee-vee, @hallowedfury, @lord-nichron, @unrepentantcheeseaddict, @flaneurarbiter, and @abalonetea Anyone else who is interested can also do this!

[romanarose]

If You Wanna Be Wild: Chapter 1

Javier Peña x sex worker!informant!Reader/OC x Santiago Garcia

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Summary: Javier has his ladies, and you are one of his favorites. When he gets a new partner to take down Lorea, a man 10 years younger than him, Javi suggests the boy let off some steam with a prosititute, Javi was not expecting Santi to find his favorite girl.

Content and warnings for whole fic, not chapter by chapter unless something is added: Sex work, drug trade, some drug use/pressured used, sex workers and the mistreatment/stigma surrounding them specifically in the 70’s (my blog is sex worker positive) but ima put potential dub con depending how you look at it as a sex worker who works with dangerous men, some action surrounding reader and the guys and the drug trade, SMUT HEAVY, corruption kink (were corrupting santi here, he’s young, 25), no loss of virginity tho, threesomes, some slight m/m smut but that’s not the focus here, but as you know this blog is an lgbt blog so I’m always open to gay shit. Talk of war and some PTSD but I won't be going a whole lot into it.

For the record, this is a fic that takes place in the drug trade and deals with the darker side of humanity, so anything from Narco's and Triple Frontier is liable to be discussed or mentioned here. This is your warning. This is not a dark fic nor is it centered around darkt hemes like Leather and Lace or Sunshine Starlight Sweetheart Brightside, but they are open to be talked about.

Reader has a nick name: Candy. Not her real name just what she goes by on her profession. Much of the inspo for this and for the title came from the Bruce Springsteen song “Candy’s room” so check it out for the vibes.

Reader speaks Spanish and had hair, might be considered Latina coded but given it's a fic taking place in Colombia that much can be gleaned anyway.

4.1K Words. Plenty of perspective shifts from reader javi and santi. When told from javi and santis pov it’s third person and reader is referred to as she/her and candy

***************

When Javier came inside you, it was quicker than usual. He must be on a time crunch. Not that you were complaining, Javier had gotten you off and that was more than most clients did, seeing as they were paying for their orgasm, not yours. It was only fair, it’s not like you were in this business for fun, you were trying to survive. 

And survive you had! You’d done better for yourself than many of your fellow prostitutes, able to get out of a brothel where you were pimped out by shitty men who took more than their fair share of your money and a little side action for themselves. You’d saved up enough money to rent an apartment where you could do your own business for yourself and answer to no man except the ones who paid for your time. Being beautiful helped in this business, absolutely, but there were no lack of pretty girls, many of the workers on the streets and in brothels were plain or just ugly. It didn’t matter to the men who were just looking for a 5 minute fuck. Where your skills came was the inter-person. Sex, for most people anyway, was better when there was a connection of some sort; even those big scary drug lords like many of those you serviced liked to feel human connection, needed to know you wouldn’t laugh at them for their weird kinks, and sometimes just wanted to talk.

That is, you suspected, is why Javier Peña fucked you instead of the other girls around. Well, he definitely fucked other girls. But you got a good chunk of his time.

“Damn, Javi,” You laugh as he sets you down from where he had you up against the wall. “Only one position this time? You getting old?”

He laughs, breathless, making sure you were steady on your feet before he walked over to his pants. “Definitely old, but that’s not why. Gotta be up early to meet my new partner.” Javier, dark and gorgeous and a man of few words, yanked up his pants loose over his petite hips and pulled his pack of cigs and lit it before tossing them in your direction. You didn’t smoke a lot, but cigarettes after sex with Javi always hit just right. 

“Good luck with that. You’ve ran off the last 6.” Javi wasn’t the nicest man in the DEA, you knew; he wasn’t exactly loved and people weren’t jumping to work with him. Well, men weren’t anyway. 

A few years ago, he had a partner, Steve, and the two had gotten along damn well. Since then, Javi’s been going through partners like crazy. In the years since Pablo Escabar’s fall, cocaine has not stopped. You’d know, given that you’d partook just last weekend at an event.

“He’s gonna be the worst yet, I just know it.” Javi grumbled before taking a long drag and sitting on the couch where you joined him, legs propped up over his. “Some fresh-faced dumbass kid that’s never seen what the world is like outside his moms tits.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes at him. You’d never do that with other clients; they needed to feel important, listened to. Javier didn’t care about that. “How old?”

“25.”

You laugh right in his face. “25 is hardly a kid, my brother had seen it all by the time he was 15!”

“Yeah, that’s because your family-” He stopped, looking to you before deciding better than to complete that sentence. “Never mind,” Javi muttered.

“Smart boy.”

*

Javier Peña wouldn’t describe himself as hard to work with.

Others would, however.

Sometimes they took issue with his womanizing, but Javier contested this, saying he always paid the women more than fair, never seduced married women, never pressured or coerced.

 He simply paid women for what they had, and instead of them spending the night with some asshole who wanted a quick fuck, someone who might hurt them, or an otherwise unpleasant night, they got to spend it with him. Not that Javi thought he was hot shit, but at least he could treat the girl right, make them cum. Additionally, he watched out for the women he slept with. Not all were his informants, but all of them could call him if they were in trouble.

The rest of them just couldn’t do what it took and couldn’t fire back what Javi shot out, not like Steve. Asshole. Asshole for leaving him. 

This kid was going to be no better, but at least he could speak spanish.

He hoped.

Last name was Garcia, but those American’s often can’t speak their mother tongue, especially if they are third generation.

The boy that walked in was already annoying him with his stupid mustache. Javi’s mustache wasn’t stupid, let’s get that straight. He looked good in a mustache. This kid looked stupid.

“Agent Garcia, nice to meet you.” The boy looked nervous as he reached a hand out to him.

“I’m not calling you that.” Great start, Javier. Great start.

“Oh. Uhhhh…”

“I’m Javi.”

“Santi, I guess.”

Santi looked a little deflated, he was probably looking forward to being called ‘Agent Garcia’, and Javi only felt a little bad. He remembered being that fresh-faced kid, so he threw him a bone. Javier leaned against his desk, arms crossed. “What brought you out here, Garcia?”

He brightened up just a bit at being referred to by his last name at least. “Just got out of the military, special ops.” He said proudly. “Wanted to come back to my mom’s home country, make a difference.”

Interesting bit of lore, there, and Javi couldn’t decide if it made him like the kid more or not. One one hand, the comment about his mom with a twinkle in his eye was endearing, but just showed that naivete he had. On the other, being in special ops was no small accomplishment and he was certain Santi had seen at least his fair share of death.

“No woman keeping you down?”

“No sir,” he stood with his hands clasped tight behind his back as if Javi was his drill sergeant. “My work doesn’t leave much time for that sort of thing.”

Javi wondered briefly if he was a virgin, he’s met a few military types who were into their later years, but decided it was none of his business.

That didn’t last long.

Santi did fine. It was fine. Better than fine, actually, and after a few months the DA was less irritated with Javi running off men and put the pair on a case; something he hadn’t had since Escobar. Gabriel Martin Lorea was someone who had made one hell of a name for himself in recent years, many considering him a successor to Escabar, but Lorea had yet to dip his toes into politics the way his predecessor had, and Lorea would never be too powerful without is fingers in the pockets off government and lobbyists and media. Maybe he just didn’t have the charm Escabar had, the ability to manipulate and sway… Gabriel Lorea was, from all accounts, handsome, but, according to the women Javi slept with and absolutely not Javi himself, too handsome to gain people's trust.

Javi didn’t hate Santi, he did good work and had skills to match, but christ the boy was optimistic, he tended to believe the best in people and that had gotten them into some problems as well, but nothing so much that Javier had taken issues with the kid, not when Santi was able to get them out of there alive.

 It was nice, honestly, to have someone he could talk to just a little bit. He’d be lying if he said it hadn’t gotten lonely, and it took a lot for Javier to swallow his pride and call Steve, but luckily Steve took mercy and just called him once a month or so. 

Thing was, sometimes Santi got a little pent up, his polite and calm demeanor slipping and taking it out of Javi usually. 

“Jesus, Garcia, what’s up with you?”

Santi had snapped at Javi over a joke Javi made about Santi putting sugar in his coffee. He had a guilty look as soon as he was chastised, looking like a caught kid. 

“Sorry, Javi…”

“Oh come on” He ruffled the young man’s curls before Santi shoved him away to smooth them down again. “What’s on your mind, someone play with your Flash Gordon action figures?”

“You have no idea what kids play with, do you?”

Javier just cocked an eyebrow at him, and Santi continued.

“Just been stressed is all.”

Thinking back to their first conversation, Javi wondered when the last time Santi got some was. He was a good looking guy, that was just obvious, didn’t have to be gay to figure that out, and he had a good job. There was no reason he couldn’t  get a one night stand, a girlfriend, or a damn wife if he wanted. Santiago was kind, empathetic, and the nice smile that women would fall head over heels for; Santi doesn’t see how the girls swoon over him, even Colleen who was well over Javier’s antics.

“When was the last time you got your dick wet.”

Santi’s coffee went everywhere, staining his cream colored shirt and the nice slacks he refused to trade in for jeans like Javier did.

“W- I- WHAT?!”

He was laughing so hard, Javi couldn’t fucking get a reply out for a minuet, every time Javi looked over to Santi, covered in coffee and eyes wide in horror, he kept laughing more. When he finally calmed down, Javi tossed over some napkins. “Sex, Santi. Sex. It’s normal we all do it. Or maybe you don’t, which is why I’m asking.”

Santiago wouldn’t look at him, shuffling a bit as he tried to dab himself clean. “Well… well it maybe- it might have… it might have been a while.”

“Garcia.” Javier turned to face Santi, attempting to catch his eye. “Man. How long’s it been? A few months? Since you came here.”

He muttered something, and at first Javi wasn’t sure he heard right.

“What was that?”

“Three years?”

Javi about spit out his own coffee after that. Three years? Javier didn’t like going more than three days!

“Are you kidding me?”

“Oh fuck off.” Santi was none too pleased with the prodding, but Javi followed after him, teasing his way down the hall. “It’s gotta be for lack of trying, isn’t it?”

“Go away!”

“Pretty boy like you, all you gotta do is walk down to a bar and ladies will be throwing themselves at you!”

“Fuck off!”

“You could just do it the old fashioned way.”

Santi stopped, turning on a heel so fast Javi crashed into him, too distracted by his goading.

“What does that mean?”

“Hire a woman. Or a man. Or a few, I don’t pass judgment.” He smirked, knowing the teasing was working.

A look of disgust crossed his face, youthful features crinkling. “A prostitute?” He was whispering.

“Yeah Garcia, a PROSTITUTE.” An intentional shout to embarrass the blushing virgin. “It’s not a dirty word, amigo.”

Santi’s eyes went wide at Javi’s emphasis, looking around to see if he had been caught. “How are you so casual?” He still spoke quietly.

Undisturbed, Javi once again leaned against a wall, shrugging. “World’s oldest profession. Nothing dirty about it. Well, if you’re using condoms, anyway.” He smirks.

It took a minute for Santi to process what he had just said. “You mean… You…” He couldn’t say it outloud.

Javi’s laugh was loud and boisterous. “Hired hookers? Yeah, of course I have.”

“I figured you could just… um… well, pick up women.”

There was a swell of pride to Javi’s words that the man thought that much of him. “I can, trust me. But to woo a woman, to find someone that wants you, trusts you enough, is enthusiastically willing… It's a long game, sometimes. A game I am more than willing to play, sometimes; I do enjoy willing a girl over, watching her open up for me, blossom… hmmmm…” He got a little distracted, words wandering off.

“I get the picture.” He said with a grimace. 

“Well, the point is, if I’m doing that, I’m doing it right. Taking my time. With hookers, I just gotta pay ‘em. Don’t worry, I make sure they enjoy their time too” Javi winked, eliciting a gag from Santi before they both went back to work.

*

A worm had been planted in Santi’s head, that was for sure. His dry spell and overall lack of experience in general was more for lack of trying than anything else. In the army, he was so career oriented, signing up for an initial 3 year term at 17 right out of high school, and quickly working his way up. When the time came to enlist for 7 years or quit and have a civilian life he never knew, the choice was easy, especially when he was promised a spot on an special ops team with his best friend. 

For 5 years he saw all the beauty and horror the world had to offer him, and was so focused on his career, so intent on making his way to general, nothing else in the world mattered. Not gambling, not women, not drugs or alcohol or any of the vices his brothers-in-arms surrounded themselves with. He’s seen his fair share of war, having of course been sent to Vietnam a few times, but his team wasn’t meant to die in a field in bloody masses like how the US government saw the poor teenagers they sent off to die in the war, they upheld: special, different, better. Santi didn’t feel better, that’s for sure. He certainly didn’t feel good watching people die on either side, nor did it make him feel special when he learned of the horrors mnn in camps would inflict on the local villagers just trying to survive. It didn’t make him feel special when Santi tried to tell his commander, Redfly, what was going on with the other men, what they were doing, and Redfly crushed him off as spoils of war… So he, Catfish, Benny and Ironhead became more and more secluded, unable to put an end to what was happening and only able to stop what they actually knew about. That’s why the four of them were so close, he supposed.

But they were never there for long. The army spent too many resources on them to put a gun in their hand and leave them to die in the jungle, no, they had no covert operations, things the CIA didn’t want out. By the end of things, Santi had dealings with Russia, Cuba, Korea, Germany, China, Japan, Chile, anywhere there was a whisper of communism that the powers that be decided were more important than everyone starving in the US, Santiago Garcia was there.

He put up with it, because he needed to, because he was going to work his way up, get in positions of power. He wouldn’t be like Tom and let rape run rampant in his men. He would keep moving up, and change things for the better. He wanted to help people.

In the end, getting shot in the neck was a good thing.

They thought he was done for, Tom telling the others to just leave him when he was shot and bleeding out but Ironhead lifted Santo over his shoulders and carried him out of the warzone himself. In the end, after hours of surgery, Santi lived, although he was never the same physically. He was honorably discharged, him and Ironhead meteled up for their silence, and with that Santi, or Pope as he’d been called was sent on his way.

“Are you able to tell me where you’re at?” Santi spoke over the phone. His old teammate, Catfish, had called him. Santi couldn’t really call any of them, he never knew where they were. Sometimes they didn’t either.

“No, sorry.”

“Not even a clue?”

“Pope, you know these phone calls are all monitored.”

“Yeah I know.”

There was a long silence. There often was, between them. When Ben called, he happily chattered away on the other line. When it was Will, there was always good back and forth. With Frank, however, his oldest friend, there was often silence, but it was always comfortable. They enjoyed just existing with each other. Frankie was a troubled man himself, and part of the reason Santi went where he went. He knew, in the end, Frank made his own choices, but a part of him held a personal anger towards the drug trade for what it sucked his friend into. 

“Frank, you ever… hire a prostitute?”

Another pause. “Sometimes. You?”

“No. My partner suggested it, he said I was a little.. Uptight.”

Frankie laughed at that, and unlike Javi he didn’t feel like he was being laughed at. Frankie never laughed at you, only with. “Yeah, sounds like you.”

“Hey now.”

Frankie thought for a minute. “Wouldn’t be the worst idea. Even Will went a few times.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, even the man of steel needs some love’n. I got the notion it was more time with his face between their legs and talking than anything else. I think he was mostly lonely.”

“You hire a hooker just for company? Seems dumb.”

“You hire a woman to listen to you, compliment you, let you feel some human connection, a feminine touch for once. Getting your rocks off is just a bonus.”

“So you think I should?”

“Look, I’m not gonna tell you to blow money on what you could probably get for free. I’ll just say… buy a condom.”

“Lot of condom talk these days.”

“Yeah, lack of condom talk is how I ended up with your goddaughter.”

“Wouldn’t trade her for the world.”

*

How does one go about finding a prostitute? It was like drugs… you kinda just needed to know someone already, or maybe run into them on the street. 

Or maybe you steal your partner’s contact list. 

Javi wasn’t subtle, that was for sure, and he had a whole separate section just for prostitutes… classless, that man. Santi flipped through the name, looking at the assortment of addresses and numbers as his heart thrummed against his chest. If he was being honest, he probably could just asked Javi for a recommendation, but he’d never get through the humiliation of it all, and Javi would never drop the subject. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for, exactly. It wasn’t like the names had pictures next to them and Javi wasn’t quit crass enough to put “Lupe, 28, hot, big tits, no ass, dick sucking 7/10”, to Santi’s slight surprise. Maybe he remembered each of them, their best and worst traits. Maybe it didn’t matter as long as he got off… 

Santi flipped through to the end, then flipped back. Then through again and back again until he was starting to feel like this was a bad idea. Just pick one, dumbass. he told himself. Go in, cum, get out. He continued his downward spiral of self loathing and insecurity until he decided to just open the book and write down the first name he saw.

Candy.

*

When Santi stood at the door, waiting to knock until exactly 9:00 PM, he was debating turning around. She sounded nice enough on the phone, a voice that put him at ease, but now facing the door… he wanted to run. 

And he almost did. Actually, he tried too,turning around and ready to make a break for it when the door opened.

“Diego?”

Oh yeah. The fake name he had given her. Santi turned around. She was beautiful, stunning even, with dark red lipstick complimenting your reflection. He wondered how she was supposed to give a blowjob with lipstick like that. Did she give blowjobs? Did prostitutes have stuff they didn’t do? Of course they do, pendejo, they’re people too. Santi’s shame at his own inner monologue must have translated to his face, guilt that what he was… what was the word his sister used? Objectifying? Was he making her out to be a thing for his pleasure instead of a woman? Was he part of the problem? His older sister had made him read a few feminist theory books back in the day. She didn’t want him growing up to be a bastard like their dad. Did his dad ever hire prostitutes?

“Are you a cop?” She said, snapping Santi out of his daze.

“Uh….” Fuck. He could lie, couldn’t he? Did she know? He looked down at his clothes to check he wasn’t wearing his badge or anything. Smooth move. “No?” Great job.”

You cross your arms and cock and eyebrow. “Then you gotta proposition me, Diego.”

He blinked. “Huh?”

“If I say it and you’re wearing a wire, I go to jail again and I doubt my friend can pull strings a 4th time, so. You make the proposition and then you can’t charge me, since it’s entrapment.”

Santi briefly wondered where she learned this, but when the weight of her words struck, he found himself with a new problem. “You… you want me too…”

A small smile crept up her face, causing her lips to twitch. “You can say it, you’re a big boy. Or at least out here you are. You wanna be babied in there,” She nods inside her room. “Well, that’s no one’s business.” Punctuating the sentence with a wink, she waits for him.

Everything felt warm all of a sudden, his mouth dry and thick and he almost couldn’t do it… but the way she looked right now… he needed her.

“Do you… want to… have sex?”

“For?”

Now he was confused. “For?

“Yeah, what am I exchanging the sex for, because you might be handsome, but it sure isn’t love. Yet.” Another wink.

“Oh! Uh… do you want to have sex… for… money?”

Santi watched as all her features relaxed, a bright smile illuminating her face and the whole room along with it. “Perfect! It sounds fucking stupid, I know, but I need to get it out of the way with new clients. Come on in, Diego.”

Candy took Santi into her room, and was surprised by the look; all around him were wall to wall posters and printed out pictures of idols spanning decades. Farrah Fawcet, Don Henly, Judy Garland, James Dean, Stevie Nicks, Mae West, Shirley Temple, Rock Hudson…

“You like ‘em?” She asked, watching him.

“Yeah… it’s quite a collection. Whose that?” He pointed to a picture in sepia tone  of a pretty girl with red curls, heart shaped lips, and thin, drawn on eyebrows.

Candy stepped up next to Santi. “Clara Bow, the original ‘It’ girl of Hollywood, a silent movie star. Lived a hell of a life too. Friend died in her arms, was sexually abused, suicide attempt, addiction… survived it all.”

“That’s incredable…” Santi’s amazement wasn’t faked.

“All these people are inspiring to me in some way or another.”

“I like… I like the James Dean one.”

She smiled at that. “I bet you would, handsome.” The picture was of James Dean laying on a motorcycle, smoking, of course. “You got a motorcycle, guapo?”

He couldn’t help but blush at the nickname. “No, a fun idea in theory… but maybe a bit too wild for me.”

“But hiring a hooker isn’t?”

Despite his desire to look cool, calm and collected, Santi gave a blushing smile. “You got me there.” 

“Now.” With grace, Candy slid right up to Santiago, touching his arms. “I take it this is your first time with a sex worker.” Her smile was soft and reassuring.

Santi let out a breath, allowing himself to ease into her touch; she was good at this, somehow looking that goddamn hot and still managed to make him feel secure, safe. “That obvious, huh?” He chuckled.

Cocking her head to the side with a sly smile, Candy’s red-painted lips drew him in as she spoke. “Professional intuition. What brings you here?”

“Uhhhmmmm… sex?”

“Be honest” Her tone… it struck him down to his core, pulling at all his mommy issues. He wanted her to tell him exactly what to do from here on out.

He cleared his throat. “Well… been a bit of a dry spell, and… well… maybe a general lack of experience in general.” Santi’s embarrassment caused him to look away, but Candy gently grabbed his chin, no doubt feeling the stubble on his face from his day off. 

“No need to be shy, pretty boy.” Candy held his gaze, mystifying him more with every second she seemed to bare into his soul, knowing all the parts of him he tried to keep secret. He was baring his soul without a word. “We’re gonna get to know each other really well here.”

***************

I HOPPPPPE YOU LIIIIIIIIKKEEEEEEEEE

Im v worried bc the tag list is already so long lololololol im scared I wont live up to the hype. (Also although I've written a lot for santi ive never written for Javi before and havnt even seen all of narcos)

thank you to @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction for helping me proofread!

I'll have a masterlist up soon bc my dearest mona is making me a moodboard bc she's the bestest

Comment to be added to the tag list!

Reblogs help spread the work, comments mean the world!

tagging everyone who asked to be atgged or showed interest in this, if you arent interested anymore just lmk and ill stop tagging you!

@runa-falls @lunar-ghoulie @campingwiththecharmings @whatthefishh @itspdameronthings @persephone-girl @criticalarchitecture @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @beelzebeth87 @pimosworld @millerscoffee @heareball @thatwonderouswoman @poolbool @meveispunk @lovable-liar @millllenniawrites @read-and-wip @missdictatorme @the-fox-den @milkymoon2483 @k-ra @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @rosellacwrites @legendary-pink-dot @dreamingofbucky @tieronecrush

[bucketsofmonsters]

Where the Light Enters - Part 1

cw: unreliable narrator, hurt/comfort, slow burn, eventual sex, enemies to lovers, past childhood sexual assault, past sex trafficking, referenced noncon, offscreen dubcon, happy ending, the tags look scary but this is mainly a story about recovery

Cole/Female Inquisitor

word count: 4k

ao3 link

Masterlist

She’d chosen the templars.

It seemed the better option. Or at least the less vulnerable one. 

Frankly, she'd barely understood what a templar was a few weeks ago. The mages seemed upset about them, but surely there were more important things than that in a war. Besides, she'd rather hide herself behind a trained militant force than these rogue witches. 

She still didn’t really understand them if she was being honest. She knew enough to see that people were afraid. No matter how evil the templars may be, at least they were stable. Maybe that was enough. 

She had hoped, assumed even, that Cullen would be doing this part. That she’d point at the templars on the map and he’d set off with his less than stellar army to collect them. That the man who’d been advocating to bring his old comrades into the fold would do the legwork and return with the mage killers and she’d be just that much safer. 

But no. She’d pointed at the map and then been sent off. They hadn’t even given her time to complain. 

Not that she would’ve. It would have ruined her perfectly crafted image of the sweet doe-eyed girl that ensured they wouldn’t throw her to the wolves. The one that changed her from a tool to a manipulable, scared girl. 

She was fine with being manipulated. So long as they thought she was weak-willed, there was no reason to hurt her. She just had to ensure that whatever was best for her was the path of least resistance for them. 

Besides, it wasn’t like she wasn’t returning the favor. The little notebook buried deep under her floorboards ran through the easiest way to get to all of them. Not to endear her to them, just to make her safe. She’d foster pity, camaraderie, desire, whatever would keep her in their good graces for the longest. 

She was always harmless. That was the one thing she had to be. Harmless above all else. Any sign of competency turned to threat under anything but the softest light. 

And yet they’d sent her fragile, bumbling self off to the templars to secure themselves some allies. Josephine had insisted she wouldn’t have to do anything, that she just had to show up while the actual soldiers being sent alongside her would do the heavy lifting. 

Iron Bull had promised much the same, posturing as he normally did. She almost always took him with her these days. He was a beast of a man who threw his weight around like it was nothing, more than happy to take blows for her. And even more importantly, he was growing incredibly fond of her, the kind of ally she needed. 

Their actual leader, the one who made the real decisions, was Cassandra. Cassandra was disinterested in coddling her, more focused on gathering troops than on the strange girl who’d inexplicably been shoved towards leadership because of an ability she’d been given by some higher power. 

Solas, the mage she’d been forced to take with her, was too busy huffing and puffing about prioritizing templars over mages. She thought about snapping at the elf, at insisting that maybe the mages should have been an organized militaristic force if they wanted to be prioritized in this fight. 

Instead, she rolled over like she always did, playing afraid until he stormed off, clearly uncomfortable with the tremor in her voice as she swore she was just trying to get the strongest possible troops so no one else would get hurt. 

Good. Let him be uncomfortable. She had never liked him much anyways. 

But even so, when they arrived at the templar camp she kept herself wedged firmly between Solas and Iron Bull, as far away from the leader of the templars, the Lord Seeker she was pretty sure he was called, as she could. 

She still didn’t fully understand who he was, couldn’t make sense of what he was doing here or why she was meant to care about him. In her defense, she hadn’t expected to be forced to come along. 

Despite her disinterest in him, despite her safe position, despite the way Bull attempted to lead the conflict, when something snapped in the Lord Seeker and he lunged forwards, he lunged at her. 

The world lurched under her feet and it felt like it had the last time, when she'd been pulled through the fade to this awful place and given the strange power that stuck her heading an army. It made her reel in her skin, her muscles and sinews feeling like they were being tugged along faster than she could keep up with, her mind stretching impossibly thin as it did.

And then she was alone. Her warriors and mages were gone, no Bull or Cassandra or Solas to keep her safe. 

Then this Lord Seeker appeared once more, and she suspected that even if she had listened when they’d told her all about the templars and their plight, she would have no better of an idea who this Lord Seeker was. 

This idea was only reinforced when the Lord Seeker began to morph, turning into eerie, hollow puppets of her now absent companions, cycling through her advisors as well. 

She allowed herself the freedom to not perform innocence for these poor mockeries of her cohorts. It seemed probable that this ‘Lord Seeker’ was a demon and as such, unlikely to respond to her usual fawning. 

So instead she got on with things, turning away from the creature that had just decided to morph itself into the face that she tried to avoid seeing in the mirror, and began moving forwards in this strange new space. 

The exploration was slow, the terrain littered with traps. The demon seemed frustrated with her persistent refusal to listen to it menace her. 

The rooms revealed little. Some had puppetted versions of the members of the Inquisition, acting out some situation or another. She decided not to devote her attention to it. It seemed to be intended to display what might happen should she die here and to be frank, she couldn’t care less. She would be dead after all. If Cullen ended up in a jail cell after she died, so be it. It would serve him right for forcing her to come here anyway. 

She explored another room, empty and strange, not sure what she was looking for. It wasn’t like she could just find a way out, she knew she was somewhere incorporeal and beyond things like exit doors. Maybe it was the fade, maybe she was in her own mind, maybe it was this demon’s territory. She didn’t much care, unless figuring it out led her to an exit any faster. 

And then, as she drowned herself in hopelessness and melancholy, a voice sounded from behind her. 

“You.”

The voice didn’t sound harsh nor antagonistic, a far cry from what she’d heard from the demon’s many faces. It was soft, almost curious in its tone. 

She turned around with wide eyes, forcing her face back into the soft façade she’d been free of whilst only under the scrutiny of the demon. 

“Thank god I found someone,” she gasped out, hoping she wasn’t laying it on too thick. “I thought I was all alone in here.”

A young man stood before her. She tried to take him in but it was difficult to due to the frankly absurd hat he was wearing. It covered most of his face, obscuring him from her, the shaggy ends of blonde hair and a stern looking mouth barely peeking out from under it. 

He also, fairly notably, was hanging from the ceiling, which did not help with the matter of the oversized brim of his well-worn hat blocking her view. 

He spoke once more, in that same gentle, inquisitive tone. It was off putting in a way it shouldn’t have been, its softness not quite managing to shield it from that. “It's not the same. Soft words, hard thoughts. You hate me. People do that but you think I’m human and you hate me anyway. Besides it, because of it. It’s hard to see, hard to understand, covered more and more, shying away from the light. The light brings eyes and the eyes bring hurt.”

“Are you inside my head?” Her tone was laced with a spite she rarely allowed to see the light of day.

He looked around. “We’re both inside your head. You’ve guessed that already.”

She shook her head. “Not here, not this place. You, what you’re saying, those are my thoughts. You’re stealing them from me.”

“Not stealing. Just seeing. Hearing.” He paused for a moment, and then said with a decisiveness she’d yet to hear from him. “You’re a bad person.”

“What are you doing in here?” she asked, brushing right past his statements, desperately searching for a way out of this. As much as she hated it, this weird creature that she’d found lingering in her mind was probably her best chance of escape. At least he didn’t seem intent on killing her.

“I grabbed onto you, when you were pulled through the fade. I wanted to go help, but getting out is hard. You made it easy but part of me is stuck up here now. You could help. If you go back I can follow you then too.”

Great, so she’d picked up some sort of mind-reading monster in the fade. She was tempted for a second to take her chances with the demon but she wasn’t stupid. She couldn’t get out on her own, and he clearly knew something. 

“What are you?” she asked, at least wanting to know what she was dealing with before she threw her life into his hands. 

“I’m Cole. What are you?”

That earned a ghost of a laugh from her, the short huff of air barely noticeable. Not that it mattered, Cole could probably feel it as she did. “I’m Rosemary.”

“You’re wrong,” he said, suddenly behind her, standing on the same floor she was on.

“About what? My name?”

“Wandering, alone, unnamed, searching for something soft on the tongue. Rosemary made people see the ghost, not the person. Rosemary earned gentle hands. What are you?” 

This was spiraling out of control faster than she could figure out how to manage it. “Can we focus on getting out of here?” she asked. “Can’t you interrogate me when there’s no imminent threat on our lives?”

Then he breathed a word out like he couldn’t decide if it was a prayer or a curse, like it was a horrible truth that had just occurred to him. “Britches.”

Her head snapped towards him, a tension she’d long since trained out of herself rearing its ugly head. “Where did you hear that?”

“You told me. It echoes in your head, the closest thing to you that there is. It’s so far, fleeting, fading. But it’s almost you.”

“We need to leave,” she practically pleaded with him. “Can we please just get out of here?”

“I’ve never heard someone who wasn’t a who before. Where did it go?”

“I promise I’ll answer all your questions when we get out. Please, we need to go.” She wasn’t above begging. There was very little she was above, in all honesty. 

His head tilted once more, as if considering asking about that thought, before deciding the promise of honesty in the future was worth more. 

“It wants your face,” he declared. “It would hurt more than you ever could, claw the people apart instead of just holding. You want to leave. I can help.”

“You can get me out of here?”

He didn’t even bother to nod, just continued speaking in his strange little riddles. “You need to make it more. Right now it’s just a few. The further you go, the further it stretches.”

“Why would I want to make it bigger?”

“The smaller it is, the closer together the power. You have to stretch it thin.”

Right, so she just needed to keep moving and eventually something in this seemingly endless demon would snap. 

She didn’t need him for that, she could travel on her own. 

His head tilted as the thought passed through her head. “We’re in you already. If you leave me behind, I stay. You want me to go so you can’t leave me.”

He was right. As much as she didn’t want to travel with this weird creature, leaving him festering inside her head seemed infinitely worse. 

“Alright then Cole, we’d better start walking.”

He nodded but did not move. “We will need to fight.”

“You will need to fight. There’s not much I can do.”

“No. You don’t fight, you move softer. Sneaking, slipping, stealing. You only have to roll over if you get caught.”

“I wish you’d stop doing that,” she said, and her voice was instinctually softer. He paid her no regard. 

“I can be quiet. We can move softly together.”

She hoped the creature actually understood what it was saying, that it could be as stealthy as it promised. Or at least hoped that it could fight. 

He still didn’t move and she wondered if he was waiting for her to go first. 

She turned and took a few steps out the door, hearing no footsteps sound behind her. 

When she turned, Cole was nowhere to be found.

A voice came from right behind her, outside of the doorway. “Should we not leave?”

She whipped around and glared at him. He didn’t seem to react to the look at all. 

To be fair, she wasn’t very intimidating. She had little practice at being menacing and she most certainly was not a natural. 

Emboldened by the fact that he did not seem to need to move to follow her, she set out, walking out the door, blowing right past him.

A scream sounded from her left and Cole said, “Keep going straight. It wants you to wind around and around and around so it doesn’t have to stretch.”

His voice echoed and she wasn’t sure if it was an audible noise or not. She turned to where it felt like it had come from and there he was, walking alongside her. 

The sound of her footsteps remained the only ones in the hall as the two of them walked. 

“We should move quietly,” she said. 

He looked around as he moved. “Envy can’t hear me. It doesn't know I’m here. You wouldn’t have either.”

“If not for safety then maybe you should be quiet for my own sanity.”

“You’re not going insane,” he declared. “You are frustrated.”

“You don’t seem to mind.”

“No,” he said. “You can be frustrated if you’d like.”

“No,” she informed him, although she imagined he knew already. “I would not like.”

She turned to look at him and saw a glimpse of his eyes under his hat, a little wrinkle formed between them. “Then you should stop.”

“You first,” she huffed. 

“The Iron Bull is out there,” he said, undeterred by her clear irritation. “He isn’t bad but he brings hurt anyway.”

She decided to try a more direct approach. “Can you shut up?”

“If you let them bite, then it doesn’t count. It only hurts if they take it, if you allow it it's still yours.”

She stopped with a jolt, whipping around to scold him. “If you can see everything in my head, why do you keep talking? You know what’s up there and I know what's up there so what exactly are we achieving?”

“I have thoughts too,” he said, almost wistfully.

“Really? I have yet to hear them. You instead seem intent on airing every thought I’ve ever had as obtusely as you can.”

“It’s hard. Your thoughts are so loud. You’re very angry.”

She huffed as she stormed onwards. “Wouldn’t you be?”

“I don’t know. I think the hurt would make me help. It just makes you want to dig your claws in and hold.”

“Fucking irritating little creature, that’s what you are. I’ll be glad when I get out of this and I never have to see you again. Then you can stew on my rotten thoughts as long as you’d like.”

His head cocked to the side. “You’re not convinced we’re inside you. You still hope this could be the fade. You think I may belong here, that I might stay.”

“Frankly, I don’t care where you go. I know you’re not staying with me though.”

“We’re tethered.”

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You can see in my head, right? Do you really think they’re going to believe a demon over me? You’ll be killed in a heartbeat. Which is fine by me, no skin off my back.”

“A bad person,” he muttered to himself, hands flexing and unflexing slowly, rhythmically as he spoke. She wasn’t sure if he even knew he was doing it. 

He went silent as they heard the shouting of troops. Cole faded away and she took to the shadows. 

If this really was her mind, which she was not ready to wholeheartedly believe on the word of some creature, then she had no idea how stealth worked here. Was it really as simple as being quiet and hiding away? Surely in this space that the demon allegedly created, it could sense where she was. 

And yet she watched soldiers run in front of her, looking desperately for someone to fight as she slunk further into the artificial landscape. 

Cole made himself scarce from there on out, occasionally warning her with that strange, disembodied voice to turn now or to avoid the room ahead, although never in such clear terms. 

Eventually, she realized where she’d ended up. She was where she’d begun, where the Lord Seeker, or perhaps the envy demon, had lunged at her past her several bodyguards, most of which were standing protectively in front of her.

It wanted her. She wasn’t sure why. Maybe because of her perceived position of power. Maybe because of whatever this ability was that the fade had given her seemingly at random when she’d been pulled here.

It didn’t really matter, at the end of the day. She just needed to get out. 

And at the top of all those staircases was a dead end where she had been attacked. 

She looked around as the sound of battle-ready troops got louder. 

“Cole,” she hissed. “Where do I go?”

His voice sounded from above and she looked up to find him in the palm of a massive statue. 

“You remember it wrong. The statues don’t have faces here. You didn’t care to look.”

“I still don’t. We have more important things to be worrying about than what some weird statues look like.”

“It should end where it began. You must escape in the center.”

She made the mistake of turning her head, of looking nervously towards the false templars that resided down the stairs. 

When she looked back up, she was alone again. 

Or at least she hoped she was, looking around nervously, checking for any signs of an aggressor. 

But demons didn’t play fair. 

Before she could so much as catch sight of it, the faux Lord Seeker was slamming her back into the wall, hands tight around her throat. 

The face looking back at hers was the half-familiar one from the mirror once more, one she tried to avoid looking at at all costs. 

It was typically unfair, she supposed. To be forced to look at an imitation of herself as she died. 

She kicked and flailed, trying to break from his grasp, to get away by any means possible, but she knew it was a losing fight. She could feel the strength in its hands that far exceeded hers. 

Cole’s voice sounded from right beside her. “He is afraid of you.”

She could see no sign of him out of the corner of her eye as she thrashed in the demon's hold, but she could hear him perfectly. 

The fight began to drain out of her, sinking into herself as her kicks lost all their power. 

And then the hands around her throat went stiff and the world folded in on itself. 

She collapsed to the ground the second she saw Iron Bull in front of her, pulling the Lord Seeker away from her. She heaved in air where she sat, clutching her chest as she did, eyes beginning to water. 

It wasn’t her best performance, a bit overdone. She honestly could have just reacted as she would naturally but the sudden appearance of her companions had thrown her. In her defense, it was a sudden shift and she’d been preoccupied with other things. 

The strange creature with the stupid hat was nowhere to be seen. She wasn’t sure if she hoped he was still trapped back wherever they had been or not. She certainly didn’t want him lingering in her head but having a mind-reading creature roaming around would prove an ever greater problem. 

Bull carried her inside as the other two talked about a demon and some transformation she hadn’t been privy to, instead caught up in her own dramatics. 

He tucked her away on a chair in the corner as Solas said something, probably whining about her. Cassandra gave her a firm order to stay put and they left her inside, amidst the templars.

She stayed tucked in her corner, choking down any panic that might want to arise. 

She didn’t like being alone with groups of men, let alone groups of men that she didn’t know and hadn’t built any repertoire with.  

The fight was over fast. She stayed dutifully in her corner, not one to disobey orders. When it was over, Cassandra and Bull returned for her, Solas presumably off worrying about more important things than her. 

Cassandra did not let Bull carry her any longer, insisting she was fine without giving her the chance to speak. She rose to her feet, despite her plan to feign weakness a little longer. She didn’t want to upset Cassandra.

Cassandra dragged her back to their control room to debrief about the mission, where she would inevitably try to pull something approximating leadership out of her once more. 

It wouldn’t work. She knew any attempt to lead would upset more people than it would please.

It was safer to be weak. 

Cullen was upset about something, which didn’t make sense to her considering she’d helped his precious templars first. Josephine was upset too, not that she’d ever admit it. But a liar recognizes a liar and that calm voice was as put on as it could be. Leliana was endlessly practical, so presumably she was telling her something important. She barely listened to any of it, instead focusing on clutching her uninjured stomach in faux pain, hoping that the hands that had been around her neck left bruises, despite having been in that world between worlds. 

And then their typical, predictable chatter turned to something more panicked and she looked up to find Cole sitting on their table.

Her eyes shifted from an impression of someone trying to be brave about their pain to a very real panic, lurching away from him before she could think. 

Swords were being drawn in the blink of an eye and she did her best to position herself behind Cullen. He was already the fastest to the draw and Cole was too dangerous to her. Hopefully, if he felt he had something to protect he would be even more likely to end this creature now, before Cole could become a problem. 

“You left,” Cole said, looking straight at her, the weapons pointing at him not seeming to concern him at all.

All heads turned to her. “Rosemary?” asked Josephine hesitantly, waiting for an explanation. 

“He helped me against the demon,” she said reluctantly. “But I don’t think we can trust him.”

Cole’s head cocked to the side. “Fleeting, fearful, frantic. You need me to be gone, they can’t see what I know. We both will stay.”

She prayed the others didn’t understand that as the threat it was. 

Leliana glanced between the two of them and asked, “A spirit helped you?”

A spirit. It made sense, she’d apparently picked him up in the fade and he hadn’t done anything truly menacing so it was unlikely he was a demon. At least not yet. She wasn’t sure how Leliana had deduced this but she stored the information away. 

She nodded. “He did. And maybe I was unfair. He was nothing but kind to me, and he saved my life. We could give him a chance.”

Cullen scoffed. “Trust him? He’s a demon and you just said we shouldn’t trust him! Now you want to set him free in the camp?”

“Wasn’t it you who said I could stand to be a little braver, Commander Cullen?” she said, sitting up a little straighter. She needed to do this, if Cole was inside her head he could get her killed. “He saved me, and I say we give him a chance.”

Cole was gone before she finished defending him, disappearing with hints of fade green in the air where he’d sat. 

Josephine looked nervous but she seemed the most content with their situation, saying, “He could be a useful resource-” 

Before she could so much as finish her sentence, Rosemary bolted out the door to go find the ticking bomb that had invited itself into her army.

[bedforddanes75]

do you have any fanfiction recs??

I DO!!!!!! im honoured that someone's thought of Me to ask for recs omg... anyway theyll be under the cut because making long posts without a cut makes me feel mean

okay im assuming u mean gatty cos. its Me so sorry if u didnt 😞 smut is marked with * btw!!! (also before i start i'm sorry to everyone i tag i Hate tagging it's really scary.) SO. in no specific order. let's go

love me to death* by...somebody who i do not know the tumblr of (sorry) is amazing. i'd also recommend everything else by this person, too, because all of it is beautiful.

all the king's horses by the wonderful @allylikethecat is one of my all time faves, it just makes me want to scream and cry and yell and jump up and down. in a very, very good way!! (also, it has horses, so.)

the big light by @betweenthings2 is for real godsent, and i would die to be able to write like this!!!!! (but if u do then tw for speak of s/a!! keep urself safe!) it's beautiful and sad and sad and sad and wonderful. again, i'd recommend everything else by them, too!!! (also loads of crisps because it got updated like three seconds ago, and i Love It)

in the search for it, inside of you* by @arainesque is so beautifully sad, and the best thing ever. it's so soft and wonderful and lovely and aaaaaahhh!!! the way she wrote their dynamic makes my heart ACHE. obsessed always :(((((<3

how little i really know (about the things that matter)* OH MY GOD. farm boy george. literally almost entirely what inspired deus like it's AMAZING. beautiful and i love it so much

roadkill, again, by @betweenthings2 because she's genuinely amazing and deserves nine hundred thousand billion kudos on every single fic <3 (tw for restrictive (i think) EDs btw!!) i think if i read this while not in a good mood i would explode and die. it's amazing

into my spiral patterns you (my love) by @lookedlikethebins which is in progress rn is HWHSKJSJSJ. beautiful. obsessed with how they've written george in this one <3

okay im Very sorry to everyone who i tagged here i genuinely hate tagging people so much it makes me SICK but i kinda felt bad speaking about fics and Not tagging people. LORD. someone give me a tumblr etiquette class

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Tell Me

Past =-= Next

Author's note: Karlsor's next part in Husbandry

Summary: Since he's Chaos Aligned (he'd like to argue that's grox-shit) and Not Very Chaos Twisted/mutated, he gets the dubious pleasure of being in Public Relations. (Since when do they have/need Public relations?!) Karlsor would like a refund. This is a shitty duty shift and he hates it a lot.

Warnings: Swearing. Let me know if I need to add anything.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams

Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

After following after the totally-not-scary Death Guard Apothecary Hura, and getting more explanations from his fellow Night Lords about Everything. And how Hura wasn't blowing smoke up his ass, that they really are on Ancient Terra, the information starts to sink in.

Much to his dismay, he has to be checked over by an Apothecary, and isn't it oh so convenient that Hura is right there to assess his health and what he might need. He begrudgingly allows the smug fucker to tend to him. He's given a relatively clean bill of health, which is fan-fucking-tastic.

He's sent off to the training salles to see what he's good at and other sorts of boring as testing to see where he'd fit in with the others on base for duty shifts and what not. New Postings, especially ones where your file isn't there for the Command to read, or has your current Command with you is such a pain in the fucking ass.

Some of these Chaos Fuckers are really fucking ugly to look at. And sometimes staring at some of the truly twisted one's hurts is brain, and he does his best not to look at them too much. To his greatest displeasure, he's supposedly going to be one of the more "front facing" of the Chaos Astartes in this base.

When he demanded why he had to do such an Ultramarine Fucker Job, it was said that since he lacked Chaos Mutations, among other things. He pointed out sourly that he's a fucking Night Lord and he's not an Officer, nor does he particularly care about being nicey-nice. He's not trained for it and he doesn't want to do such a shitty as job.

He Challenges the fuckers and loses. So, he has to do the shitty ass grox-shit ultramarine job of "public relations". Throne above! It makes his skin break out into hives as he scowls and stomps after the other poor bastards that were suckered into this job. He doesn't care to listen to what the Ultramarines, and other uppity fuckers say about some thing or other.

God, he hates briefing meetings. They drone on, and on, and on. Or they got interesting when Father went bug-fuck nuts and started killing people. Or one of the High Raptor Lords got stabby and then everyone was every man for themselves and trying Not To Die from The Command going bug-fuck nuts.

He rubs his face and groans a little. He's got the Curse of the Eighth quite strongly. Psyker... and trained at that. With wretched Future Sight which only ever showed him the most miserable and fucked up shit that made sleeping so hard. The Ultramarines are droning on and on and fucking on. He didn't mean to close his eyes, but he had, he's listening, but the power point presentation with the bright fucking lights is hurting his dark-adapted eyes something fierce.

He's got a fucking migraine that makes light feel like poisons and acid that drip into his eyes and across his skin. Sinking in like fire burning a corpse. He punches the asshole that jabs his side as he hisses at his fellow 'chaos' astartes that he's not asleep, he's listening to the fucker talk about some-random-grox shit that he doesn't particularly care about.

If it was truly important his Sight would be screeching at him about the danger levels. He does like that his Sight has gone mostly quiet and still. He's been able to sleep a lot better... sort of. He doesn't trust any of the fuckers in the base worth a damn, but even with how limited sleep an Astartes need, they do still need sleep.

He'd never thought he'd have to do public relations because 1) He's a fucking Night Lord. 2) He's 'pretty'. Which makes him cackle. No, he's no Blood Angel or Emperor's child. He's a survivor of Nostramo, and he's got the looks to prove it. Sickly pale skin, night dark eyes, and greasy-looking black hair that he keeps short. Also, he's got scars from previous battles that go all over his body. A few on his face, scratching up his features to make him even scarier to most base lines.

And yet, despite all that and the fact that he's a trained Psyker of the Eighth legion (which means, he knows that they think he's bug-fuck nuts) he's to be one of the front facing dip shits because he needs less warp fuckery to make it so he's more Normal and Shinier compared to others in the base... Given what he's seen of them, he can't argue as much after he sees just how twisted or 'blessed' some of those nightmare-inducing shit heads are. He still tries to argue and bitch his way out of the shit duty shift. Not that the fuckers listen to him.

He remembers hearing of one of his fellow fuckers in the Eighth legion being tortured by getting stuck in a room with bright lights constantly. For days. Throne, that sounds like a really shitty way to torture someone, especially since it didn’t cause any, or much suffering for anyone else. His hands clench into fists and then he relaxes them a bit. He wishes he could put his helmet back on as that would help filter out the light. But nooo he had to show ‘trust’ or whatever fucking grox shit the others had said… Also because he was one of the few ass holes in the Chaos Base that could take of his helmet… and all of his armor.

He wonders what sort of fucked up shit happened that being fused to ones armor did. Sounded… Horrifying, yet also comforting? Armor is a part of you. It protects the squishy bits and is almost like a second skin. He cracks open one of his eyes a sliver and notices when some base line humans show up and start chittering at them and he mentally groans about how this meeting keeps continuing on until fucking eternity. The human pauses as the Ultramarine translate what they says. Fucking perfect, until the little human stops their speech, which is going to make this at least twice as long because translation makes things so much fucking slower.

One of the other humans approaches him, which has him turn and squint down at them, and give a razor sharp grin filled with teeth as he flexes his hands. The talk at him in that same language the other human was speaking and had slowly pulled out something in a box. Which has him growling a little at them. They freeze in their movements and the eyes of all of his cousins are on him as the human unfreezes with an insulting swiftness as they open the box and he sees astartes sized strange looking google things. They were tinted, they gestured at them and then up at him.

He scowls at the room and back down at the human, slowly grabbing the goggles he puts them on and tries not to collapse into a pile of relief. Almost wanting to cry at how much better he feels now that the dreaded, hateful, cruel light is now mostly blocked because of these tinted goggles. Humans calls it “Sun Goggles.”

“Thank you,” He says to them, he means it to. He is not going to give these back and will kill someone to keep them. Multiple even.

[theoldoor]

Canon height difference vashrir save me canon height difference vashrir + post-talia AAWWWHHHGFDFHO

FUUUCKKK I HATE THE OC X CANON BRAINROT CUZ ITS LOWK EMBARRASSSIIIINNGGG

Ok but im not stingy, fenrir is not only to aventurine hes the ip3 little lapdog guy

With topaz he’s the guy who randomly shows up and became the dad (platonically) to the single mom (topaz) and the kid (numby) loves him like a real dad

With Aventurin- ill shut up (theyre each other everything’s at this point, enemies, allies, comrades, family, etc… and they have went through so much they are trauma bonded together like ionic bonds bro i am so giddied up about them. The love for one another that comes so naturally that they doesnt even realize theyre loving the other person, the subconscious worry and care for the other person despite everything and the CHARACTER X CHARACTER’S FOIL TROPE ALWAYS GETS MY ASSSSS THEY WULD LOVE ANYONE, EVEN THE TOTAL OPPOSITES OF THEM, ALL EXCETO THESEMVESLC. Wanting to know each other unapologetically, willingly and no ulterior motives, knowing for the sake of understanding thelakthe iulkdfhasdf. They have their own toxic traits in their dynamic but thats why they work because you cant use a saint to catch a sinner. Bro attachment dude who is desperate for attention and will do anything to get it x avoidant mfer who wants no one to stick with him because he’s afraid to ruin them bro i can aldsfhasohaDAAAAAA. The bickering tempered cat to soft kitty pipe line the trope of when theyre planning of ways to get rid of the other character while the other character thinks of how their future would be like turning into them living in the same space in a future none of them predicted. The trope of one having light in their eyes x no light in their eyes to gave up the light in their eyes for the others light in their eyes forhaeh. Care him like breathing x thinsk he cant be cared for good fucking lord save me. Notices when he’s not around x wish he was special. When auf wiedersehen sweetheart. When fenrir doesnt want to leave so aventurine has to force him to leave whe- saving someone who doesnt want to be saved when a character turn cruel because theyve lost everything x person who refuse to let them hate them when bickering in the beginning but at the end sacrifice for each other when “i dont care for myself” x “ill do it” when when “i wont wait forever” x “what if i did” when not being the strongest but still desperately tries to save the other person when they take care of the same kid togehter when it started out as one couldnt even care less x another desperate for them to even glance at them turns into two people who can’t bear the thought of another person in harm whehtehwehwehwhwhennn-)

Dr Ratio is funny cuz Fenrir is his wet dog pathetic student who can’t read and write but also got a doctorate in like 2 months and now Fenrir is also teaching with Dr Ratio but he’s teaching linguistic and literature. The strict teacher who is strict bc he cares x the chillax teacher who will get scary if he needs to. FFUUUUUCCCK PROFESSOR X PROFESSOR RIVAL AND THEY COMPARE THEIR STUDENTS GRADES TYPE SHIITTT IIMMM AFDLSFJHKAAAUAUHH.

Also post talia fenrir lol

He got a doctorate pretty fast and was invited to join the Riddlers, he considered it but decided not to because Dr Ratio told him so- but he does work with them in the dark. Fenrir would become a professor and although not invited to the Intelligentsia Guild yet, he’s bickering Dr Ratio to.

Since he’s out of Talia, he often hangs around Aventurine’s office and sometimes tag along back to his apartment too to do all the house chores and make dinner so Aventurine can rest. Housewife basically, malewife…. Fenrir….

[stazvlt]

NottPott Fanfics Rec Lists

After checking my bookmarks and the tags on ao3 i'm proudly present to you the nottpott fanfictions recommendation. TW: Please check / read the tags. Some of this fics touch a very heavy subject and it might not be your cup of tea.

Shadow magic by Lomonaaeren (Series- 73000 words total) AU.

Harry was born with a power the Dark Lord knows not: the magic to see into shadows, to walk the shadows, and to send the shadows everywhere. This changes his life rather dramatically.

Harry is very independent in this one. If you'd like to see Harry as a morally grey and powerful lord with a very devoted Theo this is your fics.

Enough is Enough by AnonymousMagpie (33k words)

In the spring of 1992, a massive magical discharge shakes Lily Potter’s legacy. Harry Potter, its raison d’être, nearly dies. It has until now been a passive enchantment, reactive, and burns away his attacker only once violent physical contact has been made. But the backlash is enormous. The protection is disrupted. For the first time since the day of its creation it must strain to the utmost. And it determines that Harry Potter is wildly, systematically unsafe.It reacts.

Gryffindor and Slytherin Inter house relationship, and many more!! Nottpott might not be the focus here but it deserve the place on this list on the base of it being very fun to read.

Clearly Granger Will Be the Brains of This Operation by Dart (2k words)

Someone has got to save Potter, so he can save the world. ~or~ Nott and Potter sitting in an BMW, S-N-A-R-K-I-N-G

Theodore nott kidnapping Harry Potter. Do i need to say more?

Another Way We Are Not Alone by thealmostrhetoricalquestion (15k words)

Theo barges his way into the afterlife to demand assistance from the Master of Death. And apparently fall deeply in love with him while he's at it.

The bonding here is Amazing. The banter, The journey, The Sentient Boat. 15k words of Nottpott bonding.

The Heir to the House of Prince by elph13 (series - 1.136 000 words)

Summer of 4th year and Harry's all alone, dealing with his grief and the sudden revelation that James Potter is not his father. Support comes in a strange form. The form of Theo Nott, son of a death Eater. A strange friend who says he'll help him find his true father, whoever this Lord Prince might be.

I legit didn't sleep for the entire night bcs i can't stop reading it's just that GOOD. The quality and lenght of this series are amazing. House of Prince Theo is the base of my fanon Theo. Smart, Observant, Loyal and utterly Scary. Theo who's very devoted with  his traditions. Theo who wield KNIFES. And it doesn't need to be said but Harry is also amazing in this one. He's stubborn, strong, and utterly loyal. Not Dumbledore or Sirius friendly though so i do warn you if you like both of them.

Amends by SheWhoMustNotBeNamedEver (1.6k words)

"How was my... You nearly cut me in half, Potter." Harry squinched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose over his glasses "You're being a bit dramatic about it, don't you think?"

Harry attempt to bribe Theo's forgiveness with a curry. You can guess how that goes ;)

Round and Fluffy by CaityBell @caitybellfics (1.5k)

Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter arrive at the DMLE to retrieve their spouses.

Uhh misuse of Confundus? Jail?? Hermione and Theo friendship, Draco and Harry 10 years rivalry. Got all you need here.

The Answering Machine Message by SunsetRiot (13k)

The answer machine beeps again; someone’s going to leave him another message. He hears his voice. It sounds so alive. They sound so happy. It’s getting harder to hear his voice these days; it’s getting harder to accept that he’s gone. He wonders what the person leaving a message is saying this time; probably offering their condolences, trying to send a message of hope through a stupid muggle machine, it’s all people seem to be doing these days. He hears another beep and he knows the persons finished leaving their message. He doesn’t care. He doesn’t want words, or hope or anything. What he wants is gone. Theodore Nott is dead and Harry Potter doesn’t know how to carry on living.

We have too much fluff therefore i need to recommend some angst. It's a bleak world for Harry without Theo there.

Harry Potter and His Saving Theo Thing by Lomonaaeren (21k)

Harry can think of worse things to do than helping Theodore Nott rejoin society. And after a while, so can Theo.

Adult Harry and Theo is always fun to read especially when Harry is an Auror. Their banter is delicious on this one. One of the more ... mature fic? I don't know how to describe it but this one has different vibes than the other fics on the list. Also this list isn't complete without the two lovely NottPott fics i got as gifts from HP rare pairs last year:

Silver Surprise by @lumosatnight

Theo joins the DA in Fifth Year, much to everyone’s surprise. His corporeal Patronus leaves Harry intrigued.

A Classic DA activity. Everyone is suspicious of the one lone slytherin but not our boy Harry. So SOFT and Cute, two traumatized children bonding over patronus <3

My Favorite Colour by @sandervansunshine

Tired of the monotony and hum-drum of adulthood, Harry seeks out a new source of happiness. He finds it— this pure, unadulterated blend of peace and joy— in a flowery meadow, a cool stream, and a storyteller by the name of Theodore Nott.

Feels good fics 100%. The way they shared a secret meadow and them unashamedly being themselves without judgement. Story teller Theo stole my heart <33 That's all for now! Thank you so much for checking this list out. I would love to add more fics in this list but my spirit need recharge after i accidentally deleted the last rec list last night. Most of these authors also wrote a lot of other amazing fics!! Please check them out :D OH and feel free to reblog or comment with your favorite NottPott fics, your pal here needs more nottpott.

[eldritch-spouse]

I definitely wasn't binging through Krulu's tag like a horny depraved soul with no life (which i am) when i found this:

Pinnie I need to know how Krulu responds/reacts to Admin's existential crisis and crippling anxiety telling them that they're useless to him now that he has no need to hide and he can just dispose of them if he wants to.

[Fem reader.]

TW: Slight angst; Religious mindsets.

It's wonderful seeing your lord in such high spirits.

You never made note of it before, mostly to avoid being insulting, but it bothered you that Krulu felt unsafe all the time, resigned himself to the darkness of his sacred floor, didn't look beyond the walls of The Clergy's Eye or set foot onto his own garden.

It was disheartening.

He's a god! He's your god! He should face the world with nothing but pride and elegance, his might is to be witnessed and revered by all- Hiding is unbecoming of his perfect nature.

You suppose you have to thank Miara for all of this. For the safety and confidence Krulu now exudes, for the push she gave him to finally finally impregnate you- For your beautiful baby boys who have now grown up to take Earth's main annexes by storm! Life is good.

Life is wonderful.

But it's so, so scary...

Ever since your higher stopped using you as a vessel -There's no need for such anymore, after all- A depressing distance has been cast between you two. Something stifling.

You're so very happy for him, for Adelo and Adrul who can now communicate with their second father openly, see him in the flesh so much more often than they once did, for the two of you even -Because you do like witnessing Krulu's glory- But... Things just aren't the same.

You no longer feel Krulu in the back of your mind, caressing your thoughts and murmuring to you. His presence on your body is so diminished you feel naked. Unsafe. Out of sorts. You feel useless as his servant. This isn't right. It's something you're ashamed to admit, but you wish he'd return to your form.

What's wrong with you? To be wishing misery upon your lord...

You're his chosen, you're the mother of the rulers of Eden and Perdition, you're loved dearly by your lord and your angel- So... So why is it that you feel small? Like an ant? Without Krulu... You're just a human. Just a girl.

Tears prick at your eyes.

It's stupid, it's so stupid. You should be happy. This is a day of celebration! Your sons have come to The Clergy to partake in celebration with their parents and the core team after their impressive feats. And instead of spending quality time with the people closest to you...

You're sobbing on a faraway bench.

Pathetic.

You don't even hear the footfalls approaching steadily.

" Chosen. "

To say you sprung up like a startled feline is to put it flatteringly lightly. Your lord stares at you from a great height, gaze ever hardened, though you've been his servant long enough to spot the creases of worry in the corners of his eyes.

" M- My lord, excuse me- I'll be joining the festivities in no time. " You stammer, wiping the tear trails on your face and hoping your makeup isn't smudged to absolute shit. But it probably is.

Krulu makes a chuff, then takes a seat beside your figure, not looking directly at you. One set of arms rests on their hips, another steeples its fingers, the remaining one adjusts some of his jewelry.

" Speak. What troubles you? "

To the point. You've come to love that about him.

" Nothing serious, my worship. " You sigh. " You know how fragile the human mind is, I'm just being silly. "

The siadar's tail rattles across the floor.

" Our minds may no longer be interwoven, but make no mistake, I know when you dare lie to me. " He warns, eyes narrowed. " Your pain is still my pain, however. And to hurt me is not wise. "

You curl further into yourself on the bench, sniffling. " My deepest apologies- "

" I will not ask twice. What ails you? "

Slowly, you crane your neck back, meeting only the charred side of Krulu's face. With perhaps the most shaky and futile of inhales, your lips let loose.

" I'm scared. "

The siadar straightens slightly.

" My lord, I would never doubt your words- But I doubt myself. We aren't as close as we once were, and that's amazing! That's good! But... I feel so hollow without you in my body. What duty do I have now? I know it's stupid of me -I know I'm foolish- But ever since you've ceased to use me as a vessel, I've been so... Miserable. "

The shame coating your cheeks burns brighter than a thousand dawns, so you opt to bore holes into the stone of the garden's pathway.

There's a deep rumble from beside you, and soon, your small frame is lifted, deposited in the crevice where your lord's long legs cross, facing forward to the garden's expanse just as he does.

" You are going through withdrawal. "

Krulu begins, giving all your thoughts pause.

" Have been, for quite some time. "

Four hands touch your body, two loop around your neck in a familiar hold that has you sighing in comfort. The other pair rubs your sides up and down.

" I never did think it had reached this state, but then, you have a most insufferable habit of hiding your distress from me. "

" I... I don't want to disappoint. "

The implication is loud, even without being verbalized. A pause passes.

" Pray tell, what bred the idea into your mind that the mother of my heirs is expendable? " He challenges, met with silence for a few moments.

" Was it something I imparted onto you? "

And, when you think about it deeper, there was never a moment where Krulu made you feel as if you were nothing but a body. Or that you would someday outlive your use. Your sentiments are strange and you can't place their source aptly.

" Never! I don't recall a single thing you've said or done to me that could cause this- I think I'm just... Having some type of episode? " What a wonderful thing to say, you snort inwardly to yourself. Yes, you're going mental.

" Episode, hm? " Krulu chuckles above you. " Close enough. You got there on your own, songbird. "

" I- Lord Master, I beg your pardon? " Did he actually confirm you're going insane?

The siadar shudders at the title bestowed upon him, a squeeze of powerful claws reminding you not to rile him up now. It slipped.

" Just as when I took hold of your form your organism experienced many changes, you are now going through several more as well. " He explains simply. " My departure is intense, I would be alerted if you did not react to it. "

You blink, staring into his blazing orange hues. " ... But it has been years, lordship. "

Krulu's grin turns slightly mocking. " Indeed it has. "

You can only blink vapidly again, prompting him to laugh loudly and pet you almost condescendingly.

" How many years did you live as my vessel, lesser? "

Oh. Oh.

No fucking wonder you've been feeling this way for so long. Oh boy, this is going to take a long while... Who knew a hormonal imbalance could last this long, and be this devastating. Maybe to a doctor, it would be extremely common knowledge, but you often forget said information, because it hardly ever holds relevance these days.

You feel even dumber now. Dumb as a door. May the ground grow a hole and consume you immediately.

The berating inner-monologue about to kickstart in your mind is halted entirely by the sensation of Krulu's thin lips against the top of your head as the massive entity curls to shield you from the world at large.

" You are hereby ordered to seek me as soon as these flares of inadequacy show themselves, understood? " Even if his words hold supreme authority, you feel the insurmountable care behind them.

" My chosen is my adored and my adored is the light of this decrepit world. You hold more value than the universe could ever hope to achieve to me, yet you do not even realize it. " He whispers.

And you cry.

You sob like a fucking baby.

You wail into your lord's arms, full of relief, of love, passion and reverence and complete fanaticism- Enough euphoria to blind you for seconds of total bliss. It's almost like an orgasm, in a peculiar way.

He holds you throughout the entire catharsis, silent, stable like a stone wall. Only when your quiet sniffling has petered out does he speak again.

" Come to us, Adrul did say he has many tales of his time in Wrath. His mother should listen. "

You stand with Krulu's help, a smile as bright as the sun on your face.

Everything is okay.

You'll get through this.

For him.

Always for him.

Everything for him.

[goatpaste]

I feel like I’m missing something.. what is the eated him incident of 89 I mean I get the premise but I feel like I’m missing like, the first post? I saw the short comic but that’s it and I NEED to know

oh man.. itS YEARS of AU writing iv done its soo fucking indulgent, iv literally been working on this AU since.. good lord April of 2022..

If you wanna go digging (which you can but a warning that theres OLLD ugly art post way back in there lol) its all tagged on my blog under #Pillar Fam

but even then its a lil non chronological

the best i got for that, is forever ago i tried to put the general info in a google doc, but its kinda outdated at this point as well lol

But the general idea for this 'incident' in this AU is simply, Jotaro didnt just kill Dio, Jotaro ate Dio

it stems from a P2 rewrite that ultimately ended up with everyone living for better or worse. Along with Joseph and Suzi having a relationship with Wham. Holly is born under both the Joestar Curse as well as Half Pillar man. Theres a lot to dive into with that, but thats just the bases for the bigger topic of 'Eated Him' which is a silly Nickname to a horrific Jotaro event in my AU lol

Jotaro coming from his half Pillar man Mom, is also part Pillar man. And everything we know of Jotaro and the way he behaves and the fear he had over his own stand he thought to be an evil spirit, all lumped on top of being part 'monster'

Jotaro is afraid of himself because he thinks he is a monster because he came from monsters. From comments from his granny Lisa on how cruel and mounterious his grandfather Kars is. To the way his mother doesn't open up about her own feelings of how she and her family is seen in the eyes of human society (which to her is meant to put on a smile and say nothing wrong in hopes that it can keep everyone happy and not burden anyone with her own sadness)

Then he gets this big scary evil spirit haunting him thats supposes to be from his own soul, and it looks just like his mean, cold and disliked 'monster' of a grandfather kars. Baring Fangs, horns and the works.

Jotaro and his mom in their large house, no husband usually around, or friends who come to visit. Just a large empty monster mansion.

So when it comes to the Dio fight in Egypt and as far as Jotaro knows everyone he cares about is dead or dying and he's back into a corner. Its just

fight or flight, and Jotaro doesn't even know whats happening, and how its so instinctual to him. Something so ancient in him that tells him to destroy Dio absolute.

He kills and eats Dio the way any good Pillar Man would a Vampire.

And Jotaro can never take that back. Jotaro has hurt many people, but always as a human, nothing beyond what any of the others in his new found circle of friends cant do. But this? this is what a monster does. Standing there in the middle of the streets of Cairo, covered in blood that isnt his own, dragging back and the last arm of flesh to his dying grandfather. In his eyes he has become his grandfather.

[illarian-rambling]

@davycoquette with the fun question games again!

Get to Know the Writblr

Gonna put this under a cut because it got long, but feel free to treat this as an open tag if you want to hop on!

On the Tumblr Writing Community:

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr?

Since the beginning of the year, maybe? Sometime in February, I think.

What led you to create it?

I was feeling pretty lonely having no one to talk to about my writing. None of my real-life friends are writers and I'm really terrible at expressing my interests verbally, so I figured online might be the place to go. So far, I've been right!

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

Oh, the people, for sure. It's incredibly rare that I come across anyone being less than supportive on here. No matter our skill level, I really feel like every writer on here has a sense of being in this shit together.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Hmmm.... I'm pretty open about sharing things about myself, so idk if there's anything major I haven't touched on yet. I wake up at 4am every morning for work, so if you see me posting at an egregious time, that's why. Also, if you ever want martial arts tips for your fight scenes, I'm your gal!

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

I love it when people make memes of their ocs. Makes me giggle every time.

What tips/advice do you have for someone who made a Writeblr today?

You gotta interact with people. I know it can be scary, but even a reblog with no tags can make another writer smile. Chances also are, if you leave a nice comment on someone's work, they might check you out and leave a nice comment on yours! A community isn't a community unless you go out and commune :)

WIP it Good:

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Lately, I've been juggling writing my first draft of Mortal God book 3 (tentatively title being The Machinations of Machine and Man) and going over @kaylinalexanderbooks lovely comments on MG1. My ghost ship project is also on a low simmer in the back of my brain, but I'm trying to leave that until I'm done with MG3.

How long have you been working on them?

Good lord, I started MG1 about... almost two years ago now? Damn, it feels like it's been so much longer. But hey, three book drafts in two years ain't bad! Honor's Outcasts, which is largely written by now, I started about three years ago.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

The two main characters of MG started as a vague daydream, which then became two important dnd npcs along with MG's main villain. I ended up liking them all so much that I wrote a short story which became *drumroll* three entire books! A lot of my inspiration came from Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood and the Foundryside Trilogy of books. I can't think of anyone specifically who inspired the characters, except that Astra was originally based on the archetype of the silent wandering cowboy/samurai as seen in a lot of Kurosawa films and old westerns. For anyone familiar with her, uh, things changed quite a lot.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least ten percent of my brain's storage is dedicated to my wips at all times. As for how often I'm actively thinking about them... it's also quite a lot.

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Uh, fantasy stuff?" is my go-to.

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

I really wish I had the ability to explain my wips as succinctly with speech as I do with writing, but alas. I would want to give a nice, book jacket blurb that doesn't give away too much of the crazy shit.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos:

Name any characters you created.

I think I'm really good at names, so we're gonna go down the list!

Izjik Meautammera

Sepo Kaiacynthus

Twenari Undetasib/Devaris

Djek Kagura

Astra DuClaire

Mashal Darezsho

Ivander Montane

Elsind Cavernsight

Duchon Avymere Kalaphon Spearsong III

Faalgun Falani

Nyda Burningrock

Kaulakri Ondohuroata

Pashananath

Anarac Fifth-Blood

Who’s the most unhinged?

Unhinged in terms of violence? Sepo for sure. Unhindered in terms of sheer chaos? I'm gonna go with Izjik and Djek as a duo. Between both of their high charismas and low intelligences, along with their combined expertise in fighting and creative uses of magic, they're unbeatable.

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Probably Izjik. I've been writing in her POV for the longest.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Sometimes yeah, when they do something real stupid. But, then again, I did make them that way.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters?

I think I know my characters really well and base my plot around their motives, so there really isn't a huge need for control.

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters?

PLEASE!!! FEED ME ASKS! I'LL TAKE ANYTHING!

On Writeblr Engagement:

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account?

Probably creativity. I've read a looooot of fantasy/sci-fi, so if you're doing something I've never seen before, I'll probably give you a follow.

What makes you decide against following?

Any kind of hateful rhetoric or someone who doesn't want 18+ interaction. Other than that, I think it's important to follow people who write different genres or have different methods than me.

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

I wouldn't say so. I get a little shy doing that.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

The characters of @kaylinalexanderbooks @mk-writes-stuff and @somethingclevermahogony all have a little place in my brain. Favorites from each include Robbie and Akash (not to be separated), Narul and Bop (love me a good living weapon/teddybear of a dude team-up), and Nellie and Stellaris (their earnest kindness makes my heart happy). If you haven't yet, you should go check out their stuff and see for yourself!

And with that, thanks for reading! Go out and have yourself a bitchin day <3

[antiromanticbaby]

Kingdoms - Obey Me TSL

[✧] ー Have you ever wondered how each kingdom in the Tale of Seven Lords looks? Part 2 of my TSL rants <3 all of them will come with the tag #♡ ┊ tsl rants by pk.

[✧] ー extra: Lord Diavolo, Barbatos, Simeon, Luke and even Solomon's places are mentioned too :)

The Main Three:

♡ ┊ There are three empires over all. Where angels, the holy creatures of light reside, is named Aurum. And where the Demons, creatures of darkness and sin reside, is named Sumbra. And then there is the land of humans, the place were creatures hold both darkness and light within themselves, known as Equilibrium.

♡ ┊ Aurum is ruled by a group of higher up angels named 'Father'. That father doesn't exist, but many believe it to do, especially the humans of Equilibrium. Some of the angels are known of these dark truths, and flee. The angel Simeon and the young angel in training Luke are two examples of the ones who flee, and live in Sumbra. The kingdom of demons, Sumbra, has one main Emperor, known as the King of Lords. That is where Lord Diavolo stands. That part of Sumbra is pretty much like a capital and has its own dukes, counts, etc. The roles are mostly based on Ars Goetia, much like Duke Barbatos. There are six kingdoms in Sumbra, ruled over by the seven overlords.

♡ ┊ And last but not the least is Equilibrium. The main king is King Solomon the wise, but the king himself is not seen much and is only named in stories. King Solomon the wise has disguised himself as a traveller between the three worlds and is known as a sorcerer.

Lord of Corruption:

♡ ┊ The Lord of Corruption's kingdom is by far, the coldest. Full of tall mountains and snow, and corrupted shadows. It is as if clouds are always looming over the kingdom throughout the daytime, and it's very rare for the people to see the sun. Nights are usually clear, but the shadows are ever lasting. The people in Lord of Corruption's domain are known for their harsh exterior but soft hearts, and they're very good when it comes to taming and controlling others. People are mostly wearing warm clothing, and they're very formal.

Lord of Fools:

♡ ┊ A deserted area, but full of glory. Imagine ancient Egypt, but make it eve more magical and elegant. The weather is usually hot, even in winters. As I stated in my other post, I like to imagine that his kingdom has multiple mines of gold and diamond, and many palaces like ancient middle eastern asian countries. The people are known for their good trades and they have connections all over Sumbra, some having connections in Equilibrium too. While Lord of Shadow's domain is good at training knights and war, Lord of Fool's domain is known for their wealth and connection, which makes them very scary.

Lord of Shadow:

♡ ┊ A fantasy kingdom, surrounded by water. The weather is amazing, if you enjoy being around seas a lot. Most of the people have their own sea pets and are great swimmers. I've once read that Levi trained and lead soldiers in wars, and so, I believe his kingdom in the TSL series is also good at training knights. The best knights in Sumbra are trained in Lord of Shadow's domain and have a badge that indicates that they've been trained there. They have huge troops of soldiers for wars and are known for their shape shifting abilities.

Lord of Masks:

♡ ┊ Have you ever seen pictures of magical forests where elves live? Where fairies fly around freely and magical animals walk around? That's the vibes I get when I think of the Lord of Masks. Also, many mystical animals are there. From golden deers to six eyed cats. The weather can be like rainy forests in summer, or as cold as the night in a desert. The whole kingdom, overall, gives cottagecore vibes. The people are known for their talent in plays and theatres. And if you want to read a good book, the best writers are from Lord of Masks' territory.

Lord of Lechery:

♡ ┊ Again another kingdom within mountains, but unlike Lord of Corruption's kingdom, Lord of Lechery's kingdom has warmer weather and more colorful flowers. Lord of Lechery's kingdom, or Asmo's kingdom, is also home to colorful birds and creatures that can live in mountains. Mostly birds though. The people are known for their fashion and amazing taste in colors. They're not that strong when it comes to war and magic, unlike Lord of Masks or Lord of Shadows, but the kingdom is supported by many. Many of the people don't see a reason for war either, why fight when all the other kingdoms love them and their lines of clothing?

Lord of Flies and Lord of Emptiness:

♡ ┊ The kingdom of sun and moon, the empire of light and dark. Where the skies are truly a sight and miracles happen. The kingdom is huge enough that it has been divided to two sides: The Sun, The Moon. This kingdom attracts many tourists, because sun and moon co-exist, they see each other everyday and even if they move, they're still together in the sky (which makes a very beautiful sight).

♡ ┊ Much like the kingdom itself, the people also have two sides. But that doesn't make them 'bad'. They have very delicious food and galaxy themed art. Things you can never find in other places of the world. There many accurate fortune tellers there and people who can read stars for multiple purposes, not just finding their way. The weather depends on where you are, the part dedicated to Lord of Flies? Pretty warm. Mind you, flies do exist there, and they adore the temperature. The part dedicated to Lord of Emptiness? You might need a blanket or too, but don't worry, it's not as cold of Lord of Corruption's domain.

These have been done for RP purposes. Shoot a message if you'd like to rp <;3 what should the next part be? wedding traditions? souvenirs? [Part 1]